Someone was watching him; Arthur could feel it. The temperature of the Dayroom was shifting and the small hairs at the nape of his neck were standing on end. A small shiver ran down his spine. Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, Arthur saw who it was.

There, standing in the entranceway of the Dayroom, was Monday's Noon. The way he had his gaze settled on him, eyes seeming to drink in his body from afar, was enough to make Arthur blush and quickly look at the floor. The tile was of sudden interest to him.

"I have the rehabilitation progress of the Far Reaches, milord," Noon said. "I'll leave them with you. Please, when you get a chance, take a look at them."

Arthur watched Noon as he approached. His eyes shifted from the documents in Noon's hands, up to the broad line of his shoulders, down to the rhythmic sway of his hips. He had been nursing a crush on the Denizen for years, which, upon reflection, was kind of disturbing. Before her could draw in a solid, stabilizing breath, Noon was standing before him, curiously watching the way Arthur's breath hitched in his throat.

"Are you all right?" Noon asked. "I thought your sickness had dissipated."

"I- I'm fine," Arthur croaked. "I'm just a bit overwhelmed by all that needs to be done in the House, that's all. I think I can handle it."

It was hard to explain the feeling Arthur got whenever Noon was around. As a young boy roped into the task of overthrowing the Morrow Days, Noon was always there as a pillar of strength for Arthur to lean on when he was weary. He was a wellspring of insight when Arthur needed advice, an advisor he could trust fully. But now, upon his return to the House and the duties he had put on hold five years ago, Noon was something else in addition to all the things he once was.

"Let me know if there's anything that I can do for you," Noon said as he gently placed the slim stack of papers in Arthur's waiting palms. The light brush of Noon's gloved fingers over Arthur's hands sent a small tremor through Arthur's body. He recoiled against the sensation, and the papers fluttered to the floor of the Dayroom.

"I'm so sorry!" Arthur cried, embarrassed that he couldn't even hang on to a small stack of documents.

"It's a miracle I can hold on to my sanity," Arthur thought bitterly to himself as he dropped to his knees to scoop up the mess at his feet.

Noon kneeled as well. "It's quite all right. Maybe these matters should wait," he said as he helped Arthur organize the paper back into an orderly pile.

"No, I'll be fine. Please," Arthur said, reassuring him. He couldn't tell if Noon believed him or not; he, like most other Denizens, were hard to read.

"Lord Arthur."

It was strange. Arthur marveled at the way Noon's mouth curled over his title: his tongue lightly touching his teeth, his lips conforming to the shape of the vowels that blended into consonants, another touch to the teeth, finished off with a ghost of a smile. It was interesting to watch, something he never really noticed before. Arthur smiled.

"Lord Arthur," Noon repeated, this time gesturing down the length of his arm with his eyes.

Arthur followed his gaze. They were both after the same document on the floor: a thick piece of parchment of a dull yellow color. Noon obviously reached it first; his hand was under Arthur's.

Realizing his position, Arthur retracted his hand. He could feel heat rising to his neck and face and quickly stood, his eyes turned from Noon.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"Milord."

Slowly, Arthur turned to face him. Dropping the papers, that was no longer an embarrassment. This was.

"You don't have to be sorry. It's all right," Noon whispered as he reached for his lord's hand, taking it gently in his. The feel of Noon's fingers running over him somehow added to the reassurance. It was a soothing gesture, one of healing.

"I just, you know, feel all awkward and silly," Arthur said as he shuffled one foot around in a square-like pattern.

Noon circled his thumb over the back of Arthur's hand. "You don't ever have to feel that way around me. There is no need."

"But I do!" Arthur said. It was frustrating. He was still the same old Noon, and while he had aged five years, he was still the same old Arthur. Nothing had changed. Had it?

"Don't."

He felt his hand being lifted and the light brush of Noon's lips over his knuckles. The gesture surprised Arthur and he snapped his attention fully back to Noon.

Every touch of Noon's lips to his hand sent a rippling wave of pleasure down Arthur's arm, deep into his chest. Into his stomach, twisting into a knot of delight. The feeling was similar to the times Arthur had spent with Leaf when they were older and the whole mess with the House was through, for the time being. The way she would make his body tingle with her kisses, it was akin to this.

But this was Noon. This was different. Their whole relationship differed from his and Leaf's. In the House, Arthur was the Master. Noon was the servant. Oh god. Noon wasn't doing this because he thought he had to, was he?

"Noon," Arthur croaked. "You don't have to..."

He pulled Arthur closer, closing the distance between them.

"You don't know how long I've waited for your return," Noon whispered into Arthur's ear. "When I saw you at the Front Door that day– and upon seeing how much you had grown– I knew right then the House would be in good hands. The Denizens of the House were loathe to watch you go when you did, after the fall of Lord Sunday. And I know I missed you terribly. But you've returned, and I am so very grateful."

Arthur inhaled sharply, feeling Noon's mouth trailing the line of his jaw with small kisses. In response, Arthur tilted his head and lifted his chin; Noon easily forged his way down the curve of Arthur's neck.

Threading his fingers through Noon's hair, Arthur panted, "Noon, wait."

Noon pulled back, regarding Arthur with his darkened eyes. "Forgive me. I've overstepped my bounds."

Arthur shook his head, watching the way Noon occupied himself with the task of gathering the fallen documents to him. "No, that's not it. It's just– this is all quite sudden. I don't know what to make of all it." Arthur slumped his shoulders and sighed.

Straightening, Noon bowed his head. "I understand."

"Noon." After effectively locking Noon's gaze with his own, Arthur placed his hands on Noon's shoulders and craned his neck. Their lips touched in an innocent kiss. It lasted but an instant, but it was enough for Arthur.

"Miord?" Noon said with a smile.

"One day," Arthur said, "But not yet."