Fic: Accidental 3/?
Kink Meme Fill
Title: Accidental 3/?
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Arthur/Robert, mentions of a het relationship
Prompt: University AU, Previously straight Eames wants his roommate Robert's boyfriend Arthur after accidentally walking in on the two having sex in their dorm room.
Note: This chapter hasn't been betaed, so there may be a few errors.
“Eames!”
Eames paused, the hand not holding his gym bag stilled on the door handle as he turned to face Robert, who was just coming out of his bedroom to catch him before he could slip away. Robert was running his fingers through his thick hair, slicking it back. “Glad I caught you, man,” he said. “Where you off to?”
Eames glanced down at his bag like it should be perfectly obvious, but answered him all the same. “Just the gym-”
“No no no,” Robert said, his pale blue eyes rolling dramatically as he stepped forward and pulled Eames’ bag down from his shoulder. “You’re coming with us. There’s a party at Ari’s...I’m footing the booze bill of course, so we don’t have to settle for that keg shit again...” Robert made a grimace akin to the face he made the first time he saw Eames in plaid. “But you should come. You’ve been moping all week about Anne and we need your big muscles to help us carry shit.”
Eames felt himself redden at “us” and couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to Robert’s doorway. “I dunno if I’m up for a party tonight, mate...” he said, but Robert was already tossing his bag to the opposite side of the couch and walking back to his room. “I have the perfect shirt for you to wear.”
Eames put his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly at the door as he tried to decide which would be worse, sneaking out while he had the chance and have to explain himself later, or going to the party and potentially feeling uncomfortable for several hours.
“Who all is going?” he called after Robert, head canted to one side.
“What?”
Eames sighed, scrunching his face as he ambled forwards, stopping in Robert’s doorway. Arthur was sitting on Robert’s bed, his arms stretched behind him, propping him up. Eames remembered the first time he’d seen Arthur, back at the beginning of the fall semester. He thought of the threadbare grey tee, his striped sweater with the worn out neckline. Then Robert and his wallet had gotten their hands on him, and the tattered History Day shirt had been replaced with tailored button downs, his sweaters tight and form fitting. Eames had teased him the first time he saw Arthur in skinny jeans, telling him he was one peacoat away from being a complete prep school flamer. He’d kicked at the other boy playfully, Arthur’s dimples on full display as his cheeks pinked.
One of Arthur’s shoulders was cocked up, his pouty lips parted as he looked up at Eames as a red flush crept up his long neck. Eames had to look away, reminded of how Arthur had fixed eyes on him when Eames watched from the other side of the door. Watched him get lowered down and fucked.
“Here!”
Robert jerked a black shirt from a hanger, crossing quickly to Eames and holding it up against him. “Yeah, this should work...it’s big on me so it should fit. Take that off,” he waved his hand at Eames’ jacket and the white tee underneath.
“I don’t think I’m going tonight,” Eames said, handing the shirt back to Robert.
Robert pushed it back at him. “Come on, man, you’ll have fun. All work and no play, you know?”
Eames held the shirt but made no move to put it on.
“Arthur, come on,” Robert huffed, ruffling Arthur’s hair fondly. “Back me up on this, we both want you there.”
Arthur’s face was red now, the side of his lower lip pulled between his teeth. “You should come,” he finally said. “It’ll be fun.”
Robert was back in his closet, drawing out two other shirts and eyeing them carefully. “Come on, you can do better than that, babe!” he said with a laugh. “I’ll buy you any liquor you want, Eames. We never hang out anymore, roomie!”
Arthur drew his arms up and into his lap, his dark eyes careful as they looked up at Eames. “Please come,” he said, his tone almost begging. Then he licked his lips unconsciously, and all Eames could see was Arthur on his knees with cum on his face. “It’ll be fun to hang out.”
Eames finally conceded, going into his own room to change into Robert’s shirt. The black sweater was tight across his chest and arms, the sleeves stopping just below his elbows. It was not his taste at all, not terrible but nothing he would have chosen to wear on his own. He was about to take it off when Robert was there in his doorway wolf whistling.
“Damn, Eames! You look really sexy, I’d totally fuck you.” He winked lewdly and laughed at the comical look of disgust Eames tossed in his direction.
“I look incredibly gay in this.”
“The ladies are going to love it,” Robert countered. “Look at your forearms in that!”
Eames scratched at his chest, eyeing himself again in the mirror before shaking his head and shrugging. “Whatever, I’ll wear it.”
Robert was true to his word, buying pretty much anything Eames even glanced at, and had no problem motioning for Eames to carry the heavy box while he and Arthur carried a few lighter cases of beer.
“Do you need help?” Arthur asked, sidling over to Eames as they walked back to the car.
Eames shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, eyes focused on the pavement in front of him.
“Are you sure?” Arthur asked again, his voice low. “Maybe I can try to carry it from the car when we get to Ari-”
“It’s fine” Eames said, his tone finite and short in a way he hadn’t really intended it to be.
Arthur nodded curtly, moving a bit faster to catch up with Robert.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Eames took a long gulp from the Jager Redbull Robert had pressed into his hand after Eames had told him that the Vodka raspberry the other boy had offered him was “too fucking gay” while he was still sober. Robert had rolled his eyes, muttering something about straight boys before fetching the new drink. He’d given Eames a victorious smile, asking if this was more up to Eames’ “heteronormative” par. Eames liked neither Redbull or Jagermeister, but he did like distancing himself from sobriety and therefore drank it as quickly as possible.
There were a lot more people than he’d been expecting, some of whom he knew but the rest unfamiliar. He saw Ariadne in the corner, putting her French Lit 1001 class to good use by arguing Proust with boys in skinny jeans. He recognized a few people from his own classes, but didn’t really see anyone he’d talked to before. He saw Nash talking to a few blondes in sky high heels making the same grand hand gestures he’d made when he tried to get Eames to buy his laced pot earlier in the semester at one of Yusuf’s parties. The guy didn’t take hints and was impossible to get rid of, so Eames took his empty cup and made his way to the kitchen to find a new drink.
Ariadne lived in a large house with seven other roommates, a situation Eames himself could never understand the appeal of, but it did allow for large functions such as this. In the kitchen there were bottles spread across the counter tops, and he drummed his fingers absently as he considered them.
“Liquor before beer, in the clear,” he muttered to himself as he selected a bottle of tequila and filled his cup with that and some lemonade he found in a cooler at his feet. He took an experimental sip, then another before filling the cup almost to the rim with more tequila.
“Hey, Eames.”
Eames looked over to see Arthur’s roommate Dom, the blond boy reaching for some flavored vodka and two red plastic cups. “Hey,” he responded in turn, sampling his new concoction. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good,” Dom said. “That’s some shirt you have on.” He offered Eames two raised brows as he scanned the other boy’s chest and shoulders.
Eames shrugged, his feet shuffling to stand slightly apart as he scoffed, plucking at the black material over his chest. “Fucking Robert,” he said in explanation. “He thinks it’ll help me get a girl. I just didn’t want to hear him whine about it all night if I said no.”
“You look like a fucking GQ model or something,” Dom said, making it sounds more like a criticism than a compliment. “And please, like you need help to get girls. You’re British, man, it’s like kryptonite to American chicks.”
Eames smiled, taking another long sip from his cup.
“Ariadne’s had a crush on you since the beginning of the year,” Dom continued. “I’m sure she’d love that sweater.”
Eames laughed low, his head cocking to the side as he glanced out into the next room where she was still talking with the same group, her hands wild before her face as she made a some point of apparent significance. “She’s a sweet girl,” he said. “But the feelings are not mutual.”
Dom nodded. “Did Arthur come with Robert?” he asked, catching Eames off guard.
Eames nodded, taking another sip. “I haven’t seen him since we got here, though.”
Dom sighed. “Robert’s a good guy and all, but he’s a total social butterfly and sometimes forgets Arthur isn’t. If you see Arthur by himself, could you chat him up or something?”
Eames’ jaw flexed as he ground his teeth, his grip on the plastic cup tightening slightly. “Sure,” he said.
Dom patted him on the shoulder with a “thanks, man” before walking away.
Eames groaned, topping up his cup one last time and delighting in the fact that his head was finally feeling a bit lighter. In the other room, someone turned on some music, the loud bass thumping through the floor. Eames wandered down the stairs to a basement outfitted with various couches, chairs,and bean bags all in various states of wear and tear. Christmas lights were strung up with thumbtacks and cast the room in a warm glow.
He flopped down onto one of the unoccupied beanbags, his legs stretched out as he gazed at the ceiling and listened to the conversations about him. He heard snippets here and there, mostly about movies or how the bitch professor didn’t even list the required readings on the syllabus to force attendance in her class. There was a guy on the far end of the room making crude finger gestures as his obviously virginal friends leaned in and eagerly listened to some likely fictional tale of sexual exploit.
Eames watched a blonde girl walk passed him in a slow and deliberate manner, eying him up and down pointedly before moving on the join another group across the room. She sidled over to another girl and whispered into her ear, the two of them then glancing back to him in a less than conspicuous manner before whispering again.
He sat there and watched the others while he finished his drink, the conversation about him becoming increasingly ridiculous and intolerable. The solitude was appreciated at the moment, but also rather dull and doing nothing to properly distract him. He pulled out his phone and texted Yusuf, asking if he was coming to the party as well. Some time went by with no reply from the other boy, and Eames was beginning to regret agreeing to come. When he'd reached his limit he stood with a sigh, walking back towards to stairs. He definitely needed another drink.
When he got back to the kitchen, Eames decided for forgo the plastic cup and picked up the bottle of tequila, raising it to his lips and taking a hearty swig. His throat burned, mouth warming as he took another drink, wiping his full lips with the back of his hand. The beat from the next room was hard and fast, and he wandered into a dark room illuminated by more christmas lights and a multi colored strobe light on a coffee table.
Eames chugged from the bottle until he felt tears in his eyes from the burn of it. He wiped his mouth with his arm, eyes narrowing when he saw Arthur going up the stairs in the other room. He felt himself take a step forward, his face heating as he realized he had no idea what he was going to say, what he was going to do, but he was still fucking moving. Then he was jostled by a smaller form, and Imogen was raising a hand in apology, doubled forward with laughter at something Ariadne had said to her. Her pale cheeks were dark from excitement, blonde hair wild until she pushed it back with a hand.
“Eames!” she said, drawing in heavy breaths. “How’s it going? Ari and I were just talking about you-” she cried out dramatically when Ariadne slapped her hard in the chest.
“My tit!” she cried, clutching the area with one hand, her mouth slack in shock which might have been genuine irritating if she wasn’t so drunk. “You bitch, that fucking hurt-”
“We were just talking about how we never see you anymore,” Ariadne said, her small mouth tight and eyes wider than seemed natural. “You used to come hang out with Robert all the time.”
“Yeah,” Eames said, scratching idly at his temple and letting his eyebrows climb towards his hairline. “Yeah totally...just been so busy, you know? Class has been a total nightmare this term. Been sort of a in class or in the gym sort of thing-”
“We could tell,” Imogen said, waggling her brows playfully, earning her another cutting glare from Ariadne.
“Nothing personal though, you know,” Eames continued, unable to hide a smile at Imogen’s drunken chiding and Ariadne’s barely maintained composure. They made rather an adorable pair. “We should definitely hang out sometime soon though. Anne and I are going to Blend next Thursday, actually...you guys should come along. Anne’s bringing a friend so we could all go as a group.”
Eames did his best to not grimace at how Ariadne’s face fell at the mention of Anne, but she was quick to smile again, even if her expression was a little too eager and a little too congratulatory.
“You guys are back together, then?” she asked, eyelids fluttering in what Eames knew was an unconscious manner. “That’s great. Yeah....Yeah we’ll totally come. Imogen loves Blend.”
Imogen’s arm was threading through Ariadne’s, encircling her waist. “There’s always cute boys there!” she said, offering Ariadne a little shake. Eames could tell the blond girl was planning their exit, and knit his eyebrows as he raised his bottle.
“Sorry girls, I was a bit too ambitious with this, think I need to mix something in. Text me about Thursday, yeah?”
Ariadne nodded, grimacing comically when Imogen pressed a wet open-mouthed kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, that sounds fun. Thanks for coming tonight, Eames.” She stepped forward awkwardly, as though she meant to hug him. Eames hated to see her looking so unsure, and so he bend down to pull her into a one armed embrace, the gesture fleeting but very much appreciated if her expression was anything to go by. Imogen clasped him on the shoulder before dragging Ariadne away, her arm wrapped protectively around Ari’s slight shoulders as she whispered something into her ear which made Ariadne rub her back in return.
TBC
Arthur was scarce this bit, but he'll be in the next chapter more!!
Title: Accidental 3/?
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Arthur/Robert, mentions of a het relationship
Prompt: University AU, Previously straight Eames wants his roommate Robert's boyfriend Arthur after accidentally walking in on the two having sex in their dorm room.
Note: This chapter hasn't been betaed, so there may be a few errors.
“Eames!”
Eames paused, the hand not holding his gym bag stilled on the door handle as he turned to face Robert, who was just coming out of his bedroom to catch him before he could slip away. Robert was running his fingers through his thick hair, slicking it back. “Glad I caught you, man,” he said. “Where you off to?”
Eames glanced down at his bag like it should be perfectly obvious, but answered him all the same. “Just the gym-”
“No no no,” Robert said, his pale blue eyes rolling dramatically as he stepped forward and pulled Eames’ bag down from his shoulder. “You’re coming with us. There’s a party at Ari’s...I’m footing the booze bill of course, so we don’t have to settle for that keg shit again...” Robert made a grimace akin to the face he made the first time he saw Eames in plaid. “But you should come. You’ve been moping all week about Anne and we need your big muscles to help us carry shit.”
Eames felt himself redden at “us” and couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to Robert’s doorway. “I dunno if I’m up for a party tonight, mate...” he said, but Robert was already tossing his bag to the opposite side of the couch and walking back to his room. “I have the perfect shirt for you to wear.”
Eames put his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly at the door as he tried to decide which would be worse, sneaking out while he had the chance and have to explain himself later, or going to the party and potentially feeling uncomfortable for several hours.
“Who all is going?” he called after Robert, head canted to one side.
“What?”
Eames sighed, scrunching his face as he ambled forwards, stopping in Robert’s doorway. Arthur was sitting on Robert’s bed, his arms stretched behind him, propping him up. Eames remembered the first time he’d seen Arthur, back at the beginning of the fall semester. He thought of the threadbare grey tee, his striped sweater with the worn out neckline. Then Robert and his wallet had gotten their hands on him, and the tattered History Day shirt had been replaced with tailored button downs, his sweaters tight and form fitting. Eames had teased him the first time he saw Arthur in skinny jeans, telling him he was one peacoat away from being a complete prep school flamer. He’d kicked at the other boy playfully, Arthur’s dimples on full display as his cheeks pinked.
One of Arthur’s shoulders was cocked up, his pouty lips parted as he looked up at Eames as a red flush crept up his long neck. Eames had to look away, reminded of how Arthur had fixed eyes on him when Eames watched from the other side of the door. Watched him get lowered down and fucked.
“Here!”
Robert jerked a black shirt from a hanger, crossing quickly to Eames and holding it up against him. “Yeah, this should work...it’s big on me so it should fit. Take that off,” he waved his hand at Eames’ jacket and the white tee underneath.
“I don’t think I’m going tonight,” Eames said, handing the shirt back to Robert.
Robert pushed it back at him. “Come on, man, you’ll have fun. All work and no play, you know?”
Eames held the shirt but made no move to put it on.
“Arthur, come on,” Robert huffed, ruffling Arthur’s hair fondly. “Back me up on this, we both want you there.”
Arthur’s face was red now, the side of his lower lip pulled between his teeth. “You should come,” he finally said. “It’ll be fun.”
Robert was back in his closet, drawing out two other shirts and eyeing them carefully. “Come on, you can do better than that, babe!” he said with a laugh. “I’ll buy you any liquor you want, Eames. We never hang out anymore, roomie!”
Arthur drew his arms up and into his lap, his dark eyes careful as they looked up at Eames. “Please come,” he said, his tone almost begging. Then he licked his lips unconsciously, and all Eames could see was Arthur on his knees with cum on his face. “It’ll be fun to hang out.”
Eames finally conceded, going into his own room to change into Robert’s shirt. The black sweater was tight across his chest and arms, the sleeves stopping just below his elbows. It was not his taste at all, not terrible but nothing he would have chosen to wear on his own. He was about to take it off when Robert was there in his doorway wolf whistling.
“Damn, Eames! You look really sexy, I’d totally fuck you.” He winked lewdly and laughed at the comical look of disgust Eames tossed in his direction.
“I look incredibly gay in this.”
“The ladies are going to love it,” Robert countered. “Look at your forearms in that!”
Eames scratched at his chest, eyeing himself again in the mirror before shaking his head and shrugging. “Whatever, I’ll wear it.”
Robert was true to his word, buying pretty much anything Eames even glanced at, and had no problem motioning for Eames to carry the heavy box while he and Arthur carried a few lighter cases of beer.
“Do you need help?” Arthur asked, sidling over to Eames as they walked back to the car.
Eames shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, eyes focused on the pavement in front of him.
“Are you sure?” Arthur asked again, his voice low. “Maybe I can try to carry it from the car when we get to Ari-”
“It’s fine” Eames said, his tone finite and short in a way he hadn’t really intended it to be.
Arthur nodded curtly, moving a bit faster to catch up with Robert.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Eames took a long gulp from the Jager Redbull Robert had pressed into his hand after Eames had told him that the Vodka raspberry the other boy had offered him was “too fucking gay” while he was still sober. Robert had rolled his eyes, muttering something about straight boys before fetching the new drink. He’d given Eames a victorious smile, asking if this was more up to Eames’ “heteronormative” par. Eames liked neither Redbull or Jagermeister, but he did like distancing himself from sobriety and therefore drank it as quickly as possible.
There were a lot more people than he’d been expecting, some of whom he knew but the rest unfamiliar. He saw Ariadne in the corner, putting her French Lit 1001 class to good use by arguing Proust with boys in skinny jeans. He recognized a few people from his own classes, but didn’t really see anyone he’d talked to before. He saw Nash talking to a few blondes in sky high heels making the same grand hand gestures he’d made when he tried to get Eames to buy his laced pot earlier in the semester at one of Yusuf’s parties. The guy didn’t take hints and was impossible to get rid of, so Eames took his empty cup and made his way to the kitchen to find a new drink.
Ariadne lived in a large house with seven other roommates, a situation Eames himself could never understand the appeal of, but it did allow for large functions such as this. In the kitchen there were bottles spread across the counter tops, and he drummed his fingers absently as he considered them.
“Liquor before beer, in the clear,” he muttered to himself as he selected a bottle of tequila and filled his cup with that and some lemonade he found in a cooler at his feet. He took an experimental sip, then another before filling the cup almost to the rim with more tequila.
“Hey, Eames.”
Eames looked over to see Arthur’s roommate Dom, the blond boy reaching for some flavored vodka and two red plastic cups. “Hey,” he responded in turn, sampling his new concoction. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good,” Dom said. “That’s some shirt you have on.” He offered Eames two raised brows as he scanned the other boy’s chest and shoulders.
Eames shrugged, his feet shuffling to stand slightly apart as he scoffed, plucking at the black material over his chest. “Fucking Robert,” he said in explanation. “He thinks it’ll help me get a girl. I just didn’t want to hear him whine about it all night if I said no.”
“You look like a fucking GQ model or something,” Dom said, making it sounds more like a criticism than a compliment. “And please, like you need help to get girls. You’re British, man, it’s like kryptonite to American chicks.”
Eames smiled, taking another long sip from his cup.
“Ariadne’s had a crush on you since the beginning of the year,” Dom continued. “I’m sure she’d love that sweater.”
Eames laughed low, his head cocking to the side as he glanced out into the next room where she was still talking with the same group, her hands wild before her face as she made a some point of apparent significance. “She’s a sweet girl,” he said. “But the feelings are not mutual.”
Dom nodded. “Did Arthur come with Robert?” he asked, catching Eames off guard.
Eames nodded, taking another sip. “I haven’t seen him since we got here, though.”
Dom sighed. “Robert’s a good guy and all, but he’s a total social butterfly and sometimes forgets Arthur isn’t. If you see Arthur by himself, could you chat him up or something?”
Eames’ jaw flexed as he ground his teeth, his grip on the plastic cup tightening slightly. “Sure,” he said.
Dom patted him on the shoulder with a “thanks, man” before walking away.
Eames groaned, topping up his cup one last time and delighting in the fact that his head was finally feeling a bit lighter. In the other room, someone turned on some music, the loud bass thumping through the floor. Eames wandered down the stairs to a basement outfitted with various couches, chairs,and bean bags all in various states of wear and tear. Christmas lights were strung up with thumbtacks and cast the room in a warm glow.
He flopped down onto one of the unoccupied beanbags, his legs stretched out as he gazed at the ceiling and listened to the conversations about him. He heard snippets here and there, mostly about movies or how the bitch professor didn’t even list the required readings on the syllabus to force attendance in her class. There was a guy on the far end of the room making crude finger gestures as his obviously virginal friends leaned in and eagerly listened to some likely fictional tale of sexual exploit.
Eames watched a blonde girl walk passed him in a slow and deliberate manner, eying him up and down pointedly before moving on the join another group across the room. She sidled over to another girl and whispered into her ear, the two of them then glancing back to him in a less than conspicuous manner before whispering again.
He sat there and watched the others while he finished his drink, the conversation about him becoming increasingly ridiculous and intolerable. The solitude was appreciated at the moment, but also rather dull and doing nothing to properly distract him. He pulled out his phone and texted Yusuf, asking if he was coming to the party as well. Some time went by with no reply from the other boy, and Eames was beginning to regret agreeing to come. When he'd reached his limit he stood with a sigh, walking back towards to stairs. He definitely needed another drink.
When he got back to the kitchen, Eames decided for forgo the plastic cup and picked up the bottle of tequila, raising it to his lips and taking a hearty swig. His throat burned, mouth warming as he took another drink, wiping his full lips with the back of his hand. The beat from the next room was hard and fast, and he wandered into a dark room illuminated by more christmas lights and a multi colored strobe light on a coffee table.
Eames chugged from the bottle until he felt tears in his eyes from the burn of it. He wiped his mouth with his arm, eyes narrowing when he saw Arthur going up the stairs in the other room. He felt himself take a step forward, his face heating as he realized he had no idea what he was going to say, what he was going to do, but he was still fucking moving. Then he was jostled by a smaller form, and Imogen was raising a hand in apology, doubled forward with laughter at something Ariadne had said to her. Her pale cheeks were dark from excitement, blonde hair wild until she pushed it back with a hand.
“Eames!” she said, drawing in heavy breaths. “How’s it going? Ari and I were just talking about you-” she cried out dramatically when Ariadne slapped her hard in the chest.
“My tit!” she cried, clutching the area with one hand, her mouth slack in shock which might have been genuine irritating if she wasn’t so drunk. “You bitch, that fucking hurt-”
“We were just talking about how we never see you anymore,” Ariadne said, her small mouth tight and eyes wider than seemed natural. “You used to come hang out with Robert all the time.”
“Yeah,” Eames said, scratching idly at his temple and letting his eyebrows climb towards his hairline. “Yeah totally...just been so busy, you know? Class has been a total nightmare this term. Been sort of a in class or in the gym sort of thing-”
“We could tell,” Imogen said, waggling her brows playfully, earning her another cutting glare from Ariadne.
“Nothing personal though, you know,” Eames continued, unable to hide a smile at Imogen’s drunken chiding and Ariadne’s barely maintained composure. They made rather an adorable pair. “We should definitely hang out sometime soon though. Anne and I are going to Blend next Thursday, actually...you guys should come along. Anne’s bringing a friend so we could all go as a group.”
Eames did his best to not grimace at how Ariadne’s face fell at the mention of Anne, but she was quick to smile again, even if her expression was a little too eager and a little too congratulatory.
“You guys are back together, then?” she asked, eyelids fluttering in what Eames knew was an unconscious manner. “That’s great. Yeah....Yeah we’ll totally come. Imogen loves Blend.”
Imogen’s arm was threading through Ariadne’s, encircling her waist. “There’s always cute boys there!” she said, offering Ariadne a little shake. Eames could tell the blond girl was planning their exit, and knit his eyebrows as he raised his bottle.
“Sorry girls, I was a bit too ambitious with this, think I need to mix something in. Text me about Thursday, yeah?”
Ariadne nodded, grimacing comically when Imogen pressed a wet open-mouthed kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, that sounds fun. Thanks for coming tonight, Eames.” She stepped forward awkwardly, as though she meant to hug him. Eames hated to see her looking so unsure, and so he bend down to pull her into a one armed embrace, the gesture fleeting but very much appreciated if her expression was anything to go by. Imogen clasped him on the shoulder before dragging Ariadne away, her arm wrapped protectively around Ari’s slight shoulders as she whispered something into her ear which made Ariadne rub her back in return.
TBC
Arthur was scarce this bit, but he'll be in the next chapter more!!