There should be a snazzy intro here, but let's face it guys, the point would be this: CUDDLING. Every one needs cuddling. People love cuddling. I love cuddling. I think Arthur probably secretly loves cuddling. And you know Eames is a clingy bastard. Because cuddling is awesome! And everyone should get some cuddles. So, allow me to present:
The
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There's something about the man which, to Arthur's sensibilities, should be inherently offensive. How he dresses, how he talks, every single thing about his body language. All of it should set Arthur's teeth on edge.
None of it does.
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"So, the mark's illegitimate daughter," Chen says.
"No, that's not it." Eames leans back in his chair. "You're barking up the wrong tree. What you need is something he genuinely want to hide"As opposed to a daughter from his mistress of twenty years," Arthur says, dryly ( ... )
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Also, Eames is bearing coffee, which earns him a reprieve from the lesser crime of broaching Arthur's personal space.
"Yes?" he says, not looking up at Eames as he plunks the cup down next to Arthur's hand.
"You should probably take a break," Eames says, not unkindly. "You've been muttering at the same page for an hour now, and I know you're a quicker reader than that."
Arthur rolls his eyes because yes, he can speed read, thank you very much. "So you tell me where the money's going," the if you're so clever unspoken but nevertheless clearly heard.
Eames grins at him. "Let me take a look." He grabs the file and steals a sip from Arthur's coffee, grimacing as he puts the cup down. "Oh, that's vile. I can never fathom why you drink it ( ... )
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Arthur shudders when Eames noses at the back of his neck. "Just - thinking. You know."
"Mmm." Eames licks over the top of Arthur's spine. His hands close around Arthur's waist. "You think too much."
Arthur drops the spatula. Eames chuckles, approving, until Arthur turns around to face him. Arthur's not sure what expression he's wearing, but it makes Eames back off, fast. "Somebody should," Arthur all but snarls.
Eames blinks. "I thought you weren't trying to start a fight."
Arthur forces himself to take a deep breath. "Sorry. Fuck. That wasn't what I meant."
"What did you mean, then?" Eames isn't standing any closer, but he's not keeping himself away as obviously as he did a moment ago.
"I don't know. Fuck." Arthur rakes a hand through his hair. "Just - I don't know. It's nothing. Forget it."
"I would," and Eames' tone is so fucking patient, "except that every time I tried to get close to you in the last week you tried to bite my head off. That does not seem ( ... )
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I love that I am completely unsure as to which boy's lips we're talking about here. <3 This is all just so brilliant darling. This reminds me of Jizzy's domesticverse in that I never want to leave their world. I could re-read this forever.
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"I dread to ask." Eames' voice rumbles in his chest. Arthur can feel the vibrations of it under his ears. "But are you talking from experience?"
"Not really," Arthur admits. "Close, though. Oh, fuck, there was my first girlfriend." He raises his voice to a terrible falsetto, mostly because it makes Eames laugh. "Pain can be part of a loving relationship, Arthur, you just have to find the right Domme. Don't you love me, Arthur?"
In a feminine voice much more convincing than anything Arthur might have accomplished, Eames says, "Can't you just let me take care of you?"
Arthur has to flop down on the couch, he's laughing so hard. He looks through his eyelashes at Eames and is suddenly ( ... )
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Thank you so much!
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