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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CUDDLING PANDAS:
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THE BANTER! AND THE CUDDLES! AND THEIR WHIIIIIIMS!
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THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS!
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♥ ♥ ♥
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He shifts sluggishly beneath the blankets, only to feel a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest. Arthur hisses, pressing his face into the foreign pillow until the hot surge of pain fades. He reaches a hand up, feels gauze and bandages and tape over his left pectoral muscle.
A dream wouldn't involve him being wounded and tucked into bed.
Slowly, the details start to come back to him: gunfire outside his hotel, a car chase, and the realization that he'd been shot"Are you awake?" a familiar voice asks, soft breath against the back of Arthur's neck, and suddenly Arthur is aware of the solid warmth pressed along his back, a broad hand fitted over the dip of his waist ( ... )
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