[ For the record, he still wants to stick his head under the pillow, but he won't. He suffers through the embarrassment until he can feel his face cool– though the kiss Eames plants on his cheek doesn't do much to help.
Rolling over onto his stomach, he slings an arm around Eames' middle, chin tucked down as he settles. It's strange, because he can already tell he'll be able to relax without much of a problem. That should be alarming, considering how much effort he's spent in not being taken by surprise or just being a living tension rod.
Then again, whatever he can't handle, he knows the forger will. There's a weird safety net in knowing that. ]
( It comes out soft, because Arthur's arm around his stomach has a soothing weight that Eames had not anticipated before. His pulse picks up regardless, but the rest of him feels secure. He even feels his eyes closing, fingers drifting to rub a pattern over the bony knob of Arthur's wrist before they fall to the mattress again. )
As if they'd question how you know. You're the keeper of secrets, darling. You could say anything you wanted about me and they'd assume you were just clever enough to steal the answers.
( He's a house surrounded by a forest of lies and yet Arthur still manages to creep in. )
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comes in a century later with starbucks
Rolling over onto his stomach, he slings an arm around Eames' middle, chin tucked down as he settles. It's strange, because he can already tell he'll be able to relax without much of a problem. That should be alarming, considering how much effort he's spent in not being taken by surprise or just being a living tension rod.
Then again, whatever he can't handle, he knows the forger will. There's a weird safety net in knowing that. ]
Saying anything would damn myself too, you know.
/holds arms open
( It comes out soft, because Arthur's arm around his stomach has a soothing weight that Eames had not anticipated before. His pulse picks up regardless, but the rest of him feels secure. He even feels his eyes closing, fingers drifting to rub a pattern over the bony knob of Arthur's wrist before they fall to the mattress again. )
As if they'd question how you know. You're the keeper of secrets, darling. You could say anything you wanted about me and they'd assume you were just clever enough to steal the answers.
( He's a house surrounded by a forest of lies and yet Arthur still manages to creep in. )