Eames is sloshing something around in a saute pan. "Darling," he calls, "be a duck and hand me the olive oil, will you?"
Arthur mutters a curse under his breath, leaves the files on the table, and pulls the clear green bottle out of a cabinet. Their fingers touch when he hands it over, and Eames's eyes flick up from the pan to meet Arthur's.
Those dimples Arthur's always trying to erase reappear, and Eames wants nothing more in that moment than to kiss him. So he does.
Unfortunately, the pan chooses that moment to set itself aflame, and the kiss is broken by Arthur swearing, Eames laughing, and both of them trying to remember how to put out grease fires.