It was Sunday and Arthur was walking down the street towards his suit shop. Okay, it is not his but since he shops there for every other suit; it might as well be his. And someone was following him for sure, he just did not know who.
When Arthur stepped into the shop, he was immediately greated by by the tailor whom he shook hands with.
"The suit you ordered has been made, why don't you try it on? The third stall is empty," said the tailor politely before handing him a two piece suit on a hanger, all ironed without a single crease.
For every new suit Arthur gets try on, it is almost like Christmas. The touch of new fabric that has been carefully tailored, cut to fit his built and colour coordinated for each purpose makes every penny, pound and dollar worth it.
Arthur took a quick glance at himself in the mirror before stepping out of the changing room stall. He was greeted with a strong British accent.
"I think the suit fits you rather swell, love," smirked Eames who was leaning against the counter, taking his time to examine Arthur from head to toe.
Arthur looked up and saw Eames in one of his flamboyant shirts.
"It was you," snarled Arthur, pointing at Eames.
"Me what, Arthur?" said Eames carelessly as if he was simply striking up a conversation.
"You were the one that followed me into this shop."
Eames simply shrug it off and continued to stare at Arthur who was now standing in front of the full length mirror with the tailor fixing his suit. The tailor was working on the sleeves, making sure they were connected at the shoulders properly. Arthur tried his very best to concentrate on the tailor's meticulous work of pinning his jacket but he could not help but gaze at Eames through the mirror once in a while. He was not use to someone paying so much attention to him; it also seemed that Eames could look right through him and read his thoughts.
"Sir, why don't you see if this fits better. I'll go and get some selection of ties go with this suit,"said the tailor before leaving. Arthur snaped out of his thoughts only to have Eames standing right behind him.
"I think an emerald green tie would suit you best, don't you think?" asked Eames who had locked eyes with Arthur through the mirror and smiled. He was standing so close that Arthur could almost feel every breathe exhaled from Eames's mouth as he spoke.
Arthur could feel his heart beat faster.
"Or maybe a navy one?" Asked Eames once again, although clearly he was not looking for an answer.
The tailor came back with a small rack of silk ties that Eames swiftly took one and placed it around Arthur's neck and walked round to face him. As if suddenly Eames became Arthur's personal assistant, he poped Arthur's collar and skillfully tied a windsor knot. By the he was done, Arthur realized he had been holding his breath the entire time.
"It's red," said Arthur.
"It is," responded Eames.
"I'll get the jacket fixed for Thursday sir," said the tailor who broke the silence and the tension, and that Arthur was greatful for. Arthur took off his jacket gracefully giving it to the tailor before walking back to the stall to change. He did not say a word when Eames followed him in.
Once Arthur opened the door, he found himself sat down on the bench immediately followed by the door slamming shut and Eames cupping his jaw roughly with one hand and kissing him. Arthur knew this was coming but it was not what he expected; he hardly knew where to put his hands. Eames tried to pull him closer with his tie but their position was far too uncomfortable, but it did not stop Eames slipping his tongue into Arthur's mouth.
Arthur soon got hold of Eames's shirt and pushed him back against the wall. All he could focus on was getting rid of that hideous shirt, hitching it higher and higher until he could thumb Eames's nipple and give it a suggestive lick. There was a responsive moan from Eames who cradled the back of Arthur's head to pull him closer.
Arthur could already feel his dress shirt getting wrinkled but he could care less right now because Eames was using his knee to nudge between his legs. Arthur was about to kneel down when Eames pulled him back up for a kiss before saying,
"Not here, darling," he was rather out of breath. Arthur was about to slap him.
"What? You are the one that was seducing me and then followed me in here!" Arthur could not believe this, it was usually him that was the one with self control and that one time, one time he let himself go, Eames is there to 'correct' him? He was about to go back on his knees when Eames open his mouth again.
"I've rented a room, two blocks away," heaved Eames. Arthur only stared at him before standing back and straightening himself.
"It better not be far," said Arthur, giving Eames a rather sinister look.
The two walked out the stall seperately holding their jackets in front of them, but they were fooling no one.