Arthur came out of yet another meeting which should have been an email to a message from Mal in the group text.

—Arthur which do you prefer, black or brown?

Arthur, amused, texted back.

—For what?

—Anything. Shoes, toast, men. Just pick one.

—Brown. Why?

—Because I'm tired of hearing about it.

Arthur raised his eyebrows at that but Eames didn't weigh in, and he had a few things to finish up on the Stanover redesign. This would be, he assumed, the one project he worked on as both architect and supervisor, and he was excited. Robert's promotion had been announced last week, and this would be the week they conducted "interviews" before the "decision" was made on who moved up a spot. But Arthur had worked here for a long time, and everyone already knew.

The next time his phone pinged, it was a picture from Eames; a snap of Buzz, nose-to-nose with a bunny on the floor of the exam room.

—Sorry, Arthur. Buzz's new favorite is this lop.

He laughed and texted back.

—Brb, upping my game.

Mal sent three rows of heart-eye emojis and Arthur couldn't lie, he loved getting Eames' vet snaps. And he knew Eames was busy and at work, but he couldn't help being a little disappointed he was getting group chat snaps and no commentary. He took a picture of his empty coffee mug with the caption #Betrayal and Eames responded with a laughing emoji right away, so he switched to Eames' DMs.

—Hey.

—Hey yourself, darling.

Arthur bounced his knee a few times, then typed —Thanks for listening last night.

—Anytime. was the immediate response, and Arthur wasn't sure how to take that. He waited to see if there was anything else, but then someone came in asking questions and he didn't get back to his phone for almost an hour. When he did, there were 15 unread messages in the group chat and one in his DMs.

—I'd like to take you out again.

Arthur realized he was grinning widely at his phone when there was a knock on his door jamb and he had to school his face into some semblance of normal. It might have been too late though, judging from their anxious look. When he finally got rid of them, he texted back,

—Yeah? Something a little less morose this time?

—Laser tag it is. Are you any good?

Arthur laughed. —Ah fuck. :( I'm amazing :( I'm really sad about how badly I'm going to kick your ass. You'll be so humiliated you won't want to see me again. :( :(

Eames just sent back an "LOL," and Arthur really felt he'd given him sufficient warning. It wasn't his fault if Eames didn't heed it.

—Drinks at my place afterward? Arthur offered. Then followed up immediately with —I promise not to try anything.

There was about a half-hour delay before he got Eames' response.

—I make no such promises, darling.

Arthur slunk through the maze crafted out of foam blocks and packing crates, at one with the blackness. His laser gun held at the ready, he strafed around corners, his ears tuned to his prey, every one of his senses on high alert. Eames, on the other hand, was large and loud, and had worn cologne and a linen jacket for "post-laser-tag-drinks, darling." He was basically a beacon in the dark, even without the laser tag vest. Arthur grinned.

He was crouching next to a stack of boxes looking for Arthur in the completely wrong direction, and Arthur felt a warm glow somewhere in his chest. God, he was terrible at this. Arthur, however, had had a group of friends in school who'd gone out once a week to play and were all just competitive enough they couldn't stop until they got their names on the leaderboard. He was currently up six kills to Eames' zero and was starting to feel a little bad.

He ducked back around his dark corner with a sigh. Maybe he could let Eames get one shot in. With his foot, he moved the stack of crates next to him and lowered his weapon. Then he waited.

Eames' approach was quieter than he anticipated, and Arthur didn't hear him until Eames was right on top of him. He waited for the buzz indicating he'd been hit, but what he got instead was the bulk of a veterinarian who was terrible at laser tag pushing him up against the wall. The air whooshed out of him with a grunt and all he could see was Eames' excited grin flashing.

"Found you," Eames rumbled, and Arthur couldn't quite suppress his smile.

"It's not hide and seek, Eames," he chastised, but Eames was pressing up against him, his hands finding his hips. "Are you even holding your gun?"

"Oh, that's not my gun, darling."

Arthur rolled his eyes but slotted his leg between Eames' anyway. He was warm and solid, and his mouth was right there, and Arthur had been thinking about kissing him the whole night. Ever since he'd shown up in that ridiculous jacket, needing help with the laser tag vest, Arthur was cursing his promise to be a gentleman. But if Eames was going to start it, he had no problem finishing it.

"If this is how you take down all your opponents, I'm glad we didn't play against anyone else," Arthur said, their breaths mixing in the dark. Eames canted their hips together and Arthur bit back a groan. God, Eames was infuriating, and he was far too wound up by the way Eames was looking at him like that. Then Eames bent to run his lips over Arthur's neck and Arthur was done. He melted into Eames, grateful for the wall behind him and tipped his head back, silently begging for more. And Eames obliged, one hand cupping his ass and groping, pulling them together, and kissing him in a way that made the world around them disappear.

Which, of course, was when Eames shot him in the chest.

The buzz of his vest made him freeze, and he pulled back to see that wonky smile beaming at him in the dark.

"You bastard," Arthur growled, and Eames giggled with glee, jumping back and dashing away.

"All's fair, darling," he said over his shoulder, and Arthur gave himself a moment to try and will himself into a presentable state.

Two could play at that game.

"I can't believe you got me banned from the laser tag place," Arthur griped on their way to the car.

"Me!?" Eames grinned. "You were the one undoing my belt when they turned the lights on, love."

Arthur scowled in response because that was true and yet still not his fault because Eames had been sucking on his ear and what exactly was he supposed to do?

Eames hadn't gotten any more kills in, but to be honest neither had Arthur, who had been so thoroughly distracted he might not have even noticed if Eames had. He had a feeling Eames didn't mind so much.

Arthur unlocked the car and slipped into the driver's seat, only to be confronted with an armful of Eames as soon as he closed the door. The bigger man pushed the air out of him as he crowded into Arthur's space, kissing him breathless in record time.

"Eames," he gusted, fingers tangled in his hair, sipping at those beautiful lips.

"Sorry about the laser tag," Eames said in between kisses, and Arthur huffed a laugh across his mouth.

"Worth it," he said, and Eames seemed to agree. His hands pulled Arthur's shirt from his slacks, warm palms sliding over his skin and lighting fires wherever he touched. "Fuck, you feel so good," Arthur confessed in the humid confines of his car.

Eames just hummed, low and husky, and rasped his stubble over Arthur's jaw.

Arthur wanted more, wanted to be able to touch, see, taste with abandon. But all he could do was hang on as Eames moved over his body, dropping kisses and leaving fingerprints in frustrating and delicious places.

"I want," Eames said, kissing him, "to absolutely, fucking, wreck you."

Jesus fucking Christ. Arthur tried to catch his breath. "My place is 15 minutes away," he said, licking his lips and hoping Eames would have a better idea. Like the idea that was straying closer and closer to his erection.

But Eames backed up, flushed and breathing just as hard as Arthur. He gave him a devilish grin. "Mine is ten. Drive Arthur. Drive really, really fast."

Arthur nodded frantically. "Yeah."

They made it in eight.

Arthur woke up in the middle of the night to Buzz jumping on the bed and trying to burrow unnoticed into the space between them. He groaned and tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed to give the big dog more room.

Eames stirred. "Do you want him out?" he sleep mumbled. "I can put him out."

"No, 's fine," Arthur slurred into his pillow. "I like it," and went back to sleep.

In the morning, when Arthur woke for real, Eames was talking quietly to Buzz in the kitchen, and there was, thankfully, the smell of coffee. God, Arthur felt hungover. Could you get a hangover from too much good sex? He smirked to himself as he staggered to the bathroom. He had nothing against finding out.

"Good morning," Eames said lightly, pushing a mug across the counter. "How did you sleep?"

It was nice, polite, and kind. Which was fine, but Arthur didn't want that. He wanted what Eames had offered the first morning, the morning he'd fucked it all up. He wanted rumpled, soft Eames, looking at his mischievously and asking to get respected again. Arthur ignored the coffee and pushed himself into Eames' arms.

"Mmm," Arthur hummed into his neck. "I slept with you."

Eames chuckled and obliged Arthur's request for a hug. "You did, at that. And how was it?"

Arthur pulled back, and there, there was the mischievous look he'd been angling for. He raised an eyebrow. "It included a dog if I remember correctly."

"Oi! That was after!" Eames squawked. "And you said you liked it!"

Arthur laughed. "I did?" He dropped a kiss on Eames' throat, just above his collar. "Well, there was a part there where I wasn't completely coherent."

"Oh yeah? Which part was that?"

Eames was running his hands over Arthur with a little more intent, and Arthur lost the thread of what they were talking about. He stroked over Eames' scruffy beard and kissed him, coffee and morning breath be damned. He was so wrong when he thought he wanted a fling. He didn't want a fling. He wanted this. Flings were stupid. Flings didn't give you the look Eames was giving him as he backed him into the bedroom, with an intensity that said, "I will make you completely incoherent for the rest of the day, I swear it."

Eames stripped off his shirt and Arthur made sure the door was shut despite Buzz's puppy-dog eyes. Then he slipped his fingers in the waistband of Eames' sleep pants and worked them off. He wasn't hard yet, not completely, and Arthur maneuvered him back until he was sitting on the bed. Arthur dropped to his knees and got his mouth around him, loving the feel of Eames stiffening under his ministrations. He worked his tongue under Eames' foreskin and stroked him firmly, shouldering his legs apart.

"Fuck's sake," Eames groaned and dropped back onto his elbows, head lolling and eyes shut.

God, Arthur wanted to bring him off like this. Eames was gorgeous, coiled muscles and tattooed skin in the morning sunlight. But Arthur also wanted more. He wanted to press Eames into the mattress with his weight, watch his eyes, and show him that he wanted this.

When Eames was panting and his hips were twitching, Arthur pulled back. "Hey, grab that," he told him, gesturing with his chin to the lube on the nightstand. Eames lay back and stretched as far as he was able, but it was well out of reach.

"Ugh, it's so far away. Feel free to continue while I get it."

With a mock sigh and an eye roll, Arthur gave him one final lick before he got up and retrieved it and a condom from the drawer. He was back between Eames' knees and admiring the view as Eames moved up to give him room.

"This okay?" he asked, even as Eames drew his knee up.

"Better than, pet," Eames said with a grin.

Arthur knelt on the bed and worked the condom on himself, fingers steadier than they'd been last night. For the first time in a long time, he knew what he wanted.

Eames hissed in a breath at the touch of his fingers slicked with cold lube, and Arthur kissed him, tongue plundering as he teased and breached, distracting him and sliding them together. He couldn't get enough of Eames' skin, his body pressed against his own. Close wasn't close enough. He wanted to melt them together, create enough heat that they fused just like this, Eames spread wide and Arthur's lips worshiping everything he could reach.

With each roll of his hips, he sank into Eames, clasping their hands together and resting his forehead on Eames'. God, he was so beautiful. Slow, he chanted to himself. Slow, slow, slow. You've got time. He's not going anywhere.

He pulled back to look at Eames, blue-gray eyes rolling and a little wild, but when they met his, Arthur's heart clenched.

"I…"

Arthur surged forward to kiss Eames and stop the insane words threatening to tumble from his mouth.

Eames groaned into his mouth, the change in angle apparently hitting all the right spots and before Arthur could catch up, Eames' was arching into him with a shout and coating them both in his spend.

"Jesus," Eames wheezed, "Jesus, Arthur, I'm sorry, I…" He collapsed on the bed, limp and wrung out. "Just, give me a tick and I'll suck you or… Jesus. Something. Fuck."

"It's okay," Arthur murmured, kissing his neck. "It's okay."

He held Eames as they caught their breath, trying not to think. Eames made a noise as he softened and pulled out, and Arthur kissed him again. He didn't want to stop kissing him. He didn't want to stop doing anything with Eames and what the hell was wrong with him?

"Gnngh, that was…" Eames breathed. He sighed, contentedly, eyes closed, and Arthur stood up. He took in the sight of naked Eames, drifting towards sleep, fucked out and happy, and pulled the sheet over him.

"I'm just going to grab a shower," Arthur said, and Eames hummed, but he wasn't sure he'd heard him.

He felt a surge of anger at himself as he washed. This was just an infatuation or something. He just needed a little bit of time away from Eames because he'd clearly been thinking about him too much. He'd just take a step back and get his shit together and it would be fine. Eames didn't even have to know. And Arthur would still be able to see him, still be able to fuck him. He'd just have to keep it together, that's all.

Eames was asleep when he got out, but Buzz was dancing at the door, begging to be allowed in. Arthur complied, smiling and shaking his head as Buzz immediately jumped on the bed and curled next to Eames. When he let himself out of Eames' apartment with a quiet snick of the door, he promised himself he was done thinking about him for at least the rest of the day.

He made it until he got home to feed Frank, hand going to his phone to take yet another blurry picture of his fish. And, if he was being honest with himself, it had been a very deliberate train of thought which had kept his brain for settling on Eames.

Eames made him happy, he relented. Since his mom had died, hell, even before then, it had been a while since he'd felt like this. In the short amount of time he'd known Eames, he'd felt—

Arthur broke off his line of thinking. He wasn't going to examine his feelings, not when they were still counting the number of weeks they'd been dating. He was going to go for a run and then eat an entire bag of Cheetos, and he wasn't going to feel guilty about it. Then he was going to take a nap and pick up his dry cleaning and then sit down with a book and a cup of tea. Except not tea because that made him think of Eames. See? This was totally doable.

Except mid-bag of Cheetos, Dom called him and he ended up working from home for the rest of the weekend. When Eames texted him later that night, he wasn't even lying when he replied that he was swamped and hating Dom's entire life, and he wished he was doing anything except this, but he really didn't have time to talk. Eames said he understood and he'd talk to him Monday, and Arthur left his kiss-face emoji text on unread because it gave him something to look forward to.

Monday was meeting after meeting where he thought about nothing but how Eames was probably texting him right now, and he was missing it to listen to these assholes and their stupid questions. Except he wasn't supposed to be thinking about Eames, so he pinched his leg and tried to pay attention. Except, was it really so bad to think about Eames sometimes? He was still dating the man. He was allowed to enjoy him. Except that sent his brain on a tangent about enjoying Eames, which was definitely not conducive to constructive meetings and he was definitely thinking about Eames, so he practically sprinted from the conference room when they called for a break.

There were 37 messages in the group chat, and Arthur found himself grinning like an idiot as he read through them. He could picture Mal and Eames, one in the back and one in the front, teasing each other via text about how SOMEone must have had a good weekend, and how maybe if SOMEone would have good weekends more often, then SOMEone wouldn't complain about cleaning out the guinea pig cages so much. Hell, they might have been sitting right next to each other as they were typing.

Arthur felt a familiar and dangerous twinge in his chest area at that mental image and he put his phone down quickly. It chimed moments later, just as he was standing up to head back to the conference room, and he almost didn't pick it up.

But he did, and he saw that Mal had sent a photo. Without thinking, he clicked on it as he walked back into yet another meeting before he could finally get started on his work for the day.

The picture was taken from the top down of Eames lying on the ground, laughing, being crawled on by five cream-colored kittens.

Arthur stopped walking.

He found himself standing, stock-still, in the middle of the hallway, staring at his phone as people diverted around him.

His throat clicked as he tried to swallow past the lump there, and with shaking hands and an aching chest, he typed a quick text to Eames.

—I think we should take a break for a while.

And then he went to a fucking meeting.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as they were starting back up, and Arthur made it a total of five minutes before he pulled it out under the table to check it.

—Oh, really? Why's that?

It was so casual and calm that it made Arthur scowl. He was breaking up with Eames here, he could do him the courtesy of being more than curious.

—Does it matter? He typed quickly and hit send.

Eames' reply came seconds later.

—Actually yes, I think it matters very much

"Arthur?" Dom leaned in to whisper to him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just…" He put his phone in his pocket. "Sorry about that."

He found himself bouncing his knee and waited until he could retrieve it once more before quickly tapping out an answer.

—You were right. We're going too fast. Plus, I work a lot. I'm in a meeting right now so I can't talk.

He hit send and put his phone back in his pocket, telling himself he wasn't going to look at it when he got a reply. Except… except he didn't get a reply. The phone stayed still and silent, for two, then five, then fifteen minutes. The meeting dragged on, although he hadn't heard a word said, and his knee continued to jiggle. Dom started shooting concerned looks his way, and Arthur just wanted to get out of the damn meeting and go get something actually done for the first time today.

A knock sounded on the conference room door and the front desk secretary peered in.

"Arthur?" she asked in a stage whisper as if every head in the room hadn't swiveled to them when she came in. "There's someone here for you. It seems like it might be an emergency?"

Oh, Arthur, don't be silly…

Arthur looked to Dom, who nodded, and Arthur excused himself quietly. No one moved or spoke until he was gone, and Arthur had one thought in his head as he followed Janet to the front. God, please not Alex. Please. I can't lose her too.

His knees felt weak when he got to the entranceway and saw not a pair of cops, not a solemn man in a suit, but Eames dressed in scrubs and his bright orange tennis shoes, tattoos and scruff and lips.

Janet was blatantly watching them and Arthur invited Eames back to his office with a tilt of his head.

He held the door open for Eames and then closed it securely behind him, but waited until he was safely behind his desk before he spoke.

"Everything alright, darling?" Eames said first.

Arthur frowned and waved a hand. "Janet said 'emergency' and I thought…"

With a start, Eames realized the problem and looked down at his scrubs in horror. "Oh, Arthur, I'm so sorry to have given you a fright."

"It's fine," Arthur cut him off. "Actually it got me out of a very unnecessary meeting. Why are you here?"

He tried to keep his voice neutral but he wasn't sure he accomplished it based on Eames' raised eyebrow.

"Well, I just figured we should get this 'break' figured out as soon as possible. That way it can be over sooner and we can go back to where we are now."

"But that's the problem," Arthur burst out with frustration. "You said it yourself. We were too intimate too fast, and now I'm—"

"Now wait just a minute," Eames said, still calm, still polite. "I didn't say that."

"You did; you said—"

"I said we fucked too soon. Intimate is what I wanted."

Arthur stopped.

Eames looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. "That's what you're worried about? We're being too intimate too fast?"

"Because it's too much!" Arthur shouted. "I don't… I can't… we've only been dating for a few weeks! And I'm not really comfortable with everything I'm feeling when we're only at this stage of a relationship. So I was just suggesting that maybe we need to cool it for a little while because I don't want—"

He broke off, hands on hips, and Eames crossed his arms, waiting. "You don't want what, darling?" he finally asked when Arthur didn't continue.

Arthur couldn't look at him. "I don't want to lose you," he muttered to his desk. "Okay?" He looked up to see Eames looking a little stunned and felt a flicker of anger. "I don't want to do something stupid, or forget something important, and fuck everything up, and be a complete basketcase again when you realize I'm not good enough. And I can't do that. Not when we haven't even been dating that long." He plowed a hand through his hair, realizing he'd been shouting. He swallowed and tried again. "I shouldn't feel this way already."

Eames was there, pulling him into his arms, whispering Arthur's name against his temple. Arthur wrapped his shaking hands around Eames' waist, taking comfort in the feel of him, his steadiness, his surety. They stayed that way for a while, just breathing, and Arthur let Eames make him feel better.

Eames finally pulled back, cupping Arthur's face in his wide hands. "Darling." He smiled, his crooked teeth doing things to Arthur's heart. "Your feelings are your feelings. You're allowed them. And we can go as slow as you want, okay?"

He kissed Arthur and Arthur gasped a broken sound into his mouth. When he pulled back, there were tears on his cheeks he was fairly sure were his own, and he hugged Eames hard.

"Shh," Eames murmured. "One day at a time, right? That's all. Just today. We can do today, yeah?"

Arthur nodded against his shoulder and Eames soothed him, running his palms over his back and arms.

"Okay," he said. "In that case, I have something for you."

Arthur sniffed and pulled away, wiping his face while Eames was pulling something from his waistband. It was a thin rectangle wrapped in Santa Claus paper, and Arthur looked at Eames curiously.

He shrugged sheepishly. "It was the only paper I had."

Arthur's lips twitched and he took the package from him. He tore the paper slowly, revealing a soft brown Moleskin notebook. A quick flip of the pages showed its blank lines, waiting for a heavy pen to imbue them with purpose.

"So you can write things down," Eames said, cradling Arthur's hands in his own. "And you won't have to worry about forgetting anything."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed. "Fuck. I love you. I love you already."

Eames smiled and stroked a thumb across his cheek. "Love you too, darling. Been gone on you from the start."

Arthur laughed, even with tears in his eyes. "Frank is going to be insufferable with his 'I-told-you-so's."

And Eames laughed and kissed him.

Epilogue:

"Eames, where's the wrapping paper?" Arthur yelled from where his head was buried in the closet.

"I don't have any!"

Arthur extracted himself and frowned in Eames' direction. Buzz looked at him in sympathy. After some digging, he unearthed the roll of Santa Claus paper he knew Eames had stashed somewhere and wrapped the two presents they were taking with them.

"Coffee?" Eames asked as he came into the kitchen.

"Just in a travel mug," he answered. "We've got to get going if we're going to be there on time. Do you think Buzz will be okay in the car?"

"Course he will, won't you, mate?" Eames said, kneeling down to scratch his neck. Buzz's tail hit Arthur in the legs.

"Okay, then, we ready?"

Eames stood. "Almost, just as soon as I…" He leaned in and kissed Arthur thoroughly.

He pulled back, grinning and Arthur looked at his watch.

"You know, I think we've got a few minutes before we really need to leave."

Alex seemed delighted when they showed up late.

"Spaz, he is definitely a good influence on you. I can't believe you're not twenty minutes before I have everything set up."

Eames smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Alex, it's lovely to meet you, and I can already tell you're my favorite of Arthur's siblings."

She laughed, and Arthur rolled his eyes. God, but he loved this man.

"Well, since you didn't get here insanely early, you didn't beat all the other guests."

"Ah, yes," Arthur said. "Finally, the mysterious girlfriend. You know Mom would have freaked out that we didn't have a huge shindig the second you two started dating, let alone moved in together."

"Well, turns out there was a house I sort of owned, her lease was up… it just worked out," she said, shrugging. "But it's good. It's actually really good. She's great; you're going to love her."

"Hey," Arthur said, looking at her seriously. "As long as it feels right to you, it's right. Okay?"

She gave him a funny look. "I know."

"Okay," he said. "Just wanted to make sure."

She led the way to the dining room and Eames took his hand.

"Hey, babe," Alex said, "my brother and Eames are here. This is Arthur, and Arthur, this is my girlfriend—"

"Ariadne," Arthur said. "Good to see you again."

Eames and Alex stared at him.

"You two know each other?"

Arthur nodded. "We met through Frank."

"Sorry, but who the hell is Frank?" Alex asked.

And Eames just laughed. "Looks like he's brought several people into your life, darling."

Arthur leaned into him and smiled. "And a healthy slime buildup too."