A/N-I could write Eames/Arthur all day! :)

1 am

Eames felt he was in a dream and in his half drunken state and from the pure joy he was feeling he felt for his poker chip in his rumpled pants pocket feeling further satisfied when he knew it was his true totem. He wasn't in a dream, Arthur had actually agreed to something utterly ridiculous. Eames felt flustered and didn't know what to do with himself. He had Arthur at his disposal, possibly for all night!

Arthur was starting another fire, rubbing at his thin arms. Eames capitalized on him being distracted and practically bounced to the kitchen, a spring in his step.

He made drinks for both of them knowing Arthur always hated what he made him, never touching them but with their agreement he would have to drink it-he had to keep an open mind. He was positively gleeful and in his haste he couldn't find the drawer for the utensils so he settled on stirring their concoctions with a finger, hoping he didn't see it but knowing he would. Arthur saw everything.

Eames whirled around, feeling like he was floating on cloud nine and saw to his delight that Arthur was seated at the breakfast nook, face propped up on a fist, looking tired andmiserable.

Eames placed the drink in front of him, taking a sip of his. He made them particularly strong. Making Arthur horny was an art form Eames found and step number one was usually to get him a little drunk.

"I'm not drinking this horrid thing that you stuck your fingers into," he eyed the brown liquid like it was a disease, sweeping up to Eames' face a second later, making a face.

Eames took another long drink of his, loving the burn as it traveled down his throat. He placed his glass down, placing both hands on the clean counter, leaning towards his lover, looking at him deeply.

"Would you rather I stick my fingers in something else?" He felt satisfied with the slight blush that crept up on Arthur's delicate face. He loved making him uncomfortable, he lived for it.

Arthur squirmed a little under his stare. "This is all a lame attempt to have sex with me isn't it?"

Eames swooped up his drink, feeling a grin come on but smothered it by draining his glass. Arthur would need to drink his fast to catch up with him. He wanted them both silly with drink.

"Absolutely."

Arthur released a blurted out laugh, one that Eames knew was disbelieving.

"But why go through all the trouble? Do you think me too cruel to reciprocate if you actually attempted to put some moves on me instead of asking to simply 'fuck'? You know I don't respond to just asking, it has to feel right."

Eames didn't want a lecture. He wanted complacent Arthur, the Arthur he knew when they first met and started the relationship, the Arthur that made moves on him and didn't want to leave the bedroom. He wanted spontaneity and laughter. Arthur picked everything apart and analyzed everything to death. Eames did too but he kept it internal-that's where the two men differed.

Arthur was watching him closely, waiting for a response.

Eames pointed to the brown monstrosity that Arthur hadn't touched. "Did you want wine instead? I'll drink that."

Arthur blinked several times, looking bewildered. He sighed heavily in defeat and nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get a straight answer from the forger and apparently he remembered the "open mind" part of the deal.

Eames moved to open a bottle of wine from Arthur's collection, knowing Arthur was watching him curiously. They would have plenty of time to talk but now he wanted Arthur drunk.

He heard the CHINK of ice hitting glass and he knew Arthur had tested the drink he made him.

He paused in opening the bottle, his back to him, waiting for it.

"Despite dirty fingers this is actually tolerable. I'll drink the wine later." He heard ice hitting glass again.

Eames wanted to scoop him up and carry him to the bedroom, feeling the flood of alcohol and affection rush his system but he would have to stick to the delicate and intricate plan and he would have to resist for the time being.

Eames made himself another drink, careful not to make it too strong. He would drink it slower too, let Arthur catch up.

When he finally turned around to face him again he had finished the drink he made him. Eames had to stifle back a look of surprise. Arthur caught his stare and a little grin creeped up on his face-one that Eames loved all too much.

"What? You don't think I can drink anything but wine? I can out drink you." These were both ridiculous statements and both men knew it.

Eames laughed. He rarely saw Arthur reach for anything but wine and the smaller man could hold his alcohol but Eames had five years and more weight on him. Eames thought desperately for what to say. If Arthur was challenging him then he would definitely do it, he just didn't want his point man to get falling down drunk, too intoxicated for love making.

"Are you proposing a new deal? A deal within a deal?" He took a small sip of his new drink feeling vindicated. Maybe Arthur would enjoy himself tonight.

Arthur cracked his knuckles, looking a little flushed from the strong drink he downed.

"Yes. I'll wager I can drink more than you tonight. If I win then I get to shave you. If I lose then you get to do something to me, non sex related of course."

Eames would have let Arthur shave him anyway if he just asked. In fact he probably would do anything if Arthur just asked. He was perplexed but intrigued by the new deal. He wasn't sure what Arthur's angle was. Was he just trying to keep up with the silliness of the evening? Was it the drink all ready working through his small system? Maybe deep down he really just wanted to shave his five o'clock shadow and couldn't work up the nerve to actually ask him? He felt like losing the deal just to let him do it but where would the fun in that be?

Eames swirled his drink, looking at the brown liquid as it twirled around and around.

"Ok, I agree to the new deal on one condition. We drink slowly, no need to rush and I want you coherent for the first part of the deal."

Arthur nodded, leaving the bar stool and was walking around to the kitchen with his empty glass. Eames felt like blocking him again but decided against it. Arthur seemed like he was finally in a good mood and he didn't want to spoil it.

He came up next to him, reaching for the bottle that Eames had been using to fix their drinks. Arthur didn't know shit about bartending or mixing drinks and Eames repressed a laugh. Arthur didn't like asking for help so he did it for him.

Eames gingerly took his glass; leaning into him until he could take in his smell, feeling intoxicated by it. Arthur responded the way he wanted him too and leaned in further still, brushing his lips to his lightly, breaking away a second later, a tease of a kiss. Eames tried to come in for another but Arthur playfully thwarted him, busy getting some ice out of the freezer.

Eames was stunned as the realization hit him. Arthur was playing his own game and had devised his own plan!