It wasn't hard to find Eames at lunchtime the next day, as he was usually the focus of a large portion of the Slytherin table.
He was charismatic, Arthur was willing to admit. People certainly loved him, that was for sure. Eames knew a little bit about everything, making it incredibly easy for him to chat with anyone around him about anything that they might be interested in.
Which, in turn, made it impossible for Arthur to understand why Eames was so supposedly infatuated with him. He had at least a quarter of the Slytherin house hanging off of his every word as he walked them through the story of when he had sent Robert Fisher fake letters from a woman he'd made up named "Tallulah" for an entire year, causing Robert Fisher to fall deeply in love with a fake woman Eames had made up.
Just as Eames was getting to the punch line, Arthur decided to make his move.
Arthur huffed and made his way up to Eames, arms folded across his chest. "Eames." He snapped, immediately calling attention to himself. "Come with me, please." It sounded more like a demand when it came out of his mouth, but Arthur didn't care.
Eames stood immediately. "Be back, mates. Arthur's more important than you lot." He gave them a wink and followed Arthur away.
"What's this about, Arthur?"
"Just want to talk to you, Eames."
"I'm always happy to talk to you, Arthur." Eames purred in that stupidly cute way he always did.
"I never said I was happy about it." Arthur crossed his arms as they strode down the corridor, towards one of the courtyards overlooking the Scottish countryside.
"Happy about talking to me?" Eames trailed behind faithfully, hands in his pockets.
"About the whole situation really." Arthur finally came to a stop near one of the many stone benches, but did not sit down.
"The, uh, me 'stalking' you situation?" Eames' smirk faded. "Look, Arthur, I… I really like you. My way of showing you isn't great, I've been trying…"
"Don't get me wrong, your methods are, quite frankly, terrible. But I, unfortunately, am inexplicably attracted to you. And your methods are, regrettably, part of your charm." Arthur spat it out like it was a bad thing. "You, Eames, are, for some reason, the occupation of most of my thoughts as of late. And I'd like to give it a try."
Eames beamed. "Oh, Arthur. They say that love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind-"
"You want me to reconsider?"
"-and therefore is winged cupid painted blind."
Arthur rolled his eyes and closed the space between them in a single stride. "Shut up, for once." He grabbed Eames' tie and dragged him down until their lips were pressed together, forceful yet soft.
"You just admitted you liked me, Arthur. Doesn't give you much room to protest my shakespeare quoting."
"I very reluctantly like you, Eames."
"Oi, you were the one who told me to go read Hamlet. This is your fault."
"Oh shut up." Arthur groaned, yanking on Eames' tie until they were kissing again.
