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Eames anxiously waited at the local café near his dorm for Arthur, this mysterious man that Ariadne set him up with. Part of him wanted to just go back to his room and study for his art history exam or catch up on The Tudors, as inaccurate as it may be, because these kinds of situations were incredibly uncomfortable and even more so because Ari refused to let him see a picture of this Arthur. She was setting him up due to the fact that, at least according to her, he was lonely. Eames highly disputed this considering he preferred to be alone, but there was no stopping Ari once she made her mind up.
He fiddled with his phone, checking the time over and over again. He had 45 minutes until glass blowing and if this date blew up in his face, he might be able to swing by Mr. Miles’ office too. Ten minutes and two raisin oatmeal cookies later, a tall man with curly brown hair falling into his eyes, dressed in a band tee and jeans. He spots Eames almost instantly and strolls over to him, with something sensual in his step.
Eames eyes him as he approaches the table and his mind starts to race with all of the possibilities he never thought of before. This was obviously not going to be one of those blind dates that have you running for the door when you first see the other person. This man was very confident and enchanting. He would have to thank Ari later if things went well because she was truly a saint.
“Eames?”, the other man says gripping the strap of his messenger bag.
He nods, standing and extends his hand to Arthur, who introduces himself and watches as Arthur’s eyes light up and his cheeks dimple.
“As far as first blind dates or first dates go, this isn’t so bad.”
Eames chuckles, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms, and admiring the other man.
“I can say the same. I see Ari has good taste.”
“Ari has shit taste. She mentioned you a week ago when I was helping her study for her pre-calc midterm and showed me some photos. I practically made her set this up.”
Eames looks confused and excited for a moment.
“Hmph, looks like she didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what exactly?”
“That I’m her brother.”