Work Text:
Eames has been waiting for what feels like forever for Arthur to turn to the next page in the moleskine laid out in front of him on the desk. It’s been three agonizing days since Eames scrawled Darling, will you have dinner with me? into the notebook while Arthur was out grabbing coffee.
Since then, Eames has been watching Arthur more than he normally would, waiting. Not for the first time, Eames’ gut clenches at the thought that Arthur might have seen the note and is ignoring his proposition.
From across the room at his own desk, Eames watches as Arthur raises a finger to his mouth and gives the pad of his finger a quick kitten-lick, before turning to a fresh page.
Arthur’s spine stiffens the moment he lays eyes on the dark smudge of Eames’ writing running vertical with the spine of the notebook. Eames’ heartbeat quickens, pounding loud against his ribcage, as Arthur frowns and scribbles something onto the page. He drops his pen with a clatter, pushing up from his chair without sparing Eames a glance as he strides toward him.
Arthur tosses the moleskine into Eames’ lap, the tone of his voice revealing nothing when he says, “Read it.”
Eames picks up the moleskine and flips through the pages full of Arthur’s writing until he finds the one marked by his own penmanship. Arthur’s precise handwriting stands out boldly in the middle of the mostly blank page: Yes.
A sly smile spreads across Arthur’s lips, revealing a hint of dimples, as Eames looks up at him. Arthur leans down, his lips brushing against Eames’ as he whispers, “But how about we order in?”
Eames closes the space between them, sealing their mouths together, and lets the kiss answer for him.