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They're a little drunk, both on adrenaline and alcohol. A boyish giddiness runs through both of them at the success of their job. The payout was good, and now they have nothing lined up for the next 4 weeks but a shared bed and sleeping in, lazing away in the hammock Arthur hung up on the back deck.
Eames has Arthur pulled close, flush against his body, as they blindly maneuver through the mostly darkened house. A hazardous activity, but both of them know this house inside and out, like the layout of a maze they're dreaming up. And even drunk, they make it through without breaking anything. Though, it's close.
Eames is kissing up Arthur's neck, whispering against his skin, filth and endearments, a ridiculous but spot-on impression of their extractor that makes Arthur giggle, actually giggle.
Eames loves when Arthur giggles. It isn't something that happens often at all, but if he's in the right mood, and if there's enough liquor involved, it will come out of hiding. Eames lives for those moments, savors them, tucks them away in his chest with the other things marked "Arthur."
Eames says, "Do you know what I love?" And he can feel Arthur shake his head no in reply. They've made it to the hallway now, stumbling towards their bedroom door.
"I love your dimples," he says, nipping at the sensitive skin of Arthur's neck.
"I love your arse." Eames punctuates this by hauling Arthur closer by his arse and giving it a firm squeeze. Arthur breathes out a small noise, and pushes back into Eames’ hands.
"I love your dedication to work and solving problems, even when you prove me wrong." At that, Arthur huffs out a laugh.
Eames makes his way further up Arthur's neck, kissing and sucking in between listing all the things he can think of that he loves about Arthur. It's a long list, and he's sure he's forgetting at least a million things on it.
"And do you know what else I love, kitten?" Eames speaks the words right against the shell of Arthur's ear, a whisper that makes Arthur shudder. He sucks Arthur's earlobe into his mouth, and then trails his tongue to the soft skin behind it, says, "I love your ears."
Arthur scoffs and tries to push him away, but Eames has managed to get them into the bedroom now, and he tackles Arthur to the bed, landing on top of him.
"They're ridiculously adorable, you know. The way they stick out, just a little," he continues, brushing his thumb against one.
Arthur squawks, "They don't stick out!" He brings his hands up as if to hide his ears, and Eames pins his wrists to the bed.
"Do too." He kisses Arthur to shut him up. "And it's adorable," he adds.
Arthur scowls at him, but either it's the alcohol or his heart isn't really in it because it's not a very good scowl.
Eames laughs. "It was a compliment, darling!" He bumps his nose into Arthur's, feels him relax under him a little at the gesture.
"If you say so."
"I do," Eames murmurs. "I really do, kitten."