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Their wedding is perfect, better than either of them had ever hoped for. (Arthur expected to live alone until the end of his days, and Eames had dreaded a sparkly scene with a tearful bride). Eames wore a black, faintly pinstriped suit that (for once) fit him beautifully and Arthur wore a grey outfit with a silk waistcoat. Side by side with their hands clasped in front of the celebrant, they looked like two halves of a whole, finally joined.
The reception is at a large restaurant with delicious food and a dessert buffet ("If you don’t want anything other than fruitcake with white fondant, Eames, too bad. There will be a chocolate fountain and sticky date pudding and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it."), and only a few speeches. ("Have you ever been to a wedding, darling? Nobody likes the speeches except for close family members and bosom buddies. Everyone else sits there being bored out of their minds. And no, Cobb doesn't get to say anything. No. No. Do you want seven flavours of ice cream or not?")
After the congratulations, the obligatory dance and the tonnes of food, Arthur and Eames manage to slip out at nine-thirty, to catcalls from the people who don't know them so well; the rest just wave them off with smiles and hugs.
They go back to the house they share and take off their suits, jumping around in their undershirts for a bit as they admire their white gold rings, then they each take a shower and get into their pyjamas. Arthur puts the extended edition of The Return of the King in the DVD player and they snuggle up under their favourite knitted blanket, Eames controlling the remote so that they can fast forward through the Frodo scenes. They press close to each other and go wild during all the battles, just like always, and relive their favourite moments using pillows for swords when it finishes.
"Goodnight, darling," Eames says, embracing Arthur in the warmth of his arms and pressing a kiss to his cheek while Arthur noses into the curve of Eames's neck and inhales his familiar scent.
"Love you," Arthur says.
"Love you too," replies Eames, and he turns off the lights before they go into their adjoining rooms and climb into their beds.
"Don't wake me up too early tomorrow," Eames calls.
"As long as you buy that ciabatta I like before the shop closes," Arthur replies.
They switch their lights off and absently touch the rings on their fingers, dreaming of the spending rest of their lives together.