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Arthur had deliberately chosen this pet shop because it was locally owned and it was supposed to have been tiny, so he could take his time looking at all the rodents and fish available for sale and choose one - possibly a sweet little gerbil that he could actually pet, but he wasn't averse to a tank full of fish he could set up in his bedroom to watch to help soothe him to sleep.
Anyway, this was meant to have been a little pet shop he could go to, and early enough in the morning that maybe it would be just him and the animals and the necessary presence of the shop owners, but he could have ignored that. But his research must not have been as spot-on as he would have liked, because apparently the shop had been taken over by a brand-name pet store.
Dealing with other people had never been Arthur's strong suit. They always seemed to misunderstand him, or maybe he really was as much of an asshole as they inevitably ended up thinking.
So, when he arrived at the pet shop that morning, his jaw dropped a little at the amount of people already there, and his hands were tight on the wheel of his car as two people in matching t-shirts erected a sign that read, in eye-catchingly awful font, ADOPTION DAY - GIVE A LOVING HOME TO AN ANIMAL IN NEED!
Once the sign was steadily planted in the ground, one of the men turned to wave at him gleefully and point to the sign, beaming at him, absurdly plush lips stretched in a wide grin and revealing charmingly crooked teeth. The man was all broad shoulders and toned muscles, and peeking out from the thin fabric of the white t-shirt Arthur could see a tantalizing glimpse of ink. Still beaming, the ridiculously gorgeous man pointed helpfully and hopefully to the sign.
Fuck my life, Arthur thought stupidly, and made himself get out of the car, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans.
"I'll handle this, Yusuf," Ridiculously Handsome said, as he strode over to Arthur. He was offering his hand for shaking, and of fucking course he had the most beautiful British accent and of fucking course he had huge hands. "Hello, love, I'm Eames, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Arthur shook his hand, and Christ, he had warm, rough, perfect hands, and smiled shyly. "I'm Arthur. It's nice to meet you, too. I'm just here for the pet shop," he began, with a gesture at the pet shop's front door. "Wanted to buy some fish."
Eames smiled a little wider. "Come and look at the puppies, anyway, they could use a cuddle." He tugged Arthur's hand lightly and nodded to where there was a low fence being set up to cage in the puppies. It took a shamefully short time for Arthur to relent to being led over by this man, and he desperately hoped that it wasn't immediately obvious that he would follow him into a pit of coals if Eames kept looking at him with that bright smile.
The puppies had already been released into the grassy area enveloped by the portable metal gates, and Eames hopped right over it easily and sat right down on the dewy grass, apparently unconcerned about grass stains. One of the puppies immediately whimpered and clambered its way into Eames' lap while Eames laughed delightedly and scritched its chest. Arthur found himself holding his breath at the sight of it, Eames' big hands gentle and rough over the puppy's fur at the same time, and he didn't realize until the last moment that Eames was speaking to him. "I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "What was that?"
Eames grinned. "Come right in, Arthur, they're lovely and sweet, none of our special needs puppies for adoption day, darling."
Arthur looked at the dogs in consternation, vaguely aware there was some sort of dog etiquette he should be following, but he had never envisioned himself having a dog and so he had no idea what he should do. Fuck. "I haven't been around dogs much, is there anything I should do or not be doing?" he asked, embarrassed at his lack of knowledge on this subject.
But Eames just smiled at him warmly. "That's all right, Arthur, I'll walk you through it," he said easily. "Why don't you step over the gate and then just squat down, and one of them will be curious enough to come and check you out." Eames was still smiling, still scruffling the fur on the chest of the dog in his lap.
Arthur looked over at the dogs, walking around and sniffing each other and sniffing the ground, and he took a deep breath and stepped over the gate, dropping into a squat. Immediately, several dogs came over to sniff him and huff greetings at him, and Arthur found himself giving Eames a stricken look.
The gorgeous bastard laughed. "Have you never had a dog, darling?" His voice was warm and understanding but Arthur's back was up a little. "Don't worry, we only brought the sweet-natured ones here today. Why don't you hold out your hands to them and let them sniff your palms, that's how you introduce yourself."
Arthur let out a little huff and nodded and why was he doing this at all, he was here for fish, or a rodent, not a puppy, for god's sake. But he looked again at Eames and his lush mouth and broad shoulders and took a deep breath, and he held out his hands.
The puppies jumped back a little and barked but Arthur made himself just hold his hands out steadily, palms up, and in a few moments they made their way over to him again, crowding in to sniff his palms and there was - so much licking. Just all the licking in the world, and Arthur made a shocked sound before he could stop himself. "Fuck," he said under his breath, laughing, and he let himself drop fully onto the grass, sitting criss-cross. One of the puppies immediately tried to crawl into his lap, little legs stretching as it pulled itself up. Arthur stared down it, blinking. "Wow." The puppy regarded him with big brown eyes and frank curiosity, and Arthur stroked his hand over its soft fur.
"There you go, just like that, just pet his body for now and let him get to know you a bit before you pet his head." Eames said, and Arthur jumped a little because Eames had moved closer to him while Arthur was dealing with the puppies, his shoulder almost brushing against Arthur's. "See, not so difficult, just soft and fuzzy and warm."
Eames was smiling, showing crooked teeth again, and Arthur flushed a little and nodded and reached down to pet the tiny puppy, who was rearranging himself on Arthur's lap, letting out little annoyed huffs until it found a comfortable position for itself, body on Arthur's ankles, face pressing in behind one knee, sniffing and licking before he settled in. Arthur let out a little laugh. "He is pretty adorable, and smaller than I would have thought, aren't most dogs big?"
"No, it all depends on breed," Eames replied, waving his hand in the air as if dismissing Arthur's question. "This one will get bigger, though, and fast, it's a boxer." Two puppies had crawled into Eames' lap and he was petting both of them absently, his attention on Arthur, grey eyes soft and focused. "Do you have a good sized yard? Do you like to go for long walks, or even better, runs? Boxers are pretty active."
Arthur nods. "I go for a run every day, actually. I could add another, if you think he'd need it?" The puppy was falling asleep under his hand, letting out little puffs of air like tiny growls and Arthur felt his heart skip a beat, and he smiled, surprised at himself when he realized he was half in love already.
"He might," Eames' voice was soft and warm, and when Arthur looked at him again he was smiling almost tenderly - at Arthur. "You should get a book about boxers, but would you like to take him home today, love?"
Arthur looked down the sleeping puppy and lifted him up to his chest with one arm, cradling him. Trustingly, adorably, the puppy didn't so much as snuffle, just cuddled right up to where it could probably feel Arthur's heart beating. "I really would," he said, and he could hear how surprised and awed his own voice sounded.
Eames was beaming at him, though. "That's excellent." He gently extricated the puppies from his lap and stood up, and offered Arthur a hand up, too, which Arthur took. There weren't sparks or anything dumb like that, but Eames' hand was warm and gentle, the skin just this side of rough, and his hand felt good in Arthur's. "Let's get you inside and get all the supplies you need, I'll help you figure out what's what," he said, helping Arthur out of the nest of puppies, still carrying his own new little puppy.
They headed inside, and Arthur couldn't quite help but notice Eames' ass under his tight jeans, high and round and firm, and he swallowed hard and cuddled the puppy a little more tightly. "Does he have a name?" he asked Eames.
"That one's called Mr. Bojangles, but you can name him whatever you like, of course. He won't know the difference," Eames chuckled.
Arthur considered this, as it was an infinitely better idea than considering Eames' ass any more than he already had. "It's a good name, but I'm not sure it's my style... but is it really right? To change his name?" It felt a bit... wrong, somehow, since Mr. Bojangles had been living with his name for a while.
Eames paused to look at him, a soft, affectionate smile on his face, and it made Arthur stop in his tracks and blush. "He really won't mind in the least, Arthur, he's a dog, but it's... it's lovely that it matters to you."
Arthur blushed a little deeper. "I... I think I prefer Henry, actually," he said shyly.
"Henry?" Eames laughed like this was the funniest joke he'd ever heard. "You prefer Henry," he grinned at Arthur, and Arthur hoped he wasn't imagining it when he thought Eames looked even more fond. "Henry's a good name for a dog," Eames finally said. "Come on, let's make him a tag for his collar." Eames led Arthur over to a little machine and snickered a little to himself as he typed in Henry's new name.
Arthur looked at Eames askance, and he couldn't help but wonder what was so hilarious about him naming his dog Henry.
"Here you are," Eames held up the little bone-shaped collar tag with a another inexplicable chortle. "Henry the dog, that's you, mate!" He gently stroked the sleeping Henry's short, soft fur and cooed at him.
Henry just went on sleeping, but Arthur's heart melted. He cleared his throat. "So... toys as well, I'd guess?"
"Definitely toys, darling, and you'll want a crate for him as well. Food, of course." Eames led Arthur over to the racks (and racks, and racks) of available toys. “Puppies love to chew so you’ll want plenty of things for him to chew on, or else you’ll find him shredding your footwear,” Eames chuckled and offered Henry a toy, squeezing it so it made an obnoxious squeaking sound.
It woke Henry up and he howled and cuddled closer to Arthur, whimpering. “Ah, I’m guessing he’s not into the squeaking?” Arthur laughed.
Eames grinned back at him. “I guess he’s not,” he said with a chuckle. “What about a little tug rope, sweet puppy?” he asked, actually speaking to Henry and wiggling a red rope toy, and Henry reached out a stubby little leg for it. Eames grinned and put the toy in the basket he was carrying. “Here,” Eames said, “Lift him up and let him get a look at what’s on offer.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows and gave Eames a skeptical look. “The puppy.”
Eames laughed. “Yes, you saw, he’ll reach for what looks fun. Go on,” Eames urged, when Arthur kept hesitating.
So, dubiously, because this felt ridiculous and he wasn’t sure Eames wasn’t making fun of him, he stepped closer and lifted Henry up to look at the toys. Henry did reach out to paw at a couple of them but Arthur felt like he was just trying to keep his balance, and one look back at Eames confirmed it. Eames was looking gleeful, hiding a chuckle behind his hand, and he laughed out loud when Arthur shoved at his shoulder. “You asshole!” Arthur laughed.
“I’m sorry, darling, but in my defense you were absolutely adorable,” Eames said, still snickering.
“You don’t sound the least bit sorry,” Arthur grumbled, snuggling Henry close, but he could feel a little grin on his face creeping up into the dimples that made him look about 13 years old. He felt about 13 years old around Eames, all awkwardness and first crushes, especially vulnerable because he was already in love with Henry.
Eames just snickered again and gave Arthur a look he couldn’t interpret. “All right, let’s get a few toys for chewing and chasing,” he said, selecting a few, and Arthur chose a few more as well, figuring he might as well spoil Henry terribly, picking out a few of the soft plush toys, too, for Henry to cuddle. Eames grinned at him approvingly and clapped a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get Henry some food and dishes to eat from, and the rest of his supplies.” Eames took Arthur through the rest of the shop, helping him choose the right puppy food, a few books on puppy care, and then he led Arthur over to the aisle with all the crates. “You want a big one, but one that comes with a divider, too. That way you won’t have to replace it when he outgrows it,” Eames said, looking through the ones on offer.
“It’s a problem if the crate is too big?” Arthur asked, surprised. He got the concept of the crate, a delineated space for Henry so he always knew he was safe inside it, but surely bigger must be better?
“It can be, a little thing like Henry, he might relieve himself in one corner and sleep comfortably in the other. They don’t want to sleep in their scat so if the area’s small enough it’ll help prevent it.” Eames pulled a box off the shelf, quite a large one. “This is perfect,” he said, smiling at Arthur. “Now you just need to get padding and that sort of thing, and a blanket to put over the crate.”
“Is that stuff here?” Arthur asked, looking around.
“Some of it, like a nice puppy bed to line the bottom, a few pillows.” Eames took him over to show him what they had and Arthur selected a nice furry liner and a pillow with bones printed all over it. Eames grinned and held up a pillow that said, ‘If you want the best seat in the house, you’ll have to move the dog,” and Arthur giggled and took it from him gamely.
They headed up to the cashier to buy everything, and then Eames helped carry everything back to Arthur's car, the supplies and toys and even the new crate while Arthur was still cuddling Henry, and helped Arthur put Henry into his carrier and the carrier into the car. "Listen, darling," Eames said, smiling at him warmly before Arthur could get in the car. "I do know you didn't come here looking for a puppy, so..." He blushed a little, inexplicably, and handed a card from the pet shop to Arthur. "I wrote my mobile number on the back, feel free to call me if the training gives you any trouble, right?"
Arthur took the card and nodded. "I like him, though, I’m glad you talked me into getting him," he said, feeling tremendously awkward, and he smiled shyly at Eames, who beamed back at him. "I think Henry's perfect for me."
Eames' cheeks reddened and Arthur blinked at him. "Hopefully," was all Eames said, though, and he closed Arthur's car door after him. "Don't hesitate to call me for any reason, all right, Arthur?" he said.
"I'll call you, yes, thank you, Eames," he said, stopping himself before he could babble incoherently, and he pulled out and started driving home with a little wave, which Eames returned, still smiling.
*****
Getting the puppy into the house was a bit of a trial, but he managed it by putting Henry in the bathroom for just a few minutes while he brought everything inside, and then he brought Henry up to his bedroom while he set up Henry’s crate there, wanting him nearby at night. He let Henry have the run of his bedroom while he figured out how to set the thing up, which took quite a bit longer than he expected, but at the end of it he actually felt rather accomplished. He draped one of the blankets over the top of the crate and lined the inside with the soft fleece dog bed, and the pillow and blankets, and a couple of the plush toys.
Arthur pushed the crate back against the wall and then he rubbed his arm across his forehead and stood up, turning around to look for Henry. “Henry?” he called, humming a little when he couldn’t see him. He could hear crinkling from in the bathroom, though, and he remembered that his shoes were in their boxes, lined up in the closet, and he yelped and ran in to find Henry digging into one of the shoeboxes. “Henry, no, no!” he said, dropping to his knees and gently pulling the puppy away. One of Arthur’s Tom Fords came with him and Arthur made a despairing noise before he could stop himself, reaching out to gently pry Henry’s mouth open.
Henry growled softly and shook Arthur off, and bit down harder on the shoe. “Henry, please,” he said desperately, reaching out again, and this time Henry let Arthur open his mouth, dropping the shoe to the floor. Arthur snatched it up immediately and let out a sharp breath when it was miraculously unscratched, just a bit flattened. “Thank god,” he murmured to himself, putting the shoe on top of the box, and then he scooped Henry into his arms. “I need to get you all trained up, Henry,” he said softly, snuggling the whimpering puppy so he’d know he wasn’t in trouble. “Until then I guess I’ll have to keep the closet door closed,” he said, putting words to action. “Come on now, I put your crate together, little guy.”
He carried Henry out to have a look, and Henry barked and wriggled to be put down, immediately running into his crate, doing little hops and arranging things to his liking, and Arthur’s heart melted again. He sat criss-cross in front of the crate, watched Henry and listening to his huffing breaths, his tiny little puppyish barks of happy joy, his sniffles as he got to know the confines of his, well, his new bed. “You’re such a very sweet puppy, Henry,” Arthur said, enchanted by him.
Henry barked in agreement and panted, pink tongue hanging out and his tail wagging, and Arthur laughed helplessly and took out his phone to take a photo. He found Eames’ card in his pocket and texted him the photo of Henry, happy in front of his new crate. Home and safe, he texted, and then a second one on the heels of the first, Already attacking my shoes, but all of us made it out alive.
He pocketed his phone, not really expecting a reply, and smiled at Henry. “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you? I should get your water bowl set up and a feeding place, huh?” Arthur scooped Henry up, totally unable to help himself though he knew Henry was going to get too large to carry around soon enough, and stood up to carry him to the kitchen.
His phone chimed with a text and Arthur nearly jumped; he almost never got any messages. Ariadne never bothered, she liked to talk on the phone, and Cobb sent incredibly long-winded emails even if he just wanted to say yes, Mal and I can get a babysitter to look after the kids if you want to go get a beer.
Arthur set Henry down on the tile floor and Henry immediately put his nose to the ground, following whatever scent was intriguing him most on a tour around the rest of Arthur’s small house, and Arthur watched him for a moment, smiling, before pulling out his phone.
Eames had replied: That’s brilliant, darling… he looks so happy there in your home! It must be made for Henrys ;).
And he texted again as Arthur was reading the first: Let me know if you need any help with his training, I’m a certified dog trainer.
Arthur made a rueful sound and laughed a bit. I would absolutely love some help with his training, what do you charge?
The little dots showed up immediately to show that Eames was replying, but then they just stayed there, wiggling, for much too long, and Arthur tucked his phone away so he could put out some water and some puppy food for Henry, mixing up the dry food in the wet food’s gravy, following the directions for amount on the sides of the food. “Henry, time for lunch!” he called, and laughed when he saw Henry skittering into the kitchen, claws clicking on the tile. “Where’ve you been, cutie pie?” he asked, setting the food on the floor.
Arthur’s phone chimed again, and the reply was much shorter than he expected. All I’ll charge is the pleasure of your company, and Henry’s, of course.
That made Arthur blink and raise his eyebrows. Don’t do that, your services are very valuable!
There was another pause, with the three wiggling dots, and Arthur plopped down on his sofa, staring at his phone and wondering if he’d said something wrong or offensive, and he was just about to start writing an apology when Eames’ text arrived. Fair enough, petal. Why don’t we work out a fair price at the first training session? Tomorrow night?
Arthur relaxed a little, especially since Eames was still using those silly pet names. That sounds great, he replied, and sent a following text with his address. Five o’clock and I’ll order something in for dinner?
He sent the text without thinking and then worried if that was too much, if it would make it seem like he thought this was a date or something, and then he got Eames’ reply and was completely baffled.
Perfect, Arthur. It’s a date.
*****
As it turned out, what Henry had been busy doing was marking his territory in the new crate, and Arthur had had to do an emergency load of laundry with all Henry’s things because he had peed all over them. Arthur was grateful that he hadn’t done it all over the carpeting.
At least he was, until his foot landed in something soft, wet, and mud-like on the way into his bathroom. “Oh, my god!” he yelled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he grumbled, hopping on one foot into the bathroom to rinse off his foot and of course because sometimes the universe hated him, he had managed to step on it near his toes, and once he realized that, he’d just crawled into the shower and scrubbed his foot over and over again.
Yeah, he definitely needed to start training Henry soon.
*****
Eventually, Arthur settled on bringing Henry out to his backyard to let him sniff around and explore - he already knew there weren’t any poisonous plants because Dom and Mal sometimes brought Phillipa and James over to play while the adults had lunch, and James was still at the age where he was shoving everything into his mouth to explore it. So he set Henry free to explore the grass and sat on his back porch, reading and making notes and highlighting things occasionally. Besides the book he’d bought that Eames said was good for learning about boxers, and the other one that was good for learning about training dogs, Arthur had also taken a Moleskine from his stash specifically to use for Henry’s training, and another to write down pertinent information about Henry’s life.
He looked up often to make sure he could see Henry, who was bounding around joyfully and barking at birds and butterflies, tongue lolling and little bottom wriggling, he was wagging his stubby little tail so hard. Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the picture he made, tiny and adorable, still stumbling over his own slender little matchstick legs.
Arthur made careful notes about his size and made a plan for his training, a preliminary one he could go over with Eames the next evening, and made another shopping list - including carpet cleaner! - all the while keeping an eye on his gamboling Henry. Eventually Henry tired himself out and came over, panting, to lay down at Arthur’s feet and stare up at him. Arthur grinned and lifted the tiny, sweet little puppy into his lap for cuddles, petting him and melting at the adoring expression in Henry’s eyes. He laughed at himself a little. “You know, I’ve never considered myself very sentimental, Henry,” he said with a chuckle. “But I seem to have fallen in love at first sight.”
Henry blinked at him, tongue still lolling out, and tilted his head to one side curiously. He made a little whimpering sound and started climbing up Arthur’s chest until he could lick Arthur’s face, making Arthur laugh delightedly, scritching all over Henry’s soft short fur. “You’re lovely,” he praised, and Henry woofed softly and licked Arthur’s neck and snuggled closer, and Arthur hugged him a little more tightly.
*****
By the next evening, Arthur had managed to train Henry that is was preferable for him to poop outside, although Arthur had to catch him right when he first started to make. But so far he’d managed to avoid another accident on the carpeting, and he felt quite triumphant about that.
He was restless in the time leading up to when Eames was supposed to arrive; he felt like he ought to be preparing somehow, butterflies in his stomach, but he told himself very firmly that this was NOT a date, and his weekend outfit of jeans and a flannel shirt was just fine, especially for training Henry, which he knew from his research was going to involve a lot of moving around and sitting on the floor or the ground.
Still, he couldn’t help but worry a little, still very confused about Eames’ expectations for the night, and he was pacing back and forth from his front door when the doorbell rang.
He took a very deep breath and swallowed hard, and opened the door, smiling shyly. “Eames, come on in,” he said, and swallowed hard again at the huge grin on Eames’ face.
“Hi, Arthur,” he greeted, pulling Arthur into a hug that made Arthur let out a surprised squeak, and before he could really relax into it, Eames was pulling away.
Arthur cursed himself for being too surprised to hug back, and he smiled shyly. “I thought we could have dinner first, but I wasn’t sure what you might want,” he said, a little sheepishly.
Eames was looking around curiously, still smiling. “I like your house, it’s very you, Arthur, it’s close and warm.” He turned that beaming smile on Arthur and Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh, darling, we can have whatever you like for dinner, but will you show me the rest of your place?”
Arthur grinned. “Um, yes, of course, if you’d like to see it, I don’t mind. Should we order dinner first and I can show you around while we wait for it? I was thinking maybe pizza?” he suggested, feeling stunningly awkward.
Eames hardly seemed to notice Arthur was nervous, though, which Arthur was exceedingly grateful for. “Pizza sounds great, yeah, what do you like on yours?”
Arthur suddenly realized they were both standing in the entryway, still, and he started walking toward his small kitchen to find the pizza menus. “Ah… I suppose it’s a little strange,” he said sheepishly, “But I actually really like artichokes and canadian bacon.”
“Really?” Eames grinned at him. “Actually that sounds… really good. Maybe with a little spinach?”
Arthur felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’d like that, sort of like spinach and artichoke dip in pizza form.” He dug into his drawer of takeout menus, finding the pizza place he liked, and feeling Eames’ warmth from where he was standing right beside Arthur.
“With canadian bacon for extra salt,” Eames teased, and Arthur giggled. “What else do they have, anything for dessert?” Eames leaned over the menu and a little bit across Arthur, as Arthur spread it out over the counter. “Ooooh, they have cannoli!”
Arthur grins a little wider. “They do and it’s delicious, and tiramisu, too, if you like.”
Eames lights up. “Fuck yes,” he laughs delightedly. “You’re spoiling me terribly, Arthur,” he said with a shy smile, his gaze hot and heavy as he looked Arthur over.
“No, I want it all, too,” he said with a shy grin, licking his lips and feeling himself blush under Eames’ gaze, and he orders their dinner in order to have something to do with his hands so he doesn’t flail like 17 year old girl. “All right,” he said after hanging up, turning back to smile at Eames. “A tour of the place, right? This is the kitchen, obviously,” he said dryly. “This way is my living room. I’ve got Henry’s crate in my bedroom, you can look at how I have it set up?”
Eames nodded, smiling. “I will, but I bet you have it set up perfectly, darling, you’re that sort of person, neat and capable.” His hand slid into Arthur’s and Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard, and then made a soft noise when Eames lifted his hand to press a kiss to the back.
Arthur licked his lips again and ducked his head, then smiled at Eames. “Come on, my bedroom’s this way,” he said.
Eames made a sort of choking sound in the back of his throat and gave Arthur a tight smile. “I’m looking forward to it, petal,” he said, making Arthur blush again. “All right?” he asked, as they headed for Arthur’s room.
“Oh, yeah, I just… I don’t think anyone’s ever called me by a pet name before,” he said sheepishly. “It’s nice.”
Eames gave him a very warm look, smiling at little, and Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, the small, sincere little affectionate smile warming him even more than Eames’ joyful, beaming grin, for some reason. “Um,” he said eloquently. “I have Henry’s bed set up right here.” He gestured to the crate and Eames knelt in front of it, grinning.
Henry was curled up inside the open crate on his fluffy bed, blinking up at them sleepily, and then he barked with happy joy at seeing Eames and jumped into his lap, little tail wagging furiously. Eames laughed delightedly and snuggled Henry close. “Hello, Henry, such a good boy, aren’t you?” Eames scritched all over Henry’s soft fur, cooing at him, and Arthur’s heart melted.
He slid down to sit beside them, legs crossed, and reached out to stroke Henry’s ears. “I really do love him already, so much. It’s shocking how fast you fall for a puppy, isn’t it?” he said, looking up at Eames with a shy smile.
“It really is, but they just bring it out of almost everyone, don’t they?” He scruffled Henry’s fur a bit more and then let him go, and Henry found his plush pig to play with, tossing it about and catching it, bringing it over for Arthur to throw it for him, panting, his pink tongue hanging out, a big puppy grin on his face. “And Arthur, he’s clearly in love with you, too,” Eames laughed. Look how eager he is to be with you, hm?”
“Yeah… he’s amazing so far, really, but he is definitely not housetrained,” Arthur laughed. “I’m hoping we can start with that? I’ve had to clean more accidents in the last day than I can count on my fingers.”
Eames laughed. “We can definitely start working on that, poor Arthur!” He grinned. “Dinner first and then we’ll have our first lesson.”
Arthur nodded and licked his lips. “Dinner first, and I’m going to feed Henry his dinner, too.” He stood up and led them back to the kitchen, patting his thigh for Henry to follow them.
Eames leaned over the counter, chin in his hand, watching Arthur put together a bowl of puppy food for Henry with a little smile. Arthur felt himself blushing more and more the longer Eames kept watching him. “What?” he said after a bit, stiff and uncertain - was he feeding Henry wrong, somehow?
“Nothing, darling, just admiring the view. I’ve always loved a man who could take care of a dog properly.” Eames was still watching him, smiling.
Somehow that just made Arthur blush even harder and he turned to bend over to put the dog bowl down. He stayed bent over to stroke Henry’s head, letting out a little chuckle at Henry’s possessive growl over the food, as if Henry thought Arthur might take it away.
“Besides, this way, I can appreciate the view of your lovely arse, Arthur,” Eames said from behind him, his voice teasing.
Arthur huffed, standing up, and turned to look at Eames, wide-eyed. “Were you just staring at my ass?”
Eames was grinning, utterly shameless. “Of course, darling, you have a very delectable bottom.”
A noise spilled out of Arthur’s mouth that he couldn’t remember ever having made before, a shocked little moue, and he licked his lips. “Eames, are… are we actually on a date?”
“Are…” Eames licked his lips and it was his turn to blush, and Arthur’s stomach dropped to his feet. He’d gotten it all wrong, somehow, and he needed to get Eames out of his house, now. He’d put Henry in classes for deportment or something-- “I’m sorry I wasn’t as clear as I thought, Arthur,” Eames said, reaching out to take Arthur’s hand, and Arthur let him, because at least Eames was going to let him down gently. “I did say it was a date, and I didn’t mean by that ‘appointment’. You’re bloody gorgeous and I couldn’t figure out a better way to ask you out,” he laughed, looking sheepish.
Arthur blinked. “You mean…” He stepped closer, hope flaring in his heart. “You’re attracted to me and you want to date me,” he grinned, moving so he could put his arms around Eames’ muscled chest. Eames immediately hugged him back, holding him closely, and Arthur let out a little sigh. Eames was so, so warm against his chest, big and strong and perfect.
“I want to date you and get to know you,” Eames confirmed, and then, with that ridiculously perfect teasing smile, “And snog you a lot, and hopefully get in your trousers.”
Arthur let out a little huffing breath, but he knew he was dimpling when he leaned back to look at Eames. “That is a terrible line, you’re not getting in my trousers with a line like that.”
Eames just smirked back at him and kissed one of his dimples. “I have a whole lot of terrible lines much worse than that one, darling. I’ll use all of them.” He rubbed his nose against Arthur’s for a moment, somehow a more intimate gesture than anything they’d done so far, and then gently pressed his lush mouth to Arthur’s.
Arthur made another little embarrassing sound but he hardly noticed, tasting Eames, feeling his soft mouth, and he pressed closer when Eames tried to end the kiss, nuzzling for more. It had been so long since he’d done anything like this and he couldn’t help getting half-hard in his pants, just from snogging Eames. At least he had the excuse that Eames was a fucking amazing kisser, living up to the promise of his full mouth, tongue exploring Arthur’s mouth without invading it.
“Arthur,” Eames said, voice rumbling where their chests were pressed together, “God, Arthur, this is so good.”
Arthur shivered despite himself and pressed closer, and then the doorbell rang and Arthur groaned, dropping his head to press his face to Eames’ shoulder and just breathe.
Eames’ hand was so large as he rubbed Arthur’s back, and Arthur sighed softly. “I better get that,” he said, leaning up to press another kiss to Eames’ mouth. “I’ll be right back.” He stole one more kiss and then headed for the front door, tipping generously with cash and bringing the pizza back to the kitchen, pretending he wasn’t half-hard in his trousers. He set the pizza down on the counter, biting his lip, and gave Eames a shy look through his lashes. “You know… if you’re up for it, I think I’d like to skip dinner and just go to bed.” He cleared his throat. “With you.”
Eames’ grin was slow and wickedly predatory, bringing to Arthur’s mind an image of a prowling wolf, teeth bared with delight as it approached its prey, and Arthur swallowed hard. “Oh, I think we’ll bring dinner to bed with us, actually. We can eat it to keep our stamina up,” Eames said, his voice as much a promise as his words, and it made Arthur shiver deliciously.
“Yes,” he agreed immediately. “There’s water in the fridge, will you get it?”
Eames leaned over the pizza to kiss him again, and he stroked Arthur’s cheek, looking him in the eye. “I am going to want more than tonight, Arthur,” he said softly.
Arthur’s breath hitched and he felt himself beaming again. “I will, too,” he replied, and kissed Eames one more time.
Eames grins. “I should let you know one more thing, then, petal,” he said against Arthur’s mouth, between kisses.
Arthur was breathless and very hard and enjoying Eames pressed against him, big and warm. “What’s that?”
“My first name is Henry.”