“My ass looks fantastic,” Arthur said, neck twisted to stare at the aforementioned ‘fantastic ass’ in the mirror.
“Yes, dear. Stop moving,” Eames replied from his kneeling position at Arthur’s side. “Damn it, the seam is all warped. I’m going to have to find a hardware store.”
“I told you we needed to buy a bigger suitcase.”
“As always, I shall remember to defer to your judgment,” Eames smirked, pinching Arthur’s thigh. Arthur retaliated by pushing him hard on the shoulder. Laughing, Eames held tightly to the bare expanse of Arthur’s leg to regain his balance.
“Oh, geez. Are you two playing your weird sex games in our workspace?” Yusuf had his hands over his eyes while Ariadne stared at them disdainfully from the doorway. “Is that gold metal underwear?”
“It is a perfect screen accurate recreation of Princess Leia’s costume in Return of the Jedi. Eames’ work is art, not underwear,” Arthur replied, brow furrowed, hands on his hips. Eames was forced to kiss his thigh. An adamant and haughty Arthur always demanded spontaneous displays of affection.
“It looks like a sex thing,” Yusuf said, stumbling across the warehouse to his workstation, eyes firmly fixed on the wall.
“It’s for a convention tomorrow, “Arthur replied.
“With plenty of tastefully artistic sex before and after,” Eames added, grinning wider as Arthur flicked his earlobe. “What? They’re acting like the idea of us having sex is horrifying. I’m offended.”
“If Arthur’s Leia, does that mean you dress as Han?” Ariadne asked, ignoring Eames’ comment. She’d already had the misfortune of hearing his dreamy three-act retelling of the first time Arthur initiated hand-holding and had promised herself to never ever encourage any talk about their sex life.
“Lando, love,” Eames replied, slowly rising up and brushing off his knees. “That man knew how to pull together an ensemble. Which reminds me,” he turned to Arthur, “I forgot to check if the hotel room had—“
“—An iron? Yeah, I checked. I’ll iron your cape while you fix this seam.”
“What would I ever do without you?” Eames smirked. He stepped closer to run his hands across the smooth skin of Arthur’s chest.
“You’d be horribly creased.” Arthur closed the distance between them, a sly look in his eye, running his fingers over Eames’ belt buckle. “And your sex life would truly be horrifying.”
“I shudder to even think of it,” Eames breathed out in a whisper, nosing along the hair at Arthur’s temple.
“I think I’d prefer to see them have their horrifying sex instead of listening to whatever this is,” Yusuf sighed.
“I regret ever helping you two get your shit together,” Ariadne said and then caught sight of Yusuf. “But not as much our chemist’s gonna regret stealing my pen again.” She marched over and Yusuf quickly handed the pen back, proceeding to reach over and steal Cobb’s instead.
Ignoring the sounds behind him, Eames stared over Arthur’s shoulder into the mirror. “Your ass seriously is fantastic,” he murmured in wonder. His breath caught as he watched his hand stroke over the perfectly molded gold metal.
“I know,” Arthur smirked.