Arthur and Eames (Nov 23)
Nov. 23rd, 2015 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Eames comes up with his own entertainment for his birthday this year.
Eames booked them a table at an upscale restaurant in the city, using the excuse to get dressed up, and to admire Arthur in his finest apparel. "I always regret taking you to public venues when you look like this," Eames admitted before they left home.
He was patient and didn't molest Arthur during the meal despite this. While they waited for dessert to arrive Eames' manner could be blamed on the fact that he was fighting to keep his hands above the table, but there was something off. He glanced, sitting straighter as he saw the waiter approach from over Arthur's shoulder. He set dessert down first and then lifted the napkin covering two champagne flutes. When Arthur's glass was placed down, there was a very distinct shape at the bottom of the champagne, sparkling up at him.
The waiter immediately backed up, giving them space.
The whole meal, Arthur had been...not suspicious, but waiting for something. Eames had been on very good behavior. That usually meant something was up. The champagne arriving wasn't too much of a tip off, but the expression on Eames' face as the glasses were set down was.
Arthur took one glance down to confirm that there was something else in his glass before fixing Eames with the flattest look he could manage. "Are you kidding me."
The corner of Eames' lips twitched. "My dearest Arthur," he said, reaching across the table to take his hand. He was still guaging whether getting down on one knee would be too much public spectacle for Arthur to tolerate. "I have a very serious question to ask of you."
"Don't you fucking dare," Arthur said, a little too evenly.
This time Eames couldn't suppress the grin. "Light of my life," he continued, regardless of inspiring Arthur's wrath.
"I will actually kill you."
Eames started laughing. He lifted Arthur's hand and kissed the back of it. "Would you tolerate me long enough to make it home?" He asked.
One of Arthur's eyebrows twitched. "You're on thin ice."
"Thank goodness I called off the cellist, then."
"For fuck's sake," he sighed, though there was a hint of something amused in the corner of his mouth. "What is this even about?"
"For the look on your face alone, this was entirely worth it. I love watching you recoil from grand romantic gestures," Eames said with a smile. "Do keep the ring, though? When the wrong people are circling you at gatherings I thought it would be a nice touch to subtly ask them to fuck off."
"I can get people to fuck off without jewelry," Arthur said with a snort, but did at least reach for the glass to fish the ring out.
"I like to help." Eames nudged his foot alongside Arthur's ankle under the table.
Arthur just gave him a look. "You like to provoke reactions."
"It's almost as if you know me well," Eames said with a grin.
"Or something," he said dryly. "Was there anything else or have I amused you sufficiently?"
"Let's go home," Eames said. "I'm sure you can amuse me more."
Arthur rolled his eyes, but wiped the ring off on his napkin before slipping it onto his finger.
Eames smiled at the sight. He considered before saying, "I do love you." And with that he got up, and went to settle the bill.
"You had better," Arthur called after him, then turned to calmly meet the eyes of their waiter, who was giving him some very strange looks.
There was a bounce in Eames step when he collected Arthur. He risked stealing a quick kiss, smiling like a fool as he leaned back.
Arthur lifted an eyebrow as he climbed to his feet. "You're in a suspiciously good mood."
"You're cute when you're suspicious," Eames said unhelpfully. "Come on. Home."
"So pretty much all the time, then," Arthur said dryly, but allowed himself to be lead out of the restaurant.
"Mm. Yes." Eames slipped his hand into Arthur's.
It earned him a sideways look, but Arthur didn't pull away. "Happy birthday, by the way."
Eames smiled. "Thank you darling." He'd chosen to stand on the side Arthur had slid the ring so he could feel the metal when he threaded their hands together.
"You're welcome," he said, softer, and squeezed his hand gently.
Eames leaned closer as they walked, soaking in Arthur's company like blossom seeking sun. Or something else smitten and ridiculous. Whatever, it was a special occasion, he could be as soppy as he wanted.
Eames booked them a table at an upscale restaurant in the city, using the excuse to get dressed up, and to admire Arthur in his finest apparel. "I always regret taking you to public venues when you look like this," Eames admitted before they left home.
He was patient and didn't molest Arthur during the meal despite this. While they waited for dessert to arrive Eames' manner could be blamed on the fact that he was fighting to keep his hands above the table, but there was something off. He glanced, sitting straighter as he saw the waiter approach from over Arthur's shoulder. He set dessert down first and then lifted the napkin covering two champagne flutes. When Arthur's glass was placed down, there was a very distinct shape at the bottom of the champagne, sparkling up at him.
The waiter immediately backed up, giving them space.
The whole meal, Arthur had been...not suspicious, but waiting for something. Eames had been on very good behavior. That usually meant something was up. The champagne arriving wasn't too much of a tip off, but the expression on Eames' face as the glasses were set down was.
Arthur took one glance down to confirm that there was something else in his glass before fixing Eames with the flattest look he could manage. "Are you kidding me."
The corner of Eames' lips twitched. "My dearest Arthur," he said, reaching across the table to take his hand. He was still guaging whether getting down on one knee would be too much public spectacle for Arthur to tolerate. "I have a very serious question to ask of you."
"Don't you fucking dare," Arthur said, a little too evenly.
This time Eames couldn't suppress the grin. "Light of my life," he continued, regardless of inspiring Arthur's wrath.
"I will actually kill you."
Eames started laughing. He lifted Arthur's hand and kissed the back of it. "Would you tolerate me long enough to make it home?" He asked.
One of Arthur's eyebrows twitched. "You're on thin ice."
"Thank goodness I called off the cellist, then."
"For fuck's sake," he sighed, though there was a hint of something amused in the corner of his mouth. "What is this even about?"
"For the look on your face alone, this was entirely worth it. I love watching you recoil from grand romantic gestures," Eames said with a smile. "Do keep the ring, though? When the wrong people are circling you at gatherings I thought it would be a nice touch to subtly ask them to fuck off."
"I can get people to fuck off without jewelry," Arthur said with a snort, but did at least reach for the glass to fish the ring out.
"I like to help." Eames nudged his foot alongside Arthur's ankle under the table.
Arthur just gave him a look. "You like to provoke reactions."
"It's almost as if you know me well," Eames said with a grin.
"Or something," he said dryly. "Was there anything else or have I amused you sufficiently?"
"Let's go home," Eames said. "I'm sure you can amuse me more."
Arthur rolled his eyes, but wiped the ring off on his napkin before slipping it onto his finger.
Eames smiled at the sight. He considered before saying, "I do love you." And with that he got up, and went to settle the bill.
"You had better," Arthur called after him, then turned to calmly meet the eyes of their waiter, who was giving him some very strange looks.
There was a bounce in Eames step when he collected Arthur. He risked stealing a quick kiss, smiling like a fool as he leaned back.
Arthur lifted an eyebrow as he climbed to his feet. "You're in a suspiciously good mood."
"You're cute when you're suspicious," Eames said unhelpfully. "Come on. Home."
"So pretty much all the time, then," Arthur said dryly, but allowed himself to be lead out of the restaurant.
"Mm. Yes." Eames slipped his hand into Arthur's.
It earned him a sideways look, but Arthur didn't pull away. "Happy birthday, by the way."
Eames smiled. "Thank you darling." He'd chosen to stand on the side Arthur had slid the ring so he could feel the metal when he threaded their hands together.
"You're welcome," he said, softer, and squeezed his hand gently.
Eames leaned closer as they walked, soaking in Arthur's company like blossom seeking sun. Or something else smitten and ridiculous. Whatever, it was a special occasion, he could be as soppy as he wanted.