artfulforger | Carnival! - for No Way Back (Greece)

Arthur bit out a laugh and shook his head. "I can kick your ass if I wanted to," he said, giving him a teasing look, pinching his side in response.

He made a face at the thought of a fuchsia bear and watched Eames take the balls then throw one. Arthur couldn't help but watch the play of muscles in his arms then cleared his throat a little to watch if any of them fell. When the ball just bounced off, he made a soft sound. It was a tricky game for a reason.

"Could you now," he asked, glancing at Arthur as he balanced the next ball on his hand. "I'd like to see that," he admitted.

"No worries, Love," he said, glancing at Arthur with a wink.

The second one took down a clown.

Arthur's lips quirked up to the side. "I might not have the bulk you have, Mr. Archer but I'm not without certain skill sets." He propped his hip against the booth and watched Eames take the next shot. When the one clown came down, Arthur felt a smile curl on his lips. The boy manning the booth looked almost bored and Arthur couldn't blame him - it was probably the same thing time after time.

"Oh now you have my curious," he said with a smirk, glancing over at Eames. "Shall we have a spar sometime," he asked. "Could be interesting."

His next two shots took down the clowns he aimed for.

"I think that means a blue bear," he said with a smirk.

Arthur sent him a smirk. "I think we should," he said with a shrug of a shoulder. He probably didn't have nearly as much experience as Eames did - the man just looked like he knew how to use his body strength - but Arthur was quick on his feat and knew enough martial arts that he could hold his own against most. "It would, at the very least, be interesting."

He ducked his head just a fraction, not resisting the urge to grin as the boy straightened up and brought down the blue bear. He looked a little surprised that someone was able to knock down the clowns but Arthur didn't say anything. Instead he took the bear from him and looked at it. Already, and sadly, he had a name picked out for it.

He knew it would be good, lighthearted and not fall into the dangerous zone like some things did. Why did he know it? Because he wouldn't let it. Not that he'd pull any punches but he wouldn't be upset when Arthur landed some good ones of his own. That Arthur would be a damn good fighter was not something he doubted. Not with the sheer knowledge the man had.

Eames beamed, linking his arm with Arthur's. He leaned down to whisper to him. "Want to know how I did it," he asked softly, guiding him a bit away from the boy playing the game.

If anything, Arthur suspected the sparring would be something fun for them to do and not be taken seriously like many things become in their life. He was interested to see who would come out on top though and he wouldn't deny that for a minute.

"Course, I do," he whispered, allowing Eames to guide him away from the both and holding the bear in his other arm. If anyone could see him now from dream share, they would probably wonder if they were seeing things correctly. Arthur holding onto a stuffed bear. Arthur couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at the thought.

He kept walking, moving Arthur around another booth and out of sight of the one he'd just won on.

Pausing then, he dug his hand into his pocket and showed Arthur that, in his palm, was a few bullets.

"I slipped into into the holes in the ball to give it more weight," he admitted, looking sheepish and yet proud of himself at the same time.

Arthur's eyebrows rose when Eames pulled out a few bullets from his pockets but while he looked surprised, he couldn't find himself to be that surprised. He laughed and gave him a grin. "You cheat," he teased with hardly any heat behind it. Eames had won him a bear after all. "They're going to find the bullets and figure out how you won Baloo for me," he smirked - revealing that he had indeed thought of a name for the bear already.

“I did, and they’ll never know and…”

And he stopped. Oh but that didn’t stop him from grinning. Wide and wicked and so damn devilish.

“Baloo. Baloo the bear,” he repeated, laughing in a low, throaty way. “Tell me, Arthur, what other Disney things do you know?”

He looked down at the stuffed bear in his hands and chuckled. "He looks like a Baloo, doesn't he," he asked. Arthur looked at Eames and chuckled. "I did tell you I would name him," he smirked. But that wasn't exactly answering Eames' question and Arthur knew that.

"So funnel cake and cotton candy now?"

Here he was, on any normal given day, a bad ass point man in a tight suit, wearing jeans and a leather jacket, carrying a blue bear.

"He does. He looks a lot like him," he said, leaning down to steal a small kiss. "And I love that you named him. I admit, never stayed around for this stage. Like it a bit," he admitted, nuzzling the corner of his mouth.

"Together? Bet the cotton candy melts into goo," he said, loving this. He would never forget it. He had Arthur. Alone. Enjoying life. He could do this a lot.

"He does," Arthur agreed with a grin, tightening his arm a little around the bear. He chuckled and nuzzled the corner of Eames' mouth in return. "I never have either," he admitted. "Not normally the type to name stuffed bears. Not the type normally have stuffed bears." He paused and pressed a kiss to Eames' lips before pulling away. "Name and own guns, yes -- stuffed bears, not as much. I like it though."

Arthur couldn't help it, his nose scrunched up at the thought of the cotton candy on top of the funnel cake and still, the grin never faded from his lips. "I can feel my teeth rot at the very thought of the two eaten together." "You have cotton candy and I'll have my funnel cake. Promise to lick the powder sugar from my fingers slowly," there was a wide grin on his face now.

Oh but Eames couldn’t help himself then as they strolled along, keeping his arm around Arthur because he loved the feel of having the point man in his arms. “Wait, so you name your guns,” he asked, glancing slyly at Arthur. “Should I worry you fancy them more than me,” he asked, though the quick way he hugged the other man was to try and assure him that he was truly only joking.

Eames laughed at the look on Arthur’s face. He would have never, ever before used the word adorable to describe the other man but truly it did fit. At least now with these moments between them. “Teeth rotting is part of carnivals, Darling. You have to just learn to embrace them.” Eames gave Arthur an innocent look, purposefully misinterpreting what he’d said.

“Alright. I promise to lick the sugar slowly from your fingers.”

"Yes," he said simply, giving him a sly glance in return. "You should completely worry that I 'fancy' my guns more than you." There was a grin on his lips though to assure the other man that he too was teasing. He leaned against Eames and looked around the carnival as they walked leisurely around.

Arthur liked the sound of Eames' laugh and the crooked teeth and grin he sent to Arthur. It was charming. "I thought carnivals were all about getting sick on roller coasters and spending too much money on food, ride and game tickets," he mused.

He laughed and raised his eyebrows knowing that Eames was intentionally misinterpreting what he'd said. "Good, counting on you to do so," he smirked.

“This means watching when I put my hand under the pillow, doesn’t it?” He shuddered playfully, pulling Arthur closer to him. “I guess I can be second to your weapons but that’s going to be it,’ he said, strolling along and enjoying the intimacy between them out in public as they were.

“I thought it was showing off the sexy man in my arms,” he said with a wink and a grin. “I guess I look at it wrong. Speaking of, we should find the tunnel of love,” he teased. “With sticky fingers preferably.”

"What, are you saying you don't sleep with a gun underneath your pillow," Arthur asked, sending him a mock shocked look. He couldn't hold the look for long and ended up chuckling before leaning against him. "Weapons and you - top of the list," he mused and leaned in to press his lips against Eames' neck.

Then he laughed. "There is that as well," Arthur smirked. He slid his hand down to pinch at Eames' ass through his slacks before returning his hand to Eames' hip. "You think they have a Tunnel of Love," he teased good natured.

“Some of us don’t need extra hardware in the bedroom,” he teased, trying to sound innocent and lascivious at the same time. “But I won’t fault you for your fetishes,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss Arthur’s temple. “And if that’s what turns you on, well, we can play,” he said, loving the tiny touches, the little kisses, the fact that they were so at peace within one another’s space.

Eames didn’t jerk, but he did groan. “Now you’re just being a tease, Love. Wicked boy. And they’d better. How else am I getting kicked out for lewd behavior,” he asked.

Arthur laughed and bumped his hip against Eames'. After last night and that shower with Eames' hand around his throat, no, he could see exactly why he wouldn't need anything else. It reminded him of the words Eames told him after that house, about how he would ruin him for just anyone else. He collected himself and licked at his lips.

"No, no need to play with guns in the bedroom," he smirked. He too liked how relaxed they were in each others presence and space. Personal space wasn't exactly an issue between them and hadn't been for a long time now.

A smirk slid across his lips when Eames called him a wicked boy and attempted to give him an innocent look. "Not sure what you're talking about, Mr. Eames," he said, attempting to go for primly. Arthur grinned a moment later and looked around the carnival. "Okay - Tunnel of Love first or funnel cake and cotton candy, first?"

The bump made him laugh, reaching over and tweaking the bear's nose. He wondered how this would translate on jobs, but he knew the answer. It wouldn't. They were professionals and this would never become an issue. They could do this, separate this emotion from their business.

"Only if you're sure," he murmured with a smile. "Anything for you." And he meant that. Especially when it came to them and the bedroom.

"Funnel cake and cotton candy first," he said, honest. "So that I can taste the sugar on you," he said, not even trying to play at innocent.

Before he even realized it, Arthur's nose scrunched up as if it was his nose that Eames had tweaked and not the bear's. "What are you, five," he ased with a teasing grin but tightened his arm around the bear and held it closer with a chuckle.

His lips curled up as he looked at him. "I'm sure. Doubt weapons need to come into our sex lives," he murmured with a smile. "Have to say though, I liked last night." More like loved last night but Eames was sure to know that, he figured.

"Good idea," he agreed and spotted the closest funnel cake and cotton candy stand a few stands down. "Mm, so then we can taste the sugar on each other. I like this idea."

"Actually seven," he said, looking struck that Arthur had guessed five. "Keep it up, Mister, and I'll kick you in the shins," he teased, leaning in to Arthur and ignoring most everyone around them.

He paused at that, looking at Arthur before leaning down to whisper to him. "So tell me. Which part about it was it that you liked," he asked, remembering how Arthur's throat had felt against the palm of his hand.

"Close enough," Arthur mused with a smirk. He chuckled and stood inline at the funnel cake and cotton candy stall with him.

He tried hard to suppress the shiver that Eames' whispered words caused but didn't completely manage that feat. His tongue poked out and darted over his bottom lip as he thought about the night before. "Your hand -- your hand on my throat," he leaned up a little to whisper in return. "Taking control --" of him, of what they were doing. There was something nice about it, for that period of time to have Eames call the shots. All the whispered words about what he could do knowing that there was mutual respect between them.

"Close enough only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," he pointed out, moving into line and looking smug at his answer.

Eames watched Arthur, watching his reaction and the true reactions he gave. The way he tensed slightly, the quick glimpse of his tongue. Definitely the sort of things he was looking for.

When he admitted what it was, Eames actually did shiver. "I suspect we can make sure that happens again," he whispered. "As often as you'd like," he added, sliding his hand casually up Arthur's chest and letting his fingers ghost over the other man's throat.

"Not just horseshoes and grenades - it also counts in miniature golf," Arthur said with a bright grin. He noticed Eames' smug look though and couldn't help but chuckle.

Arthur shivered at Eames' whispered words and felt his pulse speed up when he felt Eames' fingers ghost over his throat. "Your hand, or you taking control," he whispered - glad the teens in front of them were too busy talking about the latest trends to pay them much attention.

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