Oh but Eames' smile was positively wicked, dark, twisted even in ways that were not normal for him. Ways that had everything to do with the hand sliding over the curve of Arthur's arse, loving the way the fabric of his trousers moved against the silken fabric.

"What? No dinner on the way? You're not a bit peakish?"

Now he was teasing, pushing, wanting to see the way Arthur reacted.