( Oh, but that smile. Eames would raze cities and burn down monuments to keep that smile on Arthur's face. He quickly forgoes being even the slightest bit demure and strips the rest of his clothes off, slipping into bed beside the other man. When he turns on his side to look at him, head pillowed against his arm, he's sure he has the stupidest look on his face.

But he doesn't try to hide it, not anymore. This is important. )

Do you know how lovely you look when you smile, Arthur?

( He lifts a hand, thumb tracing the outline of his bottom lip before his palm cups Arthur's jaw. It's gentle, and soft, and he feels a little exposed with it, but it has to be said. )

The first time I saw it I knew there'd never be anything prettier.