Let's meet under covers

It came as an idea, as most things do.

He was propped up in bed reading by dim light of the nightstand lamp when he looked over at him.

Arthur had assumed his position, rolled on his side, away from Eames. The white comforter tucked all around his bent body tightly and pulled over his head, only a little tuft of dark curl visible.

Eames was always a little concerned he couldn't breathe like that.

He looked like a silk worm-covers hugging the contours of his slim figure.

Eames took off his reading glasses and smiled warmly.

He always loved moments like this where Arthur was unawares and he could take him in at his leisure. He always hated when he stared at him but now he was soft ball of fluff, warm and vulnerable under the blankets-his eyes couldn't get enough.

But his body craved more.

He turned off the bedside lamp, removing his glasses and slid next to Arthur.

He wrapped his body around him from behind but felt frustrated he couldn't feel his skin and warmth through the layers of blanket.

He tried to pry him free so he could share that warmth with him but Arthur had wrapped it around him so tightly it wouldn't budge easily. If he persisted he surely would wake.

He wanted to feel his bare back, his shoulders, his neck-all things so close and familiar.

Arthur was his own worst cock block.

He released a defeated sigh and regrettably rolled back to his respective side of the bed which was cold.

He closed his eyes and in between waking and dreaming he sharpened his idea.

Eames came to collect him after a long day working in the warehouse.

Arthur begged him off, saying he had to work later, going over "some things".

Eames repressed rolling his eyes. It was just par for the course.

The man breathed, ate, shat, and slept work.

It was like pulling teeth for him to walk away from it sometimes.

But Eames could bide his time. He could be patient this time. He had a plan.

He came home to their empty flat-meticulously clean and well kept.

He went around and lit candles and left Arthur a note

He placed the flowers in the vase, gathered all his materials and set to work

He wasn't sure how long he waited. It felt like he was in limbo-waiting on baited breath.

When he heard their front door opening and Arthur's foot falls his heart leapt to his throat and his skin started to tingle in anticipation.

He imagined him seeing the flowers on the table, the candles lit all around and the note with his horrid scrawl inside.

He imagined that maybe he was smiling faintly, eyes creasing and reflecting in the warm glow from the candles flames, dimples appearing.

He wanted very badly to take in his reaction but again he could wait.

It would be worth it.

He heard Arthur's hesitant footsteps approaching. He imagined the shock, pleasure and curiosity spreading out on his face.

Eames continued to wait, sitting Indian style, heart thumping with anticipation.

Arthur pulled back the blanket, the flap of the makeshift tent, and his face peered in.

He took in what Eames had meticulously created in three hours.

He looked all around curiously and finally rested on Eames' face. His expression was blank but Eames knew him long enough to recognize the slight flicker of awe at his dark eyes and the way he was restraining from smiling.

"Hi," he said warmly.

"Hi," Eames returned, smiling

Arthur broke the gaze, looking down and he was definitely not hiding his smile very well.

"Come in, take a load off. You better take off your shoes."

Arthur nodded looking a bit pink in the face and slightly mystified, it was a delicious look.

Arthur's face left the space and he heard him walking around their bedroom-presumably taking off shoes and jacket.

He returned a couple moments later still looking pink in the face, hiding a smile.

He had indeed removed his jacket, his tie and thankfully his shoes.

He crouched to enter, planted a small, swift kiss on Eames' lips before he bent down and sat Indian style across from him.

"You built a tent on top of our bed?"

"Yes."

"You set up our record player in here."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Eames waggled his eyebrows.

"I'm getting to that love."

Eames reached over and started the record.

The Rolling Stones:"She Smiled Sweetly" filled the makeshift tent.

The faint light of their bedroom filtered in through the wool blankets casting a warm glow. Eames was quite warm after sitting under the tent for what he guessed was over an hour. Seeing Arthur ignited more of that heat

Eames reached over and took Arthur's hands. He turned them over slowly and kissed his wrists.

"It's warm under here," Arthur murmured.

"That's the point, love," he said between nibbles on his wrist.

They sat in silence, enjoying the song.

He switched it to "Ruby Tuesday" after it ended.

Eames liked how Arthur had relaxed considerably and how the warmth of the enclosed space was affecting him-eyelids getting a bit droopy, cheeks flushed, hair curling, muscles in his neck and back unclenched. He undid the top buttons of his shirt and was playing with his collar, trying to get in more air.

Eames had made the tent big enough that it enclosed the entire bed.

"How long did it take you to make this?" Arthur was inspecting it again, touching the blankets, looking amazed like he hadn't seen them before and really he hadn't-them being used in a completely new way.

Eames chuckled a little.

"Don't ask me that."

They shared a knowing look.

"Lay down with me."

Eames took his wrists again gently and Arthur surprisingly was complacent, sleep tugging at his eyes.

They relaxed back into their soft pillows expelling hot breath.

Arthur was looking up to the ceiling which was made of soft cotton and wool. He seemed content which suited him.

Eames turned him so that he was lying on his side. He sidled up alongside him and spooned him, hugging his body close, liking how their bodies fit together well like two puzzle pieces.

He sighed in pleasure against his neck.

"I never get to be under the covers with you. You're always so wrapped up. I just wanted to be let in."

"Eames..."

"I know it sounds silly…"

"I love you."

"Oh."

He smiled and felt content leaning against his body, feeling his heart beat, letting the silence and warmth spread between them.

"Wouldn't it better if we removed some clothes?"

Eames almost blushed a little at his question, he was glad he couldn't see his face.

"Yes," he said it almost in a whisper.

He liked how quickly he whipped off his white, button down shirt and gray trousers.

Eames stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt.

Thankfully Arthur resumed his position and Eames spooned him once again, hugging him tighter, loving how their exposed skin brushed.

"Thank you," he murmured into his skin, closing his eyes.

Arthur shrugged slightly and Eames knew he was drifting off to sleep.

He didn't mind. He was finally let into his world.