"Arthur! What a surprise."

Eames stood in the doorway of his hotel room, squinting blearily. A pair of grey sweatpants were slung low on his hips and his t-shirt was wrinkled. "You've woken me up. I thought you were in Holland. What's the occasion?"

"Nothing in particular." Arthur smoothed his hair back nervously. "Can I come in?"

Eames nodded. "Yeah, of course." He ushered him inside the dark room. "I'm afraid you'll have to deal with having the lights off, darling, I've got a hell of a hangover."

"I know." Arthur reached into his pocket and produced a bottle of aspirin. "Here, I got them in the duty free."

Eames frowned suspiciously. "Are they poison?"

"Hardly." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Hurry up, we need to talk."

The forger glared but took the bottle, retreating into the bathroom and running a glass of water. He came back a moment later, looking more alert. He sprawled out on the bed across from Arthur, who had settled in the desk chair and was holding his totem in one hand.

"So then. What's all this about?" he said. "Not that I'm ever disappointed to see you, darling, but this is rather an unexpected visit."

Arthur rubbed his totem absently. "Are you sober?"

"Unfortunately."

"That's too bad. You might want to break open the minibar; This is going to get pretty weird."

An hour later they were still sitting in the hotel room. Arthur had shed his jacket and was rolling the tiny die between his palms, staring up at the ceiling. Eames leaned back against the pillows on his bed, taking a swig from one of the tiny bottles of booze lying around.

"Well." Eames set the bottle down on the nightstand. "This is something different, all right."

"Yeah." Arthur met his gaze. "Look, I know this is sort of coming out of nowhere, but I mean, he... you... Future-Eames told me to find you, and I didn't really know what else to do, so I flew here. I figured..." He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just as confused as you are."

Eames scratched his head. "It's a bit sudden."

Arthur stood up hastily. "I mean, it's not like we have to start living together or anything, or get married, I mean, it was an alternate universe, and... I guess... I mean, it's not like we're a couple or anything."

"But we would be." Eames finished the statement. "Will be. Were? God, keeping track of the tenses alone is a nightmare."

"Mmm."

"I guess..." Eames glanced up at the ceiling fan. "We could always try it, couldn't we?"

"Try what?"

"Don't be thick."

Arthur coughed. "Well, I mean..."

Eames shook his head. "Sorry, that was too forward. Of course you don't want to do anything."

Arthur sat back down heavily. "I didn't say that."

Eames blinked. "Oh."

There was a moment where they just stared at each other.

"So. Any ideas?"

The point man shrugged. "We could kiss."

"We could do that."

"And, I mean, if it's uncomfortable we'll stop, and I'll leave, and we can never speak of this again."

"Yeah." Eames nodded. "Okay. That sounds like a plan."

Arthur got up and sat next to him on the bed. "Should we just lean in?"

"I guess." Eames cleared his throat. "This is sort of awkward."

"I noticed."

"Right. Sorry." He reached out and cupped Arthur's cheek with one hand. "Just... close your eyes."

Arthur nodded, complying. "Okay."

It was light, and soft, and rather quick, but Arthur could feel himself relaxing into Eames' touch, and despite the recently consumed alcohol and the fact that the forger obviously hadn't brushed his teeth yet there was something distinctively EAMES that he could taste, even after he had pulled away.

They stared at each other for a second before Eames dropped his hand back to his lap and Arthur straightened his tie.

"Well, that wasn't bad at all." Eames said, scratching his stubbled chin. Arthur nodded.

"No. Not bad at all." He glanced up. "What happens now?"

"I don't know." Eames took his hand. "I don't know."