neededforger | Making up for lost time, one more time.

Making up for lost time, one more time.

They had lazed about for most of the day, mostly just because they could, and even when one or the other of them got up to use the bathroom or retrieve a book, they always came right back, as if somehow that bed held all the secrets of the universe. Come afternoon, Eames went to get his laptop, doing some research to find a restaurant for dinner, coming up with a few nearby and just deciding by what was closest, since he figured the walk would do them both good.
He even made a reservation, just to make sure they'd have a seat, even though as far as he could tell they were wide open as far as space.

"Are you ready, Arthur?" He called back towards the bedroom from where he was perched on the couch, having settled there after he'd gotten dressed, waiting for the other man to finish his shower, though the water had been off for a while.

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Arthur gave him a flat look and answer to go with it, "Use a mirror."

"No good." He said with a shrug, sipping at his pint again, "Only ever see myself." This wasn't strictly true, if he caught his reflection in his peripheral vision he looked the same way anyone else saw him, or if he managed to get a proper dressing mirror that had three sides, he could play the reflections off of each other and get it sorted out that way, which was how he usually did things.

Same look, "Liar." Arthur knew how he worked and while a mirror may not be as good as a new pair of eyes, that didn't rule it out as a tool.

He shrugged, sitting back in his seat, already having decided on what he was going to eat, "I should be fine though, I've been sicker and hadn't had any problems with the usual set of skills."

"Good. Then you won't need my help." He was pretty sure he had found what he wanted, too and took another sip of his drink.

"I'd prefer your help." He said, tone earnest, "But if I have to do without, well I'll just make due."

He grinned at the waitress when she returned, ordering in German, since his German was far better than his French, though not quite as good as his Russian.

Arthur remained silent at Eames' other statement, not wanting to get into that kind of discussion right now. Or later, really.

When it came time for him to order (his German still a bit rusty but decent enough) he decided on a plate of Hackfleisch. From what he could tell of the description, it would fill him up easily (and give him some much needed protein). When he was done he handed his menu back. He already knew what he wanted for dessert, too.

"You'll have to tell me how that is." Eames said, smiling faintly again, "It was a tossup between that and the roast, it's just been longer since I had a proper roast, and it sounded good."

Arthur shrugged, sitting back in his seat, "From its description, it sounds like beef stew - just without the rice and carrots."

"I know what it is." He said, smiling crookedly, "I've had it before. It's always a tossup whether or not it's going to be good is all, sometimes it's too spicy."

Shrugging, but giving Eames a slightly annoyed look, "Guess I'll find out." And took another swallow of his drink.

His brow arched at the annoyed look, head tilting, "What was that for?"

Arthur just shook his head, looking away. He wasn't even about to explain his moods - even he didn't know why he felt the way he did half the time.

His brow furrowed then, but he nodded once, just falling silent for the time being, gaze skimming over the crowd once more, far more subtly than he'd done when they'd first arrived.

Arthur ended up looking out the nearest window, watching the sun disappear completely and the various lights of the city illuminated the streets and buildings instead. While Arthur thought those were relatively nice to look at, it was also a bit of a problem. A person wouldn't be able to see the stars.

It wasn't a particularly big thing with Arthur, but sometimes it was very nice to see them (especially when in a different part of the world).

Eames, for his part, ended up getting distracted by the line of Arthur's jaw and throat when he turned his head, likely not even realizing that he was staring, really.

Arthur did notice the stare after a while, his brow creasing slightly and then arching a brow at the other man.

There was a faint smile when he realized he'd been caught, shaking his head and taking another healthy swallow of his pint, smiling again when their waitress came back with bread and butter, "lovely."

Arthur looked at Eames a bit suspiciously but went back to looking out the window, wanting to save the bread for when his food got there.

Eames buttered one of the thick slices of bread liberally, humming contentedly to himself as he did so, taking small, careful bites.

Arthur, still looking out the window, ended up starting at Eames' reflection in the window. Especially his lips... Very distracting when he licked butter from them.

And if Eames had realized he was being distracting, he would have done it on purpose, because sometimes he was a bastard like that. He beamed outright when the main course arrived, sitting back in his seat and unfolding his napkin.

Arthur finally drew his eyes away from the window, blinking when his plate was set in front of him. He thanked the waitress and took a look at his meal. Smelled good enough. Looked pretty good. He took up his fork and got some of the meat and a potato and tasted it.

His eyebrows went up and he nodded slightly as he took another bite and chewed. Swallowing that mouthful he grabbed a few slices of bread and ended up putting some on one piece, eating some more of it like that, licking his lips even.

Either this was really good or he was more hungry than he realized.

He had to smile at that s well, shaking his head, "Breathe between bites, Arthur. It's hardly going to get away if you don't eat it all right now." he was glad, however, that Arthur was eating, since it meant that he probably wasn't going to get the head cold of doom.

He was taking almost cautious bites of his own dinner, mostly because it was still hot, but it was also delicious, so he couldn't stop eating to give it time to cool.

Smirking, "Only if you make sure not to burn your tongue and mouth on that steaming pile of meat there." Using his fork to point and then scooping more onto his second piece of bread.

And, after another mouthful, "And don't you say the same thing to me when I have my coffee? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe no one ever gets to it because I don't let them?" His tone was light even though his face was completely serious.

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