Just Like That

Just like that Arthur, who was bloody all over, tired as hell and maybe even a bit freaked out, because he just died in a dream and almost died in reality, walks up to an equally bloody Eames.

Just like that he grabs his hideous, ridiculously bright yellow and blue shirt, yanking him forward.

Just like that their lips meet in a deep, long and dangerous, but overly sweet kiss no one of them can explain even if they want to.

Just like that Eames doesn't resist the second, third, fourth kiss, no he even pulls Arthur closer, pressing their bodies together in the hottest of invitations.

Just like that they forget that their job didn't work out, that they barely made it into Arthur's apartment, that they could be dead this second, they forget everything around them.

Just like that they cross the borderline of being mere colleagues, who shouldn't know anything about the other to something more, something sinfully forbidden, but at the same time the most perfect and right thing either of them did in years.

Just like that…