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Arthur was not charmed. He was never charmed by Eames and never would be. So he certainly didn't suppress a smile and nod at the line.

He sighed and side-stepped Eames to flip the music off (strictly against res life policy: never touch a resident's possessions). "There are better ways to keep me around, Mr Eames. Hall programs, for instance. Signing up for one on ones."

Again, Mr Eames?

  "I hardly think that my music is offending anyone at all." He grinned wolfishly, "Cept you, of course." 

He leans back and slowly turns into the room; it is a collection of Jackson Pollock posters and old socks, which look like they’re crawling to hide underneath the bed. He doesn’t motion to the stereo and his roommate, poor, poor Chris Hughes spends most of his time in Dustin Maskovitz’ bed so effectively, he has a single. 

"Besides, it keeps you around so really, it’s only in my favor, darling."

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The ceiling is rattling from Beethoven. Well, maybe not. But it certain feels like his eardrums are about to burst. "I don't..." He tries again, louder. "I don't need to. Just turn the music down, Mr Eames."

He resolutely does not look lower than his eyes. Last time he accidentally caught a glimpse of what Eames looked like in a low-slung towel and he still regrets it. A week ago his eyes ventured lower than Eames' and fixated on his lips. Marlon Brando would get collagen implants for those lips.

Again, Mr Eames?

The best part of Arthur is that he is punctual. And his ass in his trousers. Quite nice, really, but mostly it is his punctuality that Eames adores. Every night at 10 PM, he can always count on the darling to knock three times and with all sorts of predictability, he’ll amend a problem and leave. And Eames gets him for five to ten minutes, every single night.

Eames tilts his head back to the wire of a man, leaning against the door frame in nothing but his most comfortable of attire: nothing but boxer briefs. “Ello, love.” He grins, barely heard over the music, “Care to step in? 

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Again, Mr Eames?

Arthur hated to say it, but he sometimes looked forward to his weekly duty round through Kirkland. It wasn't that he enjoyed confiscating beer pong tables or forcing annoying residents to dump their beer cans. (If people were going to break the rules, they should at least be creative about it.)

But he did, sometimes, enjoy seeing what sort of trouble Eames could get into. He was never tedious or boring about his trouble. That was the only reason he looked forward to duty rounds. The only reason. And the RAs enjoyed that he dressed up for rounds. It's a funny bit.

Really. Eames usually did something that Arthur had to smother a laugh at. Like painting a full mural on the floor's wall. Like stealing toilet paper.

Eames doesn't disappoint tonight. He's blaring Für Elise at top volume. It's not technically quiet hours, but Arthur can hear him from the first floor. He knocks a few times and fixes Eames with a "Really? Really?" expression.

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There are.

I now have a snapchat. Honestly, I'm already bored.

  With so many men in your life, I’m certain there is never a dull moment. Now if only there were living people involved

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And Espinoza. 

I now have a snapchat. Honestly, I'm already bored.

  Coming from someone who spends their friday evenings with Proust, Faust or many other men who are long dead? 

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A bit inappropriate, but I appreciate your sense of humor.

Alright...

  Darling, I know we can’t date while I’m enrolled, but try to mask your excitement.

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That is amongst the saddest things I've ever heard.

I now have a snapchat. Honestly, I'm already bored.

  When I figured out how it works, I immediately became bored…. sounds like most of my romantic relationships.

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I'm looking forward to your graduation, Eames.

Alright...

I find the one of you strewn out on the lounge sofa quite tasteful

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Alright...

...seriously, who has been using my whiteboard to draw nudes of me?

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some ideas for my residents

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Search results for tea and coffee on imgfave on @weheartit.com - http://whrt.it/VhKRIh

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http://jamesbondstyle.tumblr.com

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