Arthur was embarrassed by his inability to keep his hands to himself. He had seen Eames' movement, the way he had closed his eyes at the touch, and he felt the way he had pressed against his shoulder, the gentle rub of his thumb that was more reassuring than it had any right to be. It was clear, very clear, that something still bubbled between them and that was just additional evidence that this was his... this was Eames.
He took the cigarettes, teasing himself by letting their fingers touch again just for the briefest of moments.
Eames looked good when he smoked.
"So- so you remember that job?" he asked as they walked, lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag. "You got through it? Did we all get through it?" Well, Eames was here. No one else was. Maybe Eames knew more. Maybe Eames knew what Arthur had wanted from him. Maybe he'd told him at the end of this job, the way he had thought he might. "Did we- what happened?"