"Yes," he replies in a slight sound, curling off into a groan that Eames tries to keep quiet, breathing irregular and lost in his throat, "Yes."
His fingers flex against the wall as he breathes but doesn't make any move to help Arthur, stays as still as he can, because he's been put there and it's only right that he stays.
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His fingers flex against the wall as he breathes but doesn't make any move to help Arthur, stays as still as he can, because he's been put there and it's only right that he stays.