Eames felt a whole slew of emotions, but he couldn't pin a single one down.

Horror, maybe, at having gone so long without realizing it. Astonishment, perhaps, at how things had turned out. Primarily, there was a burning, flushing feeling knotted in his stomach. It might be awe.

Eames looked back down at the moleskin, turned the page, and found another of the poems hastily scratched there. He begins to mumble it aloud:

"Like a torrent,

It threatens to never fade,

The looks, touches and sighs,

Nights spent memorizing lines,

Watching, breathing in sync,

It's like a torrent,

A never fading ache,

Complete need,

I want more and more still,

I want to take you all,

I want to make you mine,

I want."

When Eames finishes his lips still, but his eyes go wide and itch with emotion. This discovery was more than unexpected.

"See?" A voice asks over his left shoulder "It was never about not wanting you."

A hand ghosts over Eames' cheek, followed the curve of his jaw, and settles, cool, against his neck. Eames leans his head back to rest against the other man's chest.

"It was always about wanting you too much."

Eames lets the moleskin drop and grabs up Arthur's hand. Touching a kiss to the other man's wrist he replies "You can have me all."