Arthur has to reach up to roughly swipe his hair back because it's falling forward into his eyes, and like hell is he letting anything obscure his view. It's a special kind of madness that's got hold of them both, making Arthur press forward against Eames' hands, relishing in those points of contact even if he might vehemently deny wanting it at any other time.

Even if the pace is still rough, Arthur's slowed down a bit, just enough so he can concentrate on clenching down around Eames' cock to push him harder towards the edge. "Come on, Eames," he murmurs, biting his lip on a particularly hard grind down, his own dick twitching in the Forge's hand as it leaks eagerly.