Arthur rolls his eyes but doesn't pull away from Eames, instead taking his arm and putting it over the slimmer man's shoulders. It's weird how that playful smile is both a bit of a relief and a bit painful to look at, but Arthur doesn't want to look into it, now, when they're both reeling from everything possible.

"Forget the couch," he huffs, getting them both to stand. "C'mon. We both need to wash up."