Eames whimpers and whines with pleasure at every touch, licking Arthur with a large tongue that he's certainly not accustomed to, but imagines a great deal could be done with a tongue like that, if they were into certain things. He knows they're not, very clearly. Eames eases back and stands on the bed, giving Arthur the chance to lead him back through the door, if he'd like.

As much as Eames is enjoying himself, he's a tad afraid of letting his full consciousness slip into an animal's brain. He's not sure he'd get it back.