There's a quiet, amused noise from Eames, one huffed into his glass with a murmur of "flatterer" that comes out less like admonishment and more like a pet name. With the familiar weight of someone who's said it to him a thousand times and knows he'll probably say it a thousand more. He doesn't respond to Reynard, not physically, but the fox has his attention for now.

"Never were one for delayed gratification, were you?" It's a tease, but it's true too. He's never known Reynard to be one for waiting if it could be avoided. Truth be told it's a quality they share, but Eames has an endless reservoir of patience if he lets himself tap into it, hates waiting but not enough to outweigh the thrill of playing the long game.