Eames would laugh if he wasn't groggy as hell and stiff from falling asleep the way he did. He stands with a grunt of effort, resigning himself to the fact that he's probably going back to sleep in a few hours anyway as he pads out the the kitchen to put some coffee on. Going to the cupboard on autopilot to get some dog food out before he remembers Boxer isn't here, and he settles for sighing and leaning against the counter instead.