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[ That noise sounds a bit pained at first, but then there are strong arms wrapping around his middle and he decides, yeah, it's alright. Eames is warm all over, body heat soaking through his clothes. Arthur's never felt such an urge to lay next to someone, just like that, without the pretense of sex.
When they finally pull away, just a bit, he's smiling wide, eyes curved with happiness, the dimples on his cheeks digging deep into their shape. ]
I missed you too, Mr. Eames.
[ That smile shifts, a little more of a wry twist. ]
Don't count your chickens, that isn't off the table. I'm just biding my time.
[ Reluctantly, he slips out of Eames' hold, taking a step towards the kitchen before he glances towards the nearby staircase. ]
Room's upstairs, second door on the right. You really do look hellishly exhausted.
[ Briefly, he reaches out, combs some of the mussed hair off of Eames' brow, hand pulling away a second later. ] Go on, get comfortable. I'm gonna put these in water and I'll be up.
When they finally pull away, just a bit, he's smiling wide, eyes curved with happiness, the dimples on his cheeks digging deep into their shape. ]
I missed you too, Mr. Eames.
[ That smile shifts, a little more of a wry twist. ]
Don't count your chickens, that isn't off the table. I'm just biding my time.
[ Reluctantly, he slips out of Eames' hold, taking a step towards the kitchen before he glances towards the nearby staircase. ]
Room's upstairs, second door on the right. You really do look hellishly exhausted.
[ Briefly, he reaches out, combs some of the mussed hair off of Eames' brow, hand pulling away a second later. ] Go on, get comfortable. I'm gonna put these in water and I'll be up.
See that there is exactly why you should take a vacation. Doing some relaxing wouldn't kill you.
When was the last time you weren't working a job or waiting for one to begin?
When was the last time you weren't working a job or waiting for one to begin?
[ Wow. He has to think about this.
In fact, it's at least 20 minutes before Eames gets a response, because he literally had to dig his calendar up. ]
...About three years ago, I think?
In fact, it's at least 20 minutes before Eames gets a response, because he literally had to dig his calendar up. ]
...About three years ago, I think?
[In that amount of time, Eames had thought that Arthur had grown tired of the conversation altogether and had decided to stop humoring him. So he was a bit surprised when Arthur texted him back, and for a moment, he wondered if he had to actually consult his records.]
You really had to think long and hard for the answer, didn't you? That's a sign you're overdue.
You really had to think long and hard for the answer, didn't you? That's a sign you're overdue.
I might've had to page back through my calendar. I just really don't know what to do with myself when I have that much time to kill.
Relax? Buy tacky tourist trap souvenirs? Learn belly dancing? Take up knitting?
here
[Arthur knew Dom best and they both understood that, generally, Dom claimed to have a grasp on situations that he didn't. But if they talked about it, they'd fight. He's already had a bad day.]
Third floor. Room 330.
Don't knock, just come in.
[He's half way in the shower when he sets the phone down.]
[Arthur knew Dom best and they both understood that, generally, Dom claimed to have a grasp on situations that he didn't. But if they talked about it, they'd fight. He's already had a bad day.]
Third floor. Room 330.
Don't knock, just come in.
[He's half way in the shower when he sets the phone down.]
[ When the message comes through, he just gives it a passing glance, confirming something he already knew. As well as something he hadn't quite expected. They were friendly– well, more than that, sometimes– but generally they held some pretense of boundaries.
In their line of work, it was easier to build walls. Safer.
But Dom is letting him waltz on in. He'd like to say he doesn't hesitate before he slides the keycard in, but he does. Once it's done though, there's no turning back. So he breezes in with his neutral nonchalance as usual, sets the bottle of gin on the small table that holds the complimentary coffee and tea packets. Two glasses sit, upside down and untouched. Arthur flips them both, uncaps the gin, and pours a generous measure in one, regular for the other. His day hasn't been nearly as shitty.
The first sip burns a little and he takes another as he hears Dom rattling around in the bathroom. ]
If you're going to make me drink alone, Cobb, I'm leaving.
[ Not really, but it's the thought that counts. ]
In their line of work, it was easier to build walls. Safer.
But Dom is letting him waltz on in. He'd like to say he doesn't hesitate before he slides the keycard in, but he does. Once it's done though, there's no turning back. So he breezes in with his neutral nonchalance as usual, sets the bottle of gin on the small table that holds the complimentary coffee and tea packets. Two glasses sit, upside down and untouched. Arthur flips them both, uncaps the gin, and pours a generous measure in one, regular for the other. His day hasn't been nearly as shitty.
The first sip burns a little and he takes another as he hears Dom rattling around in the bathroom. ]
If you're going to make me drink alone, Cobb, I'm leaving.
[ Not really, but it's the thought that counts. ]
[It’s been a long time since he’s done this with anyone. Longer still, with Arthur. They were friends first and they had their boundaries. Lines drawn to keep them safe.
He considers backing out. Sending a message telling Arthur that he’s changed his mind.
This will break down some of those walls. Exposure and vulnerability were a deterrent for something like this. He could already see all of Cobb’s weak points, could read him better than anyone else. But he needed it. The contact and distraction. Intimacy with another person who was real. That he could feel beneath his fingertips.
He turns the shower off and wraps a towel around his waist.]
Empty threats, Arthur?
[Cobb asks, as he closes the bathroom door behind him.]
He considers backing out. Sending a message telling Arthur that he’s changed his mind.
This will break down some of those walls. Exposure and vulnerability were a deterrent for something like this. He could already see all of Cobb’s weak points, could read him better than anyone else. But he needed it. The contact and distraction. Intimacy with another person who was real. That he could feel beneath his fingertips.
He turns the shower off and wraps a towel around his waist.]
Empty threats, Arthur?
[Cobb asks, as he closes the bathroom door behind him.]
Eames. Can you honestly imagine me doing any of those things?
Of course. I'm not the one lacking in imagination.
( Those dimples will be the death of him. Eames knows he's staring like a dump sap, but he doesn't want to stop. Arthur is unfairly beautiful. )
All right.
( He flashes Arthur another small smile before moving to the stairs, letting his heavy tread take him up. It takes a little bit of poking around to find the bathroom - he'd call down but he doesn't think it'll be much minded if he goes looking - and after taking a piss and splashing his face with water he feels a lot better. Less like he'll never get the smell of other people off his skin at least.
The room is nice, comfortable looking, though Eames thinks he'd find a park bench comfortable right now. Tomorrow he'll let his eyes actually look at the decor, at finding the little bits and pieces that he knows from Arthur's quirks.
He's toeing his shoes off when he hears footsteps in the hall and he looks up, suddenly grinning. )
You good, poppet?
All right.
( He flashes Arthur another small smile before moving to the stairs, letting his heavy tread take him up. It takes a little bit of poking around to find the bathroom - he'd call down but he doesn't think it'll be much minded if he goes looking - and after taking a piss and splashing his face with water he feels a lot better. Less like he'll never get the smell of other people off his skin at least.
The room is nice, comfortable looking, though Eames thinks he'd find a park bench comfortable right now. Tomorrow he'll let his eyes actually look at the decor, at finding the little bits and pieces that he knows from Arthur's quirks.
He's toeing his shoes off when he hears footsteps in the hall and he looks up, suddenly grinning. )
You good, poppet?
As if you'd ever do something so undignified.
( He grins with his teeth, eyes warm where they rest on Arthur. For a moment he merely lets himself look. He's always been a purveyor of art, and the relaxed shape of Arthur's brow is a masterpiece.
He doesn't even care to be bashful when he breaks the silence, tilting his glass and raising an eyebrow. )
Want another? My shout.
( He grins with his teeth, eyes warm where they rest on Arthur. For a moment he merely lets himself look. He's always been a purveyor of art, and the relaxed shape of Arthur's brow is a masterpiece.
He doesn't even care to be bashful when he breaks the silence, tilting his glass and raising an eyebrow. )
Want another? My shout.
Make it 60 and it's a deal.
I'll book tickets, if you want.
I'll book tickets, if you want.
60 then. wouldn't want your lovely skin suffering.
( Are they doing this? They're probably doing this. They're just two mates going on holiday where one might wear a speedo and give the other a conniption. It's fine. )
you know which passports i have a warrant out on, it makes sense.
( Are they doing this? They're probably doing this. They're just two mates going on holiday where one might wear a speedo and give the other a conniption. It's fine. )
you know which passports i have a warrant out on, it makes sense.
If I burn, you're never hearing the end of it.
[ They're definitely doing this. He's made up his mind and he isn't about to back out. If this goes south he only has himself to blame, really. For egging Eames on. ]
I'll send you the confirmations. Try not to burn any identities in the next little while.
[ They're definitely doing this. He's made up his mind and he isn't about to back out. If this goes south he only has himself to blame, really. For egging Eames on. ]
I'll send you the confirmations. Try not to burn any identities in the next little while.
[ He doesn't really have any vases laying around in the cabinets, because why the heck would he? Eventually, he does manage to fish a mason jar out from the back of the glasses, trims the stems with a pair of scissors before dropping them in the jar. It's stupid, how much he likes the flowers, but he sets it on the kitchen table so they'll get some sun in the morning.
Downstairs, he makes his rounds and clicks off the lights, checks the locks on the door and then heads upstairs. Eames has probably settled at least a little bit and the thought makes his heart jump in his throat. Because Eames is here, in his house, in his room. There's a bit of trepidation behind it all, but mostly he's happy with this development. ]
Shouldn't that be my line? You were the one traveling.
[ Arthur steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him and then stripping off his shirt, letting it land on the floor. Truthfully, he's more than content if they just. End up falling asleep together. He won't say no if Eames decides he's up for something else, though. ]
Downstairs, he makes his rounds and clicks off the lights, checks the locks on the door and then heads upstairs. Eames has probably settled at least a little bit and the thought makes his heart jump in his throat. Because Eames is here, in his house, in his room. There's a bit of trepidation behind it all, but mostly he's happy with this development. ]
Shouldn't that be my line? You were the one traveling.
[ Arthur steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him and then stripping off his shirt, letting it land on the floor. Truthfully, he's more than content if they just. End up falling asleep together. He won't say no if Eames decides he's up for something else, though. ]
( He's a series of obscene and strange noises tonight, it would seem. Because Arthur takes off his shirt and Eames almost swallows his tongue. He can't help it - he's seen Arthur in various states before, yes. This is different. This is him being allowed. To look, to want, to be there. And it's not how he imagined this would go, but then again, maybe it's for the best. It's definitely better than Eames' lurid fantasies. )
I'd put up with any number of shootouts and shitty boat trips if you were the thing greeting me after each one.
( He can't help but reach out to grab Arthur by the hip, tug until he's stood between the vee of Eames' legs and all he has to do is tip his head up to smile at him. It's a soft look, ridiculous for all the years he's spent trying to come across as aloof. There's nothing uncaring in it. )
Look at you.
( Instead of flirtatious his words come out awed, gaze wondering. And then, because this time he isn't drunk. Tired, but completely sober, he licks his lips and clears his throat. )
Hello Arthur. I'm completely and utterly in love with you.
I'd put up with any number of shootouts and shitty boat trips if you were the thing greeting me after each one.
( He can't help but reach out to grab Arthur by the hip, tug until he's stood between the vee of Eames' legs and all he has to do is tip his head up to smile at him. It's a soft look, ridiculous for all the years he's spent trying to come across as aloof. There's nothing uncaring in it. )
Look at you.
( Instead of flirtatious his words come out awed, gaze wondering. And then, because this time he isn't drunk. Tired, but completely sober, he licks his lips and clears his throat. )
Hello Arthur. I'm completely and utterly in love with you.
[ There's a strangled sort of noise coming from Eames and when Arthur turns to look, he raises an eyebrow at the bit of shock written across his face. They've seen each other shirtless. Actually, completely stark nude. And in many cases, with his legs spread wide without a single care in the world.
He's about to make some comment on that but then he's reeled in, going easily with the tug and glancing up. Whatever sarcastic remark he had just dies then, completely killed by the soft words and softer look. Swallowing, he feels his face heat up, embarrassed and flattered all at once. Ducking his head, he leans in to set his cheek on Eames' shoulder, both arms wrapping loosely around the forger's waist. ]
Asshole, why do you have to be good with words.
[ It's murmured, no heat behind it because this is his version of vulnerable, the hard edges filed away to let himself just enjoy the embrace. To let any of the touching happen to begin with. ]
I, uh, am too. [ Wait. ] In love with you, I mean.
[ Holy fuck why is this so hard??? ]
He's about to make some comment on that but then he's reeled in, going easily with the tug and glancing up. Whatever sarcastic remark he had just dies then, completely killed by the soft words and softer look. Swallowing, he feels his face heat up, embarrassed and flattered all at once. Ducking his head, he leans in to set his cheek on Eames' shoulder, both arms wrapping loosely around the forger's waist. ]
Asshole, why do you have to be good with words.
[ It's murmured, no heat behind it because this is his version of vulnerable, the hard edges filed away to let himself just enjoy the embrace. To let any of the touching happen to begin with. ]
I, uh, am too. [ Wait. ] In love with you, I mean.
[ Holy fuck why is this so hard??? ]
I'm not. If I was I would have told you long ago.
( Instead he poked fun, and hid away from the truth of the matter. But Eames is tired of shadows and secrets. He's too old for them, and when Arthur blushes like that he wonders what he was so scared of in the first place. Certainly not this, because even in it's sweet agony it's perfect.
When Eames pulls back, his grin is more real, more familiar. It's easy to lift a hand to cup Arthur's jaw, to stroke his thumb along the sharp edge of his cheekbone. Easier still to lean in. )
I'm going to kiss you now, if that's all right.
( He doesn't wait for an answer. Arthur's fumbling was enough of one, and they've already wasted years. So he kisses him instead of pausing, a firm press of his mouth, fingers moving to thread through his hair. It's not like any of his fantasies, and that's what makes his pulse kick, because they're in Arthur's home, half dressed, somewhat exhausted, and Eames hasn't tried to ply him with expensive wine and cheap flirtation. Frankly, it's fucking amazing. )
( Instead he poked fun, and hid away from the truth of the matter. But Eames is tired of shadows and secrets. He's too old for them, and when Arthur blushes like that he wonders what he was so scared of in the first place. Certainly not this, because even in it's sweet agony it's perfect.
When Eames pulls back, his grin is more real, more familiar. It's easy to lift a hand to cup Arthur's jaw, to stroke his thumb along the sharp edge of his cheekbone. Easier still to lean in. )
I'm going to kiss you now, if that's all right.
( He doesn't wait for an answer. Arthur's fumbling was enough of one, and they've already wasted years. So he kisses him instead of pausing, a firm press of his mouth, fingers moving to thread through his hair. It's not like any of his fantasies, and that's what makes his pulse kick, because they're in Arthur's home, half dressed, somewhat exhausted, and Eames hasn't tried to ply him with expensive wine and cheap flirtation. Frankly, it's fucking amazing. )
[ When his forger backs out, Arthur's stuck with locating another one on relatively short notice. It's not an ideal situation but he's also had way less lead time before so he just sets his irritation aside and gets to work on sniffing out another one. Forgers are so changeable in this industry, always coming in and out, occasionally going to ground and disappearing off the map. Normally, he works with Eames because of this, knows he's always up for a forge and that he's dependable.
Unfortunately, the timing doesn't work out. Eames is already knee-deep in a classic heist, planning intricate details and feverishly forging an expensive vase.
So, that brings him here, to a smoky lounge in the upscale part of town. He's got a dry martini sitting on the bar near the back of his hand, primly set on a napkin. His new forger should be meeting him here soon– a man who simply went by "Peter". Eames had recommended him when he'd taken pity on his plight and Arthur hadn't hesitated to reach out. Sometimes it was hit or miss with his recommendations, but they always produced good work.
He takes a sip of his drink, checks his watch, and waits. ]
Unfortunately, the timing doesn't work out. Eames is already knee-deep in a classic heist, planning intricate details and feverishly forging an expensive vase.
So, that brings him here, to a smoky lounge in the upscale part of town. He's got a dry martini sitting on the bar near the back of his hand, primly set on a napkin. His new forger should be meeting him here soon– a man who simply went by "Peter". Eames had recommended him when he'd taken pity on his plight and Arthur hadn't hesitated to reach out. Sometimes it was hit or miss with his recommendations, but they always produced good work.
He takes a sip of his drink, checks his watch, and waits. ]
Yeah well, that's kind of on both of us, isn't it?
[ Neither of them were good at saying how they felt. Eames hid himself with layers of nonchalance. Brushed things off like they were a joke, inconsequential. And Arthur was no better, finding it easier to lean into the barbed words, on the tension that existed in their working relationship.
Never address anything deeper than that. Except now they have and they're here, standing in his bedroom and Eames has flown basically across the world to be here. There's flowers in the kitchen downstairs, Eames in his arms, and he feels full to bursting.
Tilting his head, he presses into the kiss, not even bothering to answer. This is enough. Sighing, he pulls away, flicking a warm gaze to the forger's face as he tugs him towards the bed, hand in hand. ]
Get out of all that and come to bed.
[ Neither of them were good at saying how they felt. Eames hid himself with layers of nonchalance. Brushed things off like they were a joke, inconsequential. And Arthur was no better, finding it easier to lean into the barbed words, on the tension that existed in their working relationship.
Never address anything deeper than that. Except now they have and they're here, standing in his bedroom and Eames has flown basically across the world to be here. There's flowers in the kitchen downstairs, Eames in his arms, and he feels full to bursting.
Tilting his head, he presses into the kiss, not even bothering to answer. This is enough. Sighing, he pulls away, flicking a warm gaze to the forger's face as he tugs him towards the bed, hand in hand. ]
Get out of all that and come to bed.
( He only lets go to pull his shirt free from his waistband, not even bothering to unbutton it before he's tugging it over his head. His undershirt goes next, leaving his hair a mess that he doesn't try to fix because he's working on his belt. Eames undresses with ease - it's nothing Arthur hasn't seen before, and honestly he's just glad to shed as much of his travel as he can.
He does leave his pants on, because he's not a hooligan.
Well, at least not today. )
You know, you say things like that and I'm not entirely sure I didn't hit my head somewhere halfway across the globe.
( He's teasing, grinning with a flash of teeth as he lets himself relax. )
He does leave his pants on, because he's not a hooligan.
Well, at least not today. )
You know, you say things like that and I'm not entirely sure I didn't hit my head somewhere halfway across the globe.
( He's teasing, grinning with a flash of teeth as he lets himself relax. )
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