artfulforger | Ships Passing: The fallout of falling in to bed

Ships Passing: The fallout of falling in to bed - For Arthur

Eames had roused when Arthur started moving, though he wasn't even close to ready to get out of bed. The beauty of things was, it wasn't as if he could be seen going in at the same time as the point man, so he merely dragged the blanket half over his head and pretended to sleep.

He lay there, listening to Arthur move around the room, crawling out long enough to kiss him and mumble about seeing him later in the day.

Except Eames never came in. No call. Just a text saying all was good, explain later. He said nothing though when he came in the day after, two days worth of stubble and looking downright worn and weary as he dropped down at his desk.

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"Funny. I plan to work it hard too," he admitted, unable to help himself from making that particular joke. "Course you know it's a lot more things that I like you for, though the ass is a nice touch." It was playful and teasing and he was enjoying himself, that much was obvious.

He chuckled then, fingers brushing teasingly up the length of Arthur's spine. "No, but when I'm distracted, cleaning and keeping things clean is the last thing on my mind. In case you didn't realize it, you're distracting."

Arthur chuckled. "I hope so," he admitted. He knew that there was more here than just Eames' liking of his ass. If it had only been sex, they wouldn't be here - talking about it. He pressed his ass back against Eames' hand playfully before shifting and relaxing again on his lap.

"And in case you haven't noticed, you're also distracting," Arthur said, looking at him with an amused smile.

“You know, you keep it up then you only have yourself to blame when someone figures out you got a broken ass,” he teased, leaning in to trail his tongue along the corded muscles on the side of Arthur’s neck. “No one blame but you.” Which he thought was sexy in and of its own right.

“I damn well better be. Took enough years trying to catch your attention,” he pointed out.

Arthur chuckled and tilted his head, his eyes slipping closed partway. "Mm, me and you," he teased. Though he wouldn't deny the fact that he thought it was sexy and hot.

His lips curled up. "You caught my attention years ago," he admitted. "Just took a long time for either of us to act on it and not run away from it."

"Well, you can blame me because I've taken care of that pretty arse," he teased. That they could joke like this meant so much to Eames. How had they gone from barely speaking to joking lovers so easily? Did it matter how it happened? No, all that mattered was that it had.

"Oh? When did that happen," he asked, curious now. "Tell me when I caught your eye."

"You have taken care of my ass," Arthur admitted with a chuckle and rest his said ass on Eames' knees, making a soft sound in response. He wasn't sure how or why this was so easy - why this felt so natural after being so antagonistic toward each other for so long.

"A little bit before Morocco," he admitted and looked at him. "It was the Smits job and you were wearing that tailored shirt and those slacks." Never mind the fact that the job had been shot to hell and they had banded together to get each other out of that hell hole. He had taken a bullet that day and it changed everything - for him.

Eames wasn't sure what answer he'd been expecting from Arthur but this wasn't it. He knew when. He was naming a job, what Eames had been wearing. All of it shocked him more than he would have thought it would.

"We nearly died then," he murmured softly. "Least I thought you were going to." That admission hurt. He'd been so afraid then. "I was scared shitless I would lose you. Then I got panicked, about how I felt about you."

Arthur ducked his head a fraction before he lifted it and looked at him. "I know we did," he said, his voice soft. It had scared him too but he had taken that bullet for Eames.

Eames had been in the line of fire and not only was it his job as a point man to look out for his team but it had also been the feelings he was starting to recognize as feelings for Eames. "I took it because of you." They had argued about that afterward - about how Arthur shouldn't have done something as stupid as that. At that time, however, he had said it was because of the team but in reality, it was because it had been Eames. With all of his stupid patterns, his ridiculous knowledge and intelligence, that infuriatingly delicious smirk, his teasing grin, those lips, his knowing eyes, his arms -- and how Eames seemed to just knock past all those mental barriers.

"You stayed and helped me though - long as you could." He still had a scar on his chest from it. "I knew then that there was something more between us."

Eames' hands were large and rough. He knew that, yet his touch was delicate as those same calloused hands gently grasped either side of Arthur's face. "Don't you ever dare do that again," he whispered, choking on the words. "You can't do that to me." Losing Arthur would be devastating. Losing him because he gave his life for Eames' would destroy the forger. Utterly and completely.

"Course I did. You were a fool and someone had to care for you," he said softly, his voice tender. "I was pissed that I had to leave." He'd agreed to a job and knew the hell it would be if he didn't make it. Like the kind of that got a person shot. "If there's a next time, I won't leave."

Arthur really had no other choice but to look at Eames when he talked to him. His eyes softened when he heard those words from Eames and heard the hitch in his tone. "All I can do is promise to get out of a sticky spot before bullets are exchanged," he whispered. He felt he knew the answer already but still, he wanted to ask. "Would you have done the same for me?"

His lips curled up a little. "You were an amazing help," he said, softly. It had taken Eames a good thirty minutes to actually leave but Arthur remembered how unhappy he had been about it. "You won't, I know," he said and neither would Arthur if the roles had been reversed.

"Thank you for that," he whispered.

He winced at that because he knew he'd take a bullet for Arthur too. He probably would have before, and he knew that now he definitely would. Arthur wasn't his after all. "You're my boy, and I'm asking you to not take a bullet for me," he whispered, but he leaned in, kissing him softly. "And of course I would have. I don't want you following in my footsteps," he said, trying to make light of it.

"Was I? I worried I was hovering," he muttered. "And then I had to go and... I almost got myself beaten down over it too," he admitted. "You're welcome. You're my friend, and my boy, of course I had to."

"I know," Arthur whispered and returned the kiss, sliding his hand over Eames' cheek. He chuckled softly, pulling back from his lips before giving him a playful look. "That's not how this works, daddy," he said, also trying to make light of it and kissing his lips softly again. "Next time, I'll push us both out of the way of any bullets." Arthur liked hearing how he was Eames' though - was his boy.

Arthur frowned a little but he knew that was just how a few extractors got. "Who were you working with at that point," he asked. He didn't remembering ever asking but then, he'd had other things on his mind. "You didn't have to do anything, Mr. Eames -- but you did." And that meant a lot to Arthur. Eames could have taken off, could have made it to the next job with time to spare but he'd stayed with Arthur for a little longer than what was probably necessary.

“You even admit my place,” he said, glad they could turn it into a bit of a joke that easily. If only because they’d had enough tension on their own without adding to it from the past. “But you’re going to argue with me? What is this,” he asked, leaning his brow against Arthur’s with a soft sigh. “Seeing you in that bed killed me,” he admitted. “I was cursing myself for days.”

He made a face, leaning back then to meet Arthur’s gaze. “MacIntosh,” he admitted, making a face. “You know how he was. Paranoid git through and through. I got through it though and then never worked with him again. Ungrateful bastard stiffed me too.” He shook his head, feeling a small flair of anger at something so old.

"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," Arthur said, his lips quirking up as he rested his brow against Eames' with a soft sigh. He was glad they could play around with it that easily and to be honest, it probably helped that he had an amazing orgasm not too long ago and still felt sated. "I lived though with only a scar to tell," he said. He didn't regret what he did and if given the option to do it all over, he'd do it again. Arthur slid a hand down to cover the spot where he still had a faint scar from that day.

He looked at him and frowned. He never liked Maclntosh and from what he heard, through the dream share grapevine, the man hadn't been seen or heard from in the last year. Perhaps that paranoia finally came and bit him in the ass. "Always hated that bastard," he said, frankly. "No one has seen or heard from him in the last year from what I've come to understand."

"Yeah and if you hadn't, then what?" But he didn't want to know what, and that showed as he leaned in to kiss Arthur. It was an easy way not to talk about it or think about it. He didn't want to do any of those things. He just wanted to think about the future, not the past where he'd nearly lost Arthur.

He nodded at that. "Heard the same. I keep thinking he's locked away pissing into jars," he admitted.

Arthur didn't exactly want to think about that either and instead, leaned into Eames' kiss. It was easier to do than to talk about the past where he had been shot. He didn't like to think too long on the fact that he could have nearly died then. He hadn't and that's what the most important part was. Arthur was alive and sitting on Eames' lap now with their lips pressed together.

He chuckled and licked his lips. "Probably is," he said and leaned in, sliding his lips over Eames' slowly. In all likelihood, he lost track of reality like so many of their kind did.

Holding Arthur close, he thought about it even as he tried not to. He would have been hurt if it had happened then. Now and he'd be just broken. It had been so long since he'd allowed himself to be this close to anyone and it could fall apart.

"So, does this mean if Cobb gets you hurt, I can shoot him?"

"So long as you wait until after the job is completed," Arthur said with an amused smile. He slid his hand along Eames' neck slowly before looking at him. "Let's lay down," he suggested and made to move from Eames' arms so they could lay down properly on the bed.

As far as he was concerned, he wasn't going to allow himself or Eames to be shot again. But as much as you can prepare for things like that, there was always going to be something you can't prepare for. As such, he wasn't going to completely rule anything out but he would take precautions.

It was probably a good idea because he was having a hard time reconciling anything that Cobb did, and what he could cause to happen to Arthur, and staying calm. It just wasn’t happening, so he moved as Arthur did so that he could stretch out. Kicking back the sheets some, he laid out his arm and offered the crook of his arm to Arthur.

“Come here, baby boy,” he murmured, reaching for the other man.

Arthur's lips curled up as he moved in closer and wrapped an arm around Eames, tangling their legs together. "Probably should have turned out the lights as well," he murmured, having half the mind to get up and do all of that but the warmth of Eames' arms and the bed was too much. If anyone else had called him anything remotely like 'baby boy', Arthur would have shot them or broken their hand but it wasn't just anyone, it was Eames and he felt a wave of affection slide through him in response to the softly spoken words.

"Or we can pull the blanket over our heads and ignore the lights," he offered as he wrapped both arms around Arthur. He definitely wasn't ready to let him go. "Lights can be ignored, you can't," he said, nuzzling and whispering the words against the top of Arthur's head.

Arthur chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to Eames' neck. "Mm, we could but I also need to plug in my phone and set my alarm so I'm not late," he murmured and lifted his head to look at Eames with a grin. "It'll take me just a minute," he said, kissing Eames' lips before reluctantly pulling himself out of Eames' embrace and moving to get off the bed.

Edited 2012-08-26 04:31 (UTC)

"Timing and alarms and schedules. Arthur, what are you doing to me," he asked with a low goan, sighing as he moved to lay back on the bed to let him get up.

"What kind of things are these," he bemoaned.

Arthur turned and gave him an amused smirk. "You know what they say about the wait making things better," he said, before slipping off the bed.

He made sure the doors were locked, the lights were off, the towel was picked up off the floor in the bathroom before he returned to bed and set his alarm for the morning. Things had to stay as normal as at all possible to everyone else. Soon enough, he crawled back into bed and slid in close to Eames.

"I know what they say about me handcuffing you to bed," he argued. "Oh wait. Only I saw that and don't think I won't," he snarked, rolling his eyes. Yet when Arthur picked up the towel, he winced.

"I would have gotten that," he said, sounding a bit nervous that Arthur had to do it.

Ships Passing: The fallout of falling in to bed - For Arthur

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And I'm assuming 'wasn't his' is 'was his'. :D Awww, these two!! <3 <3

Yes, yes. Definitely

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