artfulforger | Welcome home - For bamf-pointman

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Welcome home - For bamf-pointman - Ships Passing

Australia seemed to go on forever with surveillance and research and ensuring that he not only had every needed mannerism down to a tee but that Eames had made enough notes that if Arthur had any questions, he could answer them. He had everything they needed and he was ready to go home. Ready to get back to a job that excited him as much as he feared just where it was going. Ready to get back to a pointman who was really turning his world upside down, and he was realizing how much he loved it.

Waiting until he was on his last layover and he was sure that the flights would be on time, he sent Arthur a message just before boarding his flight.

1016 degaulle #2316 timothy

Eames had shipped ahead everything else he needed, not that it had been much, so as he came down the walk to the terminal, all he had was a single rolling carry on. Dressed in fawn colored slacks and a dark burgundy coat over a paisley shirt, he looked like a tourist with a heavy shadow of hair growth along his jaws and a bright light in his eyes as he looked around for the man that should be waiting for him.

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He watched as the two bowls were filled up and felt his stomach growl again. "I do eat," he said, giving Eames a little amused look. "But, I won't deny that work consumes me," he admitted with a little shrug.

He moved over to the fridge and opened it up. "Want anything to drink," he asked, taking out a bottle of water for himself. Eames knew him though, knew him better than anyone and knew just what he was like.

"Your stomach is saying otherwise," he pointed out. "So keep making that argument, Boy," he growled, though there was no heat to his words. Just affection for the other man.

"Water's fine. Thanks. And no worries, love. I'll watch over you and make sure you don't work too hard."

"My stomach is a traitor," he said, more amused than anything. Not to mention hungry. Arthur bit on his lip when Eames called him 'boy' and allowed himself a little hum. He didn't hear any heat behind his words. By now, he knew the difference between heated exchanges between the two of them and was starting to become more in-tune with the affectionate tones too. Arthur remembered having a salad sitting on his desk but what happened after that, he wasn't aware -- no, that wasn't true. He was asked over to test something out with Yusuf.

"Will you," he asked, taking out the second bottle of water before shutting the fridge and walking over to Eames again with a little smile. "Make sure I remember to get in a meal, you mean?" Arthur wasn't upset -- it had been a long time since anyone took notice of how he worked and how buried he could get in his job. For that matter, it had been a long time since anyone cared to notice. Not that he gave them much of a reason to.

“It sides with me,” he said with a grin. “I call that a friend. Least for me,” he said, smirking as he took the skillet to the sink, rinsing it out well. Later he would wash it out better but for now nothing would bake on. Arthur as his boy meant a lot, not just for sex. For him that was the difference, and he worried Arthur wouldn’t like it. It was one thing being submissive sexually, another being seen as someone’s submissive more than just when you were about to have sex.

He nodded, reaching out to stroke his thumb over Arthur’s cheek. “You’re mine to take care of now,” he murmured softly. “And I plan to do so. Not just sexually.” He paused, satring into Arthur’s eyes. “I hope that’s okay, because it’s how I feel about you. You’re mine and I’m going to take care of you.”

"Traitor," Arthur muttered with a grin and sat down the two bottles of water onto the counter. He was glad to see Eames rinsing out the pan so the remnants of the curry didn't cake on and become harder to wash off. The moments of silence as he did so allowed Arthur a moment to think. He had taken care of himself for as long as he could remember, more or less, and to be frank, he couldn't remember a time that anyone felt like they wanted to take care of him, let alone a time when he wanted anyone to care enough to do so. Though...there had been Mal... she always did tend to make sure he didn't work himself to an even earlier death and only because she was even more stubborn than himself.

Arthur leaned into Eames' touch and lifted his gaze to really look at him, as though making sure Eames was completely serious. He could see the conviction in his gaze and not once did he deny being Eames', just as Eames was his. "You know I'm not the easiest person to get along with at times," he said with a hint of a smile. But they both knew that and it wasn't as though Eames was exactly a peach either but they worked together.

Eames too had been on his own for longer than he could remember. Certainly when he was a small child his mother had cared for him but since he’d been old enough to care for things, since she had passed, he had been there for himself and he was the only one that had been there for him.

Now though, he didn’t feel that way. If he’d needed anything while he was in Australia, he’d known all he had to do was call, and Arthur would have seen to fixing things. He had come to realize he had someone to be there for him.

Leaning in to kiss Arthur softly, nibbling at his bottom lip softly. “You’re a horrible pain to get along with,” he corrected softly. “Who else is better suited to deal with you than me,” he asked, as always his ego showing through in those small jokes and soft teasing comments.

While on the one hand Arthur knew he could have always called on on him if the need arose, he had often solved many of his problems on his own. Knowing Eames was there, actively wanting to be there, take care of him and help him, he was slowly realizing he didn't have to do it alone -- didn't have to be alone and do it all himself. It would take some time to truly get used to it, it didn't happen over night but he knew that Eames was probably more than aware of that.

Arthur hummed at the nibbling to his bottom lip and licked along it slowly with his tongue. Despite the ego, despite the jokes, Arthur laughed and gave him a smile. "No one else," he said with a little smirk. "Though there are those who probably wish," he couldn't help but tease him as he wrapped both arms around his waist.

"It's going to take a little time to get used to that," he admitted, looking at him.

There was a world of difference between knowing you could handle it all on your own, and knowing you didn't have to. That was the place where Eames was getting to. Yes, he could handle things on his own, and would. He had. But now he didn't have to. Not like it had been. He could rely on Arthur. Not just because he knew he could do it, but because he thought maybe Arthur wanted to, just as much as he did.

"They can keep wishing. I will fight to defend what is mine," he said, doing his best to sound like a movie knight.

He leaned in, kissing Arthur's brow. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."

"My hero," he drawled out, his smile never fading.

If they continued to do things like this (and they more than likely would, let's be honest), Arthur could see himself becoming more and more used to the idea and the fact that Eames was here to stay for as long as they both wanted this. Wanted them. He trusted Eames, there was absolutely no question about it but he would learn, would realize that he didn't have to do things on his own - or handle everyone or everything on his own.

"You better not be," he said, looking at him before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. "Come on, let's eat. I'm starving."

He laughed, nudging Arthur lightly. “Always your hero, and the biggest pain in your arse.” Both were true, and he knew that it would stay that way. Whatever else they might share, that second part wouldn’t change. Eames was a certain kind of man and that wouldn’t change. He would always be the man he was, and that would stay the same even if he was caring for Arthur in every way he could.

Savoring that kiss, he grabbed his bowl and a bottle of water. “All yours,” he said, meaning it intensely. Truly and wholly and he wouldn’t hide that from him.

"Never change," Arthur said, truly meaning it. Eames was the biggest pain in his ass but he was also one of the more intelligent ones so he's met. If there was one thing for sure it was that neither of them had plans of fully changing who they were as people and they were okay with that. They knew the kind of man the other was and that was okay. More than okay. They worked together in a way that worked for them. They were compatible among their similarities and differences.

Arthur grabbed the other bowl and water. "All mine," he agreed, giving him a smile as they made their way over to the couch.

"Ha. You'd be damned lucky to get me to change with force,' he said, following in Arthur's wake and settling in beside him without leaning against him.

He didn't eat right away though, glancing at Arthur. "No matter what happens, with this job and all, this isn't because of that," he said in a low voice "I mean, we let it happen because of this, but I wanted it. Even before then," he admitted, knowing that sounded bad given how long it had been since they'd talked.

"I think it's part of why I stayed away. After how things were and seeing you again... Not the best of ideas then."

Arthur chuckled and ducked his head a little. "I wouldn't want you to," he admitted, setting his bottle of water aside and holding his bowl close.

He glanced over at him as he started to talk and nodded his head. "I know." And he did. Arthur wanted it too and had for a long time. Since those near misses in the hotel room or if he really thought about it, since they first met. "I wanted it too," he admitted, softly.

To think, if he hadn't texted Eames that night, pissed out of his mind, they wouldn't be here now. Wouldn't have come as far as they had. "We're here now -- and that's what matters."

"Yep, that's what matters," he agreed.

He fell silent for a few, taking bites as he considered the night, the weekend, the trip he had been on. As he thought about life and how much was changing. In his life. Personally and professionally.

"At least until Cobb gets us killed."

Arthur tilted his head. "We're going to do everything we can to not let that happen," he said, giving him a look. He was going to do everything he could to make sure they were prepared for anything and everything. He settled into his spot and took a few bites of the curry.

"Don't think I don't believe that," he said, voice hard and determined. "That doesn't mean I don't think the man isn't homicidal," he admitted. "Or suicidal. Or both. He might be both," he admitted.

The settled position didn't last too long and within minutes, Arthur was shifting trying to find a position that didn't make his ass burn. "I don't think you don't believe it," he said, shifting onto his knees so the pressure was off of his ass for the most part. Arthur took another bite of his food before nodding his head in agreement. "A bit of both, is my opinion. More on the latter than the former, perhaps."

It was wrong. Eames knew that. Yet he smirked, shifting a bit closer so that Arthur could, if he so chose, lean against him to take the weight off his ass.

"We'll work things out. We have alone, we definitely will together. Also, I'm amused your ass hurts."

Arthur nodded and took another bite of his food as he moved in a little closer to the forger and leaned against him a little.

"You would be, you ass," Arthur muttered with a little smile. He wasn't upset by it though, if he were completely honest. He had enjoyed it and feeling it wasn't the worst feeling in the world. Yeah, it hurt but he'd been shot before, he'd broken bones before -- he'd had much worse wounds than his ass being red.

He took that weight though, letting Arthur use him even as he teased him. He knew that was the difference with them, what made things different. They could tease and care in the same breath.

"So... When do we call it end game," he asked softly. "I'd like it to be before we get dumped into limbo if things go pear shaped."

He stirred his food as he considered Eames' softly spoken question. "I'd say, right after things go to hell," he said, looking at him, his weight resting against Eames. It wasn't a question of 'if' but rather 'when'. There was so much riding on this job and they were taking numerous chances that it was really, only a matter of time that hell broke loose. But, they would be ready for just about anything. Arthur was a cynical and paranoid bastard but it worked in his favor because he was prepared for just about anything.

Eames had done a lot of jobs, some of them riskier than others. Nothing on this level though. It meant he wasn't sure just how to imagine them getting out of it though. Not once they were in the dream.

"Do you know how to put in a backdoor," he asked. "An early kick we could cause to happen if we need to get out? The other option is a suicide pact,' he pointed out. "If my level collapses, you kill yours too."

"Logically speaking, we should still be able to shoot each other out of a dream. If that doesn't work, putting in backdoors and early, simultaneous kicks would be the best option," he agreed with a nod of his head.

He sat down his bowl and picked up the water bottle, opened it then took a long drink from it. "We'll can talk about it more tomorrow though." Tonight was theirs and for once, Arthur didn't really want to think about work. Or at least, no more than he already had all day.

"If we're on the same level. Unless you want to come into your level and shoot me first and then yourself," he pointed out, nose wrinkling. "Not something I like to think about," he admitted, thinking about how that could be, for both of them. "But we'll figure it out. I know you want to help Cobb get back to his kids but..."

He shook his head. He wasn't dropping into limbo over this, or losing Arthur to that.

"Sure. Tomorrow," he said with a nod. "Or later this week. I know. This is our weekend." It was likely to be the last extended time they had together until it was over, after all.

Arthur nodded. That was certainly true enough. He didn't like the thought so much himself but push come to shove, he would do what he could to get his team, and their tourists, out alive and intact. "We'll figure it out," he agreed, shifting again before picking up his bowl and taking another bite.

"Probably the last extended time that we'll have together for a while," he voiced the same thought they were both thinking about. For him, he wanted to take advantage of this time they could.

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/is running with the idea that they didn't know about Yusuf and Dom's plan yet...grr on them!

Sounds good to me :D

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