[ Eames was always making a state of some sort or other, especially when it came to Arthur. He found a distinct pleasure in teasing the man, but on some level he had wanted to impress Arthur in some fashion too. He gave off the air and impression of a rake, a thing he worked rather hard to properly cultivate and keep, but he liked the finer things too, could appreciate how the modern designs looked effortless but to so much effort to make look so.
He took another sip of his scotch, raising his eyebrows at the other, but didn't rise from his chair. ]
S'rather rude, Arthur. Can't I get a bit of thanks for wanting to do you a favor?
[ He motioned to the desserts on the table - tiramisu, chocolate cake, cheesecake, drizzled strawberries. ]
[ With a heavy sigh, Arthur brought his hand up to massage at the bridge of his nose. ]
I'm sorry. I just want to make sure I have all of this straight.
[ He shifted his posture, cocking his hip and leaning forward as he dropped his hand to gesture at Eames. ]
The favor that you're doing for me is that you want to fuck me after you decided that I need to have sex? Because that doesn't sound like you're the one doing the favor here.
I didn't want to strain your social skills over much.
[ Dark eyes watched the other man over the rim of his glass, keeping
his posture deceptively casual in the chair. He reached out, taking one of
the strawberries and pressing it slowly between his own lips before biting
down. His tongue slid out, licking up the mix of juice and traces of
whiskey, a sweet burn. ]
And I didn't want to ruin my business contacts. I might need them one day.
I'm not the one who has questionable social skills.
[ He walked further into the room, noticing the glass that had been left out for him. If he was here, he may as well get a drink out of it. The one he poured for himself was generous and he downed half of it before he spoke again. ]
And yet here you are, sitting down to share a drink.
[ He raised an eyebrow at the other man, not commenting on the way he
downed his drink. Who was he to judge what a man needed for courage? He
savored his in slower sips, not wanting to admit to Arthur he had wondered
about his own motives. He could have indeed found him a more anonymous
partner - it wouldn't have been hard. But the thought of doing so hadn't
sat well with him, not quite jealousy, but some kissing cousin to it
perhaps.
It had been awhile since he'd last seen the other, perhaps that was it. An
itch that he wanted to scratch, a fantasy he wanted to indulge to hold over
another long absence, a way to sweeten this sudden peace that had come to
his life and he knew wasn't to last. Why not take advantage of it? ]
What makes you think I wasn't going to pound this back and walk out?
[ Arthur was always able to drink more on someone else's dime. It wasn't really about money so much as the principal of the thing.
He would by lying if he said he wasn't annoyed at this entire situation. He couldn't believe that Eames would presume that Arthur would even want to sleep with him. Even if he did, he thought that he deserved more than trickery to get him there, but that was beside the point, because Arthur didn't make a habit of sleeping with people he worked with. It wasn't that he never did it, but this would hardly be a casual fuck he could walk away from and go back to business as usual. Eames was difficult enough already. If Arthur slept with him, he would no doubt be unbearable and he really was a good forger. Arthur didn't want to ruin that business relationship, tenuous and annoying as it was. ]
Which is definitely the winning option, by the way.
[ Dark eyes watched the other man, turning the question over in his
mind.
It was true, Arthur could get up and walk out and leave Eames with an empty
hotel room for the night, a cold bed. It was a scenario he had contemplated
as he set things up, as he slid over cash and watched the minutes tick
down. But he had hedged his bets that the other wouldn't, that the thing
he'd felt between them on the last jobs wasn't his own imagination. It
wasn't love, of course not - he didn't think either of them was right
capable of it, not in their line of work. But he knew Arthur, worked with
him more than anyone else, and at some point he had finally admitted that
Arthur held a physical attraction he couldn't quite deny. Why he couldn't
say, but it was there and it gnawed at him, a dream that could be
tantalizing real if they but let it.
And that was the draw, wasn't it? Making these fantastic things they
dreamed real, when so much of what they did could never be, simply
impossible because the real world had its laws that no amount of
imagination and wishing could break. ]
Honest truth, I don't. You could and I wouldn't try to stop you. But I
rather hoped a good drink and something sweet would be enough to keep you.
It has been a delightful change of pace for me to be the condescending one
for once.
[ Sparring words, if only out of habit rather than meaning them. It
was a habit built up over years, impossible to shake now, almost a reflex
even.
He reached over to take the bottle, pouring himself another measure,
suddenly finding he needed the liquid courage himself. ]
Keep you here, keep you interested.
[ Keep him around for another night rather than parting ways so soon,
the days between as yet unknown and uncounted. Arthur, dare he say it, was
his own true friend in the world for all that they clashed, and for all
that the word friend was lightly used. ]
[ Arthur, usually so quick to speak his mind, couldn't quite maintain eye contact at that and started to study the decor of the room, his drink, and anything else that could be reasonably looked at for moment. ]
I wasn't aware that you wanted me interested.
[ He couldn't tell what this was--some kind of joke or a heartfelt confession or something in between. Suddenly, he felt so far out of his depth. These were the exact waters he tried to never tread. Sex could complicate a lot of things and his tumultuous relationship with Eames was certainly among those things. Arthur liked his sex as uncomplicated as possible. ]
[ The refusal to look at him did not escape Eames, the Englishman
watching Arthur with hooded eyes, his pulse picking up, recognizing an
opportunity for what it was, a turning point. His words would need to be
chosen carefully, like watching for the sticks in the brush lest you scare
away the deer. ]
I don't--I work with you more often than most people.
[ Maybe the only person he worked with more is Cobb, but that was different, wasn't it? In the grand scheme of thins, Arthur worked with a pretty big rotation of people in dreamshare, but Eames was there often enough that Arthur actually kept pretty close tabs on him. He even bothered to make sure Eames had his contact information when it changed. ]
[ He raised a brow, daring Arthur to challenge that, tossing back a
stiff swallow of his drink. Behind him the city began to glow of its own
accord, making the pool glitter with reds, yellows, and neons. It reflected
back into the room, soft waves, like measuring a pulse. ]
While you puzzle that one over...
[ Eames pushed up from his chair after slipping off his shoes and
socks, unbuttoning his shirt as he pulled open the balcony doors. He
stepped out, shrugging out of the salmon sleeves, exposing the muscular
back, graced with gallons of ink. Next went his pants and underwear, tossed
aside as casually as the shirt. He paused at the edge of the pool, city
lights silhouetting his cut form before he dove into the neon-blue waters.
]
[ Arthur watched him the whole way, eyes glued to Eames. That was certainly a distracting sight and Arthur swallowed thickly.
With a heavy sigh he refilled his glass and this time, he really did pound back the whole thing. He wasn't drunk enough for this. He was trying to explain to Eames that they were maybe sort of friends and Eames was busy removing his pants and Arthur's brain really couldn't handle that.
He sat to unlace his shoes and toe them off. They were too nice to risk getting wet and he left his socks and jacket inside with them, but when he stepped out onto the balcony, he was still in his slacks, shirt and waistcoat. ]
Social texting is more than anyone else gets.
[ The cement was cold against his bare feet and he didn't know how Eames could be comfortable naked with this breeze.]
[ Eames turned to consider Arthur, unashamed of his own nakedness
compared to Arthur's far more demure state. His toes curled at the edge of
the pool, the dips and rises of his musculature highlighted by the glare of
the city around them. ]
I suppose this makes me greedy then, but your standards.
[ Thighs flexed, launching him into the pool with a surprisingly quiet
splash. He surfaced a moment later, slicking back his hair and slowly
wading through the water back towards Arthur, highlighted blue from the
reflection of the pool. ]
[ Padding across the cold cement, Arthur stopped with his toes mere inches from the edge of the pool. ]
You're not greedy. I'm...
[ He hadn't even thought to, if he was honest. Arthur had never been a very social person even before he'd become a career criminal, but with the life he lead, he couldn't really afford friends. As it was, the closest thing he'd thought he'd had to a friend had nearly gotten them all killed for his own gain. Cobb's betrayal had really only cemented what a bad idea it was to have friends at all. ]
[ Eames stood at the edge, looking up at him. It wasn't that he didn't
understand. He did. Friends were a dangerous thing in their line of work,
the trust to easy to betray, take advantage of. It made links, lines that
their enemies could follow, or drag you down if things went sideways. There
was the logical part of him that said it was best to leave this as it was,
to not press further. But he was only a man, and even men could grow
lonely, could weary of having no one to confide in, however shallowly. He
had no illusions that he could whisper his deepest secrets to Arthur, but
he had the passing fancy they could at least share the knowledge and burden
of common experience. ]
For one, you can stop blocking my view.
[ He reached up, grabbing Arthur around his knees and hauling with the
strength of his back to topple the man over him and into the water behind.
He let go quickly and pushed off the wall, out of the way of any flailing,
lips spread in a smug, wicked grin. ]
[ Arthur wanted to be more angry, but he'd taken off his shoes for a reason. This was going to be a hefty dry cleaning bill just to prove to Eames that they were, well, maybe not quite friends, but friend-adjacent.
Once he was finished with what he would like to say was some very understandable and dignified flailing, he righted himself and swam after Eames, weighed down by his clothing.
He grabbed for Eames' wrist, trying to ignore the fact that Eames was naked. ]
You're paying for my dry cleaning.
[ It wasn't about the money or even the principal. He just wasn't sure what else to say. ]
[ Eames let himself be caught, pushing off the bottom to move Arthur
back against the wall of the pool. He didn't quite press flush, leaving a
few inches of space, enough for Arthur to escape if he wanted to. ]
I'm good for it, I'm sure.
[ He leaned his head in, scant millimeters separating them, close
enough that their breath mingled. ]
[ Arthur didn't try to move away, but he did duck his head to try to get some semblance of his own air. ]
You don't have to sleep with me to keep me around.
[ In fact Arthur would really prefer if he didn't. He didn't need more complications in his professional life. Eames, for all their bickering, was one of the simpler things there. Arthur trusted him to be steady and do his job well. He trusted Eames to keep him alive, something even Dom Cobb had failed to really live up to. ]
[ Had Eames been a lesser man, he would have pressed it further. He
would have crushed his body against Arthur's, ravaged his mouth, made him
want it. But Eames wasn't a lesser man, for all he could play one just
fine. ]
So you are.
[ He brushed his lips across Arthur's temple, fingers smoothing the
wet strands of hair tenderly before he pushed away from him, turning to
near float on his back in the water. Who could say how much of both those
gestures had been calculated? He wasn't sure himself, though he knew it
wasn't 100%. To much filled the space of those inches between them for him
to play his old tricks, to separate himself neatly and coldly like taking
off one of his dream forms. ]
Since you're wet you might as well enjoy the pool while we have it. I paid
for the night.
[ The gestures were meaningless. That was one thing Arthur was sure of because he had to be and because this was Eames. He didn't react until Eames was already floating away, turning his eyes back on the man with a slightly strained smile. ]
You could have asked me to come without pretense. I would have.
[ He wanted to be a little insulted that Eames thought it was necessary, but mostly it just made him curious.
Trying to banish those thoughts for later, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and then his shirt. Eventually everything he was wearing was a sopping pile on the side of the pool, safe for the boxer-briefs that he kept on, not that those left much to the imagination when they were this wet. ]
One likes to have assurances, darling. I can never be to sure with you.
[ A true enough fact. It was easy to predict almost everyone else
around him, pick off their ticks, their habits, break down their
physiological reactions and relationships. Arthur was harder, as was almost
everyone in their line of work. They had all learned to hide things so well
to keep themselves from being invaded when they were linked so intimately
through the dreams, leaned how to lock away their secrets and bury them
deep.
Eames glided through the water back to Arthur, floating in a tight circle
around him, fingers reaching out to glide across the hem of his underwear.
]
[ Arthur swatted at the hands in the water, but there was a small smile creeping onto his face. Eames was charming, Arthur could give him that, at least. Bastard. Arthur had every right to be mad, but he had a hard time maintaining it when Eames was swimming around him, naked and prodding. ]
Someone has to maintain some sense of modesty in the face of your ego.
[ And then, because he could, he splashed at Eames. ]
[ Arthur let out a frustrated sound, but it was undermined by his obvious attempt to not laugh as he grabbed at Eames' wrists. This really wasn't fair. Eames was naked and there wasn't really a safe place to grab. ]
Who says I want to be remembered for swimming naked with men?
Do you wish to be remembered instead as the man to frightened to take off
his pants?
[ He let Arthur catch him, chuckling low in his throat, slipping
closer to him, tangling their legs. His free hand darted down, plucking at
the elastic again, brushing over the smooth belly. ]
[ With a hard flail, Arthur only managed to tip himself into the water against Eames' weight. He barely managed a breath before his head went under and then resurfaced. ]
Eames!
[ There was still a measure of laughter in his voice as he shoved at Eames. ]
[ He chuckled, unafraid to let the sound loose. Arms slipped around
Arthur's waist, pressing up behind him, solid muscle to svelte frame. He
bent his head, kissing his shoulder. ]
[ Arthur went stiff in his arms, but there was an almost imperceptible change after a moment, not quite relaxing, but almost as if he was fighting the urge to. He didn't try to shove Eames off. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to, much as he lamented the idea of this complication. ]
Why must I always be trying to accomplish something?
[ Fingers stroked feather light across his arms, dipped beneath the
water to run across his sides, trace the fine lines of his stomach to cup
his hips, hold him close without trapping him. ]
[ But Arthur couldn't help closing his eyes. He stayed where he was, Eames' hands on him like an anchor, whether Eames realized it or not. Eames was setting them on a dangerous path with those touches and Arthur wasn't sure that he had it in him to resist. ]
[ A dangerous path, one worth exploring. One they had entertained more
than once, caught up in the rush of a job, that aching thing called
loneliness. He bent his head, plush lips stroking a path over Arthur's
shoulder, up the swan like length of his neck, nearly as pale. Arthur made
for a beautiful man, in Eame's estimation, the sort the master's of old
would have fought each for the right to have him be their muse. ]
So tell me what you think I'm after then. You always tell me you know me so
well.
[ Slowly, Arthur relaxed against Eames' body. Eames had a real knack for making Arthur forget himself and this close, it was easy to drown a little in that. Arthur's hand slipped back to grip Eames' hip. ]
You already told me that you want me to stay.
[ Something that was more tempting to indulge in by the minute, but the last thing Arthur wanted to do was lie to Eames. He wasn't going to promise something he couldn't deliver. ]
[ Honest words, but words he could afford to be honest with. Jobs were
jobs. They were safe to speak about, business and nothing more. But beneath
the simple words lay another truth - that he would be leaving. Going
somewhere, and who knew how far away for how long. Nothing in their
relationship said either of them ever had to tell where they were going,
only some strange, unspoken arrangement letting them know when they shared
a city. ]
[ He was already tipping his head to the side, giving Eames easier access to his neck. This was stupid. It was monumentally stupid, but Arthur couldn't completely deny that he wanted it anyway. ]
[ Plush lips pressed to his ear, teeth squeezing tender flesh to
pinkness. He moved behind it to suck, pulling with his lips, the tip of his
tongue tracing wild patterns across his skin. ]
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He took another sip of his scotch, raising his eyebrows at the other, but didn't rise from his chair. ]
S'rather rude, Arthur. Can't I get a bit of thanks for wanting to do you a favor?
[ He motioned to the desserts on the table - tiramisu, chocolate cake, cheesecake, drizzled strawberries. ]
Least have something to eat.
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I'm sorry. I just want to make sure I have all of this straight.
[ He shifted his posture, cocking his hip and leaning forward as he dropped his hand to gesture at Eames. ]
The favor that you're doing for me is that you want to fuck me after you decided that I need to have sex? Because that doesn't sound like you're the one doing the favor here.
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I didn't want to strain your social skills over much.
[ Dark eyes watched the other man over the rim of his glass, keeping his posture deceptively casual in the chair. He reached out, taking one of the strawberries and pressing it slowly between his own lips before biting down. His tongue slid out, licking up the mix of juice and traces of whiskey, a sweet burn. ]
And I didn't want to ruin my business contacts. I might need them one day.
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[ He walked further into the room, noticing the glass that had been left out for him. If he was here, he may as well get a drink out of it. The one he poured for himself was generous and he downed half of it before he spoke again. ]
Your logic doesn't even pan out here.
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And yet here you are, sitting down to share a drink.
[ He raised an eyebrow at the other man, not commenting on the way he downed his drink. Who was he to judge what a man needed for courage? He savored his in slower sips, not wanting to admit to Arthur he had wondered about his own motives. He could have indeed found him a more anonymous partner - it wouldn't have been hard. But the thought of doing so hadn't sat well with him, not quite jealousy, but some kissing cousin to it perhaps.
It had been awhile since he'd last seen the other, perhaps that was it. An itch that he wanted to scratch, a fantasy he wanted to indulge to hold over another long absence, a way to sweeten this sudden peace that had come to his life and he knew wasn't to last. Why not take advantage of it? ]
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[ Arthur was always able to drink more on someone else's dime. It wasn't really about money so much as the principal of the thing.
He would by lying if he said he wasn't annoyed at this entire situation. He couldn't believe that Eames would presume that Arthur would even want to sleep with him. Even if he did, he thought that he deserved more than trickery to get him there, but that was beside the point, because Arthur didn't make a habit of sleeping with people he worked with. It wasn't that he never did it, but this would hardly be a casual fuck he could walk away from and go back to business as usual. Eames was difficult enough already. If Arthur slept with him, he would no doubt be unbearable and he really was a good forger. Arthur didn't want to ruin that business relationship, tenuous and annoying as it was. ]
Which is definitely the winning option, by the way.
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[ Dark eyes watched the other man, turning the question over in his mind.
It was true, Arthur could get up and walk out and leave Eames with an empty hotel room for the night, a cold bed. It was a scenario he had contemplated as he set things up, as he slid over cash and watched the minutes tick down. But he had hedged his bets that the other wouldn't, that the thing he'd felt between them on the last jobs wasn't his own imagination. It wasn't love, of course not - he didn't think either of them was right capable of it, not in their line of work. But he knew Arthur, worked with him more than anyone else, and at some point he had finally admitted that Arthur held a physical attraction he couldn't quite deny. Why he couldn't say, but it was there and it gnawed at him, a dream that could be tantalizing real if they but let it.
And that was the draw, wasn't it? Making these fantastic things they dreamed real, when so much of what they did could never be, simply impossible because the real world had its laws that no amount of imagination and wishing could break. ]
Honest truth, I don't. You could and I wouldn't try to stop you. But I rather hoped a good drink and something sweet would be enough to keep you.
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You hoped that you could condescendingly do the the favor of having sex with me because I need it so desperately?
[ Did he sound unimpressed enough? Was there enough lack of being impressed in the world for the situation Arthur was facing here?
Eames was attractive and very much Arthur's type, but he was still Eames and there were so many reasons why that really needed to remain as it was. ]
And what do you mean keep me?
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It has been a delightful change of pace for me to be the condescending one for once.
[ Sparring words, if only out of habit rather than meaning them. It was a habit built up over years, impossible to shake now, almost a reflex even.
He reached over to take the bottle, pouring himself another measure, suddenly finding he needed the liquid courage himself. ]
Keep you here, keep you interested.
[ Keep him around for another night rather than parting ways so soon, the days between as yet unknown and uncounted. Arthur, dare he say it, was his own true friend in the world for all that they clashed, and for all that the word friend was lightly used. ]
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I wasn't aware that you wanted me interested.
[ He couldn't tell what this was--some kind of joke or a heartfelt confession or something in between. Suddenly, he felt so far out of his depth. These were the exact waters he tried to never tread. Sex could complicate a lot of things and his tumultuous relationship with Eames was certainly among those things. Arthur liked his sex as uncomplicated as possible. ]
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[ The refusal to look at him did not escape Eames, the Englishman watching Arthur with hooded eyes, his pulse picking up, recognizing an opportunity for what it was, a turning point. His words would need to be chosen carefully, like watching for the sticks in the brush lest you scare away the deer. ]
You never stick around long enough to notice.
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[ Maybe the only person he worked with more is Cobb, but that was different, wasn't it? In the grand scheme of thins, Arthur worked with a pretty big rotation of people in dreamshare, but Eames was there often enough that Arthur actually kept pretty close tabs on him. He even bothered to make sure Eames had his contact information when it changed. ]
You do know that, right? I was texting you.
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Texting me isn't sticking around me.
[ He raised a brow, daring Arthur to challenge that, tossing back a stiff swallow of his drink. Behind him the city began to glow of its own accord, making the pool glitter with reds, yellows, and neons. It reflected back into the room, soft waves, like measuring a pulse. ]
While you puzzle that one over...
[ Eames pushed up from his chair after slipping off his shoes and socks, unbuttoning his shirt as he pulled open the balcony doors. He stepped out, shrugging out of the salmon sleeves, exposing the muscular back, graced with gallons of ink. Next went his pants and underwear, tossed aside as casually as the shirt. He paused at the edge of the pool, city lights silhouetting his cut form before he dove into the neon-blue waters. ]
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With a heavy sigh he refilled his glass and this time, he really did pound back the whole thing. He wasn't drunk enough for this. He was trying to explain to Eames that they were maybe sort of friends and Eames was busy removing his pants and Arthur's brain really couldn't handle that.
He sat to unlace his shoes and toe them off. They were too nice to risk getting wet and he left his socks and jacket inside with them, but when he stepped out onto the balcony, he was still in his slacks, shirt and waistcoat. ]
Social texting is more than anyone else gets.
[ The cement was cold against his bare feet and he didn't know how Eames could be comfortable naked with this breeze.]
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[ Eames turned to consider Arthur, unashamed of his own nakedness compared to Arthur's far more demure state. His toes curled at the edge of the pool, the dips and rises of his musculature highlighted by the glare of the city around them. ]
I suppose this makes me greedy then, but your standards.
[ Thighs flexed, launching him into the pool with a surprisingly quiet splash. He surfaced a moment later, slicking back his hair and slowly wading through the water back towards Arthur, highlighted blue from the reflection of the pool. ]
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You're not greedy. I'm...
[ He hadn't even thought to, if he was honest. Arthur had never been a very social person even before he'd become a career criminal, but with the life he lead, he couldn't really afford friends. As it was, the closest thing he'd thought he'd had to a friend had nearly gotten them all killed for his own gain. Cobb's betrayal had really only cemented what a bad idea it was to have friends at all. ]
I don't know what else I can offer you.
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[ Eames stood at the edge, looking up at him. It wasn't that he didn't understand. He did. Friends were a dangerous thing in their line of work, the trust to easy to betray, take advantage of. It made links, lines that their enemies could follow, or drag you down if things went sideways. There was the logical part of him that said it was best to leave this as it was, to not press further. But he was only a man, and even men could grow lonely, could weary of having no one to confide in, however shallowly. He had no illusions that he could whisper his deepest secrets to Arthur, but he had the passing fancy they could at least share the knowledge and burden of common experience. ]
For one, you can stop blocking my view.
[ He reached up, grabbing Arthur around his knees and hauling with the strength of his back to topple the man over him and into the water behind. He let go quickly and pushed off the wall, out of the way of any flailing, lips spread in a smug, wicked grin. ]
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Once he was finished with what he would like to say was some very understandable and dignified flailing, he righted himself and swam after Eames, weighed down by his clothing.
He grabbed for Eames' wrist, trying to ignore the fact that Eames was naked. ]
You're paying for my dry cleaning.
[ It wasn't about the money or even the principal. He just wasn't sure what else to say. ]
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[ Eames let himself be caught, pushing off the bottom to move Arthur back against the wall of the pool. He didn't quite press flush, leaving a few inches of space, enough for Arthur to escape if he wanted to. ]
I'm good for it, I'm sure.
[ He leaned his head in, scant millimeters separating them, close enough that their breath mingled. ]
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You don't have to sleep with me to keep me around.
[ In fact Arthur would really prefer if he didn't. He didn't need more complications in his professional life. Eames, for all their bickering, was one of the simpler things there. Arthur trusted him to be steady and do his job well. He trusted Eames to keep him alive, something even Dom Cobb had failed to really live up to. ]
I'm here.
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[ Had Eames been a lesser man, he would have pressed it further. He would have crushed his body against Arthur's, ravaged his mouth, made him want it. But Eames wasn't a lesser man, for all he could play one just fine. ]
So you are.
[ He brushed his lips across Arthur's temple, fingers smoothing the wet strands of hair tenderly before he pushed away from him, turning to near float on his back in the water. Who could say how much of both those gestures had been calculated? He wasn't sure himself, though he knew it wasn't 100%. To much filled the space of those inches between them for him to play his old tricks, to separate himself neatly and coldly like taking off one of his dream forms. ]
Since you're wet you might as well enjoy the pool while we have it. I paid for the night.
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You could have asked me to come without pretense. I would have.
[ He wanted to be a little insulted that Eames thought it was necessary, but mostly it just made him curious.
Trying to banish those thoughts for later, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and then his shirt. Eventually everything he was wearing was a sopping pile on the side of the pool, safe for the boxer-briefs that he kept on, not that those left much to the imagination when they were this wet. ]
no subject
One likes to have assurances, darling. I can never be to sure with you.
[ A true enough fact. It was easy to predict almost everyone else around him, pick off their ticks, their habits, break down their physiological reactions and relationships. Arthur was harder, as was almost everyone in their line of work. They had all learned to hide things so well to keep themselves from being invaded when they were linked so intimately through the dreams, leaned how to lock away their secrets and bury them deep.
Eames glided through the water back to Arthur, floating in a tight circle around him, fingers reaching out to glide across the hem of his underwear. ]
No need to be shy, darling.
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Someone has to maintain some sense of modesty in the face of your ego.
[ And then, because he could, he splashed at Eames. ]
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[ Eyes squeezed shut on instinct, the Brit snorting and sloshing a way at water at the other man. ]
Modesty never saw men into the annals of history!
[ He shook his head, darting back in to snap the band of Arthur's underwear beneath the surface. ]
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Who says I want to be remembered for swimming naked with men?
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Do you wish to be remembered instead as the man to frightened to take off his pants?
[ He let Arthur catch him, chuckling low in his throat, slipping closer to him, tangling their legs. His free hand darted down, plucking at the elastic again, brushing over the smooth belly. ]
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Eames!
[ There was still a measure of laughter in his voice as he shoved at Eames. ]
Why are you trying to get me naked?
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Wouldn't you be insulted if I wasn't trying?
[ He began circling him again, glancing his fingers across his back and stomach, thighs bumping against him as he treaded the water. ]
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[ He tried to grab at Eames again, this time more careful of his balance. There was barely contained laughter in his voice. ]
Get back here, Eames.
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[ He chuckled, unafraid to let the sound loose. Arms slipped around Arthur's waist, pressing up behind him, solid muscle to svelte frame. He bent his head, kissing his shoulder. ]
You called?
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What are you trying to accomplish here?
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Why must I always be trying to accomplish something?
[ Fingers stroked feather light across his arms, dipped beneath the water to run across his sides, trace the fine lines of his stomach to cup his hips, hold him close without trapping him. ]
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[ But Arthur couldn't help closing his eyes. He stayed where he was, Eames' hands on him like an anchor, whether Eames realized it or not. Eames was setting them on a dangerous path with those touches and Arthur wasn't sure that he had it in him to resist. ]
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[ A dangerous path, one worth exploring. One they had entertained more than once, caught up in the rush of a job, that aching thing called loneliness. He bent his head, plush lips stroking a path over Arthur's shoulder, up the swan like length of his neck, nearly as pale. Arthur made for a beautiful man, in Eame's estimation, the sort the master's of old would have fought each for the right to have him be their muse. ]
So tell me what you think I'm after then. You always tell me you know me so well.
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You already told me that you want me to stay.
[ Something that was more tempting to indulge in by the minute, but the last thing Arthur wanted to do was lie to Eames. He wasn't going to promise something he couldn't deliver. ]
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I have another job lined up.
[ Honest words, but words he could afford to be honest with. Jobs were jobs. They were safe to speak about, business and nothing more. But beneath the simple words lay another truth - that he would be leaving. Going somewhere, and who knew how far away for how long. Nothing in their relationship said either of them ever had to tell where they were going, only some strange, unspoken arrangement letting them know when they shared a city. ]
My flight's tomorrow evening.
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[ He was already tipping his head to the side, giving Eames easier access to his neck. This was stupid. It was monumentally stupid, but Arthur couldn't completely deny that he wanted it anyway. ]
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Do you want me to say it?
[ Plush lips pressed to his ear, teeth squeezing tender flesh to pinkness. He moved behind it to suck, pulling with his lips, the tip of his tongue tracing wild patterns across his skin. ]
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In detail.