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[a catchall for june; prompts will be added to the top post as I write them!]

1/EARLY TO MID JUNE/HILLINGDON

Arthur spends most of his time with the door closed now, but quite often one can find him in the kitchen staring down the coffee maker as he waits for it to finish brewing. He's drinking more and more of it these days, which is fucking up his sleep, which just necessitates more coffee so he can sit and worry endlessly about all the shit that's going on right now. He's almost wearing a groove in the floor where the shortest distance from his makeshift office to the kitchen is, and while he'll answer the door if knocked, one may have better luck stopping him in the hallway or the aforementioned kitchen while he has a fresh mug in his hands.

2/JUNE 15/FOR EAMES/

Arthur's even groggier than usual when he wakes up the night after the rave. He didn't go, of course, but it feels like he hasn't had enough sleep. The reason why becomes clear when he turns his head, sees another person in his bed, and remembers the scene several hours ago when "Kathryn" showed up at his door and managed to find her way into Arthur's bed without much input from Arthur himself. It's not that he minds, but the additional fogginess of the morning is not welcome, and it takes a few extra minutes of laying in bed frowning before he finally concedes and gets out of bed in search of coffee. It's late for him but he has nothing he absolutely has to get done today so he takes his time, grabbing some coffee and getting his laptop out to read the news while he waits for Eames to rise out of bed.

3/EARLY JUNE/FOR JEAN-CLAUDE

It only took a little bit of back-and-forth to get this meeting set up. Once it became clear that Hillingdon was going to try to hold Richmond going forward he wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page, and that meant talking to Islington to make sure they'll show up if Hillingdon needs help maintaining control.

Their meeting place is a rented office space just outside of Islington territory. Arthur has a few of these that he rents by the week or by the month when he needs to meet with clients for his day job or for things like this, when Hillingdon House wouldn't be appropriate.

The days are getting longer, so Arthur suggests something well into the evening. He knows Jean-Claude probably has his fair share of Daylight jewellery, but he figures it's only polite, and the street he looks out on is bustling with activity as people head out to the bars or come back from dinner. It's a nice background noise as he sits there half an hour ahead of time reviewing some notes he's made.

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Eames doesn't wake up for another few hours, and he's not feeling so hot about that decision when he does. Usually Eames is a morning person, someone who's awake when he wakes up, but right now he feels awful and he groans and presses his face into the pillow in protest of this whole being awake situation. It doesn't smell like his pillow though, and Eames lifts his head and squints at the room until he realises where he is. (And how he appears to be using the entirety of the covers.)

The least surprising thing so far is when he gets out of bed and realises he's naked, though the fact that his clothes from last night seem to be everywhere would be amusing if Eames' head wasn't throbbing and his tongue didn't feel like fat sandpaper, and he gathers them all onto a chair with a tired sigh and a sweep of his hand. Helping himself to one of Arthur's baggier t-shirts in the meantime while he tries to get his head on right.

What feels like about 20 years later, Eames finally comes out of the bedroom, footsteps slow and lazy and he calls (well, croaks) Arthur's name tiredly with a follow-up, "you still home?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

Arthur's been out to Hillingdon and back this morning, after it seemed like Eames wasn't going to move, but he's back now and doing some work from home to kill the time. When he hears Eames stirring he gets up and pours a mug of coffee right away, walking into the hall to meet him halfway.

"Coffee?"

He makes a face like that's the best thing he's ever heard and heaves a sigh that's like all the tension rolling off him, and he nods, reaching to take the mug with one hand and put the other on Arthur's waist.

"Thank you."

"Mm," Arthur says, realizing that he's not moving right now. He doesn't have a huge problem with that. Even hungover Eames looks good like this and Arthur's been waiting to talk to him all day.

"Not feeling so great?"

"I don't even remember the last time I had a hangover." Eames frowns down at the mug in his hand and slips his fingers under Arthur's waistband to drag him to the couch so they can sit, because standing is horrible and he doesn't want to do it anymore.

"How embarrassing was I last night?" He's pretty sure the answer is 'very'.

Arthur goes with him, settling down on the couch with a sigh and stretching out his arm along the back of the cushions behind Eames. "Oh, I mean, after the song and dance you pretty much just passed out, so..."

Eames tucks easily against Arthur's side, lazily resting his head on Arthur's shoulder and closing his eyes with an amused snort. "Was it good though?"

Arthur smiles and lets his arm settle around Eames' shoulders. "Well, Kathryn has an excellent singing voice," he says, sighing again. This is nice.

"Now I know you're fucking with me," he says with a tired laugh, opening his eyes long enough to take a sip of coffee and settling back after. A slow morning is what he's been needing for a while, and with the dull ache in his head it's even better, "Kathryn sings like a cat that's been stepped on."

Arthur laughs and noses affectionately at Eames' hair. He has a lot of questions about the party last night but he doesn't want to barrage Eames with them so he's quiet for a little while. Then he decides he should ask but he'll start slow.

"Do you even remember leaving the party last night?"

"I remember thinking about food." So that's a no.

It'd probably come back to him if he really thought about it, but Eames isn't interested in that right now. This is warm and cosy and Arthur smells nice, and Eames turns himself a little to press himself tighter to Arthur's side with a soft sigh. "I must've come here for sex, but obviously that didn't happen."

"No," he says, "I'm not really into that."

He rubs Eames' arm soothingly, because that's what you do with your friends when they're in pain, right.

"Was it really out of control?"

Eames hums softly, pleased with this attention, and lifts his head to nose tiredly at Arthur's jaw.

"Drunk kids and mild property damage mostly."

"What does 'mild' mean?" Arthur asks, with a sigh like he dislikes the answer regardless of what it turns out to be.

"I didn't see anything worse than some graffiti and smashed windows," he says tiredly, knowing it's not a great answer but it's far from being as bad as it could be. "Nothing that can't be fixed inside of a business week."

That wins another sigh as Arthur sinks a little further into the couch, turning to nose at Eames' hair again as he suppresses the urge to ask more questions. He's not sure why he seems to be the only one who can see how badly all of this can go, but part of him has just given up. He has no control over the situation. He can't fix anything now.

He's not the only one, but Eames doesn't want to think about that right now when it's taking up every other fucking minute of his life. Eames frowns, sighing in response, and he moves to sit side-on in Arthur's lap. Because how can he think about all of that with someone who looks like Kathryn sitting on him.

"Can we think about something else?" Eames frowns up at Arthur, "this is nice." And he really, really needs that.

Arthur has to take a moment, wrapping both arms loosely around Eames' waist. He finally concedes and nods, though it's clear that he's still stressing out about it.

"Yeah, sure," he says.

Eames settles with his head on Arthur's chest, but at this point he knows Arthur too well and sighs after leaving it for a minute or two.

"You're still thinking about it."

"Can you blame me?" Arthur asks, sounding tired. He doesn't want to be fixating on this stuff but he can't really help it, because his future's kind of up in the air right now. In all likelihood things will be fine, but they could also go terribly and that's what keeps him worrying.

"I can't," Eames says, pulling back to look up at Arthur and put his (mostly) finished coffee aside, "I can blame you for not paying enough attention to the beautiful woman sitting in your lap though."

Arthur grins tiredly and nods. "Yeah, that's fair," he says, bringing his hand up to brush Eames' hair away from his face. He is quite beautiful right now and Arthur appreciates that but he's stressed and Eames is hungover and overall it's just hard to focus.

Ugh. Here he is looking amazing and sitting in Arthur's lap wearing just one of his shirts, and he's busy stressing about something else. Fair enough, Eames isn't up to any funny business right now, but that's still unacceptable.

So here's what Eames is going to do about it. He's going to take Arthur's face in both hands and lean up to kiss him right on his stupid, handsome mouth.

Arthur can't say he's surprised by this but he is still pleased, wrapping his arms around Eames' waist a little tighter and kissing him back slowly. He's so much smaller than he usually is right now and sometimes that's a welcome change, but Arthur's just glad it's a form he's been with before and recognizes. It can be jarring sometimes.

Eames is generally pleased with this, scooting closer on Arthur's lap to press against him a little and loop his arms about his neck, and he exhales a happy sigh through his nose.

"God I wish I didn't feel too nauseous for sex right now," he murmurs against Arthur's lips. It's always a sad day when he's not DTF.

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