undergrounds | closed to eames

Entry tags:

arthur,
eames

closed to eames

Arthur's no stranger to this situation. He could probably navigate Eames' bathroom in the pitch dark at this point, but he throws on the lights anyway just to make sure he looks okay before he heads back out to Eames' bedroom and throws himself down on the bed. Sleeping here is just part of the routine now, and even if it weren't Eames' bed is too comfortable to leave immediately, plus the company isn't terrible.

Arthur's well aware that if anyone told him a year or two ago that he'd be making regular visits here and for this purpose he'd call them crazy, but here he is, and it's actually kind of nice. Their professional lives still stay completely separate but they don't fight nearly as much and it's nice to have someone around who you can just get to know. Arthur's pretty sure he knows that when he shoots Eames a sleepy but sly smile he'll get some kind of positive reaction even if it's just a grin in return as Arthur slips under the covers and makes himself comfortable.

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That just gets a snort in response from Eames because he knows it's a lie, but he doesn't mind. He just shakes his head and murmurs a soft "come here" and slips his hand up around to Arthur's back to try and pull him closer.

That's a command he's going to obey nine times out of ten, so he shuffles closer and lifts his head to give Eames a kiss as he brings his hand to Eames' jaw.

Eames grins and kisses Arthur back, trailing his fingers up and down Arthur's back with a soft sigh.

This afterglow state is becoming more and more one of Arthur's favourite parts of sleeping with Eames. It lets him indulge something that he wants that runs deeper than wanting to have sex, but Arthur's ignoring all those thoughts and feelings at present so he's just going to focus on how good Eames feels pressed up against him.

The memory of a few days ago is fresh and simple, so it's no wonder that Eames picks up on it so easily. It's the closing ceremony of the Night Tournament and Eames is there, Eames is walking towards him in fact, and Arthur barely even notices the feeling anymore but it makes him smile every time. And when Eames smiles back at him it's approaches unbearable, but Arthur just registers that as excitement at the possibility of really good sex. The thing is, when Eames walks up to him all smiles because he's won the whole damn thing, for a second Arthur just thinks about how fucking beautiful he is and nothing else.

There's a lot wrapped up in that one moment, but it's quick and clear. The whole series of events has happened before so it's not really that significant for Arthur, but he remembers that night in particular because all of it was so good.

Eames is just enjoying the kiss at first; Arthur really is great at it.

But then suddenly he's seeing himself through Arthur's eyes, seeing himself after he won the tournament and the accompanying feelings Arthur felt at the time and it's... It's so different to how he assumed Arthur felt. Overwhelming, almost. Eames flinches away instantly, pulling his hands back to himself.

He's too tired to really control his reaction the way he usually would, brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and concern as he tries to process what he's just seen. Part of him assuming maybe he just interpreted, because Arthur certainly can't be that attached to him. They've gotten close over this last year or so, certainly, but now it makes him worry Arthur wants something more that Eames really can't give him.

On the other hand, he does have to admit, he looks amazing through Arthur's eyes. So maybe that's all it is. Just Arthur being happy to see a really attractive man.

Arthur makes a noise when Eames pulls away. He almost goes back in to try and kiss him again but the look on Eames' face is enough to make him pause. His hand is still on Eames' cheek and he keeps it there as he frowns and looks at him curiously.

"What is it?" he says.

God there's a difficult question. Eames frowns and shakes his head, because now he has to think about what to tell him and it's a lot all at once. He doesn't even know if he's willing to tell Arthur what he can do yet, but he has to tell him something.

He needs a moment to get that all in order though, and he raises a hand to gesture for Arthur to wait, almost putting it on Arthur's chest but he thinks better at the last moment and doesn't quite make contact.

Arthur withdraws, looking concerned, and he shuffles back a few inches to put a bit of space between them.

"I don't understand," he says, his voice calm and steady. He has no idea what's going on right now and he's a little worried he did something but for the life of him he can't figure what that would be.

"I've... Learned some new magic," Eames says, a little hesitant. That much isn't a secret, the scroll was part of the ceremony, but he's worried Arthur's going to ask what it is and it's a little surprising to him, but he'd rather not lie. "I'm still learning to get it under control."

Arthur wants to respect Eames' privacy and not grill him on this but now he's wondering if he's in danger somehow. He's silent for a little while as he tries to figure out what to say without sounding like he's prying.

"Okay," he says, "that doesn't really explain what just happened."

He thinks he deserves to know.

Eames is still a little hesitant, it's not outright a question, but it might as well be. He doesn't want to lie, at this point they've established a degree of honesty and respect he'd rather not tarnish, and Arthur's one of few people who knows about other skills he has under his belt and he has yet to make Eames regret telling him. If anything it's improved both their work and their sex life substantially.

"I can see memories," he says, mentally preparing himself for how to answer the question he knows is coming next, "it caught me off guard."

Arthur had already pulled back, but now all the humour and patience leaves his face and he gives Eames a hard look. He tries - like really tries - not to sound angry already but it's clear he doesn't want to beat around the fucking bush with this.

"What did you see?"

"When you saw me at the ceremony the other day. You were so... Happy." He says the word like it's not a good thing, frowning at the wall behind Arthur's head. Part of him brings it up to try and get around some other things that might be worth talking about, but if they're doing honesty tonight, it's something that's going to weigh on Eames' mind until they get a chance to talk about it.

Arthur cycles through anger to embarrassment over the course of a couple seconds but his frown remains. After a moment he rolls onto his back so he can look at the ceiling while he thinks this over. He doesn't want to ask why that would catch Eames off guard but that would be denial of the idea that there are feelings there at all and Arthur's mad now that he's had to think about how there are feelings there to deny in the first place. He's been doing such a good job ignoring them. It's not like they're anything stronger than what one might expect, but they don't talk about this stuff, and it's just easier not to deal with it.

What a mess.

He feels a little like he should apologise. He won't, but the feeling is there, because they both know this isn't something Arthur would've shared if he had a choice.

Eames rolls onto his back too, also frowning, but mostly it's because he's going to start talking and Arthur's going to hate it and he's going to hate it and it's about to be an all around bad time, but he needs to be certain of where they are with eachother.

"You know I enjoy what we have," he starts with a sigh. He already hates this.

Arthur's hand balls into a fist at his side as he keeps staring at the ceiling, his breathing getting a little more forced. He thinks about cutting Eames off there but he's too angry right now - firstly that Eames, however unintentional, managed to dig into his mind like that, and secondly that they have to fucking talk about his feelings now.

"Neither of us wanted me to see that, but I have now, and..." He turns his head to look at Arthur, expression still concerned but he knows he's in dangerous territory. It's a rare thing, but right now Eames isn't completely sure how to navigate that.

"You're somebody I've come to care about," Eames says, almost as though it's a secret of his own he'd rather not share, and turns his head back to stare at the ceiling. His voice is tinged with a little guilt, near enough apologetic, "I've hurt a lot of people-- ruined a lot of lives. I don't want yours to be one of them."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Arthur says when he finally can't stand it anymore, and he slips out of bed to locate his underwear and start putting it on. He doesn't want or need to hear this from Eames and he certainly doesn't need Eames thinking he wants all of that, but he's so filled with anger and embarrassment that there's no way he's staying to have a rational conversation about it.

"Arthur--" Eames sits up, though he doesn't follow Arthur out of the bed, and drags his hands through his hair in frustration. "Can you just atay and talk to me here?"

"You don't get to dig around in my head and then make assumptions about what I want based on one minute of my life," Arthur says, sharp but still even in tone as he picks up his pants and starts to put those on as well. It cannot happen fast enough. "If I wanted to talk about this I'd bring it up."

"I'm not--" Well, maybe he is. Eames watches Arthur getting dressed, a little upset at how badly this all has gone and he sighs heavily.

Time to try a different way around. Eames swallows, glancing away as he talks.

"You're right-- I'm sorry. I saw something I shouldn't have and I panicked."

That gets Arthur to stop, right after he's picked his shirt up and started thinking he should probably just get out of this bedroom and do up all these fucking buttons downstairs. He looks at Eames, thinks about how good it would feel to just crawl back into bed and let Eames wrap his arms around him for a little while, but he can't do that. Eames is right - they should talk about this and clear the air but the shame Arthur feels right now makes that prospect seem agonizing.

He looks down at his shirt - god he hates the way it gets so wrinkled on Eames' floor - and takes a deep breath.

"Yeah," he says, "I'm gonna go."

He doesn't really wait for a response, just starts out the bedroom door in slightly less of an urgent huff than before.

Ugh. Eames is tempted just to let Arthur leave and be done with this, but it's going to be on his mind for ages and the way Arthur’s hurrying out of here only makes him more sure they need to talk this out.

He doesn't bother grabbing something to make himself a little bit decent, just slips out of bed and hurries after Arthur in the nude, "Arthur, please."

"What?" Arthur asks sharply, shrugging on his shirt and starting on the bottom button. "What do you think is going to happen, here? We can't not talk about it but that's about the last thing I want to do right now."

Part of him wants Eames to give him a good reason to stay but he needs to sit and think for a while and come up with a way to deal with this.

"Just come back to bed then." He sighs, hesitantly reaches out to put a hand on Arthur's hip, and gives him an apologetic frown. "We can talk about this some other time, but I don't want you to leave like this."

closed to eames

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