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[open] winded through monotone

1 // Late August // Ye Olde Sainsbury's (Canary Wharf/Tower Hamlets)

There's literally no other way to describe how Eames looks right now other than the words 'vacuum sealed skeleton'. It's just a Bad Look, and for a man with his degree of vanity it's pretty much the worst thing that could ever happen.

He does still need to eat though, and Eames refuses to hole himself up in his flat and have people deliver to him because pride is a frustratingly unhelpful vice.

Thankfully though, Eames looks sufficiently little like himself at this point that he's not worried about being recognised. He's kind of trying to own this 'walking corpse' look, even if none of his clothes fit and this cap feels dumb and people are giving him weird looks while he looks at the booze section. Like a man who has no business still being alive can't enjoy a drink. What a bunch of pricks.

2 // 5 September // Tate Britain (Southwark)

When you're used to a degree of fluidity with your presentation, being stuck looking one way with no control over what's happening to your body while it ages rapidly is suffocating. As much as he missed his face looking how it should, it's been something hellish not being able to change even the slightest of his features.

As much as he'd like to be doing something fun, however, business calls. Which makes it Alice's night.

There's a gallery showing in the Tate — a history of 19th century Communist art — and as a fence by any other name, Alice is responsible for securing a significant amount of the paintings on display. Aside from a tidy sum of money, she also has a VIP ticket for the opening night, so she turns up- suit on and magic suppressed.

Most often, she'll be found with the man in charge of this, being introduced to friends and anyone with enough money to be an 'associate' of his, but she spends a lot of time on her own looking at the displays too. Inspecting the paintings with an appreciating eye and a glass of wine that never seems to leave her hand.

3 // 1-7 September // The New House (Camden)

Thanks to an Asshole Who Will Go Unnamed, Eames has had to put some plans back significantly, and had to endure a lot of things he'd rather not do again ever in his lifetime.

He's back to himself and back on track now though, with a new house and everything. And a dog! A quiet and cautious rotteweiler he's put off on bringing home since he didn't exactly want to deal with what was happening to him and training a pet at the same time. Decorating and dealing with a pet, however, has been surprisingly easy. Especially now he's progressed to the upstairs. It does make everything take a little longer, but it's a worthy sacrifice.

Anyone with cause to visit his new place can be treated to this, and more! More being: Eames in a tanktop and tracksuit bottoms with paint splatters all over, beer, and being stared at by a dog trying to decide how to feel.

4 // Wildcard

PM, hit me up at FiremanSam, or just tag me. Let's party.

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"Well, hopefully this is a welcome distraction," Arthur says wryly, gesturing with the scotch. Eames actually seems to be in good spirits despite the fact that the vampires are still a problem and everything, but Arthur supposes one can't fixate on that forever. He's not currently fixating on it, anyway.

"It is that," and his tone of voice makes it very clear he's not thinking about the scotch. Though that too, is a very welcome distraction.

He'd love to get up and get some glasses, but Boxer has returned! This time with a toy in his mouth, and he comes to stand in front of Arthur, tail still low and curious and face pretty expectant for a dog. Friends like toys, this is what he has been taught.

Sometimes Arthur wonders if it's really possible for Eames to be thinking about sex as often as he does, at least when they're together, and especially since he wasn't even the one that initiated their first time. Things like that confirm it, and Arthur's not necessarily opposed...

However, there is a dog standing in front of him now, holding a toy and maybe holding it out for him? Arthur hesitates again, glancing over at Eames and then back at the dog, before he reaches out his hand to take the toy.

"That for me?" he asks, pulling just hard enough that Boxer still gets to decide whether Arthur takes it or not.

He lets go, evidently pleased by this. It's been a long day and Boxer is too tired to play, but it's nice to have a new friend! He's still not 100% trusting, but his tail is up and wagging and he lets out a little 'hrf' so Arthur knows he did good.

Now the petting of the dog may commence.

Arthur grins and reaches out with his free hand to scratch Boxer's ears, totally distracted by this dog now. Sometimes he wonders if he'd have a dog if he didn't live in an apartment, but he often feels that it's way too much work anyway. He has no idea how long he'll be in London for, and dogs require more attention than he probably has.

This is nice, though.

Eames watches this for a few moments, but seeing as they're getting along it's probably safe to leave them alone for a minute or two. Just as long as it takes to get a couple of glasses out of the kitchen.

Boxer, meanwhile, is loving this attention. Licking Arthur's hand and everything. When Eames comes back, Boxer immediately comes over to him and jumps up a little on his hind legs, coming up to Eames' hip in search of more pets. Eames laughs softly and gives him some affection as he sits back on the couch at the same time.

Dogs, man.

"I guess you two are getting along?"

"Yeah," Arthur says, still smiling softly at the dog. He will openly show far more affection for Boxer than he will most humans. "He's sweet. How long ago did you get him?"

"Not long, just a couple of weeks or so." He puts the glasses down on the table because obviously this dog is after some two handed petting, which Eames is more than happy to oblige. Obviously totally uncaring about Arthur seeing him give this dog the cheek scritches of his life with a grin on his face. Because honestly if you don't act this way with dogs then you better have some horrible dog-related trauma to justify it.

Arthur takes over on the whiskey front, pulling the glasses toward him and opening the bottle to pour some into each. It's good whiskey and they may as well not waste it, so he sits back and takes a sip from his glass as he watches Eames play with the dog.

It's almost weird to see him this way, with so much joy over something other than doing harm to vampires or witches. It feels almost awkward; they've never been friends, really, not in the way that they want to see each other happy, so Arthur almost feels like he's peeking in on something he shouldn't see. It's so bizarre and Arthur chastises himself for being so weird, which manifests as him taking another sip of whiskey and just keeping his mouth shut as he waits for Eames to do the same.

He doesn't keep it up too long, basically just giving the dog plenty of affection for getting along with a new person before Eames tells him to sit. And Boxer does obediently, propping his face on Eames' knee because he still expects affection. He's been such a good boy!

Finally though, he can have some of that booze. Eames reaches for a glass and takes a sip, leaning back against the back of the couch with a sigh. "Good choice," he says, looking at the glass in his hand. Scotch is so good.

"Thought I should bring a housewarming gift," Arthur says before he takes another sip from his glass. The dog has been such a distraction he feels like he can't remember why he came over here to begin with. It was primarily to check in and see Eames' new house, but he's sure he had ulterior motives, probably other than sex.

Eames is fairly certain Arthur's entire motivation is the sex, he can't imagine another reason Arthur would drop by other than that or work, and since he's not got business to talk about. Well, it seems a fair assumption to him.

He's happy to enjoy the scotch for now though, and he takes another sip, idly petting the dog with his free hand.

"It's certainly appreciated."

Arthur drinks again, looking around the room at Eames' decorating job. It's nice - he has surprisingly good taste for someone who dresses the way he does, but Arthur's not going to just go about complimenting him. He follows another train of thought instead.

"Have you had any trouble from anyone in the area? They can't be used to having a fae for a neighbour."

"I don't think they know." It's not like he just goes about showing off his magic, after all. Even with his anonymity slipping away, Eames does what he can to maintain what he has left of it. And besides all that, your average person has no idea about this whole world around them.

Eames shrugs a shoulder, gesturing with the glass, "it's not as if I went door-to-door announcing myself and granting wishes."

Arthur nods thoughtfully before he goes on. "It's funny to think the Lord of Autumn has moved in to Night Council territories and none of the witches are even aware."

He gives Eames a look as if to say yes, I know about that, before he leans forward to put his glass back down on the table. It's almost time for a refill.

Ugh, of course Arthur knows. Eames snorts and shakes his head, "here's hoping it stays that way, mm?"

"Mm," Arthur says in vague agreement, as he pours himself another bit of scotch. Might as well get a bit of a buzz on while he's here, right?

Well, Eames enjoys his drink quietly, ocassionally looking down at Boxer's head in his lap and giving him some light pets while he snoozes. After a while though, it becomes obvious this is actual sleep and not just a little chilling out, so he sighs and wakes Boxer up gently.

"Time for bed," he says, and it's clearly a command rather than a gentle suggestion, one that Boxer responds to after a moment of staring at Eames by getting up and slowly padding into the kitchen.

Welcome to this weird look into domesticity with Eames, Arthur.

Arthur watches all this happen in silent interest, and he's impressed when Boxer walks away without any argument whatsoever. But that means they're alone now and he has to face the fact that he came over here probably just to have sex. It's not like he has anything to talk about other than a laundry list of politics Eames probably doesn't want to provide any information on, so as soon as Boxer's gone Arthur raises an eyebrow at Eames, wondering if they're going to bother with any more small talk.

Eames stands with a sigh, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders a little and listening out for any trouble with the dog before he turns to reach for the bottle on the table.

He glances at Arthur, raising an eyebrow before he decides to just casually plant himself in Arthur's lap, straddling him while he casually refills his glass.

"So. You come over just to see the place, or...?"

Arthur holds up his drink to avoid Eames spilling it with his whole getting-into-Arthur's-lap situation. He makes Eames wait for the answer while he takes another sip of his drink and sighs.

"Mm, I didn't really have my heart set on anything other than seeing your interior decorating when I came over."

Nah he was definitely thinking about sex.

Eames leans back to put the bottle on the table and takes a sip of his own drink while he waits for Arthur's answer, making a soft, thoughtful noise in response.

"Mm, well. I think you'll like what I've done with the bedroom."

Arthur raises his eyebrows again as if Eames is proposing something very interesting, even though he would have used the exact same line if the opportunity had presented itself. He gestures with his drink without taking his eyes off Eames before he says, "after you."

But he just sat down, Eames was kind of hoping to stay put for a little longer. He tilts his head a little, looking at Arthur's face and-- well. Mostly his lips. And he carefully gets back off his lap, turning to lead the way up the stairs and into the blackness where adult people do adult things that bystanders can't know about.

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