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The job had gone pear-shaped. Not the dreaming, that part had gone off without a hitch, but because of some unfortunate coincidence they were found out while trying to sneak out of the exclusive party they had infiltrated.
Eames was alone as he tried to outrun the trigger-happy guards chasing him through the mansion. He was almost outside when he was shot. Pain flared in his side, and he almost dropped the PASIV as he stumbled. The guards were now gaining on him, so he hid behind a corner to catch his breath and regroup, thinking he’d have to fight his way out after all.
He heard another round of shots and someone screaming his name, and then Arthur was bolting towards him from another corridor brandishing his Glock. Arthur barely slowed down before yanking Eames away by his arm and down a different passage.
‘Come on, Eames!’ he urged, and Eames was helpless to do anything but follow, even as Arthur raised his free arm to shoot at the window and led them through it.
They were only on the first floor, luckily, but still they rolled to the ground with the force of their jump.
‘What the hell, Arthur! Are you out of your mind? This isn't a dream!’ Eames exclaimed in agitation, a little strained with pain.
Arthur shrugged with the faintest smirk. ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it? And look, we’re already in the parking lot. I’d say it was pretty efficient.’
Eames rolled his eyes at Arthur’s logic, still trying to catch his breath and soothe the burning in his side, and looked at his companion. Arthur looked a bit dishevelled too and was still panting even as he came closer to examine Eames’ wound.
‘Through and through. That’s good, we may not need an actual doctor.’ Arthur said as he took off his dark coat to use to stifle the blood, and that’s when Eames noticed.
‘You’re bleeding too.’ he said, pointing at Arthur’s arm.
‘It’s nothing, just a graze. Come on, we need to go.’ Arthur said as he secured the makeshift pad with a belt. ‘I have a place not too far away, we should be safe there.’
‘Wait. Let me see your arm.’
‘Eames, we don’t have time. The guards-’
Oh, why did he have to be so stubborn? ‘It’ll only take a mo. Please, love.’
Arthur sighed but allowed Eames to look at his arm and tighten his tie around it, blushing as Eames gave his arm a little kiss. ‘Satisfied, now?’ he asked irritably to try and mask his reaction to the sweet gesture.
‘Very much so, darling.’ Eames responded with a grin, collecting the PASIV and letting himself be hauled to his feet and guided to their getaway car.
The not-too-far safe place turned out to be a few hours away, screw Americans’ perception of distances. It was also one state border away, in Prague, which Arthur had insisted on as an added layer of protection in their situation.
They finally stumbled into Arthur’s apartment, so late at night it was practically morning. Arthur wasted no time with empty pleasantries but locked the door and directed them to the bathroom, so he could start working to patch Eames up.
‘My, my, darling. What a poor host you are, not even offering to give me a tour of the place before dragging me here and taking my clothes off.’
Arthur frowned at the sly comment but at least his face lost some of its pinched quality. ‘Shut up and take this, Eames. I need to stitch you up.’ he said, and gave Eames a couple of painkillers and a cup of water.
Eames drank obediently and settled, not wanting to disturb Arthur’s concentration, but he needed a little something to distract himself from the pain, and while looking at his semi-stable casual lover was one of his favourite pastimes, the silence was killing him. Also, there was something about this place that nagged at him.
‘How come I didn’t know about this place, darling? I thought I knew all of your boltholes.’
Arthur paused for a moment, brief but noticeable to someone who made of the pointman his field of study. ‘That’s why it’s safe. If no one knows about it, no one can find me here.’ He looked up at Eames from behind his lashes. ‘It’s a bit of a rookie mistake to assume you know everything about me, Mr Eames.’ he added a bit cockily, though the effect was ruined by the tension and weariness seeping through his voice.
‘Oh, hush you.’ Eames retorted. It was half-hearted, not really having taken offence. It was true after all, Arthur was a mystery, and he suspected not even in a lifetime he would uncover everything that made Arthur who he was. The way Arthur said it, though, made him think that maybe he stumbled on another piece of the puzzle.
But he was still very much in pointman mode, and Eames was far too exhausted to interrogate the nagging feeling he had at the back of his mind. He barely had the energy to clean and glue together Arthur’s wound after his own was properly dressed.
Eames grunted in pain as he stood up after finishing. ‘God, it hurts. You’ll have to kiss it better.’
Arthur rolled his eyes but it was fond, a smile tugging at his lips. ‘So demanding. Isn’t it enough that I patched you up?’
‘But this is a really important step of the treatment, darling. I may die without it.’ Eames all but whined.
‘Mm. And we don’t want that.’ But he was already coming closer even as he said it.
‘Nope. I would prefer not, thanks.’
Arthur shook his head at Eames’ antics, the smile now in full display, small and fond. ‘You’re ridiculous.’ He cradled Eames head with his good hand and gave him a soft lingering peck on the lips. ‘Let’s go to sleep, Mr Eames.’
Eames was out like a light the instant his head finally touched the pillow.
***
Eames opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling and his side on fire. He jolted up in a panic but then saw Arthur, curled on the bed beside him, arm bandaged but looking peaceful with his face smashed into the pillow, and he felt like breathing again.
Memories came flooding back, the job, the chase, the drive. He was so grateful Arthur had decided to screw protocol and stick with him when everyone dispersed to the winds, otherwise things would have been much bleaker for him.
He pushed a few stray hairs out of Arthur’s face and gingerly got up, careful not to wake him. He deserved his rest after driving for so long yesterday.
He went to the loo and took a shower, and only then he realized he had no clean clothes. Cursing lightly to himself, he wrapped a towel around his waist and got back to the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe in search of something to wear. It was sparser than he expected, which was stupid considering their lifestyle always on the move, Arthur probably had suits spread all around his various safehouses. He tried to crouch down to rummage in the drawers, but his body was still stiff from yesterday’s adventure and he hit the closet door with a pang of pain.
‘Eames?’ Came the groggy voice from the bed.
Eames winced, so much for being quiet. He turned toward Arthur with a sheepish smile. ‘Yes, darling. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just lost my balance a little.’
Arthur’s eyes, still bleary from sleep, sharpened to full alertness. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine.’ Eames waved a dismissive hand to dispel Arthur’s concern. ‘Just moved too fast.’
Arthur got up anyway to check on him. He brushed a hand to his cheek. ‘You look a bit better than yesterday.’
‘I feel it too.’
‘Good.’ Some previously unnoticed tension left Arthur’s shoulders. ‘What were you trying to do, by the way?’ he asked, eyes narrowing a bit.
‘Ah, nothing sordid, I promise. Just looking for something to wear since my own clothes aren’t salvageable.’
‘Oh. Right.’ Arthur’s gaze swept down, as if only now realizing Eames’ state.
He opened a couple of drawers and took out a few clothes for his companion. ‘Here. These should fit you.’
‘Thank you, love.’ Eames inspected the items, underwear, light grey sweats and, most shockingly, a purple hoodie. ‘A hoodie?’
‘Yeah. It’s the biggest one I own.’ Arthur answered with his head still in the closet to get some clothes for himself too.
‘The biggest! This implies you own more than one! Who are you and where is the real Arthur?’
Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘I’m allowed to wear something other than suits, you know?’
‘Yes but, Arthur, hoodies. How can I be sure you’re not a pod person?’ He asked with a grin. Messing with Arthur never got old, though it was an honestly interesting discovery.
‘I will eviscerate you with a teaspoon and sell your remains to the Russian Mafia if you don’t shut up right now.’
Eames chuckled. ‘Okay, it’s really you. No one else would be so casually violent and vindictive first thing after waking up.’
Arthur got up with an exasperated sigh. ‘Well, if you’re quite finished analysing my wardrobe I’d like to shower too.’
He made toward the door but Eames stopped him, now serious. ‘Wait. You never told me how you are feeling, pet.’
Arthur scowled a little and didn’t bother lying. ‘Sore. And pissed. I’ll have to check what the hell went wrong and make sure everyone’s safe and the mark won’t come chasing after us.’
Awake for not 10 minutes and he was already in high gear and stressing about everything. It was one of the things that made him an excellent pointman, and it would be impressive if it wasn’t so exasperating.
‘Breakfast first, though, eh?’ Eames tried in a gentle tone.
‘I can’t, Eames. We may still be in danger and-’
But Eames could see how exhausted he still was and shushed him with a finger to his lips. ‘Arthur, darling, I get that there are still a lot of loose ends, but you won’t be helping anyone if you don’t get some fuel in you first. How long is breakfast going to take anyway? Half an hour? Surely you can spare it. Please?’ He gave Arthur his best puppy look, the one he knew Arthur couldn’t resist. He wasn’t disappointed.
Arthur grabbed Eames’ wrist, gently, and sighed. ‘Alright. Breakfast. Then work.’ And he disappeared in the bathroom.
Eames grinned to himself at the small victory while getting dressed. The sweats were obviously a bit tight for him, but the hoodie was perfect and very comfy, the fabric made even softer with use. It was really intriguing.
He decided there would be nothing wrong if he started exploring the flat on his own. It was a charming little thing, comfortable but not lavishly big, neat and well furnished in warm tones and with a lot more personality than he expected from efficient Arthur for a safehouse. The nagging feeling he had almost managed to forget returned with a vengeance. There was a huge library in the living room, packed with books and CDs and movies, and pictures. There weren’t many: one of Cobb and Mal’s wedding with Arthur standing proudly as best man; one of the Cobblets playing; one with an older couple; one with a teenaged Arthur with longer hair and another boy, both grinning over what looked like some kind of experiment; one with Arthur smiling brilliantly in a way he never saw and holding one of two identical little girls in each arm, and one with Arthur and a handful of dark-haired young people that all seemed to be touching one way or another.
Arthur emerged from the bathroom before he could take a closer look at the pictures, in sweatpants of his own and a loose light blue T-shirt, hair let loose in fluffy, still damp curls. But it had already clicked.
‘Arthur, this isn’t a mere safehouse, right?’ He asked in wonder, heart pounding under the weight of the revelation. ‘This is a home. Your home.’
‘It is my Europe home.’ He tried to stay nonchalant, like this was no big deal, but suddenly he couldn’t meet Eames’ eyes. ‘I have one in the States as well for that matter. Why?’
There was vulnerability in Arthur’s tone, and a smidgen of defensiveness, so Eames decided not to push, even if he was burning with curiosity. ‘Nothing. I’m just very grateful you allowed me here in my time of need.’
Arthur frowned in disbelief at that. ‘We were in danger and needed shelter, and this was the safest place I knew at a respectable driving distance from Vienna, of course I took you here.’
Eames was left momentarily speechless by Arthur’s earnestness, and Arthur took advantage to redirect him to the kitchen so they could finally have coffee and something to eat.
After breakfast, which consisted of dried fruit and cereal since there were only non-perishables in the house at the moment, Arthur set to try and fix the mess from the Vienna job, while Eames entertained himself with the contents of the library. It was really interesting, he found out so many little things about who Arthur was as a person, outside of dreamshare, just by looking at it.
He always knew there was a lot more to Arthur than he let on, it was part of his allure, having to work to find out more about the man behind the mask of the pointman, and now it was all here within reach. He was fascinated. For example, while he knew Arthur had a truly eclectic taste in music, he hadn’t known Arthur enjoyed fantasy books. He also spied a guitar on the side of the library, but when he got closer Arthur ordered him to not touch it but to rest since he was still injured.
Eames wanted to protest but, as if on cue, his side started aching again, so he sat down with a borrowed book.
Despite his best efforts, as the hours passed, Eames’ thoughts kept on circling back to their earlier conversation, unable to wrap his mind around it.
Arthur had been so matter-of-fact, like it was perfectly normal for him to invite people home, or maybe like it was just the most logical course of action in their circumstances, and neither appealed to him much. But this was Arthur, he was reserved by nature, and the one person Eames knew who was as jealously protective of his secrets as he was and in the same way, though seeing those pictures only confirmed the suspicion that Arthur’s motives for it were different from his own.
It was an unprecedented situation. Yes they were lovers, but they were in a very casual stage of it, where they kept their encounters to neutral places like hotels, not quite ready to expose too much of themselves. Hell, he hadn’t even known this place existed before last night and now he was here. Somehow it felt huge, but he wasn’t sure it was the same for Arthur, or what his thoughts were in general as he kept working, his top priority at the moment.
The man in question, now wearing a red hoodie, was currently curled up on the sofa near him, typing furiously on his laptop.
He threw increasingly frequent glances at Eames, disturbed by his fidgeting, till he finally had enough. ‘Eames.’
Eames was so deep in thought he jumped in surprise at the sudden sound. ‘Yes?’
Arthur was now properly concerned. ‘What’s wrong, Eames? Do you need another painkiller?’
‘No, no. Nothing’s wrong, love. I’m okay.’
Arthur narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re not the only one who can spot a liar, you know? It may not be your wound but something is troubling you. What is it? I can’t help if you don’t tell me.’
‘It really is nothing to worry about, Arthur.’
‘Eames!’ Arthur repeated more firmly, intent to go at the bottom of this.
‘It’s stupid. Just- What am I doing here?’
‘It is a stupid question. I thought we got over this already. We needed a place and I could provide one.’
‘Yes, but I’m sure you could have come up with at least a handful of other solutions and instead we’re in your home, and I feel, I don’t know, like I’m intruding. I mean, I know how much you value your privacy…’ Eames trailed off uncertainly.
Arthur’s eyes widened in understanding. He shifted closer and put a hand on his neck. ‘Eames, you idiot. Yes, I care about my privacy, but I care about you a lot more. I don’t mind you being here. As you said, I would have found another way if I didn’t want you to know about this place.’
‘Do you mean it? For real?’ Eames’ stomach did an odd flip.
‘Yes. You know, no one else knows about this place. But, though the circumstances aren’t ideal, I… like having you here with me, Mr Eames.’ Arthur finished with a tiny smile, bashful and almost hopeful.
It seemed like such a little thing, but both of them could feel the weight of that confession. What it really meant. It wasn’t just his home, but his life that Arthur was entrusting to Eames. Opening yourself up like this, even with someone you trust and care about, was scary.
Arthur had been so brave in taking that first step, and part of Eames wanted to just reassure him that it was okay, he would never take advantage of it, he may act like a careless fool at times but secrets, real secrets, were sacred (unless he was hired to steal them, but that was neither here nor there, and he would never steal from the few he considered allies and friends anyway, he was a bastard but he had his own code of honour). But another part of him was scared at what that entailed, commitment, expose your most tender and fragile pieces to another’s watchful eyes.
Deep in his heart though, he couldn’t deny that there was a reason he stopped seeing other people after he started seeing Arthur, and he knew there would never be anyone but him.
After a minute that felt like a lifetime, Eames took Arthur’s hand in his and intertwined their fingers together as he came up with his answer.
‘So, hypothetically, if you were to go through my stuff, what would be the worst thing you could find that would make you run the other way?’
Arthur’s smile grew slightly bigger. ‘None. I know you, I know what to expect, and even if it’s unexpected I’d trust you to have your reasons.’ Arthur answered simply, confidently, and Eames felt a surge of warmth at the declaration. But still…
‘Even if you’d find a dead body or something?’
‘Well, I would hope you’d trust me enough to ask for my help, and that’s why I’d see it.’
‘Of course, darling. I was just talking in hypotheticals.’
‘I’m serious, Eames. Call me. Especially if your idea of hiding it is keeping it among your stuff. That’s absolutely idiotic and not safe at all.’
Arthur wore such a comical expression of disbelief, exasperation and outrage that Eames couldn’t help but laugh and kiss him. And as they locked lips he thought he finally found the most important piece of the puzzle. Arthur loved him, and he loved Arthur.