30. now that it's raining more than ever, know that we'll still have each other

[mememaker]

HURT & COMFORT RP [EXPANDED]
Hurt/Comfort - Hurt/comfort is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the characters and their relationship.

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Comments

and so many issues

[triedinception]

Eames knew why he was here but he didn't know how to even start saying it. From the first day this had been one of their small issues; Arthur liked explanations, being told where he stood. Three years in a British juvenile hall had taught Eames to trust nonverbal cues, body language, and to use that in return to communicate. His two-month stint in a real American prison proper had reinforced that fact.

But that wasn't how Arthur worked.

Eames had wanted Arthur all to himself. Every time Arthur had slept with someone and he'd watched he'd always come after them, kicking them out and using hands and teeth to mark Arthur, because he was better than them and Arthur was his. He'd wormed his way into the other man's life fair and square. The fairest way he could manage.

Eames was silent a long time, seeing the fists Arthur was making. Finally he swallowed, cleared his throat.

"I don't..." He started, and then stopped. "I can't... I can't understand why you did it." He dug his fingernails into the wood of the bench. "I was trying - I was giving you everything I had. It wasn't enough?" He turned to look at Arthur finally, blinking rapidly. He was Eames and he didn't cry.

so, so many (and omg DAT FACE ;; )

[littlspecificty]

Arthur had never been in a relationship before - he had also been alone for a very long time. He wasn't very good at communicating with others or even connecting to them remotely so for someone like Eames to have such a firm staple in his life... To know his secrets, to more or less take care of him... How could Arthur not love him? How could he not look at him and want him solely for himself?

Maybe Arthur was just wanting too much.

Maybe this was a sign that he couldn't have everything he wanted. And if that was the case... then Arthur didn't want any of it. Living what they had been for a while now just hurt him too much. He felt hollow and unclean.

And even a little lost.

He swallowed hard, still not looking at the other, blinking his own tears firmly back, "There's no point to any of it, anyway. I don't even know why I'm still here." It came out harsher than Arthur had thought he was capable of sounding at that moment.

ARTHUR'S FACE ;;

[triedinception]

It had been Eames' first real one too; the half friendship, half lover he had in juvenile left behind, and almost immediately upon coming to America had found Arthur and slept on his crummy couch and then in his bed, a rapid transition.

Arthur hadn't wanted to know how Eames was paying rent at first, with his dealing and hustling, but he eventually did know, especially when it had afforded, between Arthur's job and Eames' 'work', a better apartment.

An apartment that was too empty, now; no Arthur to cook for, to bother to wash the dishes, to press into walls and laugh into his mouth.

Because the happy moments were outweighing the pain of that stupid rule, of their frequent arguements (because Eames had never been good about his temper and Arthur had a way he wanted things). Because Eames loved those arguements too, sometimes (but not that rule.)

And now there was a bit of anger. "So you just did it to do it, then? Because I didn't - because none of that meant anything to you and you get to run away and leave me?"

HE HAS MORE ;___;

[littlspecificty]

Finally turning to face the other boy, but standing up, somehow finding the strength and movement in him to push his legs into action, even if it was mainly spurred on by anger and hurt. Voice harsh and breaking around the edges, "Yeah, because it doesn't mean a goddamn thing to you, anyway! I'm just some fuck-toy for you to keep around and -- and I don't fucking want it anymore. So, yeah, I'm leaving you, this place, every one and every thing because there's just no point to any of it anymore!"

Grabbing his bag, ignoring how his legs shook as he turned and walked away, throwing over his shoulder at Eames, refusing to believe he was this close to crying, "I don't give a fuck what you do or who anymore."

SO DOES EAMES

[triedinception]

And Eames was following right after him, this time reaching out and grabbing Arthur by the shoulder, whirling him around - Eames was bulk and whipcord even if Arthur was taller.

"You think it didn't mean anything to me?! I wouldn't have stayed so long if you were just some bloody tart! I wouldn't have gotten the apartment or put up with your stupid little game!"

He sucked his breath, deeply, but it was all pouring out now, and his fingers dug into Arthur's shoulder, keeping him in place. "I hated that fucking rule. I hated watching them but I put up with it because I cared about you. I wanted you to be happy, because I love you!"

And that had... never been his intention to tell him that way. Eames pulled his hand back and scrubbed both over his face, trying to push away the wetness at the corner of his eyes.

HE DOES ;;;;;;;;;

[littlspecificty]

Arthur felt his eyes widen at those words, his bag dropping from his hand to the ground. He felt like his legs were going to give out under him. Weakly, "What --?"

And then, not feeling the two tears fall down his cheeks, "You... love me?" He felt the color drain from his face and his guilt, the ache in his chest, intensify to what felt like an absurd degree.

He put a hand to one of his cheeks as he felt himself sink down to the ground, to his knees. He was nineteen years old, dammit. He shouldn't be crying like some small child. Even as his voice sounded so small, the tears unwilling to stop, and not succeeding in wiping them all away, "That was all I wanted. I didn't want the others but you never said it and I couldn't ask if you didn't." And he didn't care if he was rambling. He was such a fool. Such a pathetic little fool.

Maybe he deserved to lose Eames at this rate.

[triedinception]

Eames didn't answer at first, too distinctly uncomfortable with the tears on his face and wiping them off. But when he took his hands away there was Arthur on his knees, just as much of a mess as he was and Eames couldn't stand it. He was barely 20 and in love, run through the emotional wringer of a lifetime, in his opinion.

"Hey, don't- " And he was going to his knees now too, kneeling in front of Arthut and not caring that people were going to stare at them. He grabbed the hand Arthur was using to wipe his face.

"I always did. Fuck, I thought - That was why I was letting you. Do all that shit. I just wanted you, but I couldn't say it because - it's hard. I thought I was saying it loud enough already."

[littlspecificty]

He just seemed to cry harder, his other hand wiping at his eyes as he could feel himself start to hunch over. "I couldn't assume anything with you. I never wanted the others as much as I just wanted you but you never said it and then you just let me be with the others..."

It was all just one big mess. And it was all his own doing, wasn't it?

Miserably, humiliated and ashamed, "I thought you didn't care and... I couldn't stay here anymore if that was true. Just like being with you like that was too painful. I felt empty inside. Like I was dying slowly or something."

Arthur had finally gotten his sexuality back only to feel like he was being used through it.

[triedinception]

Quieter, feeling guilt start it eat its way through his heart, "I didn't think you wanted just me. I thought you wanting the others meant... meant I wasn't enough. And I thought if I said no you would leave and I couldn't... I didn't think I could handle that."

And he felt horrible to say that, because it was just as much his fault. Because he hadn't told Arthur how he felt.

After a moment he moved his other hand to Arthur's cheek, "I'm so sorry. I should have just told you I loved you."

[littlspecificty]

Arthur ended up pressing his face into Eames' neck, nearly clinging to him, not caring how pathetic and undignified he was being. He was hurting, goddammit. His heart was breaking.

"I don't want to leave you. I'm sorry I hurt you but I do love you. I only wanted you. I only need you, I don't need the others. Please don't hate me, Eames, I'm sorry. I do love you, I've always loved you."

He knew he sounded stupid and deploringly cliche, just as he was rambling and most likely slobbering all over the other young man but he couldn't stop it, he couldn't hold it all inside anymore. And he wanted Eames to know what he really felt inside and this seemed to be the only way because... well, nothing else had worked.

SOB TINY ANGRY BOYS

[triedinception]

Eames' arms went around Arthur, practically pulling him into his lap, lips pressed to his temple and feeling his chest damn near physically hurt when he heard Arthur speak.

"I don't want you to leave, god no. I love you." It was suddenly easier to say, having said it already. "I love you and I'm sorry I hurt you, I know I'm a right git."

He pulled back to make Arthur look at him, his own face red and blotchy. "I don't want to share you, I never wanted to, you're mine, dammit."

FULL OF SO MUCH ANGER AND PASSION AND NOT ABLE TO EXPRESS IT PROPERLY ;__;

[littlspecificty]

Every time Eames said it it seemed to make Arthur's heart swell; it was a painful and wonderful feeling, not sure how anyone could endure this much emotion. This much feeling. It was too much for a body as small as his to contain. At least it felt that way.

He nodded his head at that, agreeing with the statement that he was Eames', "Yes, I am." He kissed the other and then, hands to Eames' chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and tugging him closer, "And you're mine. I don't want to share you with anyone." And then kissed him harder, deeper, not caring they were in public.

If he couldn't tell Eames these things now, when it mattered most, then he truly felt his words were just that, words. And not carrying any of the meaning and weight he knew they carried in his heart.

HOW DO EMOTION AND RELATIONSHIP ._____.

[triedinception]

And that Arthur loved him, wasn't running from him as for some reason Eames had secretly feared he would, was actually agreeing with him, made Eames clutch at him tighter as he was pulled closer, opening his mouth to the possessive kiss. Only when they broke for air did he speak again.

"Always yours," he said, agreeing, one hand wrapped around Arthur's waist and the other coming up to brush hair out of his face. "And mine. Each others."

If anyone wanted to stare, they could go fuck themselves. God, Eames had almost lost him, lost Arthur - that was fucking terrifying, more than anything.

Eames ducked his head to press his mouth to Arthur's neck, sucking a bruise onto the front of his skin, even if now was not the place to get into such actions.

THEY JUST AREN'T VERY GOOD AT IT. YET.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur didn't stop the moan coming out of him at Eames' lips going to his neck, sucking so hard it went straight to his groin and he couldn't deny what he wanted. What he needed from his lover now.

Trembling, hands still clinging to the other, "Eames. We need... we need to head back home." Turning his face to where his mouth was pressed to the other young man's ear, nearly sounding breathless, "I need you to fuck me. Please."

And they couldn't, wouldn't do it here. No, this was for them, and only them. Not for an audience.