30. now that it's raining more than ever, know that we'll still have each other
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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And now it was gone. Arthur wouldn't ever hear that "nonsense" whispered to him anymore. Wouldn't hear him call him all of those pet names or make all of those shameless remarks full of innuendo or be just generally obnoxious and Arthur tell him to shut the fuck up like he always did.
Eames' primary mode of expressing himself - whether it be a shout of temper, a thoughtful explanation, a condescending remark, or a rasp against Arthur's ear that caused him to flush - it was gone. It had been taken from him. Arthur would be the first to say that the forger didn't deserve such a cruel fate.
Pressing his forehead against the other man's again, his own tears blurring his vision but refusing to let them fall when Eames had more of a right to cry than Arthur did. Arthur still had his voice. His fingers going into the other's hair, "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop it. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to stop them from doing this to you, Eames. I'm so, so sorry." And, God above, he was. He had been right in the next fucking room. He could have... If only he had come out of the other room just a minute sooner...
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It wasn't Arthur's fault Eames had played the turncoat all those years ago, was not Arthur's fault Eames had been careless and let them find him, and the fact that they were competant and silent was not Arthur's fault either.
So he shook his head and smoothed his hands through Arthur's hair, willing him to understand that. That Eames was greatful that Arthur had saved him, gotten him to help.
That he was still here to be with Arthur.
It didn't help with the tears, because he was crying in his frustration, about the fact that he couldn't talk. But he nudged his cheek against Arthur's, pressing a salty kiss to the side of the point man's cheek.
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But the kiss at least reminded him who needed to be taken care of here and it was his lover. He carded his fingers through Eames' hair, nuzzling his face, pressing his own kiss to the corner of the forger's mouth. He then pulled away a little, certain his own tears had been blinked back, "Will you come lay down with me?"
Rest would do them both good after the past few hours.
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He pushed Arthur gently towards the bed after a moment, letting go of him to start pushing his own tweed jacket off, to pull the hospital shirt off.
Of course, in doing that he glanced down and grimaced. They had done a good job of cleaning him up, but there was still dried blood on part of his chest and stomach, flaking off.
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He then led him to the bathroom and didn't waste anytime wetting a washcloth with warm water and then, after wringing it out some, turned to wipe off the dried blood for the other man.
The point man did all of this silently, not seeing any reason to try and distract either of them with idle chatter.
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