fic: You're Waiting for a Stranger (3/3)
Part Two
FRIDAY
5
NOV 2010
Arthur arrives at the Beat Kitchen early, hiding out in the bar and hoping that Yusuf makes good on his promise to get Eames here. He texted Eames on his way here to say that he was meeting a study group at 6:30 (half an hour before the concert starts), so Eames won't be expecting to hear from him for a while.
When Eames arrives, about 10 minutes before doors are meant to open, he heads straight for the bar, just as Arthur had hoped. Arthur waves at the bartender and points Eames out, and luckily she's competent enough to remember their earlier conversation and not tell Eames who sent the drink.
Arthur is careful to enter the main room of the venue behind Eames, standing off to the side during the first opener. He doesn't miss Eames checking his phone between songs, and his fingers itch to text him, just to say hi. Still, he's happy to see the first band go off stage.
When the band they're here to see comes on, Eames makes an idiot of himself, enjoying it. Arthur waits until their first song is fading out and uses the opportunity to slide up behind Eames while he's busy screaming and clapping in appreciation.
He announces his presence with hands on hips, fitting himself against Eames and smiling when his actions cut off Eames' antics abruptly.
"You may have been right about them," Arthur says against Eames' ear. "If the rest of their set is as good as that song, we might have even more in common."
Eames has relaxed from a back-off-stranger type of tense to a much more thrilling type of tense. Arthur lets his lips graze the shell of his ear as he murmurs, "Good to see you again."
"You told me you were staying in to study tonight," Eames accuses. He doesn't turn around, but he leans into Arthur's embrace just slightly.
The band starts up their next song, drowning out Arthur's reply. Eames turns, then, and Arthur smirks as he leans in and repeats, "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."
"You planned this?"
"Come on, Eames. What are the odds we would meet by chance that many times?"
Arthur keeps one arm stretched across Eames' back as he moves to stand beside him, grabbing the beer from his hand and taking a swig. Eames protests, but then Arthur points out that he paid for it.
"Oh, that was you?" Eames asks, looking back toward the bar.
"Don't sound so disappointed," Arthur says with a smirk, handing back Eames' drink. He marvels at how much easier this is this time. He doesn't even feel self-conscious about the PDA, because everything about Eames' body language says he is loving it.
"No," Eames insists, "it's just I thought the bartender was hitting on me. She probably thinks I'm a pig."
"You are a pig, Eames. It's better for her if she knows it now."
Eames peers at him as the song ends. "You're not drunk, are you?"
It's more curiosity than accusation, but Arthur's eyes still narrow, and he drops his arm from Eames' back.
"Oh, don't be like that," Eames says with a smile, bumping his shoulder against Arthur's. "We've only just met for the second time; how am I to know how you act when drunk?"
Arthur purses his lips and lets it go, but he doesn't put his arm back.
Eames doesn't seem too bothered, especially when his favorite song comes on next. He gestures wildly with his beer and, before long, encourages Arthur to join him in what Arthur supposes he would call a dance. After that, Arthur is too busy laughing to stay angry, and he even forgets why he was offended in the first place.
They play a couple more songs, but they're only the second opener so their next song will be their last for tonight.
The song is a slow one, and Arthur thinks that's a strange choice after such an upbeat set. Eames smirks at him and leans close to say, "I can feel your judgment from here."
Arthur is still trying to side whether to defend himself when Eames says, "You've never heard this song before, have you?"
The drum beat slows and drops, then the vocals cut out simultaneously with the guitar. There is a beat, then someone disrupts the sudden silence with a loud cheer as the band tears into an energetic remix of what they were just playing. Arthur raises his eyebrows, impressed, and can see Eames laughing at him from the corner of his eye.
After a few minutes of cheering obnoxiously, even after the band says their final 'thank you's, Eames goes to throw his beer away. Arthur follows him and, after the bottle falls into the trashcan with a loud clang, Eames whirls around and nearly knocks Arthur over.
Luckily, catching Eames by surprise had been Arthur's plan all along. He puts his hands on Eames shoulders to guide him back against the wall.
"Hello," Eames says happily, looking a bit disoriented.
Arthur only smirks before tilting his head and bringing their lips together.
Eames responds instantly, cupping a hand around Arthur's neck and pulling him closer. Arthur nips at Eames' bottom lip until he opens his mouth, allowing Arthur in. Arthur fists a hand in the cloth of Eames' shirt as Eames moans into his mouth. He resists the impulse to let his hands roam, but he can feel his skin heating up and finally forces himself to pull back. "We should go."
Eames makes a whining noise, breathing heavily, and his hand tightens on Arthur's neck. Arthur's resolve dies out quickly as Eames pulls him in, though, and they pick up where they left off.
Eames is a very thorough kisser. Arthur lets out little gasps every time Eames curls his tongue a certain way, sending spikes of pleasure down Arthur's spine. Almost unconsciously, he finds his hands migrating under Eames' shirt at the back, sliding over smooth skin and then down, dipping below the hem of his jeans until his fingers are resting just above the swell of Eames' ass.
Now it's Arthur's turn to whine as Eames pulls away with a jerk of his head, saying, "Right. Somewhere less public?"
"Preferably with a bed," Arthur agrees, enraptured as Eames licks his lips.
"Oh, Arthur. Where's your sense of adventure?" Eames responds, waggling his eyebrows.
It takes Arthur a moment to feel composed enough to step out of the shadows and walk out of there, but he does so, tugging Eames along behind him by his wrist.
Arthur feels anxious as they wait at the bus stop, cursing this venue under his breath for being in the middle of fucking nowhere. Eames hears him and laughs, moving to wrap his arms around Arthur from behind, his chin resting on Arthur's shoulder. Some girls just entering the venue across the street give the two of them a weird look, so Arthur leans into Eames' embrace and casually flips them off.
Eames' lips brush the back of his ear as he says, "I much prefer when you're confident like this, darling."
Arthur refuses to feel residual embarrassment for last weekend, so he smirks and replies, "You just want to get laid."
Eames nips at the shell of Arthur's ear and, at Arthur's sharp intake of breath, murmurs, "I'm not the only one."
Arthur elbows him in the side for that one, but he's still smiling.
On the bus, Eames rests a hand on Arthur's knee, and Arthur turns to study his expression. "This is okay," he says, not making it sound like a question even though it is one.
Eames looks at him in disbelief, licking his lips absently. "If I did not make myself abundantly clear at the venue, I can re-enforce my point right now. I should warn you, though, that it will probably get us kicked off this bus."
His hand slides further up Arthur's leg, and Arthur reaches down quickly to stop him, swallowing thickly. "I just meant," he begins, then has to stop and clear his throat so his voice won't sound so rough. "We've only known each other two weeks, plus a 2-hour Omegle conversation."
Eames raises his eyebrows. "Darling, I would apologize for moving too fast, but you're the one who invited me to your place."
Arthur rolls his eyes. "It just seems like it's been longer than that, to me." He's still not sure what his point is, but Eames nods.
"I know what you mean," he says, pulling out his phone. "I had to buy a replacement battery for this thing."
Arthur feels his mouth quirk up into a smile. "I had to upgrade my text messaging."
The awkward moment passes, and they go on to talk about other things, like Arthur's clothing choices and Eames' obsession with Xbox. They get so wrapped up in a conversation about modern literature and its audience that Arthur is taken by complete surprise when Eames stops mid-sentence and looks out the windows.
"What?"
"You'll have to forgive me. I've only been to your campus a handful of times. But was that not our stop?"
Arthur glances back at the street they just passed. "Oh."
Eames laughs at him, and he feels the need to defend, "Well, I like to go to the 24-hour Starbucks after concerts."
Eames' eyes light up at that, so Arthur goes on to add, "We can stop by before going back to campus? To be honest, I could use the caffeine."
"Mm," Eames agrees. "Gotta have the energy for when I keep you up all night."
Arthur makes a noise of dissent. "I intend to sleep through the night," he corrects, "and you'll be so well-fucked that you'll do the same."
Eames' eyes go slightly unfocused and his mouth falls open just a bit. Arthur has to look away so he won't lean in and claim that mouth.
After Eames has a few moments to collect his thoughts, he continues his sentence from before the missed stop, as if he'd never been interrupted. Arthur picks up his part of the conversation, smiling in satisfaction that he managed to distract Eames this once.
******
"I know it's not exactly Chicago winter outside yet," Arthur says as they pick up their drinks, "but isn't it a bit cold for a Frappuccino?"
"Well I don't drink coffee," Eames says, popping the lid off and sticking a straw into the whipped cream. "Besides, I haven't had one of these in months."
"That's because months ago, it was hot enough outside to merit one."
As they approach the bus stop, Eames sucks on his straw obscenely and utters a moan that implies his drink is heavenly. Arthur feels any past trains of thought derail abruptly. Eames has a stray bit of whipped cream on his upper lip which he licks away slowly, then catches Arthur's eye to reveal that he knew Arthur was watching.
"My kingdom to hear what's on your mind right now," Eames says quietly with an impish grin.
Arthur glances around at the others waiting for the bus. No one seems to be paying them any attention, so he steps up close to Eames and whispers in his ear.
"I want your mouth on my cock," he says confidentially. Eames shivers, and he doesn't think it's from the Frappuccino. "Then I want to fuck my tongue into your mouth while I work you open, until you're begging for me to pin you down and fuck you properly." Eames swallows thickly, and Arthur continues, "What do you think of that?"
"Where the fuck is this fucking bus?" Eames says, his voice a bit rough as he speaks up. Arthur smirks and takes a step back, sipping his pumpkin spice latte. Eames looks at him like he's thinking of jumping him right here, and Arthur forgets for a moment why that would be a bad idea.
Back on the bus, Eames is even more worked up. He bounces his leg the entire time and drums his fingers on the armrest whenever they're stopped.
"You do know that you can't make it go faster just by the power of your mind, right?"
"You can't say that for sure, darling," Eames says, grabbing Arthur's hand that's not holding his latte and squeezing. He leans closer, his breath warm against Arthur's neck as he says, "You're going to look so gorgeous, calling out my name, pulling at my hair, while I let you fuck my mouth."
Arthur blinks, slowly. "This bus needs to move faster."
"Now you're getting it," Eames says with a grin.
******
Eames gets Arthur pressed up against his door before he even has a chance to put his key away, and Arthur immediately drops the key to the floor so that he has full use of his hands. He hauls Eames close to deepen the kiss, moaning when Eames pushes his hand against Arthur's cock through his clothes.
"Such a bloody tease," Eames mumbles against Arthur's mouth with a smile. He moves his hand away to slide under Arthur's shirt, and Arthur would say now who's the tease? if he wasn't preoccupied with sucking a mark into Eames neck.
Eames feels so good pressed up against him, but Arthur wants more. He slides his hands over Eames' ass and pulls him that much closer so that their hips line up perfectly. Eames makes a keening noise, head tilted back, and Arthur uses the moment to start getting rid of clothing.
He tugs at the hem of Eames' shirt, and Eames helps him guide it over his head.
"Oh," Arthur says, fingers tracing reverently over Eames' tattoos. "I didn't realize you had so many."
"I'll tell you all about them some time," Eames promises, hands pulling at Arthur's sweater. He makes a disgruntled noise once he gets it off, fingers working at the buttons of Arthur's shirt. "Jesus, Arthur. Why are you wearing so many layers?"
Before long, their clothes are scattered on Arthur's floor. Normally that would bother Arthur, but right now Eames is sinking down to his knees and Arthur doesn't give a fuck about anything else.
"Oh my god," Arthur says as Eames wraps his lips around the head of Arthur's cock, sinking down slowly in a heavenly tease. As Eames works up a steady rhythm, it's all Arthur can do not to push into that heat.
But then Eames palms Arthur's ass, and Arthur's hips buck forward involuntarily, his hand tightening in Eames' hair. Before he has time to worry about it, Eames moans encouragingly and pulls him forward. Arthur doesn't have to be told twice, and he finds himself muttering about how incredible Eames is as his head slowly clouds out everything but the fact that he's getting the best blowjob of his life.
He's so overcome with it, especially the fact that it's Eames that he doesn't think to say anything as he feels the buildup low in his spine that means he's about to come. He pushes into Eames' mouth one last time, and Eames widens his eyes and clutches at Arthur's hips, steady until Arthur comes down.
"Shit," Arthur says, realizing what he's just done. "I'm sorry."
"Why is everything you do so bloody hot?" Eames says roughly, standing and leaning in to devour Arthur's mouth.
Arthur makes a surprised noise into Eames' mouth, his face burning. He eases Eames back onto the bed without breaking their kiss, getting a hand on Eames' dick before he can get too caught up in feeling self-conscious. He fucks his tongue into Eames' mouth in rhythm with the movement of his hand until he has to pull away to catch his breath.
"Your tongue is just sinful," Eames says as he pushes into Arthur's fist.
Arthur smiles and nips at Eames' bottom lip. "Do you want me to suck you off?" he asks, moving his hand over Eames' cock and twisting his wrist at the last moment.
Eames gasps and arches his hips off the bed. "Is that a trick question?"
"I'm not as good as you," he warns, but he moves down Eames' body anyway.
"I think my body believes you can do no wrong, darling. I've walked out on a bloke before for not giving me warning." His fingers card into Arthur's hair as Arthur takes him into his mouth. "But when you did it, it was the sexiest bloody thing to happen to me in months."
Arthur appreciates the sentiment, but he really wants Eames to stop talking now. So when Eames says, "I think it's something to do with seeing you lose control--", he pulls up and curls his tongue around the head of Eames' cock before sliding back down, effectively shutting him up for the moment.
He doesn't do this fairly often, but he wants to make it good for Eames, so he concentrates and uses his hands to do what his mouth can't. Eames urges him on with half-uttered phrases and curse words, especially when Arthur reaches further to Eames' balls, teasing a finger further back until Eames gasps and pulls at his hair.
"Stop, Arthur," Eames cuts himself off with a shuddered breath. "Come here."
Arthur goes, hands taking over once more as Eames kisses him hungrily. Eames bites down hard on Arthur's lip when he comes, hips pumping in his release.
They're both breathing heavily, and Arthur doesn't want to move, so he wipes his hand on the corner of the sheet and vows to clean it first thing tomorrow. Eames shifts them both so Arthur can lay down and Eames can curl into his side, and it's nice except for the fact that Arthur can't stop thinking about his earlier indiscretion. Finally, he has to speak up.
"So that didn't go exactly as planned," Arthur mumbles, face hot.
Eames grins and bites down on Arthur's collarbone. "Night's not over yet, love."
Arthur's body isn't quite ready to react to that implication yet, but he has a feeling it won't be long. "And after tonight?"
"I imagine we'll have time then, too, so long as you can fit me into that busy schedule of yours."
Arthur lets out the breath he'd been holding slowly, hoping Eames won't notice.
No such luck. Eames studies his expression for several long moments before finally leaning in to press his lips against Arthur's. The kiss is slower, sweeter than any they shared earlier in the night, and it warms Arthur in an entirely different way.
Eames pulls away and nuzzles Arthur's neck as he murmurs, "I'm not going anywhere, Arthur."
"No, you're not," Arthur agrees. "I've got plans for you in about thirty minutes."
Eames huffs out a laugh and presses a kiss to Arthur's neck before propping up on his elbow to gaze down at him. He looks painfully earnest as he goes on to say, "Phone calls from you are the best part of my day. Just this past Wednesday, I was supposed to be doing my TA duties for a psychology lab, but when my phone rang, I told them I had a family emergency."
"Eames," Arthur says, exasperated and affectionate. "You can't just skip class every time I call. You can call me back."
Eames arches an eyebrow. "We both know that if I call during one of your designated study blocks, or whatever it is that you're doing, you will not only not answer the phone, but will bitch me out for calling twelve times."
"Twelve times, Eames!" Arthur defends. "I was in a meeting with my professor!"
"Well how was I to know that?" Eames shakes his head, looking frustrated with himself. "I've lost the point."
Arthur smirks at him. "Take your time."
Eames swats at his arm, muttering arse under his breath. He looks distant for a moment before his face brightens in an ah-ha expression. "My point was, I'm not going to give you up without a fight." He pauses, like he's deliberating over his words, and Arthur chooses to wait him out. "I'd been having some trouble, lately, missing home, and you strutted into my life right when I was about to say 'sod it' and drop out for a bit. I was actually planning on asking your advice on it over the phone, after the party."
"You were going to drop out?" Arthur repeats in disbelief. "But you love your classes."
"I know, I just. Get a bit restless sometimes. Yusuf knows all about it. I skipped a week and a half last spring to drive to Seattle. Bought a parka, took a picture of the Needle in the pouring rain, and then drove back."
Arthur nods. He's definitely felt that before, but always talked himself out of it in the name of responsibility. "There's just too much in the world to justify staying in one place for too long."
"Exactly," Eames says. "And then you contacted me, and I don't know. I was thinking of asking you where you lived, even though you'd been so hush-hush about it, and just coming to visit. I just had a feeling you didn't want to tell me."
"It wasn't that I--"
Eames cuts him off. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you sitting on that couch in Sylvia's apartment, all prim and proper in your suit. God, I knew it had to be you, but I still had to text you to be sure. I just--"
Now it's Arthur's turn to cut Eames off, this time with a kiss, showing that he's touched Eames would share this piece of himself.
Time passes as he asks Eames more about home and, in return, shares with Eames about his compulsive need to succeed, his devotion to a family who have never quite understood his goals. Eames leaves little caresses over Arthur's skin as he recounts the story, over his collarbone, neck, side. It's surprisingly effective in that it takes Arthur's mind off the negatives and helps him get to his point.
They're back to Eames' story now, and Arthur is attempting to employ the same method as Eames tells a story of the first time he broke into his father's liquor cabinet. Arthur is listening intently, but every time Eames mentions anything regarding his love of rule-breaking, Arthur bites at Eames' skin, until finally Eames says, "I am never going to finish this story if you keep distracting me like that."
"Oh, is that distracting?" Arthur asks without looking up. "How about this?" He swirls his tongue around Eames' nipple, sucking just for a moment.
Eames makes a pleased noise, and his hips buck forward, seemingly unconsciously. "Story time's over," Eames decides, pulling Arthur fully on top of him.
Arthur is completely on board with this decision, already half-hard from letting his mind wander as Eames' voice washed over him. Arthur captures Eames' lips in a kiss that quickly becomes filthy as Eames clutches at Arthur's ass and Arthur reaches down to fist their cocks together.
"Please tell me you're going to fuck me this time," Eames says through uneven breaths, making Arthur's cock jump in his hand.
"Roll over on your stomach," Arthur says, nudging Eames' hip.
Eames does, and Arthur takes a moment to appreciate the sight spread out before him. He traces his finger around the tattoos at Eames' lower back, then makes his way down, saying, "I want to make up for earlier."
Eames sighs. "Arthur, it's not--"
Eames' sentence gets choked off by the obscene gasp he utters when Arthur leans down and licks at the ring of muscle around his hole. Arthur uses his hands to spread Eames open and push his tongue in further.
"Jesus fucking Christ--" Eames shouts, pushing his ass back to invite Arthur in. "Arthur, your-- Fuck!"
Eames squirms his way into a better position, his legs spreading apart. Arthur hums his approval with his tongue pushed deep inside, causing Eames to reach down to palm his cock as he mutters incomprehensibly through staggered breaths. Arthur pulls back abruptly and guides Eames' hand away, saying decisively, "That's for me."
Eames lets out a shuddering breath. "Fuck yes it is."
Arthur uncaps the lube and pours a generous amount onto his fingers before slowly working Eames open. Once he seems comfortable enough with two fingers, Arthur repositions himself so he can edge his tongue in between them.
Eames' cursing gets louder and more creative as Arthur's fingers curl against his prostate and his tongue slides in alongside them.
"Arthur," Eames finally says, voice wavering. "Please."
Arthur's skin is thrumming as he urges Eames over onto his back. Eames strikes him as someone that doesn't come apart very often, and knowing that he's got him in such a state is a huge turn-on.
He edges his way into Eames as slowly as he can manage, Eames clutching at the sheets and staring back at him with dark eyes. When he can go no further, he concentrates on Eames' ragged breaths to get his mind off the need to move, now.
It feels like a lifetime later when Eames exhales slowly, then nods. Arthur praises whatever deities might be listening and moves.
"God, Eames," Arthur says, hands steady on Eames' hips, "you feel amazing."
Eames rocks his hips in such a way that causes them both to moan in sync with each other. "Fuck, Arthur," he gasps, "that's perfect, just-- Right there."
Arthur gets a hand around Eames' cock and pumps him in the rhythm of his thrusts. His movements are getting increasingly sporadic when Eames arches off the bed and comes, Arthur's name on his lips.
"Fuck," Arthur says with feeling, letting himself get lost in the sensation of Eames clenching down around him. Eames rolls his hips one more time, sending Arthur over the edge.
Arthur takes a moment to catch his breath, then moves away to dispose of the condom. Eames makes an unhappy noise and reaches for Arthur as he goes. "Where are you going?"
Arthur huffs a laugh, reaching for a towel and throwing it at Eames to clean up. "I'm coming back."
"Come back faster," Eames whines. He sits up to pull Arthur in for a kiss as soon as he nears the bed, and Arthur struggles to get into a comfortable position on top of Eames. "Mm," Eames hums against Arthur's mouth, "that's better."
Arthur smiles, allowing Eames to slide his tongue between his parted lips and deepen the kiss. It's slow and languid, Arthur curling his tongue lazily against Eames', a pleasant exhaustion settling in his muscles. "I'm never going to be rid of you, am I?"
Eames looks immensely pleased at this sarcastic question. "Never," he agrees.
Arthur ducks his head down to hide his ridiculous smile, pressing a kiss against Eames' neck to disguise the action. "Goodnight, Eames."
They will probably wake up immensely uncomfortable from trying to fit two people on a dorm bed all night, but as Eames curls his arm around Arthur's back and says, "Goodnight, darling," Arthur finds he doesn't care.
******
THURSDAY
11
NOV 2010
"No, Eames, I can't," Arthur hisses into his phone, turning his back to the closed door of his classroom and hoping his voice isn't carrying through. "I'm spending the entire afternoon studying with people for an econ test, and then I promised I'd go to the weekly group dinner with my friends, and then I have to spend the rest of the night doing the studying I couldn't get done in the meeting."
Eames is silent on the other end of the line. Arthur checks to make sure the call hasn't dropped, but he still has a full signal. Finally, Eames speaks up. "You should go back to your class."
Arthur's stomach twists uncomfortably at Eames' quiet, somber tone. "Eames, I don't--"
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he says before hanging up.
Arthur makes a frustrated noise, running his hand through his hair, and glares at a freshman who gives him a worried look as she walks by.
His entire afternoon is fraught with stress and frustration, especially after Eames responds to a text message with "u should be studying". He finally has to take a five minute break from his study group to call Ariadne and vent.
"And on top of it all, now Eames is angry with me because I didn't make time for him, even though I don't know if I'm going to have time to sleep tonight--"
"Arthur," Ariadne cuts in politely. "Take a deep breath."
Arthur does, exhaling slowly through his nose.
"Good, now listen to me. You always freak out before these econ tests, and you always do well in the end because you devote more than enough time to learning the material. And Eames wasn't around for the saga that was your last econ test, so he doesn't know. He might be put out about it right now, but he'll get over it, and next time you can warn him in advance that you have a huge, stressful exam coming up."
Arthur takes another deep breath, willing himself to believe her. "It's just so hard to concentrate, knowing that if I hadn't fucked up, he'd be texting me stupid motivational quotes or distracting stories about his classmates to cheer me up."
Ariadne makes a sympathetic noise. "You'll have plenty of time to work things out with him once your test is over. Don't beat yourself up over it right now."
"I'll do my best." Arthur sighs and checks his watch. "I've really gotta get back to it, Ariadne, but thank you."
The rest of the afternoon goes by a little easier, and Arthur puts his phone on silent so that he'll stop wondering if he's just missed a text message alert. He feels worn out by the time he starts making his way to dinner, and when he runs into Ariadne's roommate on the walk over, this is the first thing that she points out.
"I'm having a rough day," he admits, rubbing at his tired eyes in the hopes that it will somehow wake them up. He'll definitely be drinking coffee with dinner.
She loops her arm through his as they walk, asking, "Anything you want to talk about?"
He gives her a small smile. "Just class stress, mostly. And in the midst of it all, I managed to piss off Eames as well."
"Your internet boyfriend?" she asks, and Arthur nods. "Oh, I'm sure he'll forgive you. From what I hear, he thinks you can do no wrong."
Arthur blushes, associating the phrase with an entirely different set of events, but he pushes it from his mind as they reach the cafeteria. He stops short when he sees their usual table, full of all the usual people... plus Eames.
He faintly hears Ariadne's roommate explaining, "Ariadne called him," but his focus is drawn in to where Eames has looked up from the table and is beaming in his direction.
"Arthur!" Eames calls as they near the table. "Your delightful friends were just telling me the story of all they learned about me in the past several weeks."
Arthur should feel embarrassed, but Eames' eyes are dancing and it makes something lift in Arthur's chest. "You told him about 'internet boyfriend', didn't you?" he accuses. No one owns up to it, but their silence and Eames' smile are answer enough. "In my defense, I didn't come up with the term."
Eames makes a dismissive noise, pulling Arthur's chair closer after he sits. "I'm happy to play the role of your internet boyfriend, love."
Arthur's friends aww at them, and Arthur shoots them a look that makes them all go back to their own conversations. He takes Eames' hand in his own and quietly says, "I'm sorry."
Eames squeezes his hand, shaking his head. "Ariadne explained the situation. You worry too much, Arthur."
Arthur steals a french fry from Eames' plate. "A healthy dose of concern prevents me from making the same stupid mistakes over again."
"And here I thought I was helping by leaving you alone to study all day. Now that I know the truth, I'll be texting you non-stop whenever you have a big exam looming."
Arthur makes a pained noise. "Please don't."
"Oh, it's too late to take it back now," Eames contradicts. "I know your secret."
"I have to go get food," Arthur mutters darkly, standing up. Ariadne shoots him a wink as he goes, and Eames holds onto his hand until he moves far enough away to force him to let go. Arthur pretends that he's sick of them both.
For an hour after dinner, Eames camps out on Arthur's bed, staying mercifully quiet as he reads a book. Arthur's eyes start going crossed as he reads over his notes a third time, and then his phone beeps a text message alert.
Eames:
fancy a break? ;)
"You are an insufferable dork," he tells Eames as he straddles him on the bed.
"You love it," Eames says just before Arthur captures his mouth. They make out lazily for several minutes before Arthur pulls himself away reluctantly.
Around midnight, Arthur startles when Eames presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "I'm heading back for the night, darling," he murmurs. "Give me a call when your test is over tomorrow, and I'll come over."
Arthur makes a noise of protest, twisting around in his chair to face Eames. "Don't you have class until 4 tomorrow?"
Eames shrugs and looks at least a bit sheepish at Arthur's glare.
"I guess I'll just have to come to you," Arthur says decisively.
"I suppose, if you must," Eames says, pressing his smiling mouth to Arthur's in one last kiss goodnight.
******
??DAY
??
NOV 2010
Arthur reaches blindly for his phone when its alarm goes off early in the morning. Eames groans, discontent as he shifts against Arthur. The chill of the room bites against Arthur's skin, so he slips out of bed long enough to switch his heater on and then crawl back under the covers, fitting himself against Eames.
Eames' eyes blink open in surprise. "What's going on?" he mumbles in sleepy confusion.
"Nothing. Go back to sleep," Arthur says as he tangles his legs with Eames' in an attempt to soak up his warmth.
"Wasn't that your alarm I just heard?"
Arthur picks up his phone and holds it in his hand. "It was."
Eames stares at him in disbelief. "Don't you have plans?"
Arthur mentally flips through the things he knows are written in his planner and quickly dismisses them all. He silences his phone and then looks at Eames. "They can wait."
Eames smiles like Christmas has come early and pulls Arthur close to kiss him sweetly. "First thing I'm going to do when we wake up is write EAMES in big letters across your planner for today."
"Don't you dare," Arthur says without conviction, smile lingering on his face as he slips back to sleep.
THE END
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FRIDAY
5
NOV 2010
Arthur arrives at the Beat Kitchen early, hiding out in the bar and hoping that Yusuf makes good on his promise to get Eames here. He texted Eames on his way here to say that he was meeting a study group at 6:30 (half an hour before the concert starts), so Eames won't be expecting to hear from him for a while.
When Eames arrives, about 10 minutes before doors are meant to open, he heads straight for the bar, just as Arthur had hoped. Arthur waves at the bartender and points Eames out, and luckily she's competent enough to remember their earlier conversation and not tell Eames who sent the drink.
Arthur is careful to enter the main room of the venue behind Eames, standing off to the side during the first opener. He doesn't miss Eames checking his phone between songs, and his fingers itch to text him, just to say hi. Still, he's happy to see the first band go off stage.
When the band they're here to see comes on, Eames makes an idiot of himself, enjoying it. Arthur waits until their first song is fading out and uses the opportunity to slide up behind Eames while he's busy screaming and clapping in appreciation.
He announces his presence with hands on hips, fitting himself against Eames and smiling when his actions cut off Eames' antics abruptly.
"You may have been right about them," Arthur says against Eames' ear. "If the rest of their set is as good as that song, we might have even more in common."
Eames has relaxed from a back-off-stranger type of tense to a much more thrilling type of tense. Arthur lets his lips graze the shell of his ear as he murmurs, "Good to see you again."
"You told me you were staying in to study tonight," Eames accuses. He doesn't turn around, but he leans into Arthur's embrace just slightly.
The band starts up their next song, drowning out Arthur's reply. Eames turns, then, and Arthur smirks as he leans in and repeats, "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."
"You planned this?"
"Come on, Eames. What are the odds we would meet by chance that many times?"
Arthur keeps one arm stretched across Eames' back as he moves to stand beside him, grabbing the beer from his hand and taking a swig. Eames protests, but then Arthur points out that he paid for it.
"Oh, that was you?" Eames asks, looking back toward the bar.
"Don't sound so disappointed," Arthur says with a smirk, handing back Eames' drink. He marvels at how much easier this is this time. He doesn't even feel self-conscious about the PDA, because everything about Eames' body language says he is loving it.
"No," Eames insists, "it's just I thought the bartender was hitting on me. She probably thinks I'm a pig."
"You are a pig, Eames. It's better for her if she knows it now."
Eames peers at him as the song ends. "You're not drunk, are you?"
It's more curiosity than accusation, but Arthur's eyes still narrow, and he drops his arm from Eames' back.
"Oh, don't be like that," Eames says with a smile, bumping his shoulder against Arthur's. "We've only just met for the second time; how am I to know how you act when drunk?"
Arthur purses his lips and lets it go, but he doesn't put his arm back.
Eames doesn't seem too bothered, especially when his favorite song comes on next. He gestures wildly with his beer and, before long, encourages Arthur to join him in what Arthur supposes he would call a dance. After that, Arthur is too busy laughing to stay angry, and he even forgets why he was offended in the first place.
They play a couple more songs, but they're only the second opener so their next song will be their last for tonight.
The song is a slow one, and Arthur thinks that's a strange choice after such an upbeat set. Eames smirks at him and leans close to say, "I can feel your judgment from here."
Arthur is still trying to side whether to defend himself when Eames says, "You've never heard this song before, have you?"
The drum beat slows and drops, then the vocals cut out simultaneously with the guitar. There is a beat, then someone disrupts the sudden silence with a loud cheer as the band tears into an energetic remix of what they were just playing. Arthur raises his eyebrows, impressed, and can see Eames laughing at him from the corner of his eye.
After a few minutes of cheering obnoxiously, even after the band says their final 'thank you's, Eames goes to throw his beer away. Arthur follows him and, after the bottle falls into the trashcan with a loud clang, Eames whirls around and nearly knocks Arthur over.
Luckily, catching Eames by surprise had been Arthur's plan all along. He puts his hands on Eames shoulders to guide him back against the wall.
"Hello," Eames says happily, looking a bit disoriented.
Arthur only smirks before tilting his head and bringing their lips together.
Eames responds instantly, cupping a hand around Arthur's neck and pulling him closer. Arthur nips at Eames' bottom lip until he opens his mouth, allowing Arthur in. Arthur fists a hand in the cloth of Eames' shirt as Eames moans into his mouth. He resists the impulse to let his hands roam, but he can feel his skin heating up and finally forces himself to pull back. "We should go."
Eames makes a whining noise, breathing heavily, and his hand tightens on Arthur's neck. Arthur's resolve dies out quickly as Eames pulls him in, though, and they pick up where they left off.
Eames is a very thorough kisser. Arthur lets out little gasps every time Eames curls his tongue a certain way, sending spikes of pleasure down Arthur's spine. Almost unconsciously, he finds his hands migrating under Eames' shirt at the back, sliding over smooth skin and then down, dipping below the hem of his jeans until his fingers are resting just above the swell of Eames' ass.
Now it's Arthur's turn to whine as Eames pulls away with a jerk of his head, saying, "Right. Somewhere less public?"
"Preferably with a bed," Arthur agrees, enraptured as Eames licks his lips.
"Oh, Arthur. Where's your sense of adventure?" Eames responds, waggling his eyebrows.
It takes Arthur a moment to feel composed enough to step out of the shadows and walk out of there, but he does so, tugging Eames along behind him by his wrist.
Arthur feels anxious as they wait at the bus stop, cursing this venue under his breath for being in the middle of fucking nowhere. Eames hears him and laughs, moving to wrap his arms around Arthur from behind, his chin resting on Arthur's shoulder. Some girls just entering the venue across the street give the two of them a weird look, so Arthur leans into Eames' embrace and casually flips them off.
Eames' lips brush the back of his ear as he says, "I much prefer when you're confident like this, darling."
Arthur refuses to feel residual embarrassment for last weekend, so he smirks and replies, "You just want to get laid."
Eames nips at the shell of Arthur's ear and, at Arthur's sharp intake of breath, murmurs, "I'm not the only one."
Arthur elbows him in the side for that one, but he's still smiling.
On the bus, Eames rests a hand on Arthur's knee, and Arthur turns to study his expression. "This is okay," he says, not making it sound like a question even though it is one.
Eames looks at him in disbelief, licking his lips absently. "If I did not make myself abundantly clear at the venue, I can re-enforce my point right now. I should warn you, though, that it will probably get us kicked off this bus."
His hand slides further up Arthur's leg, and Arthur reaches down quickly to stop him, swallowing thickly. "I just meant," he begins, then has to stop and clear his throat so his voice won't sound so rough. "We've only known each other two weeks, plus a 2-hour Omegle conversation."
Eames raises his eyebrows. "Darling, I would apologize for moving too fast, but you're the one who invited me to your place."
Arthur rolls his eyes. "It just seems like it's been longer than that, to me." He's still not sure what his point is, but Eames nods.
"I know what you mean," he says, pulling out his phone. "I had to buy a replacement battery for this thing."
Arthur feels his mouth quirk up into a smile. "I had to upgrade my text messaging."
The awkward moment passes, and they go on to talk about other things, like Arthur's clothing choices and Eames' obsession with Xbox. They get so wrapped up in a conversation about modern literature and its audience that Arthur is taken by complete surprise when Eames stops mid-sentence and looks out the windows.
"What?"
"You'll have to forgive me. I've only been to your campus a handful of times. But was that not our stop?"
Arthur glances back at the street they just passed. "Oh."
Eames laughs at him, and he feels the need to defend, "Well, I like to go to the 24-hour Starbucks after concerts."
Eames' eyes light up at that, so Arthur goes on to add, "We can stop by before going back to campus? To be honest, I could use the caffeine."
"Mm," Eames agrees. "Gotta have the energy for when I keep you up all night."
Arthur makes a noise of dissent. "I intend to sleep through the night," he corrects, "and you'll be so well-fucked that you'll do the same."
Eames' eyes go slightly unfocused and his mouth falls open just a bit. Arthur has to look away so he won't lean in and claim that mouth.
After Eames has a few moments to collect his thoughts, he continues his sentence from before the missed stop, as if he'd never been interrupted. Arthur picks up his part of the conversation, smiling in satisfaction that he managed to distract Eames this once.
******
"I know it's not exactly Chicago winter outside yet," Arthur says as they pick up their drinks, "but isn't it a bit cold for a Frappuccino?"
"Well I don't drink coffee," Eames says, popping the lid off and sticking a straw into the whipped cream. "Besides, I haven't had one of these in months."
"That's because months ago, it was hot enough outside to merit one."
As they approach the bus stop, Eames sucks on his straw obscenely and utters a moan that implies his drink is heavenly. Arthur feels any past trains of thought derail abruptly. Eames has a stray bit of whipped cream on his upper lip which he licks away slowly, then catches Arthur's eye to reveal that he knew Arthur was watching.
"My kingdom to hear what's on your mind right now," Eames says quietly with an impish grin.
Arthur glances around at the others waiting for the bus. No one seems to be paying them any attention, so he steps up close to Eames and whispers in his ear.
"I want your mouth on my cock," he says confidentially. Eames shivers, and he doesn't think it's from the Frappuccino. "Then I want to fuck my tongue into your mouth while I work you open, until you're begging for me to pin you down and fuck you properly." Eames swallows thickly, and Arthur continues, "What do you think of that?"
"Where the fuck is this fucking bus?" Eames says, his voice a bit rough as he speaks up. Arthur smirks and takes a step back, sipping his pumpkin spice latte. Eames looks at him like he's thinking of jumping him right here, and Arthur forgets for a moment why that would be a bad idea.
Back on the bus, Eames is even more worked up. He bounces his leg the entire time and drums his fingers on the armrest whenever they're stopped.
"You do know that you can't make it go faster just by the power of your mind, right?"
"You can't say that for sure, darling," Eames says, grabbing Arthur's hand that's not holding his latte and squeezing. He leans closer, his breath warm against Arthur's neck as he says, "You're going to look so gorgeous, calling out my name, pulling at my hair, while I let you fuck my mouth."
Arthur blinks, slowly. "This bus needs to move faster."
"Now you're getting it," Eames says with a grin.
******
Eames gets Arthur pressed up against his door before he even has a chance to put his key away, and Arthur immediately drops the key to the floor so that he has full use of his hands. He hauls Eames close to deepen the kiss, moaning when Eames pushes his hand against Arthur's cock through his clothes.
"Such a bloody tease," Eames mumbles against Arthur's mouth with a smile. He moves his hand away to slide under Arthur's shirt, and Arthur would say now who's the tease? if he wasn't preoccupied with sucking a mark into Eames neck.
Eames feels so good pressed up against him, but Arthur wants more. He slides his hands over Eames' ass and pulls him that much closer so that their hips line up perfectly. Eames makes a keening noise, head tilted back, and Arthur uses the moment to start getting rid of clothing.
He tugs at the hem of Eames' shirt, and Eames helps him guide it over his head.
"Oh," Arthur says, fingers tracing reverently over Eames' tattoos. "I didn't realize you had so many."
"I'll tell you all about them some time," Eames promises, hands pulling at Arthur's sweater. He makes a disgruntled noise once he gets it off, fingers working at the buttons of Arthur's shirt. "Jesus, Arthur. Why are you wearing so many layers?"
Before long, their clothes are scattered on Arthur's floor. Normally that would bother Arthur, but right now Eames is sinking down to his knees and Arthur doesn't give a fuck about anything else.
"Oh my god," Arthur says as Eames wraps his lips around the head of Arthur's cock, sinking down slowly in a heavenly tease. As Eames works up a steady rhythm, it's all Arthur can do not to push into that heat.
But then Eames palms Arthur's ass, and Arthur's hips buck forward involuntarily, his hand tightening in Eames' hair. Before he has time to worry about it, Eames moans encouragingly and pulls him forward. Arthur doesn't have to be told twice, and he finds himself muttering about how incredible Eames is as his head slowly clouds out everything but the fact that he's getting the best blowjob of his life.
He's so overcome with it, especially the fact that it's Eames that he doesn't think to say anything as he feels the buildup low in his spine that means he's about to come. He pushes into Eames' mouth one last time, and Eames widens his eyes and clutches at Arthur's hips, steady until Arthur comes down.
"Shit," Arthur says, realizing what he's just done. "I'm sorry."
"Why is everything you do so bloody hot?" Eames says roughly, standing and leaning in to devour Arthur's mouth.
Arthur makes a surprised noise into Eames' mouth, his face burning. He eases Eames back onto the bed without breaking their kiss, getting a hand on Eames' dick before he can get too caught up in feeling self-conscious. He fucks his tongue into Eames' mouth in rhythm with the movement of his hand until he has to pull away to catch his breath.
"Your tongue is just sinful," Eames says as he pushes into Arthur's fist.
Arthur smiles and nips at Eames' bottom lip. "Do you want me to suck you off?" he asks, moving his hand over Eames' cock and twisting his wrist at the last moment.
Eames gasps and arches his hips off the bed. "Is that a trick question?"
"I'm not as good as you," he warns, but he moves down Eames' body anyway.
"I think my body believes you can do no wrong, darling. I've walked out on a bloke before for not giving me warning." His fingers card into Arthur's hair as Arthur takes him into his mouth. "But when you did it, it was the sexiest bloody thing to happen to me in months."
Arthur appreciates the sentiment, but he really wants Eames to stop talking now. So when Eames says, "I think it's something to do with seeing you lose control--", he pulls up and curls his tongue around the head of Eames' cock before sliding back down, effectively shutting him up for the moment.
He doesn't do this fairly often, but he wants to make it good for Eames, so he concentrates and uses his hands to do what his mouth can't. Eames urges him on with half-uttered phrases and curse words, especially when Arthur reaches further to Eames' balls, teasing a finger further back until Eames gasps and pulls at his hair.
"Stop, Arthur," Eames cuts himself off with a shuddered breath. "Come here."
Arthur goes, hands taking over once more as Eames kisses him hungrily. Eames bites down hard on Arthur's lip when he comes, hips pumping in his release.
They're both breathing heavily, and Arthur doesn't want to move, so he wipes his hand on the corner of the sheet and vows to clean it first thing tomorrow. Eames shifts them both so Arthur can lay down and Eames can curl into his side, and it's nice except for the fact that Arthur can't stop thinking about his earlier indiscretion. Finally, he has to speak up.
"So that didn't go exactly as planned," Arthur mumbles, face hot.
Eames grins and bites down on Arthur's collarbone. "Night's not over yet, love."
Arthur's body isn't quite ready to react to that implication yet, but he has a feeling it won't be long. "And after tonight?"
"I imagine we'll have time then, too, so long as you can fit me into that busy schedule of yours."
Arthur lets out the breath he'd been holding slowly, hoping Eames won't notice.
No such luck. Eames studies his expression for several long moments before finally leaning in to press his lips against Arthur's. The kiss is slower, sweeter than any they shared earlier in the night, and it warms Arthur in an entirely different way.
Eames pulls away and nuzzles Arthur's neck as he murmurs, "I'm not going anywhere, Arthur."
"No, you're not," Arthur agrees. "I've got plans for you in about thirty minutes."
Eames huffs out a laugh and presses a kiss to Arthur's neck before propping up on his elbow to gaze down at him. He looks painfully earnest as he goes on to say, "Phone calls from you are the best part of my day. Just this past Wednesday, I was supposed to be doing my TA duties for a psychology lab, but when my phone rang, I told them I had a family emergency."
"Eames," Arthur says, exasperated and affectionate. "You can't just skip class every time I call. You can call me back."
Eames arches an eyebrow. "We both know that if I call during one of your designated study blocks, or whatever it is that you're doing, you will not only not answer the phone, but will bitch me out for calling twelve times."
"Twelve times, Eames!" Arthur defends. "I was in a meeting with my professor!"
"Well how was I to know that?" Eames shakes his head, looking frustrated with himself. "I've lost the point."
Arthur smirks at him. "Take your time."
Eames swats at his arm, muttering arse under his breath. He looks distant for a moment before his face brightens in an ah-ha expression. "My point was, I'm not going to give you up without a fight." He pauses, like he's deliberating over his words, and Arthur chooses to wait him out. "I'd been having some trouble, lately, missing home, and you strutted into my life right when I was about to say 'sod it' and drop out for a bit. I was actually planning on asking your advice on it over the phone, after the party."
"You were going to drop out?" Arthur repeats in disbelief. "But you love your classes."
"I know, I just. Get a bit restless sometimes. Yusuf knows all about it. I skipped a week and a half last spring to drive to Seattle. Bought a parka, took a picture of the Needle in the pouring rain, and then drove back."
Arthur nods. He's definitely felt that before, but always talked himself out of it in the name of responsibility. "There's just too much in the world to justify staying in one place for too long."
"Exactly," Eames says. "And then you contacted me, and I don't know. I was thinking of asking you where you lived, even though you'd been so hush-hush about it, and just coming to visit. I just had a feeling you didn't want to tell me."
"It wasn't that I--"
Eames cuts him off. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you sitting on that couch in Sylvia's apartment, all prim and proper in your suit. God, I knew it had to be you, but I still had to text you to be sure. I just--"
Now it's Arthur's turn to cut Eames off, this time with a kiss, showing that he's touched Eames would share this piece of himself.
Time passes as he asks Eames more about home and, in return, shares with Eames about his compulsive need to succeed, his devotion to a family who have never quite understood his goals. Eames leaves little caresses over Arthur's skin as he recounts the story, over his collarbone, neck, side. It's surprisingly effective in that it takes Arthur's mind off the negatives and helps him get to his point.
They're back to Eames' story now, and Arthur is attempting to employ the same method as Eames tells a story of the first time he broke into his father's liquor cabinet. Arthur is listening intently, but every time Eames mentions anything regarding his love of rule-breaking, Arthur bites at Eames' skin, until finally Eames says, "I am never going to finish this story if you keep distracting me like that."
"Oh, is that distracting?" Arthur asks without looking up. "How about this?" He swirls his tongue around Eames' nipple, sucking just for a moment.
Eames makes a pleased noise, and his hips buck forward, seemingly unconsciously. "Story time's over," Eames decides, pulling Arthur fully on top of him.
Arthur is completely on board with this decision, already half-hard from letting his mind wander as Eames' voice washed over him. Arthur captures Eames' lips in a kiss that quickly becomes filthy as Eames clutches at Arthur's ass and Arthur reaches down to fist their cocks together.
"Please tell me you're going to fuck me this time," Eames says through uneven breaths, making Arthur's cock jump in his hand.
"Roll over on your stomach," Arthur says, nudging Eames' hip.
Eames does, and Arthur takes a moment to appreciate the sight spread out before him. He traces his finger around the tattoos at Eames' lower back, then makes his way down, saying, "I want to make up for earlier."
Eames sighs. "Arthur, it's not--"
Eames' sentence gets choked off by the obscene gasp he utters when Arthur leans down and licks at the ring of muscle around his hole. Arthur uses his hands to spread Eames open and push his tongue in further.
"Jesus fucking Christ--" Eames shouts, pushing his ass back to invite Arthur in. "Arthur, your-- Fuck!"
Eames squirms his way into a better position, his legs spreading apart. Arthur hums his approval with his tongue pushed deep inside, causing Eames to reach down to palm his cock as he mutters incomprehensibly through staggered breaths. Arthur pulls back abruptly and guides Eames' hand away, saying decisively, "That's for me."
Eames lets out a shuddering breath. "Fuck yes it is."
Arthur uncaps the lube and pours a generous amount onto his fingers before slowly working Eames open. Once he seems comfortable enough with two fingers, Arthur repositions himself so he can edge his tongue in between them.
Eames' cursing gets louder and more creative as Arthur's fingers curl against his prostate and his tongue slides in alongside them.
"Arthur," Eames finally says, voice wavering. "Please."
Arthur's skin is thrumming as he urges Eames over onto his back. Eames strikes him as someone that doesn't come apart very often, and knowing that he's got him in such a state is a huge turn-on.
He edges his way into Eames as slowly as he can manage, Eames clutching at the sheets and staring back at him with dark eyes. When he can go no further, he concentrates on Eames' ragged breaths to get his mind off the need to move, now.
It feels like a lifetime later when Eames exhales slowly, then nods. Arthur praises whatever deities might be listening and moves.
"God, Eames," Arthur says, hands steady on Eames' hips, "you feel amazing."
Eames rocks his hips in such a way that causes them both to moan in sync with each other. "Fuck, Arthur," he gasps, "that's perfect, just-- Right there."
Arthur gets a hand around Eames' cock and pumps him in the rhythm of his thrusts. His movements are getting increasingly sporadic when Eames arches off the bed and comes, Arthur's name on his lips.
"Fuck," Arthur says with feeling, letting himself get lost in the sensation of Eames clenching down around him. Eames rolls his hips one more time, sending Arthur over the edge.
Arthur takes a moment to catch his breath, then moves away to dispose of the condom. Eames makes an unhappy noise and reaches for Arthur as he goes. "Where are you going?"
Arthur huffs a laugh, reaching for a towel and throwing it at Eames to clean up. "I'm coming back."
"Come back faster," Eames whines. He sits up to pull Arthur in for a kiss as soon as he nears the bed, and Arthur struggles to get into a comfortable position on top of Eames. "Mm," Eames hums against Arthur's mouth, "that's better."
Arthur smiles, allowing Eames to slide his tongue between his parted lips and deepen the kiss. It's slow and languid, Arthur curling his tongue lazily against Eames', a pleasant exhaustion settling in his muscles. "I'm never going to be rid of you, am I?"
Eames looks immensely pleased at this sarcastic question. "Never," he agrees.
Arthur ducks his head down to hide his ridiculous smile, pressing a kiss against Eames' neck to disguise the action. "Goodnight, Eames."
They will probably wake up immensely uncomfortable from trying to fit two people on a dorm bed all night, but as Eames curls his arm around Arthur's back and says, "Goodnight, darling," Arthur finds he doesn't care.
******
THURSDAY
11
NOV 2010
"No, Eames, I can't," Arthur hisses into his phone, turning his back to the closed door of his classroom and hoping his voice isn't carrying through. "I'm spending the entire afternoon studying with people for an econ test, and then I promised I'd go to the weekly group dinner with my friends, and then I have to spend the rest of the night doing the studying I couldn't get done in the meeting."
Eames is silent on the other end of the line. Arthur checks to make sure the call hasn't dropped, but he still has a full signal. Finally, Eames speaks up. "You should go back to your class."
Arthur's stomach twists uncomfortably at Eames' quiet, somber tone. "Eames, I don't--"
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he says before hanging up.
Arthur makes a frustrated noise, running his hand through his hair, and glares at a freshman who gives him a worried look as she walks by.
His entire afternoon is fraught with stress and frustration, especially after Eames responds to a text message with "u should be studying". He finally has to take a five minute break from his study group to call Ariadne and vent.
"And on top of it all, now Eames is angry with me because I didn't make time for him, even though I don't know if I'm going to have time to sleep tonight--"
"Arthur," Ariadne cuts in politely. "Take a deep breath."
Arthur does, exhaling slowly through his nose.
"Good, now listen to me. You always freak out before these econ tests, and you always do well in the end because you devote more than enough time to learning the material. And Eames wasn't around for the saga that was your last econ test, so he doesn't know. He might be put out about it right now, but he'll get over it, and next time you can warn him in advance that you have a huge, stressful exam coming up."
Arthur takes another deep breath, willing himself to believe her. "It's just so hard to concentrate, knowing that if I hadn't fucked up, he'd be texting me stupid motivational quotes or distracting stories about his classmates to cheer me up."
Ariadne makes a sympathetic noise. "You'll have plenty of time to work things out with him once your test is over. Don't beat yourself up over it right now."
"I'll do my best." Arthur sighs and checks his watch. "I've really gotta get back to it, Ariadne, but thank you."
The rest of the afternoon goes by a little easier, and Arthur puts his phone on silent so that he'll stop wondering if he's just missed a text message alert. He feels worn out by the time he starts making his way to dinner, and when he runs into Ariadne's roommate on the walk over, this is the first thing that she points out.
"I'm having a rough day," he admits, rubbing at his tired eyes in the hopes that it will somehow wake them up. He'll definitely be drinking coffee with dinner.
She loops her arm through his as they walk, asking, "Anything you want to talk about?"
He gives her a small smile. "Just class stress, mostly. And in the midst of it all, I managed to piss off Eames as well."
"Your internet boyfriend?" she asks, and Arthur nods. "Oh, I'm sure he'll forgive you. From what I hear, he thinks you can do no wrong."
Arthur blushes, associating the phrase with an entirely different set of events, but he pushes it from his mind as they reach the cafeteria. He stops short when he sees their usual table, full of all the usual people... plus Eames.
He faintly hears Ariadne's roommate explaining, "Ariadne called him," but his focus is drawn in to where Eames has looked up from the table and is beaming in his direction.
"Arthur!" Eames calls as they near the table. "Your delightful friends were just telling me the story of all they learned about me in the past several weeks."
Arthur should feel embarrassed, but Eames' eyes are dancing and it makes something lift in Arthur's chest. "You told him about 'internet boyfriend', didn't you?" he accuses. No one owns up to it, but their silence and Eames' smile are answer enough. "In my defense, I didn't come up with the term."
Eames makes a dismissive noise, pulling Arthur's chair closer after he sits. "I'm happy to play the role of your internet boyfriend, love."
Arthur's friends aww at them, and Arthur shoots them a look that makes them all go back to their own conversations. He takes Eames' hand in his own and quietly says, "I'm sorry."
Eames squeezes his hand, shaking his head. "Ariadne explained the situation. You worry too much, Arthur."
Arthur steals a french fry from Eames' plate. "A healthy dose of concern prevents me from making the same stupid mistakes over again."
"And here I thought I was helping by leaving you alone to study all day. Now that I know the truth, I'll be texting you non-stop whenever you have a big exam looming."
Arthur makes a pained noise. "Please don't."
"Oh, it's too late to take it back now," Eames contradicts. "I know your secret."
"I have to go get food," Arthur mutters darkly, standing up. Ariadne shoots him a wink as he goes, and Eames holds onto his hand until he moves far enough away to force him to let go. Arthur pretends that he's sick of them both.
For an hour after dinner, Eames camps out on Arthur's bed, staying mercifully quiet as he reads a book. Arthur's eyes start going crossed as he reads over his notes a third time, and then his phone beeps a text message alert.
Eames:
fancy a break? ;)
"You are an insufferable dork," he tells Eames as he straddles him on the bed.
"You love it," Eames says just before Arthur captures his mouth. They make out lazily for several minutes before Arthur pulls himself away reluctantly.
Around midnight, Arthur startles when Eames presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "I'm heading back for the night, darling," he murmurs. "Give me a call when your test is over tomorrow, and I'll come over."
Arthur makes a noise of protest, twisting around in his chair to face Eames. "Don't you have class until 4 tomorrow?"
Eames shrugs and looks at least a bit sheepish at Arthur's glare.
"I guess I'll just have to come to you," Arthur says decisively.
"I suppose, if you must," Eames says, pressing his smiling mouth to Arthur's in one last kiss goodnight.
******
??DAY
??
NOV 2010
Arthur reaches blindly for his phone when its alarm goes off early in the morning. Eames groans, discontent as he shifts against Arthur. The chill of the room bites against Arthur's skin, so he slips out of bed long enough to switch his heater on and then crawl back under the covers, fitting himself against Eames.
Eames' eyes blink open in surprise. "What's going on?" he mumbles in sleepy confusion.
"Nothing. Go back to sleep," Arthur says as he tangles his legs with Eames' in an attempt to soak up his warmth.
"Wasn't that your alarm I just heard?"
Arthur picks up his phone and holds it in his hand. "It was."
Eames stares at him in disbelief. "Don't you have plans?"
Arthur mentally flips through the things he knows are written in his planner and quickly dismisses them all. He silences his phone and then looks at Eames. "They can wait."
Eames smiles like Christmas has come early and pulls Arthur close to kiss him sweetly. "First thing I'm going to do when we wake up is write EAMES in big letters across your planner for today."
"Don't you dare," Arthur says without conviction, smile lingering on his face as he slips back to sleep.
THE END
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Additional ficlets in this 'verse:
- merry xmas, r u there?, a Christmas ficlet.
- What are you doing New Year's?, set on New Year's Eve.
- More coming soon!