It began in Paris. Of course it began in Paris. The City of Lights was the ideal place for an unexpected romance to occur.

Opposite to what the dreamshare community at large thought, Arthur met Eames first, not Cobb. Before Eames, Arthur knew Mal, and that was how they met. Arthur walked into the studio they were using for the job--Arthur's ( Read more... )

Eames was reading when Cobb came to visit him next. Old Yeller was always a classic. The guard very rudely told him to get up and “move his ass” along to the private room where Cobb was waiting. Americans, seriously.

Cobb was on the other side of the gate as Eames approached, standing beside a tall and slender young man with dark hair. Eames ( Read more... )

Chicago City Penitentiary wasn't the most hospitable of prisons, but Eames had been in worse. Bolivia, for example; that had not been fun. At least here he got three edible meals a day, a bed, and temperatures above forty degrees. Bolivia had been a dungeon; seriously, who had those anymore?

He still wasn't entirely clear on how he had ended up here ( Read more... )

He tried not to notice, he really did. It was difficult when they shared a room, though. Arthur would lay on his bed and read, his long and lean form stretched out, pert ass in perfect view and his shirt riding up his back slightly, revealing a strip of smooth skin. After a shower, his dark hair would curl around his ears and nape, leaving droplets ( Read more... )

When Arthur was seven, he met Eames. Arthur had lived in Chicago City Boy's Home for as long as he could remember. He called the headmistress “mama.” That endearment allowed him to get away with a lot more than other kids.

Eames was ten, and had just lost his parents in a car accident.

The Headmistress brought him in with a hand on his shoulder ( Read more... )

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