Professionalism is Overrated (Arthur/Eames)
Title: Professionalism is Overrated
Author: zoetrope13
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Words: 2,764
Fandom: Inception
Warnings: Unbeta'ed
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, nor do I claim to.
Summary: Eames makes his affections more than subtle and Arthur refuses to pursue anything because he wants stay professional. It makes Eames even more ambitious making Arthur very sexually frustrated/conflicted. Written for this prompt on the Inception Kink Meme.
Arthur stifled a yawn. He couldn’t wait to get his room key; they’d had a brutal day followed by a night of flying. He rolled his shoulders. Suddenly large warm hands were on his shoulders, stilling them, thumbs working into the knotted muscle.
“Tense, love?” Arthur could feel the warm breath of the speaker against his ear. He shrugged his shoulders, hoping to dislodge the hands.
“Unhand me Eames.”
“Don’t think I can’t feel the way you relax under my hands.” He leaned forward again, so his mouth was right at Arthur’s ear. “Would love to feel all of your body under my hands. Don’t worry, darling, I’d be gentle…tonight at least.”
Thankfully the concierge chose that moment to bring Arthur his key card, saving Arthur from having to respond. He leaned forward to pick up his bag, but was pulled back in his seat.
“Well, it’s been lovely, Eames, but I really must be going now.” Sarcasm dipped from his words.
“There’s no reason that we have to go to separate rooms,” Eames said, scuffing his shoe against the earth toned carpeting, looking almost coyly at Arthur.
“Yes, there is. The instant I get in that room I am going to sleep. And you can’t come with me because I don’t trust you to not molest me in my sleep.”
“Wise man, you are.”
Arthur got up letting Eames’s hand fall off his back, ignoring the way his fingers slid all the way down his spine to the top of his-
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then. With breakfast.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Arthur agreed tiredly, anxious to just get away from Eames.
He went up to his room, noting the tasteful décor of earth tones accentuated by red pillows. He stripped down to his boxers too tired too fold and hang and instead draped his suit over a chair, placing his shoes underneath it.
Arthur pulled back the covers and practically sunk into the soft mattress. He relaxed instantly most of the tension that he had built up in his back leaking away. He tried not to imagine Eames’s capable hands working away the remaining tension.
He groaned, annoyed at himself. He had made a promise to himself that he would never let anything personal get in the way of his working relationships. His interest in Eames was fleeting. But that did not explain why thought of Eames’s hands on him soothed him to sleep.
------
Arthur slowly woke up feeling well rested and comfortable. He pushed his head into the soothing touch, fully intending on going back to sleep. Wait, who was-
Arthur opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. Of course Eames would be in bed with him playing with his hair. Of course Eames would find that weakness, no one else would dare to touch his hair.
When the gentle fingers carding through his hair didn’t stop Arthur opened his eyes again and batted the hand away. Eames was settled on top of the covers next to Arthur, fully clothed-thank the lord for small miracles.
“Eames,” Arthur ground out.
“Yes, love?” Eames responded serenely, looking completely relaxed as though he belonged in Arthur’s bed. And Arthur had to resist the urge to shut his eyes again at that thought.
“What are you doing?”
“Darling, I’d have thought that’d be obvious. I’m lying in bed with you, playing with your hair.”
Arthur clenched his jaw, trying to think of a single reason why it would be bad to reach under his pillow and shoot Eames in the face with the loaded pistol he was keeping there.
“Yes, but why?”
“I said I’d see you in the morning with breakfast. And it’s morning, so here I am, and there’s breakfast,” Eames gestured at the table, where a tray of covered plates rested. “And I was going to wake you up. But you look so nice and peaceful sleeping, darling, almost like a normal human being.”
“So you decided to molest me instead?”
“I wouldn’t touch you sexually when you were sleeping.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and sat up in bed. “It’s good to know you have some morals at least.”
“No, I don’t.” Eames suddenly looked a lot more serious, lowering his voice, “I just wouldn’t want to miss any of your reactions. The way you’d push into my touch, while you still protested. The way you’d moan and beg when you finally realized that, love, I’m the best you’ll ever have.”
Eames was too close, his face filled Arthur’s vision, his gray eyes strangely imploring, his full lips slightly parted. Arthur didn’t want to think of Eames looking like this every time he watched him flirtatiously con a mark, didn’t want to think of it every time he had to tell Eames to shoot himself, to do something that would cause him pain.
Arthur got out of bed so fast that once both his feet were on the carpet he stumbled on nothing. Eames’s cocky smirk returned and he opened his mouth to say something, when his gaze swept down and he noticed that Arthur wasn’t wearing anything but black silk boxers.
“You’re-”
“I need you to leave now Eames.”
“Come on now, Arthur.”
“Thanks for breakfast. I just-I’ll see you later.”
Eames slid off the bed far more gracefully than he had any right to, and walked farther into Arthur’s personal space than he would have liked, but he didn’t dare move back, didn’t want to give Eames the satisfaction of throwing Arthur off his game for the hundredth time that morning.
Eames opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Suddenly he leaned forward and soft lips pressed against Arthur’s cheek. “I look forward to later,” was all he said, before he left looking back at Arthur as he shut the door behind him, his eyes running over his body like a physical touch.
Arthur pulled the hotel robe on and walked over to the tray of food on the table. He swore softly under his breath. Either Eames had impeccable taste in breakfast or had paid close enough attention to Arthur that he knows all of his favorites without Arthur ever mentioning what they were.
Arthur pressed his fingers to the spot where Eames had kissed him. Perhaps he should have let Eames stay for breakfast, there was certainly enough for two. And then afterwards they could have-no. He was just lonely, it had been a long time since he’d brought anyone back to his room.
He could move on easily. He just needed to accept that he was attracted to Eames. That he wanted those hands exploring his body, that mouth on his cock. Yeah, the food would still be warm if he just jacked off.
Arthur grabbed the complimentary lotion off the sink in the bathroom and it didn’t take long thinking of Eames. Of all the things Eames did to tease and entice him, of all the things he wanted to do to him. He came harder than he normally did by himself.
But it didn’t have to mean anything. He wouldn’t think of how he came shuddering and shaking the forger’s name on his lips the next time he saw him. Not at all.
Arthur ate the waffles with strawberries cooked inside them and watched the news.
------
Arthur, Cobb, Yusuf, Ariadne, and Eames were out at a restaurant after a successful job. Arthur was enjoying the night more than he thought he would. He was playing a drinking game with himself. Every time Eames called him a pet name or said something suggestive to him he would take a drink.
They hadn’t been there for two hours and Arthur was well on his way to getting drunk. The game would end, he told himself, when Eames called someone else a pet name or hit on them. It didn’t seem like the game would end anytime soon.
After a while, the amount of liquid he had been drinking, the alcohol combined with water to prevent dehydration, made its affect known on his bladder. Arthur excused himself from the table and made his way to the bathroom. He could feel Eames’s hungry eyes following him.
Arthur was washing his hands when the door opened. It was Eames, smirking, probably because it was an individual bathroom, only meant for one person and Eames was invading his space. Eames always smirked when invading Arthur’s space.
“You forgot to lock the door, darling,” Eames said and locked it behind him.
Arthur made a mental note to take a drink when he got back to the table and dried his hands on a paper towel.
He made a move towards the door and blinked in confusion when instead of moving out of the way Eames took a step into his personal space.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Eames, I know you’re depraved but I have no desire to see you take a piss.”
Eames chuckled. “Do you really have no idea what I’m doing here Arthur? You can’t be that blind. I see the way you get around me. I know you’ve thought about it, Arthur.”
Arthur looked down at his feet so that he wouldn’t look at Eames, wouldn’t see the way his was looking at Arthur, with so much want and adoration, the way his lips were parted.
“But here you are, so stupidly stubborn that you’re still rejecting when you’re drunk.”
“I am not that drunk,” Arthur responded petulantly, “I can make good decisions still.”
“And you think it’s a good decision not to give this a chance, not to try?”
“It would get complicated, with feelings and such. And then I wouldn’t want to shoot you in the head anymore.”
“Well I would certainly hope not.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You know,” Eames began perking up a bit, after staring dejectedly at the ground for a moment, “this could just be sex if you wanted.”
“Just sex?” Arthur asked, making the mistake of meeting Eames’s gray-blue eyes. He couldn’t look away again.
“Just sex,” Eames repeated stepping forward again, so that they were flush against each other. He leaned forward so his lips were brushing Arthur’s ear. “I would make you feel so good. Make you come so hard.”
“On your knees,” Arthur said, making a snap decision.
“What?” Eames asked, looking rather shocked.
“Get on your knees, Eames, now.”
“Yes, sir,” he panted out, still smirking a bit, sliding down Arthur’s front until his knees hit the ground. He rubbed his face against Arthur’s crotch and tugged his shirt out from under his pants, running his hands over Arthur’s stomach, pressing his fingers into muscle, pressing them along his hips where it felt so good.
Eames unzipped Arthur’s pants and mouthed wetly at his cock through his boxers before pulling back and kissing his stomach. Arthur gritted his teeth, “No teasing,” he said before pushing his head back down.
“Fuck, I’ve really got to get you drunk more often.”
Arthur was about to retort, but then soft full lips were sliding down his cock and he was engulfed in warm wetness.
Arthur let out a soft moan at the feel and sight of those lips stretched tight and snug around the base of his cock. And then Eames hallowed out his checks and began bobbing up and down. Arthur threw his head back and closed his eyes, biting down hard on his bottom lip, determined to last longer than three minutes.
When the delicious movement stopped Arthur opened his eyes and frowned down at Eames who somehow still managed to smirk with a mouthful of cock. Holding eye contact with Arthur, Eames pulled back until only the head was in his mouth. He crossed his arms behind his back and looked up at Arthur without a trace of a smirk, only raw want written on his face.
Arthur cursed softly and reached forward and settled a hand gently on the back of Eames’s head before thrusting smoothly forward, hitting the back of his throat. He paused for a minute, suddenly worried that he made a wrong move, but Eames moaned encouragingly. So Arthur thrust forward again, smoothly moving his hips, fucking into Eames’s mouth fairly hard. Eames just moaned for it and reached down to jack himself off.
Arthur just gave himself over to the sensations of Eames’s throat constricting around his cock. It wasn’t long before Arthur was moaning and shuddering, coming down his throat.
Eames rested his head against Arthur’s stomach and stroked a hand along his side until Arthur had come back to himself again. Arthur straighten up and looked down at Eames still on his knees, his lips swollen, looking completely debauched with a spot of come on the corner of mouth. Arthur felt a spike of lust at the sight despite having just come ridiculously hard.
Arthur reached down and ran a thumb across Eames’s lower lip, rubbing the come into his skin until his pink tongue darted out against his finger and licked it away.
“Well, what now?” Eames asked.
“I supposed I return the favor.”
Eames looked now and away from him. “Already taken care of.”
“Oh,” said Arthur swaying a bit. “Um, well I’ve got to take…three…four drinks, and I guess you do whatever go do on nights like this.”
“Nights like this,” Eames repeated with a bit of laughter in his voice, before shaking his head and walking out leaving Arthur to collect himself. He looked in the mirror and decided not to try too hard with his shirt, everyone would already know anyway, if they didn’t the next time they entered his subconscious and saw debauched projection-Eames.
And why did he even for a minute believe this could just be ‘just sex’?
He leaned his head against the paper towel dispenser until Ariadne poked her head in the bathroom. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure Eames didn’t kill you with his sex powers.”
“Not dead,” Arthur mumbled.
“You okay?” She asked stepping further into the bathroom and rubbing a hand soothingly across his back.
“Drunk. Want to go to bed.”
“That can be arranged, come on.”
He followed her reluctantly out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. She guided him into the passenger seat of a car waiting outside. When he looked up and saw the driver was Eames and not Ariadne, he just groaned.
Eames surprisingly didn’t smirk, or gloat, or say anything he just drove and Arthur let the motion of the car lull him to sleep.
When he next woke up he was in his own bed. Alone, surprisingly enough. Even more surprising was that he was disappointed by it. He checked the time on the digital clock on his bedside table and sighed before rolling out of bed to start the coffee.
He walked through the living room area to the kitchenette before backing up and staring at the couch. Eames was fast asleep on the couch.
Arthur cleared his throat loudly and Eames startled awake. A trick Arthur had learned early on in their days working together, it was a reflex left over from Eames’s school boy days.
“Hullo Arthur,” Eames said sleep thick in his voice.
“Morning. I was surprised to find you sleeping on my couch this morning.”
“About that, sorry, but I was hoping to talk you to you about last night, and this was the one way I could be sure I would get to talk to you.”
“Good, I was hoping to talk to you about that as well.”
“Oh.” Eames rubbed a hand through his hair, looking more unsure of himself than Arthur had ever seen. “How about you go first then?”
“Yes, well. I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“What?”
“The just sex thing. Sometimes I think it might get hard to separate it from emotion, especially when someone already has really strong feelings for the other person.”
“Look, I’m sorry about that. If last night made you uncomfortable…well I want you too much and not just for your cock, even though that is well…really nice that it’s so-”
“Eames.”
“Sorry. I’m just sorry about my feelings and that-”
“Eames,” Arthur said again, softer and more gently stepping into his personal space and holding out his hand, “come to bed with me?”
Eames looked between Arthur’s proffered hand and his face, perplexed for a moment, before understanding dawned. “Oh fuck yes,” he said before grabbing Arthur's hand and pulling Arthur behind him to the bedroom.
Author: zoetrope13
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Words: 2,764
Fandom: Inception
Warnings: Unbeta'ed
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, nor do I claim to.
Summary: Eames makes his affections more than subtle and Arthur refuses to pursue anything because he wants stay professional. It makes Eames even more ambitious making Arthur very sexually frustrated/conflicted. Written for this prompt on the Inception Kink Meme.
Arthur stifled a yawn. He couldn’t wait to get his room key; they’d had a brutal day followed by a night of flying. He rolled his shoulders. Suddenly large warm hands were on his shoulders, stilling them, thumbs working into the knotted muscle.
“Tense, love?” Arthur could feel the warm breath of the speaker against his ear. He shrugged his shoulders, hoping to dislodge the hands.
“Unhand me Eames.”
“Don’t think I can’t feel the way you relax under my hands.” He leaned forward again, so his mouth was right at Arthur’s ear. “Would love to feel all of your body under my hands. Don’t worry, darling, I’d be gentle…tonight at least.”
Thankfully the concierge chose that moment to bring Arthur his key card, saving Arthur from having to respond. He leaned forward to pick up his bag, but was pulled back in his seat.
“Well, it’s been lovely, Eames, but I really must be going now.” Sarcasm dipped from his words.
“There’s no reason that we have to go to separate rooms,” Eames said, scuffing his shoe against the earth toned carpeting, looking almost coyly at Arthur.
“Yes, there is. The instant I get in that room I am going to sleep. And you can’t come with me because I don’t trust you to not molest me in my sleep.”
“Wise man, you are.”
Arthur got up letting Eames’s hand fall off his back, ignoring the way his fingers slid all the way down his spine to the top of his-
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then. With breakfast.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Arthur agreed tiredly, anxious to just get away from Eames.
He went up to his room, noting the tasteful décor of earth tones accentuated by red pillows. He stripped down to his boxers too tired too fold and hang and instead draped his suit over a chair, placing his shoes underneath it.
Arthur pulled back the covers and practically sunk into the soft mattress. He relaxed instantly most of the tension that he had built up in his back leaking away. He tried not to imagine Eames’s capable hands working away the remaining tension.
He groaned, annoyed at himself. He had made a promise to himself that he would never let anything personal get in the way of his working relationships. His interest in Eames was fleeting. But that did not explain why thought of Eames’s hands on him soothed him to sleep.
------
Arthur slowly woke up feeling well rested and comfortable. He pushed his head into the soothing touch, fully intending on going back to sleep. Wait, who was-
Arthur opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. Of course Eames would be in bed with him playing with his hair. Of course Eames would find that weakness, no one else would dare to touch his hair.
When the gentle fingers carding through his hair didn’t stop Arthur opened his eyes again and batted the hand away. Eames was settled on top of the covers next to Arthur, fully clothed-thank the lord for small miracles.
“Eames,” Arthur ground out.
“Yes, love?” Eames responded serenely, looking completely relaxed as though he belonged in Arthur’s bed. And Arthur had to resist the urge to shut his eyes again at that thought.
“What are you doing?”
“Darling, I’d have thought that’d be obvious. I’m lying in bed with you, playing with your hair.”
Arthur clenched his jaw, trying to think of a single reason why it would be bad to reach under his pillow and shoot Eames in the face with the loaded pistol he was keeping there.
“Yes, but why?”
“I said I’d see you in the morning with breakfast. And it’s morning, so here I am, and there’s breakfast,” Eames gestured at the table, where a tray of covered plates rested. “And I was going to wake you up. But you look so nice and peaceful sleeping, darling, almost like a normal human being.”
“So you decided to molest me instead?”
“I wouldn’t touch you sexually when you were sleeping.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and sat up in bed. “It’s good to know you have some morals at least.”
“No, I don’t.” Eames suddenly looked a lot more serious, lowering his voice, “I just wouldn’t want to miss any of your reactions. The way you’d push into my touch, while you still protested. The way you’d moan and beg when you finally realized that, love, I’m the best you’ll ever have.”
Eames was too close, his face filled Arthur’s vision, his gray eyes strangely imploring, his full lips slightly parted. Arthur didn’t want to think of Eames looking like this every time he watched him flirtatiously con a mark, didn’t want to think of it every time he had to tell Eames to shoot himself, to do something that would cause him pain.
Arthur got out of bed so fast that once both his feet were on the carpet he stumbled on nothing. Eames’s cocky smirk returned and he opened his mouth to say something, when his gaze swept down and he noticed that Arthur wasn’t wearing anything but black silk boxers.
“You’re-”
“I need you to leave now Eames.”
“Come on now, Arthur.”
“Thanks for breakfast. I just-I’ll see you later.”
Eames slid off the bed far more gracefully than he had any right to, and walked farther into Arthur’s personal space than he would have liked, but he didn’t dare move back, didn’t want to give Eames the satisfaction of throwing Arthur off his game for the hundredth time that morning.
Eames opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it and closed it again. Suddenly he leaned forward and soft lips pressed against Arthur’s cheek. “I look forward to later,” was all he said, before he left looking back at Arthur as he shut the door behind him, his eyes running over his body like a physical touch.
Arthur pulled the hotel robe on and walked over to the tray of food on the table. He swore softly under his breath. Either Eames had impeccable taste in breakfast or had paid close enough attention to Arthur that he knows all of his favorites without Arthur ever mentioning what they were.
Arthur pressed his fingers to the spot where Eames had kissed him. Perhaps he should have let Eames stay for breakfast, there was certainly enough for two. And then afterwards they could have-no. He was just lonely, it had been a long time since he’d brought anyone back to his room.
He could move on easily. He just needed to accept that he was attracted to Eames. That he wanted those hands exploring his body, that mouth on his cock. Yeah, the food would still be warm if he just jacked off.
Arthur grabbed the complimentary lotion off the sink in the bathroom and it didn’t take long thinking of Eames. Of all the things Eames did to tease and entice him, of all the things he wanted to do to him. He came harder than he normally did by himself.
But it didn’t have to mean anything. He wouldn’t think of how he came shuddering and shaking the forger’s name on his lips the next time he saw him. Not at all.
Arthur ate the waffles with strawberries cooked inside them and watched the news.
------
Arthur, Cobb, Yusuf, Ariadne, and Eames were out at a restaurant after a successful job. Arthur was enjoying the night more than he thought he would. He was playing a drinking game with himself. Every time Eames called him a pet name or said something suggestive to him he would take a drink.
They hadn’t been there for two hours and Arthur was well on his way to getting drunk. The game would end, he told himself, when Eames called someone else a pet name or hit on them. It didn’t seem like the game would end anytime soon.
After a while, the amount of liquid he had been drinking, the alcohol combined with water to prevent dehydration, made its affect known on his bladder. Arthur excused himself from the table and made his way to the bathroom. He could feel Eames’s hungry eyes following him.
Arthur was washing his hands when the door opened. It was Eames, smirking, probably because it was an individual bathroom, only meant for one person and Eames was invading his space. Eames always smirked when invading Arthur’s space.
“You forgot to lock the door, darling,” Eames said and locked it behind him.
Arthur made a mental note to take a drink when he got back to the table and dried his hands on a paper towel.
He made a move towards the door and blinked in confusion when instead of moving out of the way Eames took a step into his personal space.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Eames, I know you’re depraved but I have no desire to see you take a piss.”
Eames chuckled. “Do you really have no idea what I’m doing here Arthur? You can’t be that blind. I see the way you get around me. I know you’ve thought about it, Arthur.”
Arthur looked down at his feet so that he wouldn’t look at Eames, wouldn’t see the way his was looking at Arthur, with so much want and adoration, the way his lips were parted.
“But here you are, so stupidly stubborn that you’re still rejecting when you’re drunk.”
“I am not that drunk,” Arthur responded petulantly, “I can make good decisions still.”
“And you think it’s a good decision not to give this a chance, not to try?”
“It would get complicated, with feelings and such. And then I wouldn’t want to shoot you in the head anymore.”
“Well I would certainly hope not.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You know,” Eames began perking up a bit, after staring dejectedly at the ground for a moment, “this could just be sex if you wanted.”
“Just sex?” Arthur asked, making the mistake of meeting Eames’s gray-blue eyes. He couldn’t look away again.
“Just sex,” Eames repeated stepping forward again, so that they were flush against each other. He leaned forward so his lips were brushing Arthur’s ear. “I would make you feel so good. Make you come so hard.”
“On your knees,” Arthur said, making a snap decision.
“What?” Eames asked, looking rather shocked.
“Get on your knees, Eames, now.”
“Yes, sir,” he panted out, still smirking a bit, sliding down Arthur’s front until his knees hit the ground. He rubbed his face against Arthur’s crotch and tugged his shirt out from under his pants, running his hands over Arthur’s stomach, pressing his fingers into muscle, pressing them along his hips where it felt so good.
Eames unzipped Arthur’s pants and mouthed wetly at his cock through his boxers before pulling back and kissing his stomach. Arthur gritted his teeth, “No teasing,” he said before pushing his head back down.
“Fuck, I’ve really got to get you drunk more often.”
Arthur was about to retort, but then soft full lips were sliding down his cock and he was engulfed in warm wetness.
Arthur let out a soft moan at the feel and sight of those lips stretched tight and snug around the base of his cock. And then Eames hallowed out his checks and began bobbing up and down. Arthur threw his head back and closed his eyes, biting down hard on his bottom lip, determined to last longer than three minutes.
When the delicious movement stopped Arthur opened his eyes and frowned down at Eames who somehow still managed to smirk with a mouthful of cock. Holding eye contact with Arthur, Eames pulled back until only the head was in his mouth. He crossed his arms behind his back and looked up at Arthur without a trace of a smirk, only raw want written on his face.
Arthur cursed softly and reached forward and settled a hand gently on the back of Eames’s head before thrusting smoothly forward, hitting the back of his throat. He paused for a minute, suddenly worried that he made a wrong move, but Eames moaned encouragingly. So Arthur thrust forward again, smoothly moving his hips, fucking into Eames’s mouth fairly hard. Eames just moaned for it and reached down to jack himself off.
Arthur just gave himself over to the sensations of Eames’s throat constricting around his cock. It wasn’t long before Arthur was moaning and shuddering, coming down his throat.
Eames rested his head against Arthur’s stomach and stroked a hand along his side until Arthur had come back to himself again. Arthur straighten up and looked down at Eames still on his knees, his lips swollen, looking completely debauched with a spot of come on the corner of mouth. Arthur felt a spike of lust at the sight despite having just come ridiculously hard.
Arthur reached down and ran a thumb across Eames’s lower lip, rubbing the come into his skin until his pink tongue darted out against his finger and licked it away.
“Well, what now?” Eames asked.
“I supposed I return the favor.”
Eames looked now and away from him. “Already taken care of.”
“Oh,” said Arthur swaying a bit. “Um, well I’ve got to take…three…four drinks, and I guess you do whatever go do on nights like this.”
“Nights like this,” Eames repeated with a bit of laughter in his voice, before shaking his head and walking out leaving Arthur to collect himself. He looked in the mirror and decided not to try too hard with his shirt, everyone would already know anyway, if they didn’t the next time they entered his subconscious and saw debauched projection-Eames.
And why did he even for a minute believe this could just be ‘just sex’?
He leaned his head against the paper towel dispenser until Ariadne poked her head in the bathroom. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure Eames didn’t kill you with his sex powers.”
“Not dead,” Arthur mumbled.
“You okay?” She asked stepping further into the bathroom and rubbing a hand soothingly across his back.
“Drunk. Want to go to bed.”
“That can be arranged, come on.”
He followed her reluctantly out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. She guided him into the passenger seat of a car waiting outside. When he looked up and saw the driver was Eames and not Ariadne, he just groaned.
Eames surprisingly didn’t smirk, or gloat, or say anything he just drove and Arthur let the motion of the car lull him to sleep.
When he next woke up he was in his own bed. Alone, surprisingly enough. Even more surprising was that he was disappointed by it. He checked the time on the digital clock on his bedside table and sighed before rolling out of bed to start the coffee.
He walked through the living room area to the kitchenette before backing up and staring at the couch. Eames was fast asleep on the couch.
Arthur cleared his throat loudly and Eames startled awake. A trick Arthur had learned early on in their days working together, it was a reflex left over from Eames’s school boy days.
“Hullo Arthur,” Eames said sleep thick in his voice.
“Morning. I was surprised to find you sleeping on my couch this morning.”
“About that, sorry, but I was hoping to talk you to you about last night, and this was the one way I could be sure I would get to talk to you.”
“Good, I was hoping to talk to you about that as well.”
“Oh.” Eames rubbed a hand through his hair, looking more unsure of himself than Arthur had ever seen. “How about you go first then?”
“Yes, well. I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“What?”
“The just sex thing. Sometimes I think it might get hard to separate it from emotion, especially when someone already has really strong feelings for the other person.”
“Look, I’m sorry about that. If last night made you uncomfortable…well I want you too much and not just for your cock, even though that is well…really nice that it’s so-”
“Eames.”
“Sorry. I’m just sorry about my feelings and that-”
“Eames,” Arthur said again, softer and more gently stepping into his personal space and holding out his hand, “come to bed with me?”
Eames looked between Arthur’s proffered hand and his face, perplexed for a moment, before understanding dawned. “Oh fuck yes,” he said before grabbing Arthur's hand and pulling Arthur behind him to the bedroom.