fic: It's just you and me and the spaces in between (part ii)
Title: It's just you and me and the spaces in between (part ii)
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: angst!
Prompt: home
Word count: approx 800 (this part)
Rating: PG (this part)
Warnings: none.
Summary: Five times Arthur disappears unexpectedly and one time he comes to find Eames.
Part 1
II.
When Eames receives the invitation to Mal and Dom’s wedding, it’s not a surprise. He’s been friends with Dom for some time now and with Mal for even longer. He’d met Mal at the first dream sharing lecture of a course a professor who’d been visiting that semester had taught, a professor Mal later introduced to Eames as ‘Papa.’
When Eames goes to Mal and Dom’s wedding and he sees Arthur there, dressed to the nines and standing beside Dom as his best man, that is a surprise. Sure, Eames has run into Arthur a handful of times when he spends time with Mal or Dom, but Eames has never guessed that Arthur might be close enough to Dom to be his best man at his wedding. He supposes it’s because each time he sees Arthur talking with Mal or Dom and approaches in hopes of actually having a chance to properly talk to Arthur, it seems like Arthur is making his goodbyes and leaving, slipping away before Eames can call out to him. Eames supposes that’s probably his fault anyways, for spilling coffee all over Arthur the first time they met, but he’s not one to dwell on things too much, so he doesn’t really think about it anymore (except for late at night, except for when he has nothing else to think about, except for when he can’t sleep, overcome with the fear that he might die alone, because he’s stupidly, stupidly attracted to someone who won’t even look his way).
At the wedding reception, Eames is listening idly to Mal, who’s chattering on and on, just about as excited as can be about her upcoming honeymoon because she’s one of those people who loves travelling more than almost anything else in the world, and he casts his gaze over the ballroom, scanning over the crowd without even knowing what he’s looking for until he sees Arthur. Arthur, who’s gazing at Eames over his glass of wine, Arthur, who’s staring at Eames with such intensity that Eames can’t bear to look away, for fear that he might dissolve, right there, in the middle of the ballroom. He looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, dressed in that tux that fits him better than anything, hair slicked back to make him look older, add more edge to that face that still looks so, so young. Eames wonders if Arthur’s seeing anyone, because Arthur’s fucking stunning and it’s been almost two years since Eames first met Arthur and Eames can’t see how Arthur couldn’t be taken at this point. The almost heated way Arthur is gazing over at Eames says that no, no Arthur isn’t, but life has never been nice enough to Eames that he ever really gets what he wants the most, so he thinks that he’s probably just making things up, seeing what he wants to see.
Arthur looks away from Eames abruptly, hiding what could be a smile or a grimace or a frown behind his glass of wine, and Eames watches as Arthur quietly excuses himself from the conversation he’s been partaking in. The irrationally hopeful part of Eames almost believes that Arthur is coming over to talk to Eames, but when Eames tries to find Arthur amongst the other guests, he can’t find that familiar slender figure and pale, pale skin.
“Eames?” Mal’s voice pierces his thoughts.
Eames turns back around to look at her, raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Yes, love?” he grins, pretending as if he hasn’t been ignoring her all this time.
“You didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?” she asks, voice coming off as fond instead of reprimanding.
Eames laughs, even though he feels a little hollow. “You have a husband for that now,” he says lightly. “It’s not my job anymore, now is it?”
And Mal laughs and hits his arm, and Eames grins like everything’s okay, grins like his hopes haven’t been crushed again. He really should know not to do this anymore; like believing in Santa Claus, he should have given up and accepted that his dreams of Arthur will never, never be more than fantasy.
“Are you alright?” Mal asks, always perceptive.
Eames smiles softly at her and pats her hand. “Stop worrying so much, Mal. This is your wedding night. You’re supposed to spend it enjoying the festivities, not fretting over little ole me,” he says, but he doesn’t say yes, doesn’t say he’s alright, because it doesn’t feel right to lie to Mal, not tonight.
Mal looks like she’s not at all deceived by Eames’ efforts to distract her, but she lets it slide. “Would you like to dance?” she asks instead.
And Eames agrees, because he wants to, because it’s her wedding night and she asked, because he needs something to distract himself with. And the whole time, though Eames is trying his hardest not to, he can’t help looking around for Arthur, a sinking feeling filling his gut when Arthur’s nowhere to be seen.
Part 3
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: angst!
Prompt: home
Word count: approx 800 (this part)
Rating: PG (this part)
Warnings: none.
Summary: Five times Arthur disappears unexpectedly and one time he comes to find Eames.
Part 1
II.
When Eames receives the invitation to Mal and Dom’s wedding, it’s not a surprise. He’s been friends with Dom for some time now and with Mal for even longer. He’d met Mal at the first dream sharing lecture of a course a professor who’d been visiting that semester had taught, a professor Mal later introduced to Eames as ‘Papa.’
When Eames goes to Mal and Dom’s wedding and he sees Arthur there, dressed to the nines and standing beside Dom as his best man, that is a surprise. Sure, Eames has run into Arthur a handful of times when he spends time with Mal or Dom, but Eames has never guessed that Arthur might be close enough to Dom to be his best man at his wedding. He supposes it’s because each time he sees Arthur talking with Mal or Dom and approaches in hopes of actually having a chance to properly talk to Arthur, it seems like Arthur is making his goodbyes and leaving, slipping away before Eames can call out to him. Eames supposes that’s probably his fault anyways, for spilling coffee all over Arthur the first time they met, but he’s not one to dwell on things too much, so he doesn’t really think about it anymore (except for late at night, except for when he has nothing else to think about, except for when he can’t sleep, overcome with the fear that he might die alone, because he’s stupidly, stupidly attracted to someone who won’t even look his way).
At the wedding reception, Eames is listening idly to Mal, who’s chattering on and on, just about as excited as can be about her upcoming honeymoon because she’s one of those people who loves travelling more than almost anything else in the world, and he casts his gaze over the ballroom, scanning over the crowd without even knowing what he’s looking for until he sees Arthur. Arthur, who’s gazing at Eames over his glass of wine, Arthur, who’s staring at Eames with such intensity that Eames can’t bear to look away, for fear that he might dissolve, right there, in the middle of the ballroom. He looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, dressed in that tux that fits him better than anything, hair slicked back to make him look older, add more edge to that face that still looks so, so young. Eames wonders if Arthur’s seeing anyone, because Arthur’s fucking stunning and it’s been almost two years since Eames first met Arthur and Eames can’t see how Arthur couldn’t be taken at this point. The almost heated way Arthur is gazing over at Eames says that no, no Arthur isn’t, but life has never been nice enough to Eames that he ever really gets what he wants the most, so he thinks that he’s probably just making things up, seeing what he wants to see.
Arthur looks away from Eames abruptly, hiding what could be a smile or a grimace or a frown behind his glass of wine, and Eames watches as Arthur quietly excuses himself from the conversation he’s been partaking in. The irrationally hopeful part of Eames almost believes that Arthur is coming over to talk to Eames, but when Eames tries to find Arthur amongst the other guests, he can’t find that familiar slender figure and pale, pale skin.
“Eames?” Mal’s voice pierces his thoughts.
Eames turns back around to look at her, raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Yes, love?” he grins, pretending as if he hasn’t been ignoring her all this time.
“You didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?” she asks, voice coming off as fond instead of reprimanding.
Eames laughs, even though he feels a little hollow. “You have a husband for that now,” he says lightly. “It’s not my job anymore, now is it?”
And Mal laughs and hits his arm, and Eames grins like everything’s okay, grins like his hopes haven’t been crushed again. He really should know not to do this anymore; like believing in Santa Claus, he should have given up and accepted that his dreams of Arthur will never, never be more than fantasy.
“Are you alright?” Mal asks, always perceptive.
Eames smiles softly at her and pats her hand. “Stop worrying so much, Mal. This is your wedding night. You’re supposed to spend it enjoying the festivities, not fretting over little ole me,” he says, but he doesn’t say yes, doesn’t say he’s alright, because it doesn’t feel right to lie to Mal, not tonight.
Mal looks like she’s not at all deceived by Eames’ efforts to distract her, but she lets it slide. “Would you like to dance?” she asks instead.
And Eames agrees, because he wants to, because it’s her wedding night and she asked, because he needs something to distract himself with. And the whole time, though Eames is trying his hardest not to, he can’t help looking around for Arthur, a sinking feeling filling his gut when Arthur’s nowhere to be seen.
Part 3