fic: It's just you and me and the spaces in between (part iii)
Title: It's just you and me and the spaces in between (part iii)
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: angst!
Prompt: home
Word count: approx 1,400 (this part)
Rating: PG (this part)
Warnings: none.
Summary: Five times Arthur disappears unexpectedly and one time he comes to find Eames.
A/N: this is me just sitting here like "anytime now, angst. feel free to kick in." and the angst just very resolutely avoiding me. I'm sure there's angst in there somewhere, just... very, very mild. asldkjfasldfkjal
Part 1 || Part 2
III.
One year later and Arthur’s joined the dream sharing research program at the university. Six months after that and Arthur’s fallen off the map completely. Eames is just wrapping up his PhD in psychology (he’s due to graduate at the end of the semester) when he hears the news, the rumors spreading like wildfire across campus; that Arthur Levine has gone missing, that one of those machines they’ve been working on in the lab, that top secret government funded project, one of those dreaming devices so powerful they sound like something straight out of a science fiction novel, one of those has been stolen. Campus security and local police (and, if rumors are true, certain government authorities, but Eames hasn’t seen evidence of that yet, and he’ll only believe it if he sees it with his own eyes) have been working around the clock to try to track the device down, the PASIV, as it’s being called, but no one has any leads as to its whereabouts. And Arthur, the most likely suspect, who no doubt has this device that’s worth millions in his possession, Arthur is nowhere to be found either. People just started noticing one day that Arthur wasn’t showing up to classes anymore, but when they went to go investigate, it was like Arthur had never existed at all.
“You’re not worried about where Arthur is?” Eames asks Dom one day as they grab coffee together. He’s almost afraid to be saying this much to Dom, finally voicing the questions that have been plaguing his mind ever since Arthur’s disappearance. But Eames has known Dom for too long to be afraid, and besides, he really can’t take it anymore, can’t keep bottling up everything. “You’re not worried that he might be kidnapped or hurt or something?”
Dom gives Eames a contemplative look. “Are you worried?” he asks.
Eames frowns, biting back the petulant ‘I asked you first’ that’s bubbling to his lips. “He disappeared without a trace,” Eames says instead, trying to squash down on the ache that’s been swelling in his chest since Arthur’s disappearance. “Of course I’m worried. Any sane person would be.”
Dom hums noncommittally. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” Dom offers, sipping casually at his coffee, looking none too worried about Arthur even though he’s one of Dom’s closest friends. “Mal keeps complaining that you never come over to visit enough.”
Eames laughs, a sharp sound that sounds too tense even to Eames’ own ears, and he’s still worked up over Arthur and more than a little bothered by Dom’s apparent disregard for Arthur’s absence, but agrees to dinner anyways, because he really has been meaning to go see him and Mal and the new baby, but he just keeps getting overwhelmed with all the work he has to do.
“I’ll be over around six,” he says, and Dom says that sounds perfect.
Eames arrives just a touch late but they’re his friends so they won’t mind, and he can always blame it on the horrible rush hour traffic anyways. Dom greets him at the door with a smile and ushers him in, leading him to the kitchen, where Mal is, bouncing baby Phillipa on one hip as she reads aloud from a children’s book. Mal looks up with a brilliant smile when she hears Eames approach and goes to hug him. Phillipa looks at Eames with wide, innocent eyes, quiet because Eames is new and unknown to her, but in a few minutes time, Eames manages to coax a smile out of her. Eames has just about forgotten about his worries about Arthur, which, Eames supposes, was probably Dom’s intention in inviting Eames over in the first place, when something reminds him of Arthur. Probably because it is Arthur, walking through the doorway to the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of boxers and a threadbare t-shirt, towel-drying his hair, still damp from a shower.
“Hey Mal, I was just wondering-”
Arthur’s voice falls off abruptly as he spots Eames, and Eames doesn’t know whether to interpret this as a good thing or not. Actually, Eames is a little too much in shock to really process anything except for the fact that Arthur is here and he’s safe and he’s been right under Eames’ nose this whole time and Eames hadn’t even the slightest idea.
“Yes?” Mal prompts, and her voice seems to snap Arthur back into his skin.
He blinks once before looking at Mal and saying with words just as soft and sure as Eames remembers, “We ran out of coffee this morning. I was just wondering if you’d gotten more or if I’d need to run and get some.”
Arthur says ‘we’ like he belongs, like he knows exactly where his place is in the world, and Eames grits his teeth against the dull throb that comes with the knowledge that he, Eames, isn’t a part of that. Suddenly, Eames feels like an intruder, an outsider, someone who doesn’t belong in this quiet, cozy little bubble that Arthur has with Mal and Dom.
When Arthur wanders away again after being assured by Mal that the coffee situation has all been taken care of, Eames looks in surprise to Mal and Dom, who both look possibly too amused with the situation at hand.
“Arthur’s been living here,” Eames says incredulously. “He’s thought to be missing and he’s living right here in plain sight and no one’s thought to look?”
“He’s very discreet,” Mal says, and her tone implies more but she doesn’t elaborate. And then her expression slips into something different, something conspiratorial. “Don’t you ever wonder where that missing PASIV has run off to?”
Eames opens his mouth to respond, but he instantly forgets what he was about to say, words dying in his mouth, when Arthur walks into the kitchen again, now fully dressed, trousers and all, with a shiny, sleek silver briefcase in tow. Eames has knows what a PASIV looks like, has had dream theory explained to him in very thorough lectures, but he’s never actually seen one in real life before, never had one so close he could touch it if he just reached out. Of course, to Mal and Dom and Arthur, this is nothing new, being so close to a machine that could topple empires, because they’re all studying biology or materials science or chemical engineering respectively; they’re all directly involved with pioneering dream research. But Eames, Eames is just a psychology student, doesn’t know the first thing about the chemical properties of Somnacin or how exactly this compact little device can induce the most realistic, sharp clarity. Eames only has knowledge of the theoretical, and it’s just so, so strange seeing Arthur (young Arthur, brilliant Arthur, always so elusive Arthur) hefting the PASIV up onto Mal and Dom’s kitchen counter.
Eames realizes belatedly that he’s been gaping at Arthur this whole time. He quickly schools his expression into of polite interest, but it’s too late; Arthur’s already smirking at Eames, clearly amused by Eames’ dumbfounded silence.
“So you did steal it,” Eames says, to break the silence, if nothing else.
Arthur shrugs like it was nothing, like it’s not a miracle he hasn’t been caught yet. “Tell me something, Eames,” he says, and the way his voice curls around Eames’ name makes Eames’ stomach swoop in ways he’d rather not think about. “Have you ever dreamed before?”
Eames blinks, not really knowing how to answer that question. “Of course I have,” he says, confusion evident in his voice. “Everyone does.”
Arthur’s mouth curls up into a smirk once more, more devious this time, almost dangerous. Eames feels a thrum of electricity jolt beneath his skin, suddenly impossibly aroused at how heated Arthur’s gaze feels. And then Arthur speaks, his voice low and excited in a way that Eames has never heard from before, and it’s then that Eames knows he’s completely lost this battle he’s been fighting against his own attraction to Arthur, this fight he knows he won’t come out of in one piece, because Arthur’s got Eames in the palm of his hand and he doesn’t even realize it.
“I’ll be you’ve never dreamed like this before.”
Part 4
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: angst!
Prompt: home
Word count: approx 1,400 (this part)
Rating: PG (this part)
Warnings: none.
Summary: Five times Arthur disappears unexpectedly and one time he comes to find Eames.
A/N: this is me just sitting here like "anytime now, angst. feel free to kick in." and the angst just very resolutely avoiding me. I'm sure there's angst in there somewhere, just... very, very mild. asldkjfasldfkjal
Part 1 || Part 2
III.
One year later and Arthur’s joined the dream sharing research program at the university. Six months after that and Arthur’s fallen off the map completely. Eames is just wrapping up his PhD in psychology (he’s due to graduate at the end of the semester) when he hears the news, the rumors spreading like wildfire across campus; that Arthur Levine has gone missing, that one of those machines they’ve been working on in the lab, that top secret government funded project, one of those dreaming devices so powerful they sound like something straight out of a science fiction novel, one of those has been stolen. Campus security and local police (and, if rumors are true, certain government authorities, but Eames hasn’t seen evidence of that yet, and he’ll only believe it if he sees it with his own eyes) have been working around the clock to try to track the device down, the PASIV, as it’s being called, but no one has any leads as to its whereabouts. And Arthur, the most likely suspect, who no doubt has this device that’s worth millions in his possession, Arthur is nowhere to be found either. People just started noticing one day that Arthur wasn’t showing up to classes anymore, but when they went to go investigate, it was like Arthur had never existed at all.
“You’re not worried about where Arthur is?” Eames asks Dom one day as they grab coffee together. He’s almost afraid to be saying this much to Dom, finally voicing the questions that have been plaguing his mind ever since Arthur’s disappearance. But Eames has known Dom for too long to be afraid, and besides, he really can’t take it anymore, can’t keep bottling up everything. “You’re not worried that he might be kidnapped or hurt or something?”
Dom gives Eames a contemplative look. “Are you worried?” he asks.
Eames frowns, biting back the petulant ‘I asked you first’ that’s bubbling to his lips. “He disappeared without a trace,” Eames says instead, trying to squash down on the ache that’s been swelling in his chest since Arthur’s disappearance. “Of course I’m worried. Any sane person would be.”
Dom hums noncommittally. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” Dom offers, sipping casually at his coffee, looking none too worried about Arthur even though he’s one of Dom’s closest friends. “Mal keeps complaining that you never come over to visit enough.”
Eames laughs, a sharp sound that sounds too tense even to Eames’ own ears, and he’s still worked up over Arthur and more than a little bothered by Dom’s apparent disregard for Arthur’s absence, but agrees to dinner anyways, because he really has been meaning to go see him and Mal and the new baby, but he just keeps getting overwhelmed with all the work he has to do.
“I’ll be over around six,” he says, and Dom says that sounds perfect.
Eames arrives just a touch late but they’re his friends so they won’t mind, and he can always blame it on the horrible rush hour traffic anyways. Dom greets him at the door with a smile and ushers him in, leading him to the kitchen, where Mal is, bouncing baby Phillipa on one hip as she reads aloud from a children’s book. Mal looks up with a brilliant smile when she hears Eames approach and goes to hug him. Phillipa looks at Eames with wide, innocent eyes, quiet because Eames is new and unknown to her, but in a few minutes time, Eames manages to coax a smile out of her. Eames has just about forgotten about his worries about Arthur, which, Eames supposes, was probably Dom’s intention in inviting Eames over in the first place, when something reminds him of Arthur. Probably because it is Arthur, walking through the doorway to the kitchen, dressed only in a pair of boxers and a threadbare t-shirt, towel-drying his hair, still damp from a shower.
“Hey Mal, I was just wondering-”
Arthur’s voice falls off abruptly as he spots Eames, and Eames doesn’t know whether to interpret this as a good thing or not. Actually, Eames is a little too much in shock to really process anything except for the fact that Arthur is here and he’s safe and he’s been right under Eames’ nose this whole time and Eames hadn’t even the slightest idea.
“Yes?” Mal prompts, and her voice seems to snap Arthur back into his skin.
He blinks once before looking at Mal and saying with words just as soft and sure as Eames remembers, “We ran out of coffee this morning. I was just wondering if you’d gotten more or if I’d need to run and get some.”
Arthur says ‘we’ like he belongs, like he knows exactly where his place is in the world, and Eames grits his teeth against the dull throb that comes with the knowledge that he, Eames, isn’t a part of that. Suddenly, Eames feels like an intruder, an outsider, someone who doesn’t belong in this quiet, cozy little bubble that Arthur has with Mal and Dom.
When Arthur wanders away again after being assured by Mal that the coffee situation has all been taken care of, Eames looks in surprise to Mal and Dom, who both look possibly too amused with the situation at hand.
“Arthur’s been living here,” Eames says incredulously. “He’s thought to be missing and he’s living right here in plain sight and no one’s thought to look?”
“He’s very discreet,” Mal says, and her tone implies more but she doesn’t elaborate. And then her expression slips into something different, something conspiratorial. “Don’t you ever wonder where that missing PASIV has run off to?”
Eames opens his mouth to respond, but he instantly forgets what he was about to say, words dying in his mouth, when Arthur walks into the kitchen again, now fully dressed, trousers and all, with a shiny, sleek silver briefcase in tow. Eames has knows what a PASIV looks like, has had dream theory explained to him in very thorough lectures, but he’s never actually seen one in real life before, never had one so close he could touch it if he just reached out. Of course, to Mal and Dom and Arthur, this is nothing new, being so close to a machine that could topple empires, because they’re all studying biology or materials science or chemical engineering respectively; they’re all directly involved with pioneering dream research. But Eames, Eames is just a psychology student, doesn’t know the first thing about the chemical properties of Somnacin or how exactly this compact little device can induce the most realistic, sharp clarity. Eames only has knowledge of the theoretical, and it’s just so, so strange seeing Arthur (young Arthur, brilliant Arthur, always so elusive Arthur) hefting the PASIV up onto Mal and Dom’s kitchen counter.
Eames realizes belatedly that he’s been gaping at Arthur this whole time. He quickly schools his expression into of polite interest, but it’s too late; Arthur’s already smirking at Eames, clearly amused by Eames’ dumbfounded silence.
“So you did steal it,” Eames says, to break the silence, if nothing else.
Arthur shrugs like it was nothing, like it’s not a miracle he hasn’t been caught yet. “Tell me something, Eames,” he says, and the way his voice curls around Eames’ name makes Eames’ stomach swoop in ways he’d rather not think about. “Have you ever dreamed before?”
Eames blinks, not really knowing how to answer that question. “Of course I have,” he says, confusion evident in his voice. “Everyone does.”
Arthur’s mouth curls up into a smirk once more, more devious this time, almost dangerous. Eames feels a thrum of electricity jolt beneath his skin, suddenly impossibly aroused at how heated Arthur’s gaze feels. And then Arthur speaks, his voice low and excited in a way that Eames has never heard from before, and it’s then that Eames knows he’s completely lost this battle he’s been fighting against his own attraction to Arthur, this fight he knows he won’t come out of in one piece, because Arthur’s got Eames in the palm of his hand and he doesn’t even realize it.
“I’ll be you’ve never dreamed like this before.”
Part 4