As Long As We Both Get There
Title: As Long As We Both Get There
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Summary: A sequel to "What Does It Take?", where Eames is still haunted by how close he came to losing Arthur. Also a fill for this Round 11 kink meme prompt: community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/13659.html
"What Does It Take?" is here: fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/15120.html
Eames' eyes snap open in the dark, and only years of learning to wake silently keeps him from making a noise when he does. That and the fact that he feels like he can't breathe. He turns his head and feels some of the tightness in his chest loosen when he sees Arthur next to him, head turned away from the forger.
Eames sits up slowly, dropping his face into his hands and taking deep, calming breaths. It had only been two weeks ago when Arthur had nearly died, a bout of PASIV-induced insomnia lasting longer than usual and leaving him so incoherent he'd forgotten that he couldn't take more than one or two sleeping pills. Eames doesn't think he'll soon forget what it felt like to come here to Arthur's apartment and find the man utterly still on the bed, not breathing with his lips turning blue.
He dreams about it, because unfortunately for him his skill set is varied enough that he takes as many real-world jobs as dream ones, so he can still dream. Not often; he finds that only significant events cause him to dream. Sometimes he just relives them, on the occasions when he's lucky enough for them to be good, but when they were bad to begin with...
Eames dreams about finding Arthur, only it's not how it happened. In reality, he managed to get his lover breathing again. In his nightmares either Arthur's already dead when he gets there, or he never responds and dies even as Eames tries to save him, when he's right there and still can't stop it. Just remembering it sends ice through his veins, and Eames clenches his teeth, reminding himself that it's just a dream. Except it's never just a dream in their line of work, so he reaches out to the nightstand for his totem, familiar in his hands, telling him that this is real.
This is reality, and Arthur is alive next to him. It's just... Arthur's body is still recovering from what happened, and he moves less in his sleep, he doesn't murmur like he usually does. He is almost unsettlingly still and quiet, at least compared to what Eames is used to from him, and it just doesn't feel right. So he supposes he can be forgiven for finding himself putting his head on the other man's chest, feeling Arthur breathe and being able to hear his heartbeat. The steady thump is soothing, and Eames finally starts to truly calm down. Of course, he doesn't expect Arthur to wake up, not when along with being quieter Arthur has also been sleeping more heavily.
“Eames, what... Um, is everything all right?”
Eames lifts his head and then flinches away from the sudden light as Arthur turns the lamp on. “Bloody hell, warn a man... Why would you think something's wrong, Arthur?”
Arthur looks away, uncomfortable. “You're not much for cuddling,” he points out. “And you've been weird since I got out of the hospital.”
Eames laughs, but he knows it's hollow. “Weird, that's one way to put it, I suppose,” he says, almost to himself.
“Eames, what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing, I know you better than that.”
“What's wrong? Christ, Arthur, you almost died right here in this room! Obviously something's wrong!” Eames would probably be calmer about it if he hadn't just woken up from not being able to save Arthur, but as it is he can barely keep it together. He looks down at his hands, trying to calm down. A hand under his chin makes him look up into dark eyes.
“Is that what this is about? Daniel, I'm fine. You got to me in time, and the insomnia's gone, everything is fine.”
“And what if it wasn't? If' I'd been held up in traffic for a couple of minutes, if...”
“You weren't, though. Why are you torturing yourself about it? Is that why you had your head on my chest?”
Eames looks away, not sure if he's upset or angry or something he hasn't even thought of. “Because I can't stop, all right? Because I go to sleep and it happens again, only you're already gone by the time I get here, or I can't get you to start breathing and you slip away right in front of me. And then I wake up and you're so damn quiet and it's not like you, so yeah, maybe I just wanted to be damn sure you were still alive because for a minute there I didn't actually know.”
Arthur is silent for a moment, and then he just says, “Oh.”
“Is that all you can say?”
“I don't... I don't know what you want me to say,” Arthur points out.
Eames closes his eyes, not sure what else to do. “I looked it up,” he says, because he's been thinking about that too. The night Arthur almost died, he'd used his phone to Google the foreign words Arthur had said to him more than once, had whispered in the dark, because while he'd wondered before, he needed to know once everything had happened. “That phrase... Ani ova - ”
He knows he's saying it wrong, but Arthur knows what he means and corrects him quietly. “Ani ovev otcha. OK, so now you know what I was saying.”
Eames nods. “You told me you loved me; why not just say it in English?”
“Because I didn't know how you'd react,” Arthur says, as though this should be obvious. He laughs, but not like he thinks it's funny, more like if he doesn't laugh he'll do something worse, something painful. “The way things are, it's... It's good. And I didn't want to fuck that up, not when I couldn't be sure... This way, if you wanted to know that badly you could find out, but if not then nothing had to change. I meant it, though, you should know that. I wouldn't say that, any language, if I didn't.”
Eames isn't sure what to say, isn't used to seeing Arthur uncomfortable and unwilling to look at him. “I looked it up that night,” he says finally. “I needed to know because, God, for a minute there I really did think I'd lost you, and what they say, it's true. You don't know what you have... I love you, and it took that to make me sure of it. And then it turned out you had more nerve than I did. You're the one who finally snapped and kissed me first, and now you've said those three words first. I can't seem to catch up, can I?”
Arthur turns back to him, studying him for a long moment before leaning in for a long, lazy kiss. He pulled back just slightly to whisper against Eames' lips, “As long as we both get there it doesn't matter, and you're not losing me anytime soon, Mr. Eames.”
Eames believes him, but... Once Arthur's asleep again, he finds himself resting his head on the point man's chest again, just to be sure. And if nothing else, he doesn't have another nightmare.
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Summary: A sequel to "What Does It Take?", where Eames is still haunted by how close he came to losing Arthur. Also a fill for this Round 11 kink meme prompt: community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/13659.html
"What Does It Take?" is here: fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/15120.html
Eames' eyes snap open in the dark, and only years of learning to wake silently keeps him from making a noise when he does. That and the fact that he feels like he can't breathe. He turns his head and feels some of the tightness in his chest loosen when he sees Arthur next to him, head turned away from the forger.
Eames sits up slowly, dropping his face into his hands and taking deep, calming breaths. It had only been two weeks ago when Arthur had nearly died, a bout of PASIV-induced insomnia lasting longer than usual and leaving him so incoherent he'd forgotten that he couldn't take more than one or two sleeping pills. Eames doesn't think he'll soon forget what it felt like to come here to Arthur's apartment and find the man utterly still on the bed, not breathing with his lips turning blue.
He dreams about it, because unfortunately for him his skill set is varied enough that he takes as many real-world jobs as dream ones, so he can still dream. Not often; he finds that only significant events cause him to dream. Sometimes he just relives them, on the occasions when he's lucky enough for them to be good, but when they were bad to begin with...
Eames dreams about finding Arthur, only it's not how it happened. In reality, he managed to get his lover breathing again. In his nightmares either Arthur's already dead when he gets there, or he never responds and dies even as Eames tries to save him, when he's right there and still can't stop it. Just remembering it sends ice through his veins, and Eames clenches his teeth, reminding himself that it's just a dream. Except it's never just a dream in their line of work, so he reaches out to the nightstand for his totem, familiar in his hands, telling him that this is real.
This is reality, and Arthur is alive next to him. It's just... Arthur's body is still recovering from what happened, and he moves less in his sleep, he doesn't murmur like he usually does. He is almost unsettlingly still and quiet, at least compared to what Eames is used to from him, and it just doesn't feel right. So he supposes he can be forgiven for finding himself putting his head on the other man's chest, feeling Arthur breathe and being able to hear his heartbeat. The steady thump is soothing, and Eames finally starts to truly calm down. Of course, he doesn't expect Arthur to wake up, not when along with being quieter Arthur has also been sleeping more heavily.
“Eames, what... Um, is everything all right?”
Eames lifts his head and then flinches away from the sudden light as Arthur turns the lamp on. “Bloody hell, warn a man... Why would you think something's wrong, Arthur?”
Arthur looks away, uncomfortable. “You're not much for cuddling,” he points out. “And you've been weird since I got out of the hospital.”
Eames laughs, but he knows it's hollow. “Weird, that's one way to put it, I suppose,” he says, almost to himself.
“Eames, what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing, I know you better than that.”
“What's wrong? Christ, Arthur, you almost died right here in this room! Obviously something's wrong!” Eames would probably be calmer about it if he hadn't just woken up from not being able to save Arthur, but as it is he can barely keep it together. He looks down at his hands, trying to calm down. A hand under his chin makes him look up into dark eyes.
“Is that what this is about? Daniel, I'm fine. You got to me in time, and the insomnia's gone, everything is fine.”
“And what if it wasn't? If' I'd been held up in traffic for a couple of minutes, if...”
“You weren't, though. Why are you torturing yourself about it? Is that why you had your head on my chest?”
Eames looks away, not sure if he's upset or angry or something he hasn't even thought of. “Because I can't stop, all right? Because I go to sleep and it happens again, only you're already gone by the time I get here, or I can't get you to start breathing and you slip away right in front of me. And then I wake up and you're so damn quiet and it's not like you, so yeah, maybe I just wanted to be damn sure you were still alive because for a minute there I didn't actually know.”
Arthur is silent for a moment, and then he just says, “Oh.”
“Is that all you can say?”
“I don't... I don't know what you want me to say,” Arthur points out.
Eames closes his eyes, not sure what else to do. “I looked it up,” he says, because he's been thinking about that too. The night Arthur almost died, he'd used his phone to Google the foreign words Arthur had said to him more than once, had whispered in the dark, because while he'd wondered before, he needed to know once everything had happened. “That phrase... Ani ova - ”
He knows he's saying it wrong, but Arthur knows what he means and corrects him quietly. “Ani ovev otcha. OK, so now you know what I was saying.”
Eames nods. “You told me you loved me; why not just say it in English?”
“Because I didn't know how you'd react,” Arthur says, as though this should be obvious. He laughs, but not like he thinks it's funny, more like if he doesn't laugh he'll do something worse, something painful. “The way things are, it's... It's good. And I didn't want to fuck that up, not when I couldn't be sure... This way, if you wanted to know that badly you could find out, but if not then nothing had to change. I meant it, though, you should know that. I wouldn't say that, any language, if I didn't.”
Eames isn't sure what to say, isn't used to seeing Arthur uncomfortable and unwilling to look at him. “I looked it up that night,” he says finally. “I needed to know because, God, for a minute there I really did think I'd lost you, and what they say, it's true. You don't know what you have... I love you, and it took that to make me sure of it. And then it turned out you had more nerve than I did. You're the one who finally snapped and kissed me first, and now you've said those three words first. I can't seem to catch up, can I?”
Arthur turns back to him, studying him for a long moment before leaning in for a long, lazy kiss. He pulled back just slightly to whisper against Eames' lips, “As long as we both get there it doesn't matter, and you're not losing me anytime soon, Mr. Eames.”
Eames believes him, but... Once Arthur's asleep again, he finds himself resting his head on the point man's chest again, just to be sure. And if nothing else, he doesn't have another nightmare.