There's Something I Should Have Told You
Hey, I've finally done a completely standalone Inception fic! Well... OK, no. The backstory stuff I'm developing for my OT3 series sort of applies here, but that's really it. Consider this yet another road not taken, which I guess ties it in with my other Arthur/Eames fic too... Shit. Anyway, on to the fic!
Title: There's Something I Should Have Told You
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Fandom: Inception
Summary: While Eames is in a coma, Arthur says some things he'd never have the nerve to say when the forger is awake. When Eames recovers, he remembers everything. A fill for this Round 5 Kink Meme prompt: community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/7339.html
Disclaimer: Arthur and Eames - and the rest of the team, who cameo - are not mine. Nor is the song quote (and yes, I am a bit of a RENThead).
Author's Note: This is directly to the prompter - That bloody Ianto speech you linked to broke my heart! I hope you are happy... But then I wrote this with its happy ending, and my heart was less broken.
How'd I let you slip away
When I'm longing so to hold you?
Now I'd die for one more day
'Cause there's something I should have told you
Yes, there's something I should have told you... - Your Eyes, RENT
“Arthur, you need to go back to the hotel or something. Get some rest. You can't sleep in a chair forever.” Ariadne is worried and well-meaning, but Arthur ignores her. Just like he ignored Cobb's order to leave yesterday. Yusuf has threatened to sedate him and drag him to his hotel room, never mind that the reservation's probably expired. Saito is the only one who hasn't tried to make him go, pointing out to the head nurse that he is the hospital's most generous donor and if Mr. Levine does not want to leave Mr. Eames' room, he does not have to. He's sure the head of the hospital would agree. Arthur would be grateful if he could bring himself to feel anything.
Ariadne leaves, and he hears her say to someone in the hallway - probably Cobb - “Well, I tried.” Arthur doesn't even glance around, just sits there. He's not even looking at Eames, far too silent and still in the bed, he's staring into space like all the answers are there, in the air or maybe outside the window.
The thing of it is, he doesn't even have any right to be here. He and Eames aren't friends, they're coworkers. Coworkers who occasionally fuck each other in anonymous hotel rooms in cities that are all the same despite different skylines and languages spoken. He shouldn't be here. And yet he is. He's here because... He can't not be here.
It's not right, he thinks inanely. Eames hates the color white, he shouldn't be in a bed with white sheets and a white blanket, and he shouldn't be flat on his back. Eames sleeps on his stomach or sometimes on his side, Arthur's the one who sleeps on his back, this isn't right. But what is really not right is that Eames is hooked up to machines, machines that beep and are keeping him alive. That IV should be for a PASIV if it has to be there at all, and the other machines just shouldn't be here.
And what almost makes it worse is that it's not even the job, but a stupid car accident that put Eames here. A drunk idiot who couldn't be bothered to give his keys away T-boned Eames' car. And this isn't the first time someone Arthur knows has been hurt by a drunk driver, only last time it was his mother and she died, and the driver was his father. Arthur is ambidextrous now because his right arm was broken in that accident. He wishes he knew who the driver was this time, only he's glad he doesn't because he's not sure what he'd do if he did.
He closes his eyes for a moment, and then he looks down at Eames' still face. He's not sure when he took the other man's hand, but he doesn't let go. “Damn it, Eames...” Arthur shakes his head. This is stupid, Eames can't hear him, so why is he talking?
They say it's good to talk to people in comas. He's even heard the theory that even if the coma patient can't understand what's being said, hearing familiar voices makes him or her want to wake up. Arthur can't see why his voice would help Eames want to wake up, but it can't make things worse.
“I don't know what I'm supposed to say to you. I mean, when you're awake it's easy, we just make snarky comments at each other all day. Ariadne told me once that it's obvious we're flirting when we do that. I've never thought of it like that, it's not... I mean, flirting's for high school girls, isn't it?”
He sounds like an idiot, but it's not like anyone can actually hear him right now, so it doesn't really matter. “You remember the old days, Dreamscape? Christ, it feels like so long ago. Lieutenant Eames, Agent Levine, everyone knew we were a crack team even though they all thought we couldn't stand each other? And then they broke up the program, and... When you said good-bye you kissed me. I hated you for that, you know. I fucking hated you for it. Because in all that time, with the pet names, and the verbal sparring, and the going in and out of each other's heads... I cared about you. More than I should have. And I didn't want you to know it. Hell, I still don't, not really.”
Arthur laughs shakily. “Christ. I'm rambling like an idiot, aren't I? If you were awake, you'd be teasing me mercilessly. Of course, if you were awake I wouldn't be saying any of this.” He runs a hand through his hair, which is already tousled beyond repair by the amount of times he's done just that. “I guess you'd be pretty pissed off about that. I can talk to you when you're 'bloody unconscious', as I can just hear you putting it, but not when you're awake and can reply.”
“But see, that's just it. I can't talk to you when you can respond, because... I'm afraid of what you'd say. You don't take anything seriously, or at least you never act like you do. I couldn't stand it if I actually told you... Well.”
Arthur pauses, reflecting on the fact that he's so afraid to talk about this that even when Eames is in a coma, it's hard to say. “I'm from Philadelphia, you know. I never told you that. I hate it here, every time I come here something goes wrong. I've lived all over this city, you know? Side effect of foster care. I never mentioned that either. But I probably should have. It's why I can't say this kind of shit when you're awake. I spent ten years in the system, and I lived with seven different families. They decided not to keep me, so I guess something must have been wrong with me.”
He scowls at that one. Why did he say that? “I sound pathetic. But... I can't shake that feeling. I can't shake the expectation that every time I start to care, I'm going to get tossed aside. And you, you just... You wouldn't go away, you wouldn't stop pushing. And all I can think is, if I ever make it easy for you, if I ever give in and admit that I... You like the chase, the challenge, and if I give you what you want, you're not going to bother with me anymore, will you? I wouldn't blame you, it would hardly be the first time it's happened to me.”
Arthur closes his eyes, swallowing hard. “It seems so stupid now. You might leave me anyway, if you don't wake up then all this hiding didn't do me any good after all. I should have known that, because almost everyone lies, but God knows everyone leaves. One way or another, everyone leaves, and I thought pretending I didn't really care would make it easier when you did, but now that might be happening, and it doesn't. It doesn't, because I was only pretending, and I really do care. Fuck, Eames, I'm in love with you, and I might go crazy if you fucking leave me this way. So, so not right this second necessarily, although that would be preferred, but it doesn't have to be, you have to wake the fuck up, all right? 'Cause I can't... I know you're going to leave anyway, but please not yet. Not now, not like this, I'd rather have you walk away. At least you'd still be alive, and even if you left me it would be better if I knew that than this would be.”
There's no response - did he expect there to be, really? - and Arthur slumps in his chair, not sure what else there is to do. There's nothing else to say, that's for sure. He can't believe he just said all that. It's all true, but... He just hopes that people in comas can't hear what's said around them. Because he really doesn't want to know what Eames would think of this inane rambling monologue, especially since it's all true.
~ ~ ~
At first, Eames is sure he dreamed it. Oddly enough, he can - sort of - remember being in the coma, or at least he remembers being in what was basically a black void and hearing voices. Sometimes he could make out what they were saying and sometimes he couldn't, but there was one voice that was always constant when there was talking going on around him. Arthur's.
He's sure he dreamed that because when he wakes up, he's alone, and he doesn't see Arthur at all until he's actually out of the hospital. But the thing is, when he was waking up, he could swear he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye slipping from the room, as if running away. And then there's the offhand comment Yusuf made to him. “I know you and Arthur are just supposed to be fuck buddies, but you know he spent the entire time you were out sitting with you. We couldn't get him out of there.”
Yusuf says this like it's no big deal, with a faint hint of exasperation for Arthur's idiocy, even. But for Eames, it's an extremely important bit of information. Because there are some bits of the things he'd heard that are very, very clear. One of them is Arthur, sounding so very unlike himself, speaking in a tone that was so lost Eames just wanted to do something, anything, to get rid of it and make it never come back.
But even more than the tone was what Arthur said in that tone. The fact that he admitted to loving Eames would be enough to leave Eames reeling with shock, but the rest of it... Christ.
“You like the chase, the challenge, and if I give you what you want, you're not going to bother with me anymore, will you? I wouldn't blame you, it would hardly be the first time it's happened to me.”
“I know you're going to leave anyway, but please not yet.”
Eames isn't the most secure person on the planet when it comes to emotions, though in everything else he's confident as hell. He's always been drawn to Arthur, always found the other man intriguing, but when they started sleeping together he'd expected it to just be friends with benefits, nothing serious. Only Arthur managed to get under his skin, to make Eames fall in love with him. And until now, Eames thought it was just him, that Arthur was still in it for the casual sex this had started out as. He'd been all right with that, for the most part. As long as Arthur never figured it out, of course. Because rejection's never pleasant.
This, he is not all right with. Finding out that Arthur actually is in love with him, but utterly convinced that Eames won't stay, that he's just going to leave if Arthur ever actually admits it. Eames doesn't think he quite deserves that. Sure, he jokes about everything, but...
“I guess something must have been wrong with me... I can't shake that feeling. I can't shake the expectation that every time I start to care, I'm going to get tossed aside.”
Goddamn it. So maybe it's not his fault entirely that Arthur is so damn skittish, and he supposes he can't talk, because if either one of them had had the fucking nerve to say something, this would not be a problem right now. But he can't stand this, knowing that this is what Arthur thinks about both Eames and himself, that Arthur is so sure there's something “wrong” with him.
Eames shows up at Arthur's hotel room, and the point man raises an eyebrow. “I thought you had stitches and it wasn't a good...”
Eames shakes his head, and Arthur trails off. “We need to talk, darling,” he says, his tone firm enough that he hopes Arthur will be able to see he's not taking no for an answer about this. Of course, he doesn't.
“Talk about what?” Arthur says, arms folded across his chest, standing stiffly in his doorway.
“Oh, nothing much. Maybe about the fact that you can tell me all kinds of things - things I ought to know - when I'm bloody unconscious, but not when I'm awake.” Yeah, he remembers that tiny jibe as well, and watches as Arthur's face goes pale.
“Fuck. No, you can't possibly... Shit. Please tell me some nurse told you I was rambling, or Yusuf did, or Ariadne, Cobb... Who told you, and what did they say I said?”
“Nobody told me. I could hear you.”
“You...” Arthur takes a deep breath, visibly composes himself. “All right. Well. Let's just keep this simple then. I apologize if anything I've said made you uncomfortable or... whatever, but as you know, it doesn't affect anything on the job. So I imagine you'll want to end our... other arrangement, but I am hoping you'll still - ”
Eames cuts him off there, because shock had him silent for the first bit of this crazy speech, but he's not letting Arthur say one more word. “Arthur, what the fuck are you on about? Where the hell did you get the idea that I want to end anything?”
“I... You... Oh, come on, Eames, I know you. This is exactly the kind of thing you don't want from anyone, or at least not from me. That's not what we are to each other, I know that, I just... You were... Look, I'm trying to make this simple, I don't see why you want to drag it out when we both know how this is going to end.”
“No, actually, I don't think we do, and I also don't think you want us having this conversation in the hallway, so will you let me in, for God's sake?”
Arthur's shoulders slump, and he moves back to let Eames pass, shutting the door behind him and turning so his back is pressed against it. “Fine. All right, Mr. Eames, what part of this have I got wrong, and can you please get it over with? I don't have any desire to drag this out.”
“Let's start with how you seem to know what it is I want. Unless you performed an extraction on me - which I doubt - or have suddenly become telepathic, how could you possibly know that? You're right, you do know me, rather well in fact, but you don't know everything. And that ridiculous speech out there made that perfectly clear.”
Arthur doesn't say a damn thing, just gives Eames an utterly blank expression. And if it wasn't for the look in his eyes, which seems to be the visual equivalent of that tone Eames never wants to hear from Arthur again, he'd be furious. As it is, he's just incredibly frustrated.
“You're expecting me to leave. Like everyone does, yes? That's what you said.” Eames takes a few steps closer until he's in Arthur's space, which he knows in this state will probably piss the point man off, but he doesn't care. “If you're not giving me a challenge, not leading me on one of those merry chases of which you are so fond, I'll walk away? Is that really what you think? Because I need to know.”
“What the fuck do you want? Can't you just leave me be?”
“Considering that I want you, no, Arthur, I really can't.”
“Look, Eames, if this is because you feel bad or sorry for me after - ”
This time Eames kisses him, pushing him back into the door and all but attacking his mouth. Yeah, he has stitches, and it's probably not a good idea to do anything but this right now, but Arthur needs to shut the fuck up for a minute. Moving back, he glares at him. “The only thing I feel bad about is knowing that the both of us have been idiots for a long time, apparently. If I wanted what you think I want, to keep on with this casual bit, I would have never said a thing. I'd pretend I didn't remember, you'd never be the wiser, and we'd carry on. But, since I happen to be in love with you, that's not how this is going to go.”
“You're in love with me.” It's a flat statement, and yet there is a question in Arthur's eyes.
“That's what I said.”
Arthur considers this for a moment, and then he's the one who initiates the next kiss, slower and less harsh than Eames was, but no less potent for that. When he pulls back, his eyes are guarded. “You'd better not be messing with me.”
“Never. And for the record, I have no intentions of ever leaving. Just so you're aware.”
Arthur stares at him, and then nods. “I'm going to hold you to that, you know.”
“I'd expect nothing less.”
Title: There's Something I Should Have Told You
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Fandom: Inception
Summary: While Eames is in a coma, Arthur says some things he'd never have the nerve to say when the forger is awake. When Eames recovers, he remembers everything. A fill for this Round 5 Kink Meme prompt: community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/7339.html
Disclaimer: Arthur and Eames - and the rest of the team, who cameo - are not mine. Nor is the song quote (and yes, I am a bit of a RENThead).
Author's Note: This is directly to the prompter - That bloody Ianto speech you linked to broke my heart! I hope you are happy... But then I wrote this with its happy ending, and my heart was less broken.
How'd I let you slip away
When I'm longing so to hold you?
Now I'd die for one more day
'Cause there's something I should have told you
Yes, there's something I should have told you... - Your Eyes, RENT
“Arthur, you need to go back to the hotel or something. Get some rest. You can't sleep in a chair forever.” Ariadne is worried and well-meaning, but Arthur ignores her. Just like he ignored Cobb's order to leave yesterday. Yusuf has threatened to sedate him and drag him to his hotel room, never mind that the reservation's probably expired. Saito is the only one who hasn't tried to make him go, pointing out to the head nurse that he is the hospital's most generous donor and if Mr. Levine does not want to leave Mr. Eames' room, he does not have to. He's sure the head of the hospital would agree. Arthur would be grateful if he could bring himself to feel anything.
Ariadne leaves, and he hears her say to someone in the hallway - probably Cobb - “Well, I tried.” Arthur doesn't even glance around, just sits there. He's not even looking at Eames, far too silent and still in the bed, he's staring into space like all the answers are there, in the air or maybe outside the window.
The thing of it is, he doesn't even have any right to be here. He and Eames aren't friends, they're coworkers. Coworkers who occasionally fuck each other in anonymous hotel rooms in cities that are all the same despite different skylines and languages spoken. He shouldn't be here. And yet he is. He's here because... He can't not be here.
It's not right, he thinks inanely. Eames hates the color white, he shouldn't be in a bed with white sheets and a white blanket, and he shouldn't be flat on his back. Eames sleeps on his stomach or sometimes on his side, Arthur's the one who sleeps on his back, this isn't right. But what is really not right is that Eames is hooked up to machines, machines that beep and are keeping him alive. That IV should be for a PASIV if it has to be there at all, and the other machines just shouldn't be here.
And what almost makes it worse is that it's not even the job, but a stupid car accident that put Eames here. A drunk idiot who couldn't be bothered to give his keys away T-boned Eames' car. And this isn't the first time someone Arthur knows has been hurt by a drunk driver, only last time it was his mother and she died, and the driver was his father. Arthur is ambidextrous now because his right arm was broken in that accident. He wishes he knew who the driver was this time, only he's glad he doesn't because he's not sure what he'd do if he did.
He closes his eyes for a moment, and then he looks down at Eames' still face. He's not sure when he took the other man's hand, but he doesn't let go. “Damn it, Eames...” Arthur shakes his head. This is stupid, Eames can't hear him, so why is he talking?
They say it's good to talk to people in comas. He's even heard the theory that even if the coma patient can't understand what's being said, hearing familiar voices makes him or her want to wake up. Arthur can't see why his voice would help Eames want to wake up, but it can't make things worse.
“I don't know what I'm supposed to say to you. I mean, when you're awake it's easy, we just make snarky comments at each other all day. Ariadne told me once that it's obvious we're flirting when we do that. I've never thought of it like that, it's not... I mean, flirting's for high school girls, isn't it?”
He sounds like an idiot, but it's not like anyone can actually hear him right now, so it doesn't really matter. “You remember the old days, Dreamscape? Christ, it feels like so long ago. Lieutenant Eames, Agent Levine, everyone knew we were a crack team even though they all thought we couldn't stand each other? And then they broke up the program, and... When you said good-bye you kissed me. I hated you for that, you know. I fucking hated you for it. Because in all that time, with the pet names, and the verbal sparring, and the going in and out of each other's heads... I cared about you. More than I should have. And I didn't want you to know it. Hell, I still don't, not really.”
Arthur laughs shakily. “Christ. I'm rambling like an idiot, aren't I? If you were awake, you'd be teasing me mercilessly. Of course, if you were awake I wouldn't be saying any of this.” He runs a hand through his hair, which is already tousled beyond repair by the amount of times he's done just that. “I guess you'd be pretty pissed off about that. I can talk to you when you're 'bloody unconscious', as I can just hear you putting it, but not when you're awake and can reply.”
“But see, that's just it. I can't talk to you when you can respond, because... I'm afraid of what you'd say. You don't take anything seriously, or at least you never act like you do. I couldn't stand it if I actually told you... Well.”
Arthur pauses, reflecting on the fact that he's so afraid to talk about this that even when Eames is in a coma, it's hard to say. “I'm from Philadelphia, you know. I never told you that. I hate it here, every time I come here something goes wrong. I've lived all over this city, you know? Side effect of foster care. I never mentioned that either. But I probably should have. It's why I can't say this kind of shit when you're awake. I spent ten years in the system, and I lived with seven different families. They decided not to keep me, so I guess something must have been wrong with me.”
He scowls at that one. Why did he say that? “I sound pathetic. But... I can't shake that feeling. I can't shake the expectation that every time I start to care, I'm going to get tossed aside. And you, you just... You wouldn't go away, you wouldn't stop pushing. And all I can think is, if I ever make it easy for you, if I ever give in and admit that I... You like the chase, the challenge, and if I give you what you want, you're not going to bother with me anymore, will you? I wouldn't blame you, it would hardly be the first time it's happened to me.”
Arthur closes his eyes, swallowing hard. “It seems so stupid now. You might leave me anyway, if you don't wake up then all this hiding didn't do me any good after all. I should have known that, because almost everyone lies, but God knows everyone leaves. One way or another, everyone leaves, and I thought pretending I didn't really care would make it easier when you did, but now that might be happening, and it doesn't. It doesn't, because I was only pretending, and I really do care. Fuck, Eames, I'm in love with you, and I might go crazy if you fucking leave me this way. So, so not right this second necessarily, although that would be preferred, but it doesn't have to be, you have to wake the fuck up, all right? 'Cause I can't... I know you're going to leave anyway, but please not yet. Not now, not like this, I'd rather have you walk away. At least you'd still be alive, and even if you left me it would be better if I knew that than this would be.”
There's no response - did he expect there to be, really? - and Arthur slumps in his chair, not sure what else there is to do. There's nothing else to say, that's for sure. He can't believe he just said all that. It's all true, but... He just hopes that people in comas can't hear what's said around them. Because he really doesn't want to know what Eames would think of this inane rambling monologue, especially since it's all true.
~ ~ ~
At first, Eames is sure he dreamed it. Oddly enough, he can - sort of - remember being in the coma, or at least he remembers being in what was basically a black void and hearing voices. Sometimes he could make out what they were saying and sometimes he couldn't, but there was one voice that was always constant when there was talking going on around him. Arthur's.
He's sure he dreamed that because when he wakes up, he's alone, and he doesn't see Arthur at all until he's actually out of the hospital. But the thing is, when he was waking up, he could swear he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye slipping from the room, as if running away. And then there's the offhand comment Yusuf made to him. “I know you and Arthur are just supposed to be fuck buddies, but you know he spent the entire time you were out sitting with you. We couldn't get him out of there.”
Yusuf says this like it's no big deal, with a faint hint of exasperation for Arthur's idiocy, even. But for Eames, it's an extremely important bit of information. Because there are some bits of the things he'd heard that are very, very clear. One of them is Arthur, sounding so very unlike himself, speaking in a tone that was so lost Eames just wanted to do something, anything, to get rid of it and make it never come back.
But even more than the tone was what Arthur said in that tone. The fact that he admitted to loving Eames would be enough to leave Eames reeling with shock, but the rest of it... Christ.
“You like the chase, the challenge, and if I give you what you want, you're not going to bother with me anymore, will you? I wouldn't blame you, it would hardly be the first time it's happened to me.”
“I know you're going to leave anyway, but please not yet.”
Eames isn't the most secure person on the planet when it comes to emotions, though in everything else he's confident as hell. He's always been drawn to Arthur, always found the other man intriguing, but when they started sleeping together he'd expected it to just be friends with benefits, nothing serious. Only Arthur managed to get under his skin, to make Eames fall in love with him. And until now, Eames thought it was just him, that Arthur was still in it for the casual sex this had started out as. He'd been all right with that, for the most part. As long as Arthur never figured it out, of course. Because rejection's never pleasant.
This, he is not all right with. Finding out that Arthur actually is in love with him, but utterly convinced that Eames won't stay, that he's just going to leave if Arthur ever actually admits it. Eames doesn't think he quite deserves that. Sure, he jokes about everything, but...
“I guess something must have been wrong with me... I can't shake that feeling. I can't shake the expectation that every time I start to care, I'm going to get tossed aside.”
Goddamn it. So maybe it's not his fault entirely that Arthur is so damn skittish, and he supposes he can't talk, because if either one of them had had the fucking nerve to say something, this would not be a problem right now. But he can't stand this, knowing that this is what Arthur thinks about both Eames and himself, that Arthur is so sure there's something “wrong” with him.
Eames shows up at Arthur's hotel room, and the point man raises an eyebrow. “I thought you had stitches and it wasn't a good...”
Eames shakes his head, and Arthur trails off. “We need to talk, darling,” he says, his tone firm enough that he hopes Arthur will be able to see he's not taking no for an answer about this. Of course, he doesn't.
“Talk about what?” Arthur says, arms folded across his chest, standing stiffly in his doorway.
“Oh, nothing much. Maybe about the fact that you can tell me all kinds of things - things I ought to know - when I'm bloody unconscious, but not when I'm awake.” Yeah, he remembers that tiny jibe as well, and watches as Arthur's face goes pale.
“Fuck. No, you can't possibly... Shit. Please tell me some nurse told you I was rambling, or Yusuf did, or Ariadne, Cobb... Who told you, and what did they say I said?”
“Nobody told me. I could hear you.”
“You...” Arthur takes a deep breath, visibly composes himself. “All right. Well. Let's just keep this simple then. I apologize if anything I've said made you uncomfortable or... whatever, but as you know, it doesn't affect anything on the job. So I imagine you'll want to end our... other arrangement, but I am hoping you'll still - ”
Eames cuts him off there, because shock had him silent for the first bit of this crazy speech, but he's not letting Arthur say one more word. “Arthur, what the fuck are you on about? Where the hell did you get the idea that I want to end anything?”
“I... You... Oh, come on, Eames, I know you. This is exactly the kind of thing you don't want from anyone, or at least not from me. That's not what we are to each other, I know that, I just... You were... Look, I'm trying to make this simple, I don't see why you want to drag it out when we both know how this is going to end.”
“No, actually, I don't think we do, and I also don't think you want us having this conversation in the hallway, so will you let me in, for God's sake?”
Arthur's shoulders slump, and he moves back to let Eames pass, shutting the door behind him and turning so his back is pressed against it. “Fine. All right, Mr. Eames, what part of this have I got wrong, and can you please get it over with? I don't have any desire to drag this out.”
“Let's start with how you seem to know what it is I want. Unless you performed an extraction on me - which I doubt - or have suddenly become telepathic, how could you possibly know that? You're right, you do know me, rather well in fact, but you don't know everything. And that ridiculous speech out there made that perfectly clear.”
Arthur doesn't say a damn thing, just gives Eames an utterly blank expression. And if it wasn't for the look in his eyes, which seems to be the visual equivalent of that tone Eames never wants to hear from Arthur again, he'd be furious. As it is, he's just incredibly frustrated.
“You're expecting me to leave. Like everyone does, yes? That's what you said.” Eames takes a few steps closer until he's in Arthur's space, which he knows in this state will probably piss the point man off, but he doesn't care. “If you're not giving me a challenge, not leading me on one of those merry chases of which you are so fond, I'll walk away? Is that really what you think? Because I need to know.”
“What the fuck do you want? Can't you just leave me be?”
“Considering that I want you, no, Arthur, I really can't.”
“Look, Eames, if this is because you feel bad or sorry for me after - ”
This time Eames kisses him, pushing him back into the door and all but attacking his mouth. Yeah, he has stitches, and it's probably not a good idea to do anything but this right now, but Arthur needs to shut the fuck up for a minute. Moving back, he glares at him. “The only thing I feel bad about is knowing that the both of us have been idiots for a long time, apparently. If I wanted what you think I want, to keep on with this casual bit, I would have never said a thing. I'd pretend I didn't remember, you'd never be the wiser, and we'd carry on. But, since I happen to be in love with you, that's not how this is going to go.”
“You're in love with me.” It's a flat statement, and yet there is a question in Arthur's eyes.
“That's what I said.”
Arthur considers this for a moment, and then he's the one who initiates the next kiss, slower and less harsh than Eames was, but no less potent for that. When he pulls back, his eyes are guarded. “You'd better not be messing with me.”
“Never. And for the record, I have no intentions of ever leaving. Just so you're aware.”
Arthur stares at him, and then nods. “I'm going to hold you to that, you know.”
“I'd expect nothing less.”