Archive of Our Own

Eames wandered down the street, feeling weary from the plane ride from Sydney. He only worked for Fischer’s company for a week, just long enough to get a good sense of Browning and all his mannerisms. The man was a slave driver, but he knew that as soon as he walked into Cobb’s workshop, he’d simply be trading Browning in for Arthur. 

At least Arthur was more pleasant to look at.

When he finally found the place, he promptly walked in and took a quick inventory of its inhabitants. He threw a wave at Yusuf, who had hidden himself amongst tables filled with flasks, bottles, and various other equipment. Cobb was in a quiet discussion with Saito, which unnerved Eames quite a bit. 

It wasn’t common for a client, especially one as rich and powerful as Saito, to involve himself in the job so closely. Normally, he’d chalk it up to micromanaging, but he knew it was more than that. There was a lot at stake for Saito, Cobb, and the whole bloody world, a whole lot riding on them being successful.

It took no time at all to find his own space, and he smiled as he settled down at the desk in the corner with a large mirror above it with two slimmer ones angled at the sides. There was an even larger set of mirrors beside it, one that he could stand in front of to see his entire reflection. On the desk were files, a cup full of Eames’ favorite kind of pen, and a fresh notepad. 

He had to admit that he missed working with Arthur. No other point man took their role so seriously, and none of them even tried to figure out how Eames liked to work and what helped him do his job right. By setting Eames up just how he wanted, however, Arthur expected a lot to come out of it. 

“Find the place okay?” Cobb said as he joined him.

“Yeah, your directions were alright.”

“Need anything?”

“Just one thing, but I’ll bring it up to Arthur. Speaking of which…” he said, glancing around. He spotted him after a moment, fast asleep in a lounge chair with a very young woman next to him. Eames nodded toward them and asked, “That's your new architect?”

“Yeah, Ariadne. Still in college and very green, but she’s a natural. Arthur’s been training her.”

With a hum, Eames slipped his hands in his pockets and strolled across the workshop, and he could hear Cobb following a few steps behind him. Beyond the two sleeping beauties, a ray of sunlight poured through the filmy windows, and Eames thought the effect was almost magical, making the darling pair look like a couple of sleeping fairies in a forest glen.

Naturally, Eames felt a burst of inspiration.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” he said gently as he approached them. 

Cobb coughed behind him, and Yusuf turned and gave him a dirty look, his eyes darting to Ariadne in particular. There was an innocence in her face, and it was probably natural that Yusuf would feel a bit protective of her, even after just meeting.

Eames grinned at him and then turned slightly, walking toward the empty chair next to Arthur. “It is the East, and Arthur is the sun.”

Yusuf huffed and muttered under his breath. As Eames settled into the chair and rolled it closer, he saw Saito watching him curiously. Cobb leaned back against a table with a look of pure amusement. 

He probably knew from the start that it was Arthur to whom Eames was waxing poetic. Arthur was always the subject of his teasing, though it was a shame that he was asleep this time and missed it. His reactions were half the fun.

Eames sighed and leaned in closer to his face. “Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her master, art far more fair than she.” 

He leered at the peaceful expression on Arthur’s face and then glanced back at Cobb. “I think I’ll pop in and introduce myself to the newbie.”

Cobb’s grin widened. “Arthur’s going to shoot you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Eames replied cheerfully as he hooked himself into the PASIV and let sleep overtake him. 

When he gained coherency in the dream, he heard Arthur’s voice drifting towards him. 

“…when you build each level, you don’t have to take it so far that you’re relying on perspectives to alter a person’s sense of gravity…”

Eames’ stomach swooped as he found himself standing on a platform facing steps going down, and yet he had the sensation that he was upside down. He smirked as he looked around, recognizing a realistic interpretation of Escher’s Relativity. Staircases were going every which way, doorways, archways, one Juliet balcony— how appropriate— and even a few trees decorating every level.

Hearing Arthur’s academic lecture voice carrying down from above, Eames craned his head around and looked up. Arthur and the new girl, Ariadne, were walking up a different set of steps above him, though to him. From Eames’ perspective, they looked like they were walking sideways along a wall. With a playful smile, he crept up to their level and forged an image of Arthur, fixing his clothing as he got a better look at what he was wearing so it would be a perfect match.

“But wouldn’t it be ideal if we could do this?” Ariadne asked as she waved her hand around. 

There was an energy around her, like she was a child just discovering a new playground. He quickly hid behind an arch as she twirled around slowly so she didn’t catch sight of him. Once he was out of her line of sight, he peeked out at her again. Her eyes were bright and calculating, and Eames could see the wheels turning in her head. 

“What better way to create a maze,” she continued, “than something like this where we could confuse projections and hide from them easily.”

Arthur smiled warmly as she turned her back on him, but his eyes were knowing. There were plenty of reasons why not, and Eames knew he was just about to get into that. He took the opportunity to slip out from his hiding place and approach them from behind.

“It would confuse the projections, yes,” he said in Arthur’s voice, and he nearly cracked up over the look on Arthur’s face as he turned to gawk at him. Eames gave him a quick wink, and Arthur relaxed and rolled his eyes. To Eames’ delight, Arthur stepped back with a smirk playing on his lips, allowing Eames to take over.

With him out of the way, Eames continued, “But it would also alert your subconscious that you were dreaming.”

Ariadne hummed as she wrinkled her little nose. “I see. And that would make the projections more aggressive.”

She was catching on quick, this one. Good.

“So, why are you showing me this?” she asked, finally turning toward him. From the expectant look on her face, she had no doubt that he was Arthur. Perfect.

He made sure he kept the sharpness out of his smile as he slipped his hand into his pocket like Arthur always did. He waved his other hand and said, “Because like any piece of art, it’s meant to inspire. This is a concept, and you can use some of its fundamental principles as you create your own dreamscapes, just in a more realistic way so your subconscious stays blissfully unaware that it's dreaming.”

“Are you going to show me a realistic example of that?” she asked with a smile. There was a challenging look in her eyes.

His smile widened. “I’ll show you one idea, but it’s up to you after that. I have a feeling that once you fully understand, you’ll be able to come up with far better plans than I could.”

“Thanks,” she said, suddenly looking shy as she turned away. “I hope I live up to your expectations.”

Once her back was turned, he glanced back at Arthur and gave him a mischievous smile. Arthur glared back, but then he shrugged. Even he couldn’t refute what he’d said. He may have started out in architecture, but he would have been a terrible architect. No imagination at all.

This girl, though. He could tell just by looking at her that she had loads of imagination. Eames looked forward to seeing what she could do.

“Do you enjoy being an architect?” he asked as he fell in step behind her.

“Yeah! I mean, I’m still in school, you know, so I haven’t been able to design anything yet. But this,” she said breathlessly as she took another set of stairs that took her in an entirely different direction, “this is brilliant. What would take months or years to plan and build can take seconds to create here. 

“And that’s if I’d ever get to create them in real life. In reality, buildings need a purpose and funding. Nothing could be erected for the mere sake of art, which is a shame. Then again, if I build something here, it’s gone as soon as the dream ends.”

“Yes, but it’ll live on in your memory. Everything in reality fades with time. Buildings are destroyed, scenery changes, and those that remember the old eventually pass away themselves.” He sighed heavily, feeling the melancholy of his own words. Still, he smiled at her and added, “Would the most beautiful aspects of our world be as beautiful, though, if they remained and weren’t fleeting?”

She smirked and tilted her head. “It depends. I’ve seen the Colosseum.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you do before you were a point man?” she asked, gazing at him intently.

He knew the answer to that, of course, but he hadn’t messed with her and Arthur nearly enough to his liking.

“I was a stripper,” he said with a straight face. 

“Oh,” she said, her eyebrows rising in surprise. 

Eames could barely make out a huff from around the corner, but luckily, Ariadne hadn’t heard it. 

“I, um, didn’t expect that.”

Eames smiled and said, “I know, I don’t really give off that vibe.”

“No, not really but,” she paused and— bless her heart— she looked him over appraisingly, “you could pull it off.”

He leaned toward her and wiggled his eyebrows. “I can pull it off, with style.” He was delighted as she laughed at his little joke. Leaning back, he walked around her with a bit more swagger. “Of course, I haven’t done it in a while. I don’t move as fluidly now that I’ve shoved a huge stick up my ass.”

“Eames,” Arthur said warningly as he finally revealed himself.

Eames stuck out his bottom lip. “Aw, it was just getting good.”

“What?!” Ariadne cried as her head swiveled back and forth between them. “What’s happening right now? Arthur, you can duplicate yourself?”

Arthur sighed heavily, ignoring Eames as he laughed. “I can’t do that. I am Arthur,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest. Then he motioned to him and said, “This is Eames, the forger I was telling you about. He snuck in while our backs were turned. This is what he can do.”

She gazed at Eames with fresh eyes, her lips parted in wonder. “Oh, my God. So, you don’t actually look like Arthur?”

Eames snorted. “No, I don’t. In order to forge a person, I need to observe them for a time, and the longer I’ve known a person, the easier and more accurate my forgery is. I’ve worked with Arthur for years, heard all his lectures on Escher so often that I could do them in my sleep.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Eames said, always pleased to be admired. He turned to Arthur and reached out to finger his tie. “What about you, Arthur? Don’t you think I’m amazing?”

“I have frequently thought you were amazing,” he said, surprising him. His weak heart stuttered a little as Arthur stepped closer to him, scrutinizing every aspect of his face with a smirk. “Whenever I think that, however, you always manage to ruin it with your terrible sense of humor.”

“Aww, you don’t mean that. You love my sense of humor. Come on, Arthur, what do you really think of my forgery of you? Is it giving you ideas?” he purred and bit his bottom lip. He noted the way Arthur’s eyes darted down and grinned. “Could be kind of fun, right?” he whispered tantalizingly. “Fooling around with yourself?”

The corner of Arthur’s lips rose higher, dimpling his cheek. He slipped his hand out of his pocket, cocked the pistol in his hand, and shot Eames in the head.

Opening his eyes, Eames hummed sadly when he saw the ceiling of the workshop. He sat up and caught Cobb’s eye, standing almost exactly where he last saw him. 

Pouting, Eames said, “He shot me.”

All of them laughed, even Saito.

“I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did,” Cobb said.

Eames shrugged. “I was a good boy for a while. Fooled Ariadne into thinking I was Arthur.”

“She believed it?” Yusuf asked, and Eames turned to him with an offended look.

“I am a professional, as you well know. It worked just fine until I told her that Arthur used to be a stripper.”

Cobb laughed even harder at that, and Eames was glad to see it. The guy was still heartbroken over losing his wife. He could do with a bit of lightening up.

Eames looked over as Arthur and Ariadne began to stir. When Arthur caught his eye, he simply cocked an eyebrow and sat up, unhooking the IV from his arm.

“How’s your setup?” he asked, nodding over to Eames’ desk. Always straight to business.

“Perfect as always. Thank you.”

“Need anything?”

“Yeah, can you get a duplicate of Browning’s glasses? He fiddles with them a lot, and I’d like to get a feel for the real thing in my hand.”

Arthur nodded. “Should be able to get you a pair by the end of today. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Brilliant.”

“Whoa,” Ariadne breathed as she sat up and stared at him. “You look nothing like Arthur. And you’re British!”

Eames winced and scratched his bristly cheek. “Not so much anymore. My citizenship is a bit… Well, no, I do have one alias that’s British, so I suppose you could say that.”

He grinned at her as her eyes inspected him thoroughly. Arthur huffed and got up to his feet in one quick movement. 

“Don’t give him too big of a head, Ariadne.”

“No, please do,” Eames said, winking at her. “I thrive on praise.”

“I disagree,” Arthur said without turning back. He didn’t even give Eames a chance to argue as he fell into a quiet discussion with Cobb.

Eames frowned as he watched him. While Arthur had been pleasant in the dream, even allowing him to be playful with his image, he seemed more tense in reality. Eames hadn’t seen him in several months, nearly a year. Running around with Cobb must have taken a toll on him.

He’d heard that their last botched job had been disastrous, enough to put a price on both their heads, and he was dying to hear what had happened. It was difficult, though, since Saito had been their last mark, and he was currently standing right there. The whole situation was bizarre. 

He was stirred from his thoughts when Ariadne took Arthur’s spot and leaned close to him. 

“How do you do it?” she whispered excitedly, and he couldn’t help warming to her inquisitive nature. “What’s your process?”

Eames glanced at Arthur, but he was still deep in conversation, so he probably had a little bit of time before he cracked the whip at him. He smiled at Ariadne and gave her a quick overview of how he observed a person, things to make note of, and how he put the person on as if he were changing his clothes.

“I work at my mirror over there, trying to replicate their mannerisms, how they hold themselves and the expressions they tend to make, and when I’m ready, I go under and work on my forge there to perfect it.”

“Can anybody do it?”

“Can anybody sing?” he threw back at her, and she snorted.

“Not well.”

“Exactly. It comes more naturally to some, especially people with big imaginations, but everyone would have to work hard to perfect it. I’ve been doing this for many years. There are other forgers, but no one can do it like me.”

Arthur came back at that moment, and he exhaled slowly, seeming irritated. “He’s not wrong… unfortunately,” he said, looking at Ariadne. His face softened slightly as he asked, “Are you ready go under again, or do you need a break?”

“No, I’m good,” she said, already moving back to her lounge chair. 

“Good. I’ll show you an example of what we were talking about earlier, a more realistic interpretation that could be used, and then we’ll take a longer break so you can conceptualize something yourself, and then we’ll test it out.”

“Perfect,” she said, resting back. After a moment, she frowned and lifted her head back up. “Wait, was I talking to you about that or Eames?”

Even Arthur looked unsure as he glanced at Eames. “I think you were talking to him… but he basically took the words right out of my mouth.”

Eames beamed and leaned closer to him. “I could do a lot more with your mouth if you’d let me.”

Arthur gave him a disparaging look. “You could try…” he said, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

With a laugh, Eames hopped out of the chair, deciding to inspect the rest of the workshop before settling down at his own desk to work. He stopped, however, as he glanced over Yusuf’s area.

“Hey, Yusuf!” he called since he was currently getting a cup of coffee. “You stole one of my pens!”

“Did not! It was on my desk when I got here.”

“Eames,” Arthur said sternly, “those pens are for everyone.”

“Really?” Eames asked, feeling wounded. They were his favorites, after all. He was certain Arthur had got them just for him.

As if reading his mind, Arthur smirked and said, “You’re not that special.”

After landing such a brutal blow, Arthur chuckled, leaned back, and fell asleep. 

Eames whimpered and slowly wandered back to his desk. “O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”

As he passed him, Cobb patted him consolingly on the back. “It is his favorite thing to do.”

***

After days of arguing and tense jabs, Eames had finally developed a plan that everyone seemed to believe in, even Arthur. Having a solid direction lightened the atmosphere, and they all threw themselves into their prospective roles. 

Cobb worked with Yusuf to get the formulas right, Arthur helped Ariadne finish up the first level of the dream and started ironing out the second, and Eames was practicing what he’d say as Browning to plant a seed of doubt in Robert’s mind that would naturally lead to some sense of reconciliation with his father by the third level of the dream. Saito was quiet and observant, seeming to enjoy the process as much as he was making sure they would be able to follow through.

Later that evening, Eames glanced up at the darkened windows and checked his watch. It was just after eight, a little early to go back to the hotel, but since they were making progress, he wanted to reward himself with a good drink. He didn’t want to have one alone, though.

Leaning back in his chair, he glanced around the workshop. Saito was gone, Ariadne was busy crafting her totem, and Cobb was dreaming with Yusuf monitoring him. Arthur was alone at his desk, writing with a deeply furrowed brow. 

How could he still look so stressed? They were finally on the right track. Well, it was as good a time as any to try to lure him away. About once every job they worked together, he was able to convince Arthur to have a drink with him, and Eames knew this was his chance.

After cleaning up his desk, he turned off his lamp and strolled over to Arthur. He propped himself on the corner of it, and when Arthur glanced up at him, he smiled.

“Fancy a drink?”

Arthur’s face relaxed, but he didn’t answer right away. He straightened in his seat and looked around, checking to see what everyone else was doing. When he was finished, his eyes trailed down to his notebook, and he stared at it for a full minute. Finally, he nodded, closed the notebook, and began straightening his desk.

Eames beamed and slipped off his desk, giving Arthur space to do what he needed. There were times to tease him and times to back off, and he wanted Arthur in a good mood for their tête-à-tête. He was as efficient as always and had all his work packed in his bag in a jiffy. 

They sent a wave to Yusuf, the only one who noticed their quiet exit. Cobb was still asleep, and Ariadne was entranced by her work. He let Arthur take the lead as they wandered out of the workshop, knowing that he knew the streets of Paris better than he did and probably had a better sense of where they could have a nice drink. 

Sure enough, he stayed far from the more touristy areas, anything with a view of the Eiffel Tower. Eames was confused, however, when Arthur walked straight into a pizza place, which wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He followed him, of course, but he did raise his eyebrows at Arthur when he glanced back over his shoulder. 

He grinned and said, “This way,” and kept moving through the restaurant toward an unassuming black door toward the back. 

As Arthur opened the door, Eames could see that there was a completely different world on the other side of it, spying geometric wallpaper and dim lighting.

“Ooooh,” he said as he slipped inside. “This is exciting.”

Arthur chuckled. “It’s designed like a speakeasy. Like it?”

“You know that I do.”

“Here,” he said, nodding at two cozy armchairs with one small table in between. “I’ll get us some drinks. Anything you’re in the mood for?”

Eames smirked at him as he got comfortable. “Surprise me, darling.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but Eames could spy a slight smile on his lips as he wandered up to the bartender. He’d known Arthur for six or seven years, and while he can read most people right away, it had taken him a while to get his rhythm right with him. It was like dealing with an ancient stove that had many quirks to it, the kind where you had to light it, turn it off when it failed, give it a good kick, offer a prayer to Buddha, turn around, spit on the ground, and try one more time to light it, and only then did it work… sometimes.

Through many trials and errors, Eames had gradually learned all of Arthur’s quirks and preferences. Not that he followed all of them. Arthur didn’t like it when he picked on him so much, especially on a stressful job, but Eames loved it when he got all huffy. The best part was that Arthur never stayed mad for long, and Eames always had another chance to get on his good side.

“Le Vieux Carré,” Arthur said as he set a glass down beside Eames. He held an identical glass in his hand and sipped it immediately as he sat down. 

Eames watched him sigh as he set the glass down and let his bag slip off his shoulder, setting it underneath the table. His nimble fingers loosened the knot of his tie, and Eames’ mouth nearly watered as he pulled the tie away from his neck. He tore his heated gaze from Arthur before he got caught and picked up his drink. 

After taking a sip, he hummed appreciatively. “It’s good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Arthur said, his smirk pricking a dimple into his cheek. He’d also undone his top button. So scandalous. 

Eames tried so hard to get under his skin, but Arthur managed to get under his so easily. It was a treasure to see him lowering his guard. He did it so rarely, and Eames knew that it was a sign of trust, and it took a lot for Arthur to trust someone. 

He smiled as he watched Arthur tip his head back and exhaled slowly, releasing heaps of tension from his shoulders. 

“Feeling better?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Just a bit? Come on, Arthur. The plan is good.”

Arthur blinked and turned his head to look at him. “The plan is fantastic. I don’t doubt it or your ability to see it through.”

He said it conversationally, sounding far less condescending than he had a few days ago. It was almost enough to bring a blush to his cheeks, but he was old enough that he could keep his cool. He couldn’t resist smiling at him, though. 

“Thank you. What’s got you worried then? Ariadne?”

Arthur shook his head. “She’s great. Her designs are coming along nicely, and she’s a fast learner. I’m not worried about her.”

Eames frowned. Saito wasn’t involved much, and Yusuf’s role was restricted to the first level, so it probably wasn’t him.

“Cobb?” he asked, and he almost regretted saying it as Arthur’s brow furrowed low again.

“It’s getting worse,” he murmured as he picked his glass back up and took a long drink. 

When he set it down, Arthur licked his lips, and for a moment, Eames nearly forgot what they were talking about. He wished he could run his finger over Arthur’s wet lips or taste them for himself. He focused, though, when Arthur leaned in and met his gaze.

“When was the last time you worked with us?”

“Around nine months, I think.”

“Was Mal showing up in the dreams?”

“Here and there, enough to distract him.”

Arthur huffed and shook his head. “She’s become more than a distraction.”

In a low voice that only Eames could hear, Arthur told him what had happened on the Cobol job. For a shade to become so powerful that she told the mark he was dreaming and that Cobb and Arthur were there to steal information from his head, Eames couldn’t imagine what was going on with Cobb. Nothing could have prepared him for when Arthur told him that she had shot him in the leg, knowing he couldn’t wake up from that but still suffered.

“That wasn’t anything like Mal in real life,” Eames said incredulously. “This one is an aspect of Cobb’s mind. He hurt you?”  

Cobb and Arthur were close friends. Even when most people had washed their hands of Cobb in the wake of his wife’s death, Arthur stayed by his side and helped him survive.

“No,” Arthur said, though not with any certainty. “When it happened, he was able to dive for a gun and shoot me out of that dream. She’s obviously a manifestation of his guilt, like self-flagellation. Except now she’s not just hurting him… She’s determined to hurt anyone helping him,” he said, looking resigned and so, so tired.

Eames hummed as he took a long drink. “You think she’ll hurt us, too.”

“She already stabbed Ariadne when Cobb first took her under.” Arthur smiled wryly as Eames gaped at him. 

“And she stayed?”

“Well, she bolted… then she came back. Cobb knew she would. Being able to create in a dream state was too tempting for someone with so much natural ability like her.”

Eames huffed. “She’s either insane, or she’s got balls.”

Arthur’s smile widened. “Out of our entire crew, I think she’s the sanest.”

“So, she’s got some big, meaty balls,” he said just as one of the waiters came by to check on their table. Eames grinned at him as Arthur rubbed his face. “We’re fine here, thanks.”

The man thanked him and rushed off to check on other customers. Once he was gone, Arthur looked at him, struggling to keep a smile off his face.

“Yes, she does.” In an instant, his smile was gone, and Arthur once again looked weighed down and stressed. Damn. “It’s frustrating as hell… I didn’t even think inception was possible before, and now I can’t wait for us to try. I think we can do it, but Mal will interfere. If you spot her, I’d shoot her before Cobb even catches a glimpse of her.” 

Eames sighed heavily. “What a mess.”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’ve been training Ariadne and helping her with her designs? Even Cobb knows that the less he knows, the better. Less power to Mal.”

“Well, I’m grateful you told me, Arthur.”

His expression softened as he nodded. “I was waiting for a good opportunity. I wanted you to be prepared.” 

Eames felt warm, simmering in Arthur’s faith in him. Cobb was his closest friend, and Arthur was loyal to a fault. He wouldn’t have told just anyone about the monster haunting Cobb’s dreams, even if the job would be more successful if he did. 

“If we do this, though,” Arthur said in a breathy voice that tingled Eames’ blood, “If we succeed, Cobb can go home, and then I can do whatever I want.”

Eames reached across the table, gently touching Arthur’s arm. “You can do that anytime, darling. You don’t have to overextend yourself for the sake of friendship.”

Arthur gazed at his hand thoughtfully and didn’t pull away. “You know me.”

What he’d give to have Arthur’s loyalty to himself. Maybe one day…

“Yeah, I do,” Eames said, squeezing his arm before letting go. “Come on, tell me what you’ll do if Cobb gets to go home.”

Meeting his gaze, Arthur brightened and told him he’d like to take a long vacation, someplace warm with beaches and palm trees but not too populated. Eames was eager to offer some options that he was personally fond of. Arthur immediately nixed any in the Caribbean, too close to hurricane season.

With the talk of warmth and relaxation, the atmosphere between them emulated the topic, buzzing with an electric heat. They leaned closer to each other, and their voices lowered until Arthur’s voice sounded like velvet and Eames was practically purring. When he chanced a subtle touch here and there, grazing Arthur’s fingers or pressing his hand to his arm, Arthur found a way to reciprocate, often a playful nudge with his toes against Eames’ leg. 

When Arthur hooked his foot around the back of Eames’ calf and rubbed it, it made him want to pounce across the table, and he had to picture Yusuf in a string bikini to keep himself from getting hard. When they were done with their drinks, however, Arthur pulled out his wallet and put enough cash down to cover the whole bill.

“We should go. It’s getting late.”

Eames pulled a face. “If we must. You should have let me pay, though. I was the one to invite you out.”

Arthur stood and lugged his bag strap onto his shoulder. “You got the last one.”

“You remember?” 

Arthur’s eyes were warm as he gazed down at him. “Of course. You ready?” he asked, tilting his head. 

Oh, is he…? 

Whether or not Arthur was inviting him back to his place or not, he was at least indicating that he wasn’t finished with Eames just yet, and that was good enough for him. 

“I’m ready,” he said with an easy smile, and Arthur gave him a small one back. So far, so good.

Eames was already gliding into unknown territory with Arthur, having successfully flirted with him, even playing footsie under the table. If he could manage not putting his foot in his mouth, he was making fantastic progress. He was determined to take it as far as Arthur would allow.

He followed Arthur to the exit, coming out into a back alley. They walked side by side as they headed to a busier street, joining the crowds wandering around the city. Neither of them said anything for a time, too difficult to keep up a conversation when they were constantly being separated and jostled. Whenever they did, however, Arthur always managed to find him again, brushing his arm against Eames’ as they fell back in step with each other. 

They wandered further and further from Eames’ hotel, but even if Arthur didn’t invite him up, it was nice spending the extra time with him. The crowds thinned as Arthur guided him into a more residential area, making it easier for them to talk.

“What are you going to do after the job?” Arthur asked him. “Back to Mombasa?”

“Not right away. You’ve got me in the mood for someplace warm.”

“Mombasa’s not warm?” Arthur teased, and Eames laughed.

“It is, but I was thinking the Mediterranean.”

Arthur hummed serenely. “What about Greece?”

“God, I could go there just for the food.”

“Same. Maybe one of the islands…”

“Is that where you were thinking of going, too? Maybe we could save some money by—”

“Going together?” Arthur finished for him, giving him a dimpled smile that melted any bit of chill from the night air. 

“If you wanted to.”

Arthur hummed and turned down a quiet cobblestone lane. It was lined with white apartments with small, flowering trees planted on either side of every lamppost. They weren’t luxury apartments, but they were nice. Eames thought it was charming. 

But there was no hotel around, and the lane had a dead end. He realized with a thrill that Arthur lived here. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Arthur slowed down and paused in between two apartments, leaning back against the building.

He looked almost shy as he gazed at Eames, but open as well. It coaxed Eames to take a step closer to him. If Arthur gave him any more cues, he’d move in even more, which would be kissing distance. It was a good sign when Arthur’s lips took on an almost mischievous turn.

“How about we make a deal?” he asked, and Eames hummed, sounding intrigued.

“I’m listening.”

“How about if we make it through this successfully and get paid, then we’ll stick together and head to Greece?”

“I love it, but what if we aren’t successful?”

Arthur hummed sadly, but his eyes were still crinkled with amusement. He reached out, pinching the lapel of Eames’ sport coat and slowly ran his fingers down it, subtly pulling Eames closer. It was just the signal he was waiting for. He stepped into Arthur’s personal space, giving his lips a quick lick.

“Then we’ll have to find something cheaper,” Arthur said, accepting Eames’ closer proximity easily, “and I’m sure I could use some consoling if that ends up being the case.”

“Oh, Arthur,” Eames purred as he put his hand above Arthur’s head, leaning over him. “I will lavish you with consolation. What about now? Do you need any consolation at this moment?”

Arthur was beaming now, looking like an angel in the soft light from the streetlamp. “I could use some if you’re offering.”

“Anything for you, darling,” Eames murmured as he leaned in. 

Arthur’s hand was gentle and cool as he cupped his face, but his lips were warm and smooth as they met his own. Eames kissed him slowly and patiently, breathing in the cool scent of his aftershave while his lips tasted like the drink they had at the bar. Finally getting to kiss Arthur made him feel more intoxicated than the drink. 

He’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He always assumed it would be a rough, frantic kiss after an argument, a back slammed against the wall, all gripping fingers and teeth. He’d never imagined it would be like slipping into a hot bath, but as Arthur wrapped his arm around his shoulders and guided him closer, it felt like Eames was melting into him. 

Tucking his hand under Arthur’s blazer, Eames spread his fingers across the small of his back. He could feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt, melting the chill from his fingers. Moving his hand higher, he took his time to feel the rigid edges of Arthur’s muscles and the soft dips between. As he pressed his fingers in a little harder, Arthur moaned into his mouth, and Eames’ patience finally snapped. 

He gripped Arthur’s waist and shoved his back flat against the wall. Pushing harder into the kiss, he felt Arthur’s lips curling up at the edges. His hand slipped back into Eames’ hair and gripped it, causing Eames to make an odd little sound in the back of his throat. It sounded a bit like a growl.

As Eames pressed his tongue into Arthur’s mouth, his blood was raging, quickening every time Arthur’s breath hitched or he hummed sweetly against his lips. Eames wanted to taste his skin, press kisses down Arthur’s throat, and nibble on his collarbone if he could get to it. 

Before he could even attempt to do so, Arthur cradled Eames’ face, holding him in place as he pulled back to catch his breath. Eames wanted his lips back on him, but oh, was Arthur beautiful like this, darkened cheeks and swollen lips parted with shaky breaths. His eyes were dark like obsidian, glittering in the lamplight, and Eames felt like he could just fall into them like some magical abyss.

Arthur’s smile was soft as he said, “I have to go.”

Eames’ devastated reaction must have been amusing because Arthur snickered at him, but he also stroked his cheek gently with his thumb.

“Couldn’t change that to a we, could you, love?”

“No, we already have a plan. We’re going to stay together after the job.”

“Wha— That doesn’t matter!” Eames cried, and Arthur had the gall to start laughing. “This and that are two separate things.”

“I don’t think they are. Look,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “I need to keep my focus. Doing this now would be distracting.”

“Are you sure the tension between us and our sexual frustration wouldn’t be more distracting?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Arthur said, his smile widening. His eyes dropped as he added, “I’ll already be thinking about your lips, knowing how they feel. If I feel and see the rest of you…” 

Eames felt his gaze searing his skin as it trailed down the front of him, and he groaned before he could help it. “Arthur, come on. I think it’ll be good for us both.”

“I want—” he started but paused as his face tightened. He sighed and gazed deeply into Eames’ eyes. “I want to have this to look forward to. I need something to hope for.”

The gentle plea was more than enough to cool Eames down, especially since it was very sweet. He was a sucker for that, and it meant a lot that Arthur was looking forward to doing more with him. 

“How can I argue with that?” he said with a smirk, and Arthur chuckled.

“You don’t always have to argue with me.”

“Of course I do, but not this time. I’m fine with waiting… for you.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed him, a simple but slow kiss full of promise. As he pulled back, he whispered, “Thank you, Eames. Not just for this, but for everything. You’ve really taken the time to understand me, and I’ve never had a chance to tell you how much I appreciate it.” He smiled, causing his dimples to appear. “I know I can be challenging.”

“Yes,” Eames said, poking one of his dimples with his thumb, “but I do love a challenge.”

With a breathless laugh, Arthur finally pulled away and began straightening his clothing, and Eames stepped back, giving him space. The night air was far too cold without Arthur pressed against him. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Eames smiled. “Goodbye, goodbye… Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

Arthur frowned and tilted his head. “Shakespeare?”

“Mmm, Romeo and Juliet.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose. “So overrated.”

Pressing a hand to his chest, Eames gasped. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I like his histories, but other than that, I prefer his plays where not everyone dies. So depressing.”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” Eames said reluctantly. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Twelfth Night.”

“Really?” Eames said, surprised. 

“Yeah, it’s got politics, mistaken identity, hijinks, and gender confusion. What’s not to like?”

Eames beamed at him. “Mistaken identity and gender confusion… Arthur, I knew you were in love with me.”

Arthur laughed heartily at that, and Eames basked in the sound of it and the lightness in his expression. But as Arthur shook his head and wandered down the lane, Eames noted that he didn’t exactly deny it either. He strolled backward, watching as Arthur let himself into the apartment at the very end and gave Eames one last smile and a wave before shutting the door behind him. 

It was another sign of trust that he allowed Eames to see which apartment he lived in. Eames’ heart was still racing as he walked to a more populated area where he could catch a cab to his hotel, but his heart was warm and content, pleased that he’d finally made it this far with Arthur. Even if he couldn’t stay with him now, there was a promise, an expectation that he would soon. 

He suddenly realized what Arthur was feeling, why he wanted to wait. Having that hope gave him an even greater drive to successfully complete the inception. It was one more thing to have at stake, but unlike the others, it didn’t add any extra pressure. 

It was thrilling.

***

It was never said, but Eames could tell that Arthur didn’t like it when he flirted with him while they were working, especially if Eames called him darling. He never responded to it besides an ice-cold glare. If they were alone, however, Eames could coax a smile out of Arthur at the very least and receive an additional, “Get back to work, Mr. Eames,” or a pleasant ‘Goodnight’.

After going under on the plane to LA, however, Eames slipped a couple of times. It was inevitable, given the stress they were under. The dream they entered had quickly become a horrific nightmare, and if either one of them died during the dream, he might never wake up, leaving the other behind with their heart broken and hopes dashed. 

At least when he called Arthur darling, the others were already in the van.

Later, when he stretched out on the floor of the hotel room and Arthur came over and knelt beside him to help hook him into the PASIV, Eames reminded him that security was going to be difficult. He was worried about leaving Arthur alone to contend with them, but he tried covering it up in that same low murmur that had made Arthur shiver the other night. He was rewarded with soft eyes and a confident smirk. 

“And I will lead them on a merry chase.”

Eames had been able to let loose a little bit on the third level, having a merry chase himself as he took out an army of projections with a snowmobile and grenades. If he shook off the potential danger of losing his mind if he died in there, the whole thing was a lot of fun, and he almost wished Arthur had been there with them. They made a great team when fighting aggressive projections.

But Arthur was busy trying to figure out how the hell to give them a kick in zero gravity.

He’d figure it out. Eames had faith in him.

***

“That’s what I’m going to do, Uncle Peter,” Robert said, his face shining with his resolution, though that could have been the dirty river water he was drenched in. Regardless, they’d done it. The idea was going to stick.

Robert was sweet as he helped Eames up to his feet, still thinking he was Peter Browning. Eames did his best to look frustrated but also caring as Browning would in that situation. In reality, he’d probably be livid and try to talk Robert out of the whole thing, but that would defeat the purpose of their whole operation. 

As Robert patted his arm, Eames nodded, allowing Robert to wander away to spend the rest of the dream as he wanted. With Robert on his own, they no longer needed to worry about his security detail, and Eames was dying to meet up with the others and make sure they were okay.

When he was sure Robert was out of sight, he dropped the forge and made his way to the hideout, just a block away from where the van had fallen into the water. He ran his hand through his damp hair, drying it as he did so, and he gave his body a little shake, imagining all the damp away from his clothes as well. He felt better already, but he could murder someone for a hot cup of tea.

When he entered the abandoned building they were to set up in, he saw Yusuf and Ariadne right away, both damp and talking in low tones. She perked up when she saw Eames and even more when he held out his arms for her. As she rushed into them, he hugged her and twirled her around, making her laugh.

“You little genius, you. We did it!  Robert just said— Wait, where’s Arthur?” he said, panicking as he set her down so he could look around for him.

“He’s here, he’s okay,” she said quickly, motioning toward another room to the right. “He’s… worried. Cobb stayed in limbo to find Saito,” she explained.

Eames sighed heavily and scratched his cheek. For one tortured moment, he had thought… No, Arthur’s okay. They both made it this far, and it was only a matter of time before they made it out of the dream. They’d fight their way to the end together.

“You think Cobb can handle it?” Eames asked her after realizing what she’d said. 

Ariadne nodded. “I think he’s finally made peace about Mal. I have faith he’ll find Saito and get out.”

Eames studied her closely. She’d kept her head clear and focused the whole time, so he knew it wasn’t probably blind faith that made her say that. He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. 

“If you say so, I believe you. I’m going to talk to Arthur.”

“Good,” she said, nodding. It seemed she was more worried about Arthur at the moment than she was for Cobb, which was hilarious considering.

As he walked toward the other room, he added over his shoulder, “And imagine yourself dry, Ariadne. No reason to stay cold.”

“Oh… right.”

Eames strode quickly, feeling like his heart was pulling him along with how much his chest ached. Even though Ariadne had assured him Arthur was okay, the relief he felt when he finally saw him for himself was overpowering. 

Arthur’s back was to Eames, setting out different rifles and guns on a table as if he were staging a shootout. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but of course Arthur would be prepared.

When Eames softly called out his name, Arthur flinched. He whirled around quickly, staring intensely at Eames for one second before rushing toward him. There was such an aggressive aura about him that he almost thought Arthur was going to sock him in the jaw. Instead, he flung his arms around Eames and hugged him tightly. 

As Arthur buried his face into his shoulder, breathing him in, Eames shushed him and rubbed his back soothingly.

“It’s alright. No matter what, we made it this far, and we’ll get out okay for sure.”

Arthur huffed. “If I hadn’t figured out how to give you a kick…”

“But you did!” Eames reassured him as he cupped his face. “I can’t wait to hear how you did it. And listen,” he said, making sure he had Arthur’s attention before he said, “we did it. The inception.”

Arthur’s lovely dark brown eyes widened. “We did?”

“Yes! Robert just told me he was going to break up his father’s company. We bloody did it!” he laughed and hugged Arthur again. He smiled even wider as he felt Arthur’s body sag in relief.

“But Saito and Cobb—”

“I know. We may not get paid for doing it, but we did save the world from suffering a global empire in the energy industry, right? And you and me,” he whispered into Arthur’s ear, “we still have a chance.”

“Yeah,” Arthur sighed. “Greece may have to wait, but we can still hang out in LA for a bit.”

Eames chuckled. “You already have a room reserved somewhere, right?”

“I reserved a luxury suite, large jacuzzi tub…”

With a growl, Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur’s lower back and grazed his teeth over his ear. “You weren’t planning on getting in that alone, were you?”

“Now what would be the fun in that?” Arthur said as he turned his head, cupping Eames' cheek to keep him still. 

As they kissed, Arthur hummed sweetly against his lips. It was the best reward for a job well done, and Eames couldn’t wait to get out of the dream so he could try out that jacuzzi with Arthur. 

“Hey, um— Oh!”

With a little huff, Arthur pulled back from the kiss at Ariadne’s surprised entrance. He didn’t bother stepping back, however, which Eames was grateful for. He wasn’t ready to let go of Arthur, and he didn’t mind the other two knowing that something was going on between them. 

“Sorry,” Ariadne said, blushing as she shuffled awkwardly. “I didn’t know you two were…”

Arthur smirked and glanced back at Eames, smoothing the lapels of his suit down. “It’s kind of new.”

Eames tilted his head and said, “Is it new?”

Arthur laughed. “This development is new, but I guess we aren’t.”

“Regardless,” Eames said, turning to Ariadne and giving her a wink, “Arthur’s feeling better now.” 

She grinned and said, “Good. No sign of suspicious projections at the moment.”

“So, all we have to do is hunker down and wait out the dream.” Tightening his arms around Arthur’s waist, he said in a low voice, “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”

Arthur scoffed and slipped out of his arms. “Nothing sexual. I’m not going to give my body on the plane a hard-on with that poor stewardess kneeling next to me.”

“Darling,” Eames said as Ariadne began to giggle, “that poor stewardess would probably be thrilled, wondering what was going on. Imagine what little excitement she gets normally.”

Arthur shook his head and turned to walk away. As he did so, his hand trailed down Eames’ arm, and when their palms slid together, Arthur laced their fingers and pulled him along with him. Eames smiled and went willingly, raising Arthur’s hand to his lips to kiss it.

He could wait just a little longer. His hope was shining brighter than ever before.

***

This is a nice hotel, Eames thought as he strolled through the lobby to the front desk. Eyeing the grand art deco styling and crystal chandeliers, he thought wryly, Glad I’m not the one paying for the room.

The lady at the front desk smiled as he approached. “Checking in?”

“Arthur Freeman, one of your guests, has already checked in, and he’s expecting me up in his room. I believe he left you my name.”

The one good thing about them all being stuck on the first level of the dream for so long, even if Arthur wouldn’t let him fool around with him, was that they had plenty of time to sort out the details for their rendezvous once they were back in reality. 

Her eyes were glued to her screen as she typed in the information he provided. “And your name, sir?”

“Frankie Pullitzer,” he said, hoping Arthur remembered to use the alias he was traveling under.

She brightened as she looked back at him. “Room 415. Elevators are just down there.”

“Cheers,” he said, giving her a charming smile and a wink.

Blushing, she tucked her hair behind her ear and went back to work. Eames slipped his hand in his jacket pocket and wandered toward the lifts, pulling his luggage along with him. Between his fingers, he rubbed the poker chip, making sure this wasn’t a dream. 

As he rode up to the fourth floor, he felt something akin to jitters. Arthur was expecting him, and he was expecting sex. All Eames’ previously catalogued information on him was now being thrown out the window, and he was unsure how to approach him. He’d have to rely on gut instinct to make sure that when he entered room 415, he and Arthur would have a pleasant experience. 

His gut was telling him to be straightforward and bold. When Arthur typically wanted something, he didn’t muck about, for which Eames was grateful. They’d finally made it to this point and survived one of the most difficult jobs they’d ever had. They both deserved something special, and he had waited long enough.

When he finally arrived outside Arthur’s door, he knocked gently. 

After a moment, he heard Arthur say, “Who is it?” even though he could see Eames through the peephole.

Smirking, Eames said, “Room service.”

The door swung open, and Arthur leaned into it. Eames’ breath caught, seeing he’d removed the jacket and tie and had already unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Arthur smirked as his eyes dragged down Eames’ body. The gaze was as effective as yanking a cord on a lawnmower, and Eames could feel his engines roaring.

“And what services would you be providing?” Arthur asked as he took a step back to allow Eames to enter.

With a hum that growled in his throat, Eames entered the room. He could tell it was lavish, but he had eyes only for Arthur.

“I am able to provide a great number of services,” he said, setting his luggage aside. He turned back to Arthur and cleared his throat. “I am highly skilled at massages. Full body or focused on specific areas. Clothed or unclothed. If you want my recommendation, though, it’s best taken care of in the bath.”

Arthur hummed, sounding intrigued. He took a few steps closer to Eames and slipped his hands under his jacket, gently pushing it off his shoulders. 

“Go on.”

As he allowed Arthur to pull his jacket off, Eames leaned in closer to Arthur and gave his lips a lick. “I provide oral service as well.”

“Mmm, can you be specific?” Arthur asked as his eyes fell to his lips.

“Lip-to-lip contact, tongue, rimming, fellatio, nipple stimulation…”

Arthur’s smile grew with every option Eames gave, all while slowly backing Eames toward the sofa. When the back of his legs finally pressed against it, Arthur pushed him down on it and climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. 

“I think I have a good sense of what services you can provide,” he said as he ran his hands down Eames’ chest. “Can I make a request or two?”

Eames rested his hands on Arthur’s waist, tipping his head back against the sofa. “By all means.”

“If your services include sexual intercourse, then I suggest a quick session right here and now,” he said, grinding down on Eames’ lap.

The friction made his breath hitch, and Eames was about to yank Arthur down for a heated kiss when he recalled one particular word of Arthur’s request. “Wait, quick?”

Arthur chuckled and cupped his face. He leaned in, brushing their lips together in a teasing way before saying, “Quick. I’m famished, so I think room service should come after that. Real room service,” he added.

Eames groaned. He had to admit he was starving. It had been a long flight, and he’d slept through the whole damn thing.

“Then, after we eat,” Arthur continued, pausing to nibble on Eames’ bottom lip, “we can get in the bath, and I can try out some of your many intriguing services, all while taking our time. I can also provide some of my own services if you’d like.”

“Darling,” Eames sighed as he squeezed Arthur’s ass, “this just proves that, on occasion, you’re capable of having the best ideas.”

Arthur gave him a disparaging look before shaking his head. “For the sake of wanting to sleep with you, I’m going to ignore that veiled criticism.”

“That would probably be for the best,” Eames said, and then he kissed Arthur the way he’d been dreaming of for a long, long time.