( He grins with his teeth, eyes warm where they rest on Arthur. For a moment he merely lets himself look. He's always been a purveyor of art, and the relaxed shape of Arthur's brow is a masterpiece.
He doesn't even care to be bashful when he breaks the silence, tilting his glass and raising an eyebrow. )
[ He returns the smile, though less of a grin and more of a smirk. So what if he wouldn't swoon normally? Anything was possible.
In fact, thinking of Eames lifting heavier things and helping with housework, he feels like he actually could. It'd been a tease to a point, even if the forger doesn't quite believe him.
For a moment, he seems to consider the request, eyes dark on Eames' face, lips parted as though he wants to say something else. ]
( It's asked innocently enough, but they both know there's a particular kind of danger beneath the question. Neither of them are ever able to admit that they're anything more than companionable colleagues. Very rarely, Eames might be pressed to add friend to it. Only if one of them were dying.
It's safer to hold yourself apart from others. Always has been.
Except around Arthur, Eames doesn't particularly want to feel safe. )
I'll be right back.
( He hopes it takes the edge off the question anyway, another smile as he lifts their empty glasses and moves over to the bar. )
[ Truthfully, the question doesn't shock him. Isn't this what Eames does on a regular basis? He gets under people's skin so he can wear their faces, their mannerisms, their entire persona. Arthur knows that's not his aim here, but it's pointed nonetheless. Effortless in how he hides the edge with a softer tone and a flash of a smile.
And then he's left to consider the words, fingers idly turning his coaster over and again.
They're close, aren't they? Working together for as long as they have; there are things they know about each other that no one else does. It's different from his relationship with Cobb, weighted in parts of his mind and chest he doesn't want to think about usually. Maybe it's time they stopped dancing around it. Dreamshare, after all, doesn't normally have a long work life span. ]
You could know more, if you wanted. [ He says, not quite tentative, when Eames comes back. ]
( Hope is a terrible thing and usually Eames likes to ignore it altogether. He's had far too many mishaps, far too much disappointment in his life. He can be practical, and he can wing it with daredevil gungho, but hoping is useless. Unfortunately around Arthur it tends to bloom sharply. The offer, such as it is, makes something flip over in his stomach and when he smiles this time the edges have been rubbed away. )
I'd like that.
( He doesn't press for anything, not straight away at least. At least they've reached an agreement on trying more. Instead Eames sips at his beer and watches Arthur from across the table. )
I saw the Domkirkeodden while I was away. I kept thinking of how much you'd like it. Thought about sending a postcard, but by then I'd picked up something of a tail. Maybe when I go back, you could join me?
( He says it easily, like it's an offhand offer. It's not, but he has to pretend some things. )
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no subject
( He grins with his teeth, eyes warm where they rest on Arthur. For a moment he merely lets himself look. He's always been a purveyor of art, and the relaxed shape of Arthur's brow is a masterpiece.
He doesn't even care to be bashful when he breaks the silence, tilting his glass and raising an eyebrow. )
Want another? My shout.
no subject
[ He returns the smile, though less of a grin and more of a smirk. So what if he wouldn't swoon normally? Anything was possible.
In fact, thinking of Eames lifting heavier things and helping with housework, he feels like he actually could. It'd been a tease to a point, even if the forger doesn't quite believe him.
For a moment, he seems to consider the request, eyes dark on Eames' face, lips parted as though he wants to say something else. ]
Yeah, sure.
no subject
( It's asked innocently enough, but they both know there's a particular kind of danger beneath the question. Neither of them are ever able to admit that they're anything more than companionable colleagues. Very rarely, Eames might be pressed to add friend to it. Only if one of them were dying.
It's safer to hold yourself apart from others. Always has been.
Except around Arthur, Eames doesn't particularly want to feel safe. )
I'll be right back.
( He hopes it takes the edge off the question anyway, another smile as he lifts their empty glasses and moves over to the bar. )
no subject
And then he's left to consider the words, fingers idly turning his coaster over and again.
They're close, aren't they? Working together for as long as they have; there are things they know about each other that no one else does. It's different from his relationship with Cobb, weighted in parts of his mind and chest he doesn't want to think about usually. Maybe it's time they stopped dancing around it. Dreamshare, after all, doesn't normally have a long work life span. ]
You could know more, if you wanted. [ He says, not quite tentative, when Eames comes back. ]
no subject
I'd like that.
( He doesn't press for anything, not straight away at least. At least they've reached an agreement on trying more. Instead Eames sips at his beer and watches Arthur from across the table. )
I saw the Domkirkeodden while I was away. I kept thinking of how much you'd like it. Thought about sending a postcard, but by then I'd picked up something of a tail. Maybe when I go back, you could join me?
( He says it easily, like it's an offhand offer. It's not, but he has to pretend some things. )