[ When Eames texts him asking if the invite is still open– well, maybe he's a little surprised. It had been a gamble. Fifty-fifty that Eames would take him up on it. Arthur himself had been hesitant to extend the invitation to begin with. Mixing his personal and professional life was something he tried to do so rarely.
Maybe that's why he didn't have any friends, but that was something for another day.
Before the anxiety has time to settle in, he tells him yes. And ignores the bubbling fears that he's doing something stupid while he's answering the ensuing text conversation. They pick a day, a time, a place. And that's it, they're set.
He gets there (predictably) early. Arthur tells himself it's because he wants a good spot, but it's mostly so he can't psych himself out of his decision. Eventually, he catches sight of Eames from the small table he'd snagged in the corner. Something tugs at his subconscious– in the way the forger's dressed. No weird eye-searing patterns, a suit coat that actually fits him well. Perfectly well.
Arthur swallows a sip of his drink to sort out the sudden case of dry mouth before he greets Eames. ]
Hey. I could say the same for you. [ He taps his foot against the leg of the other chair, causing it to push away from the table. ] We got lucky, no one is throwing a bachelor party here tonight. Drink?
( Slumping into the chair is the easiest thing, far easier than actually coming here. The problem is, Eames actually likes Arthur. He's fond of him, of their back and forth quips, of the way the other man keeps him on his toes and makes his life interesting. It helps that he looks sinful most days, all sharp lines and angles and dark eyes, and that he gives Eames shit whenever he can simply because he can. They're not exactly friends, but they're something.
It's just that he's terrified of it too. He's too long in the tooth to let someone like Arthur unsettle him -- and yet, here he is, sweating like a schoolboy pawing through his dad's playboys. )
Please. M'parched.
( And social lubrication helps. )
It's a nice place. Not the kind I imagined you would haunt. It's much less monochrome.
[ He knows exactly how he comes across. Arthur doesn't veer too far from his fabricated professional persona, because he's never been very good at pretending to be someone he isn't. But he does amp up some specific qualities that don't translate to his personal life.
Normally, he'd feel weirder about crossing that boundary, but hearing the quip from Eames puts him at ease.
Sliding out of his chair, he gets two drinks from the bar because fuck it, he's going to need another one. He sets the darker pint in front of Eames, remembering his preferences from past experiences. ]
( He grins with half of his mouth, an appreciative nod at the drink. He's not surprised he didn't have to remind him. Half of Arthur's finesse is his attention to detail. So Eames doesn't find it strange in the slightest.
( Whereas his collection of Arthur based facts might veer towards creepy more than anything else. That's why he tries to keep them to himself.)
Eames leans back, throws an arm over the chair beside him. It's the first time he's felt relaxed in months, and he knows it's because there's a large amount of trust between them. They wouldn't willingly lead each other into danger. )
Nobody threatened to cut my body parts off. I got to work on my tan. Travers is still a knobhead though. Christ, the way he prattles on. How about you? Terrify anyone into retirement lately?
[ Eames makes himself comfortable, arm thrown over the back of a chair like he's seen him do so many times in the past. It's different in this more personal light and if Arthur studies the broad line of his body from over the rim of his glass when he drinks, well. He tries not to be too obvious about it. He's finding that a little more difficult now, since Eames is talking about his tan and honestly he looks good. Sun kissed is a great look on the forger, especially since it seems to bring out more of the blonde in his hair.
Smoothly, he avoids commenting on any of that, instead grateful to gossip about one of his least favorites in dreamshare. ]
Why do you even work with him anymore? As far as extractors go, he's alright at best. The constant stream of chatter takes points away, too.
[ Travers really does like the sound of his own voice. They've worked exactly three jobs together. Arthur bought a pair of soundproof headphones on that first job and brings them with any time he had to work with him afterwards. Generally he avoids it if possible. ]
Not lately. Thought I scared a green architect off a couple months back but apparently she was shy and star struck over how many projections I killed on that job. She's not our Ariadne, but she's a good problem solver.
( It's a drawl, something lazy. It actually isn't what Eames aims for in the long run. He usually takes jobs because they're interesting, or because they're difficult. But sometimes enough zeros and he's interested. ) I get to be a little more choosey for a while now, at least.
( He snorts at that image, shiteating green turning pleased. ) Arthur. We've talked about this, you terrifying young impressionables with knowing your way around a glock. You'll give them a complex.
( He'd probably terrified Eames a little bit too. If terrified meant more like arousal. )
Right, I forgot you like a certain number of zeroes at the end of your paychecks.
[ He hadn't, really. Just he's never had to use pay as an incentive to get Eames on board with any of the jobs he's pitched. Arthur knows what kind of creative challenges the forger likes and chooses not to waste his time on sending him things he knows will bore him to tears. ]
That goes for both of us. [ After all, they're the best in their respective business. Not to mention they made waves doing the inception job, even if most of the information about it is hearsay and rumor. Saito's payout was enough to keep them more than well off for a while. Any resulting job after, they could be more specific with. ]
I'm not going to give them a complex. Hopefully they'll take it upon themselves to be just as competent. I'm setting a standard here.
An impossible one. ( Because let's face it, it will be a cold day in hell when someone manages to surpass Arthur. ) Not that I mind you doing your best to pave the way for the new generation, but they'll end up with unrealistic expectations.
( Another sip of his drink, a flick of his wrist. It's easy and unconcerned. The tension he's been holding has practically bled free. )
Don't tell me it's been all work though. You're too young to go prematurely grey from stress. Tell me you've been up to something interesting, or I might weep.
[ While Arthur knows he's very good at what he does, he doesn't exactly see it as an unrealistic standard. But then, he supposes he hasn't met too many other people in dreamshare who are as anal retentive as he is about details. ]
If I did go grey, at least I wouldn't constantly be mistaken for seventeen. [ That'd been half the reason he'd gone the fashionable route. Tailored suits, expensive watches, designer shoes, neatly slicked hair– it all made him look older instead of like jailbait. In the earlier days, when he first started, a youthful face was more detriment than anything. Despite the working knowledge he had from being part of the project in the military. ]
Yeah yeah, save your crocodile tears. [ He huffs a laugh though, takes a sip of his drink, leans back in his chair some. ] I bought a house– not an apartment, but an actual house. Needs a lot of work though, so I've been fixing it up between jobs when I've got time.
[ Honestly he still doesn't know what possessed him to put down roots. All he knows is that he'd been driving around on an errand, saw the house, and immediately knew he wanted it. ]
Oh, don't complain. I'm sure people would kill for your genetic makeup. Just wait until your face looks like peeling paint on an abandoned piss stained wall, then you'll miss those days where you constantly had to whip out your I.D.
( Arthur's face is lovely. Eames doesn't even think that old age would suit Arthur poorly. He's probably going to be stunning up until the worms start eating him.
It isn't fair. For several reasons.
Eames listens as Arthur talks, surprise crossing his face. His mouth eases into a smile, something fond and sweet. He's pleased for Arthur. )
Really? I always thought you'd be the type to vacation while a team of skilled employees did the dirty work. ( A pause. ) No, of course you'd probably stay behind hovering over everyone's shoulder making sure they did their job with precision.
[ Arthur lets out a laugh at the retort– a real one, not the usual breathed out amusement. It lights up his face, mouth curved up happily, dimples showing in full. He usually keeps himself restrained in this sense, knows how his happiness can be misconstrued.
Knows, on some level, how devastating it can be when wielded in specific situations.
Normally, Cobb dealt with the fast talking and charming, but occasionally he'd stepped in, flashing an easy smile and watching as defenses lowered in shock.
Some part of him worries about showing too much in front of Eames. Another part says fuck it. They've known each other too long at this point. And if he somehow charms him with this side, he'll deal with the fallout. ]
Please, I'm not that bad. I'd be directing from the couch, it's much more comfortable. [ He wouldn't, but that's part of the joke, something he loops in with that same honest smile directed towards the forger. ]
There's something satisfying about doing all the work. I can just turn my brain off. [ In a way, it resembles those times where he's stuck compiling reams of information for jobs. But with the added bonus of working with his hands. Tactile in a way his normal work isn't.
After a bit of hesitance (internal, simple silence on the outside), he glances at Eames, gaze steady despite his nerves. ] Come by sometime, I'll give you the tour.
( It's akin to being shot, the sudden and sharp breathlessness that strikes through his ribs. Arthur has never smiled like that, or at least if he had it hadn't been in Eames' presence. It's gorgeous, and it makes his fingers itch for a pencil for the first time in years. When was the last time he sketched something for the joy of it? Lifetimes ago, probably.
His own smile is softer then, leaning on the table top with his fingers loosely around his pint glass. When the offer comes, they twitch slightly. )
Yeah? ( Did he die in a fiery plane crash? ) All right. I'd like that. I'll even lend you my muscles for some heavy lifting, if you'd like.
( He wonders what a space like that will be like. It feels like the chance to finally figure out who Arthur really is. )
[ There's a shift in the air, like pressure releasing on one side of a valve. He can practically hear the hiss of it, but he's not entirely sure of the cause. There's a theory, but he's distracted by the softer smile on Eames' mouth (that damn mouth), by the curve of his fingers on the glass.
Arthur, as always, is about the details, and he wants to map these particular ones in his mind. ]
Oh, are you trying to get me to swoon?
[ The retort is light and easy, a pattern they're familiar with, because he doesn't know what to do with the change, not yet. ]
( 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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VIBRATES INTO THE ATMOSPHERE
Date: 2018-01-20 01:28 am (UTC)Maybe that's why he didn't have any friends, but that was something for another day.
Before the anxiety has time to settle in, he tells him yes. And ignores the bubbling fears that he's doing something stupid while he's answering the ensuing text conversation. They pick a day, a time, a place. And that's it, they're set.
He gets there (predictably) early. Arthur tells himself it's because he wants a good spot, but it's mostly so he can't psych himself out of his decision. Eventually, he catches sight of Eames from the small table he'd snagged in the corner. Something tugs at his subconscious– in the way the forger's dressed. No weird eye-searing patterns, a suit coat that actually fits him well. Perfectly well.
Arthur swallows a sip of his drink to sort out the sudden case of dry mouth before he greets Eames. ]
Hey. I could say the same for you. [ He taps his foot against the leg of the other chair, causing it to push away from the table. ] We got lucky, no one is throwing a bachelor party here tonight. Drink?
no subject
Date: 2018-01-22 06:26 pm (UTC)It's just that he's terrified of it too. He's too long in the tooth to let someone like Arthur unsettle him -- and yet, here he is, sweating like a schoolboy pawing through his dad's playboys. )
Please. M'parched.
( And social lubrication helps. )
It's a nice place. Not the kind I imagined you would haunt. It's much less monochrome.
( His smile is less sharp, he's only teasing. )
no subject
Date: 2018-05-15 07:09 pm (UTC)[ He knows exactly how he comes across. Arthur doesn't veer too far from his fabricated professional persona, because he's never been very good at pretending to be someone he isn't. But he does amp up some specific qualities that don't translate to his personal life.
Normally, he'd feel weirder about crossing that boundary, but hearing the quip from Eames puts him at ease.
Sliding out of his chair, he gets two drinks from the bar because fuck it, he's going to need another one. He sets the darker pint in front of Eames, remembering his preferences from past experiences. ]
How'd your last job go?
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Date: 2018-05-25 05:47 pm (UTC)( He grins with half of his mouth, an appreciative nod at the drink. He's not surprised he didn't have to remind him. Half of Arthur's finesse is his attention to detail. So Eames doesn't find it strange in the slightest.
( Whereas his collection of Arthur based facts might veer towards creepy more than anything else. That's why he tries to keep them to himself.)
Eames leans back, throws an arm over the chair beside him. It's the first time he's felt relaxed in months, and he knows it's because there's a large amount of trust between them. They wouldn't willingly lead each other into danger. )
Nobody threatened to cut my body parts off. I got to work on my tan. Travers is still a knobhead though. Christ, the way he prattles on. How about you? Terrify anyone into retirement lately?
no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 07:59 pm (UTC)Smoothly, he avoids commenting on any of that, instead grateful to gossip about one of his least favorites in dreamshare. ]
Why do you even work with him anymore? As far as extractors go, he's alright at best. The constant stream of chatter takes points away, too.
[ Travers really does like the sound of his own voice. They've worked exactly three jobs together. Arthur bought a pair of soundproof headphones on that first job and brings them with any time he had to work with him afterwards. Generally he avoids it if possible. ]
Not lately. Thought I scared a green architect off a couple months back but apparently she was shy and star struck over how many projections I killed on that job. She's not our Ariadne, but she's a good problem solver.
no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 08:30 pm (UTC)( It's a drawl, something lazy. It actually isn't what Eames aims for in the long run. He usually takes jobs because they're interesting, or because they're difficult. But sometimes enough zeros and he's interested. ) I get to be a little more choosey for a while now, at least.
( He snorts at that image, shiteating green turning pleased. ) Arthur. We've talked about this, you terrifying young impressionables with knowing your way around a glock. You'll give them a complex.
( He'd probably terrified Eames a little bit too. If terrified meant more like arousal. )
no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 08:59 pm (UTC)[ He hadn't, really. Just he's never had to use pay as an incentive to get Eames on board with any of the jobs he's pitched. Arthur knows what kind of creative challenges the forger likes and chooses not to waste his time on sending him things he knows will bore him to tears. ]
That goes for both of us. [ After all, they're the best in their respective business. Not to mention they made waves doing the inception job, even if most of the information about it is hearsay and rumor. Saito's payout was enough to keep them more than well off for a while. Any resulting job after, they could be more specific with. ]
I'm not going to give them a complex. Hopefully they'll take it upon themselves to be just as competent. I'm setting a standard here.
no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 09:10 pm (UTC)( Another sip of his drink, a flick of his wrist. It's easy and unconcerned. The tension he's been holding has practically bled free. )
Don't tell me it's been all work though. You're too young to go prematurely grey from stress. Tell me you've been up to something interesting, or I might weep.
( A sniff. )
I worry so.
no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 09:39 pm (UTC)[ While Arthur knows he's very good at what he does, he doesn't exactly see it as an unrealistic standard. But then, he supposes he hasn't met too many other people in dreamshare who are as anal retentive as he is about details. ]
If I did go grey, at least I wouldn't constantly be mistaken for seventeen. [ That'd been half the reason he'd gone the fashionable route. Tailored suits, expensive watches, designer shoes, neatly slicked hair– it all made him look older instead of like jailbait. In the earlier days, when he first started, a youthful face was more detriment than anything. Despite the working knowledge he had from being part of the project in the military. ]
Yeah yeah, save your crocodile tears. [ He huffs a laugh though, takes a sip of his drink, leans back in his chair some. ] I bought a house– not an apartment, but an actual house. Needs a lot of work though, so I've been fixing it up between jobs when I've got time.
[ Honestly he still doesn't know what possessed him to put down roots. All he knows is that he'd been driving around on an errand, saw the house, and immediately knew he wanted it. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-06-25 05:54 pm (UTC)( Arthur's face is lovely. Eames doesn't even think that old age would suit Arthur poorly. He's probably going to be stunning up until the worms start eating him.
It isn't fair. For several reasons.
Eames listens as Arthur talks, surprise crossing his face. His mouth eases into a smile, something fond and sweet. He's pleased for Arthur. )
Really? I always thought you'd be the type to vacation while a team of skilled employees did the dirty work. ( A pause. ) No, of course you'd probably stay behind hovering over everyone's shoulder making sure they did their job with precision.
( Of course he's a DIY man. )
no subject
Date: 2018-06-26 03:58 am (UTC)Knows, on some level, how devastating it can be when wielded in specific situations.
Normally, Cobb dealt with the fast talking and charming, but occasionally he'd stepped in, flashing an easy smile and watching as defenses lowered in shock.
Some part of him worries about showing too much in front of Eames. Another part says fuck it. They've known each other too long at this point. And if he somehow charms him with this side, he'll deal with the fallout. ]
Please, I'm not that bad. I'd be directing from the couch, it's much more comfortable. [ He wouldn't, but that's part of the joke, something he loops in with that same honest smile directed towards the forger. ]
There's something satisfying about doing all the work. I can just turn my brain off. [ In a way, it resembles those times where he's stuck compiling reams of information for jobs. But with the added bonus of working with his hands. Tactile in a way his normal work isn't.
After a bit of hesitance (internal, simple silence on the outside), he glances at Eames, gaze steady despite his nerves. ] Come by sometime, I'll give you the tour.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-10 05:33 pm (UTC)His own smile is softer then, leaning on the table top with his fingers loosely around his pint glass. When the offer comes, they twitch slightly. )
Yeah? ( Did he die in a fiery plane crash? ) All right. I'd like that. I'll even lend you my muscles for some heavy lifting, if you'd like.
( He wonders what a space like that will be like. It feels like the chance to finally figure out who Arthur really is. )
no subject
Date: 2018-07-12 04:40 am (UTC)Arthur, as always, is about the details, and he wants to map these particular ones in his mind. ]
Oh, are you trying to get me to swoon?
[ The retort is light and easy, a pattern they're familiar with, because he doesn't know what to do with the change, not yet. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-07-30 05:40 pm (UTC)( 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
Date: 2018-08-31 12:19 pm (UTC)[ 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
Date: 2018-10-02 04:06 pm (UTC)( 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
Date: 2019-05-01 04:44 am (UTC)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
Date: 2019-05-01 03:50 pm (UTC)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. )