fanficition cove

Originally written/posted: February 2011
Fandom: Inception (2010)
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, mentioned Yusuf/Ariadne, implied Saito/cobb
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 7,675 words
Notes: Not reread…sorry! I was quite productive in the Inception fandom back in the day, and I haven’t looked at most of this fic in over a decade. If I were to sit down and read all of this now I wouldn’t update this site in a month. Sorry in advance if this is extremely unreadable; I will work on that as soon as I have everything hosted.

i.

Arthur was wheezing. He was literally wheezing, and he sounded and felt like he was dying. He just wanted to melt into the covers of his bed, only to evaporate into thin air — he told himself that it was indeed possible and he was sort of annoyed that it hadn’t happened to him yet — because anything was better than feeling like this. He was literally feeling like he was about to combust, and Arthur knew what dying felt like, he had felt it countless times in a dream, and it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

This was three times past unpleasant; this was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Arthur wasn’t one that was subject to getting sick, but the in the odd event that he did get sick, he got violently ill for a week and always contemplated doing something rash because of how miserable he was.

And, to make everything worse, Arthur had to work. He was already two hours late and was still in bed — he was honestly surprised that the phone hadn’t rang yet, asking where he was or where he had gone. They probably hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t even there yet, because it was the job that meant everything to Cobb and to everyone else, and today was a day where they locked themselves in their individual corridors of the huge warehouse and began working on the parts of the dream that they were responsible for.

It just so happened that Arthur was responsible for research today, and that research was one of the things that he wouldn’t be able to make up. He felt like shit, even more like shit because he couldn’t finish his job properly and he just hoped that they wouldn’t run into any problems whilst exploring and incepting the mind of Robert Fischer.

The loud, penetrating sound of the hotel room phone ringing brought him out of his thoughts, and Arthur stifled a groan from the sound. It was intense, and it ripped through him like a bullet, and he was honestly considering killing the person that was on the other line. Reaching over, he picked it up, and coughed into the phone.

“Hello?” Arthur rasped, unable to sound normal, much to his dismay and effort.

There was a brief chuckle on the other end. “Arthur?”

It wasn’t a consideration anymore, it was a promise.

“Eames,” Arthur said, meaning for his voice to have a little more venom, but ending up just sounding weak, highlighted by the coughing attack that escaped his mouth.

“You sound like shit,” Eames says sounding concerned, and something in Arthur’s chest clenched but not because his lungs felt like they’re exploding because they couldn’t get enough oxygen. No, it’s entirely different, and the very though scared Arthur enough to the point of almost hanging up the phone in panic.

“I feel like shit.” Arthur was whining, he knew he was, but he was just miserable. He felt like the world was shitting on his life and he hated feeling like he couldn’t do anything. He hated being lazy, and being sick meant that he had no choice but to be lazy.

“I’m guessing you aren’t coming today, are you?”

Arthur bit his lip. “If you need me too… I could.” Arthur whispered, even though he was dying to get to work, he didn’t know if he could make it there without collapsing, and even if he did, the day would probably be over by the time he made it through his hotel room door. “I might be a few minut- hours late..” He coughed again, hacking up something disgusting in his throat. “Hold on,” Arthur whispered.

Arthur got up and ran into the bathroom, hurling everything that he had consumed in the last five hours and groaned. Wiping his mouth, he didn’t even bother brushing his teeth because he knew it was going to happen anyways and grabbed a trashcan on the way out.

“Sorry,” Arthur huffed, lying back down on the bed, snuggling deep into the covers.

“Did you just throw up?” Eames asked, and Arthur’s chest clenched again. He sounded twice as concerned as he had before, and it scared him.

“Hgmh,” Arthur made a sound to let the other man on the other line know that he was still breathing, even if it was hard and it hurt his chest.

Eames took the sound as a yes. “Hold on, Arthur.”

Arthur heard shuffling in the background, and made out voices that were saying something in a muffled tone like ‘I need to go make sure he’s okay, he sounds bloody dead’ and ‘Alright, just try not to get sick’ and ‘Are you sure he’s okay?’. Soon Eames was back on the phone as he heard a door open. “Eames?”

“You should not be on the phone right now, love,” Eames said and Arthur tried to snort, but that only resulted in snot covering the front of his shirt and he sighed, too exhausted to really care all that much.

“S’okay,” Arthur mumbled tiredly.

Eames laughed a little, trying to make light of the situation, like he somehow always did. “Go to sleep, Arthur,”

And Arthur did.

*

When Arthur woke up, he was feeling the same, if not worse, and his eyes opened to see Eames sitting in the corner of his hotel room, reading a book, which faintly looked like To Kill A Mockingbird, but Arthur couldn’t be sure, especially when he saw two Eames and he wasn’t exactly sure which one was real.

“E- Eames?” He croaked and both Eames looked up from the book their reading, threw the book on the table and walked toward Arthur.

“Arthur!” He beamed, seeming oblivious to the fact that there was a man that looked exactly like him standing right next to him, mimicking his every move. Arthur fought down the urge to tell him, because hell, Eames probably already knew.

Someone would notice someone following them… right?

“Eames, what…” Arthur trailed off, only to go into another coughing attack a few moments later. When he stopped and finally opened his eyes, Eames was sitting on the bed beside him, with a bottle of ginger ale and some antibiotics. Arthur wasn’t about to question how he had gotten those, being that they were prescription only, but curiosity killed the cat. “Why…what?”

Eames laughed a little, the sound kind and amused, but not in the normal way that he usually was. The sound chilled Arthur to the bone and he wasn’t sure why. “Drink this and take two of these. It’ll help you feel a little better, darling.” Eames whispers, obviously trying to keep his voice low, which Arthur was thankful for. It felt like rabbits wearing knives strapped to their backs were fucking against the walls of his skull.

Normally Arthur would protest, because he was prone to not letting people help him, but he was weak, and Eames was being nice — which was why he was sure that he was still dreaming or maybe even hallucinating because Eames was never this nice — and he was just grateful to have someone here to take care of him.

Even if it was Eames.

Arthur took the pills gratefully with one hand, his other hand shakily holding the ginger ale, causing it to spill onto the sheets. Arthur would’ve blushed if his face wasn’t completely pale from how much he felt like death. Sensing this, Eames shook his head, took Arthur’s cup, motioned for him to take the pills and put them in his mouth. Once he did, Eames brought the glass to his lips.

Arthur looked at him like he had three heads and a tail coming from his nose.

“Drink,” Eames commanded, knowing that Arthur wouldn’t be able to do this on his own. Hell, he was barely even able to sit up on his own so it was a miracle that he could even swallow. Once he did, Eames beamed at him again fondly, causing Arthur’s chest to painfully do that clenching thing again.

Arthur looked over at Eames as he was about to get up, and shook his head, weakly reaching for his wrists. “Thank you.” Arthur said, weakly, tiredly, and Eames knows the only reason he does is because he thinks he’s dreaming.

But Eames would take a comment like that from Arthur anyway.

Eames beamed down at Arthur and smiled. “Go to sleep, Arthur,” He whispered, and Arthur nodded, closing his eyes.

Arthur was sure that he must’ve been dreaming, because he could feel something wet and hot placed against his forehead —something told him that it was Eames’ lips— and he could’ve sworn that he heard ‘Anything for you, my love’ fall off of the other man’s lips.

But it couldn’t be. Because Arthur and Eames were supposed to hate each other.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself as his mind went completely blank.

ii.

It was a few years after Arthur had been sick and eventually Eames and Arthur had progressed into something more than just a mutual friendship. Arthur wasn’t exactly sure how it had happened, or why, but it had and he wasn’t the least bit upset about it. Well, he wasn’t upset it about it, but he was blatantly scared. Arthur wasn’t usually fond of commitment — and he knew that Eames wasn’t completely fond of it either — but it had just happened.

And he supposed that it was why it felt so right. Why Eames felt so right.

And now that it had happened, and because it felt right, Arthur didn’t want to let it go.

Everything was finally falling into place for Arthur, and even though it wasn’t in the way that he was expecting, he had to admit that it felt good. It felt good to have someone beside him who understood everything that he went through, every feeling of nostalgia after not being hooked up to the PASIV device after a while, every feeling of regret after knowing that he hadn’t done as well as he could have.

Eames understood Arthur the way that no one ever could begin to understand him, and Arthur was just grateful that Eames had taken the time to crack him open, see what Arthur was truly about and why he was the way he was. Arthur expected Eames to give up, but he hadn’t, and for that, Arthur was particularly inclined to Eames.

Arthur would never admit it to anyone, but Eames was his rock, Eames was everything that he could’ve wanted and more, he was everything he didn’t deserve. Arthur knew that Eames deserved so much better than Arthur, and Arthur assumed that Eames probably knew it too. But he wasn’t about to tell him to stay away, because he needed him.

This thing that they were doing, whatever it was, was the thing that kept Arthur from completely going off kilter. It was everything that made Arthur hoped again, that made him believe in things that he never dreamed about believing in anymore. It was everything that convinced him that everything was as perfect as it could possibly get.

But, right now, nothing felt right, everything was completely crumbling in front of their eyes and Arthur was having a middle life crisis panic attack — even though he was far from being middle aged, or well, that’s what he told himself. They were getting chased, they were on the run, and Arthur was scared. Arthur was always scared, but this time, this time it was different from all of the other times that he had been scared.

Because Eames had actually noticed.

And it wasn’t only Arthur who was in danger here, it was Eames too — Arthur really didn’t want to see Eames get hurt.

Arthur looked over at Eames, who was running beside him, his gun in his hand, loaded and ready to shoot anyone that was the least bit threatening to come their way. They were, after all, being chased on foot by a hoard of men who wanted them dead.

Apparently, from what Arthur had gathered from the rushed thirty second phone call from Cobb; Inception had backfired just a mere couple of years after it had actually happened. Robert had seen Ariadne in Paris (Arthur had later found out it had been because he wanted to talk over building designs for a new business branch he wanted to create). Ariadne had graduated at the top of her class, which hadn’t surprised Arthur in the least, she was brilliant at what she did. It was only a matter of time before she got some recognition for her work. And when Robert had saw her, in the meeting room, he’d recognized her immediately. Arthur wasn’t sure how, or why, because it had been years ago, but probably because Ariadne was the one who stuck with him the most. He had easily tracked everyone down, and now some of his men, some of his big men, were chasing Arthur and Eames through the back alleys of Los Angeles. Needless to say, they were in deep water and Arthur didn’t picture it evaporating into anything less anytime soon.

“Darling, you mustn’t think while running, it’ll get you into a mess!” Eames’ rushed, tired, and alarmed voice rang through Arthur’s ears, and he couldn’t help but blush a little at the words.

“Sorry, sorry,” He quickly apologized, and followed Eames down the vacant alleyway that he had turned too, they ran.

And then they ran some more.

And then some more.

Dead end.

Eames cursed. Arthur nearly punched the wall, and he looked over at Eames in defeat. They were in for it now. They both knew it. Fischer’s men weren’t too far behind them and they didn’t know how many seconds they had. Arthur was never one to be extremely optimistic but he saw this as their end, and he knew that he wasn’t just being a downer.

He knew that this would probably be the last time that he ever saw Eames, and that made his heart physically clench.

At least they were going together.

The words did very little to comfort Arthur. Arthur looked over at Eames and smiled a little and though they both knew it was fake, neither of them found the heart to care. “You mean so much to me.” And it was true, Arthur hadn’t realized just how much Eames had meant to him until he saw his life flash before his eyes — where 75% of it had contained Eames’ face.

Eames shook his head. “Don’t,”

“Don’t(,) what?” Arthur asked, even though they both knew what Eames was trying to say.

“You’re saying it like it’s goodbye.” Eames whispered, stroking Arthur’s face with his calloused fingers as gently as he could whilst his fingers were trembling. Arthur leaned into his touch and bit his lip, before leaning down and kissing Eames.

The kiss lasted until they heard faint screams: “Kill those bloody bastards, and kill them good!”

Arthur pulled away from Eames and looked up, and then it was all a blur. Bodies went flying, a gun was pointed at Arthur and he braced for the pain, only it didn’t come, or at least, it didn’t come where he thought it would hit. A body fell slack beneath his feet but before he could make sense of who it was, he felt an agonizing pain to the back of his head.

He fell to the ground. “I’ll always protect you,” The strangled voice — there was no doubt in his mind that it was Eames — and words rang in his ear as blackness engulfed him entirely.

*

When Arthur woke up — presumably days later, he looked around the hotel room that he was in, how he got there he wasn’t sure, but Eames was laying beside him, or at least, he hoped it was Eames. He couldn’t be positive, and for a moment he brought himself not to care, not because he didn’t actually care but because, rather, he was too tired to care. Arthur was seeing double and the normally defined lines that outlined everything were blurry.

He squinted, trying to make sense of everything, before he heard a slight chuckle.

“Darling, please don’t squint like that, it’s starting to make me a little queasy,” Eames paused for a moment. “Plus, you look way too much like Dom,”

Arthur laughed, or at least he tried, it came out more as a muffled sob. It was comforting to know that Eames was right beside him, and wasn’t somewhere else.

Or dead.

Arthur shot up — which he regretted but a few moments later when it felt like his brain was sloshing around in his skull. “You’re alive?” He asked, looking over at Eames. Then, it all clicked together, the body that fell slack between him and the bullet was Eames. Now with his mind completely clear, there wasn’t a moment he could recall where he was happier to see Eames.

Eames had taken every step possible to make sure that Arthur was okay, and wasn’t harmed. Eames had taken the bullet that was meant for Arthur and Arthur felt his heart clench in the good way.

Eames smiled a little tightly, obviously trying to make it look effortless and amused, but Arthur could tell that he was in serious pain. “Of course I am, pet, I’ll never leave you.”

Arthur noticeably blushed, not even trying to mask it. He snuggled closer into Eames and pressed his lips against the man’s forehead, feeling like his world was on balance again.

“You are one crazy man,” Arthur murmured affectionately, saying everything that he couldn’t bring himself to say, and by Eames hum of approval, Arthur knew that Eames heard it too. Arthur ran his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair — which was meant as a comforting gesture — until he fell asleep.

It was the least he could do after he had just saved his life.

iii.

“Arthur, love, could you please look up from your damned computer for a second?” Eames’ annoyed and almost desperate voice broke Arthur from his computer, where he was currently doing some very important research for a very important job.

Arthur made an exasperated noise before looking over to his boyfriend, the boyfriend that he was seriously considering castrating (him). Though, the more that he thought about it, the more that he realized that he would find it as more of a loss than Eames would.

“Eames, please, can’t you see that I’m busy?” Arthur whined.

Arthur never whined.

Eames smirked a little. “You’ve been working on that thing for the last six hours and you’ve barely paid any attention to me.”

Arthur blinked, and seriously contemplated stabbing him. A pencil could do serious damage, right? “That’s why you’re bothering me?” Arthur asks slowly.

“Precisely.” Eames said, pressing himself against Arthur’s desk, putting his sticky little fingers anywhere he felt deserved them.

“With how desperate you sounded I expected the building to be on fire.” Arthur said, pausing for a moment, before turning back to the light computer screen and continuing his research.

“Would that get you away from the computer screen?” Eames asked.

Arthur hummed a noise of agreement. “Yes.”

Eames leaned so close to his ear that Arthur could feel his breath tickling his neck. He bit back the breath of surprise that threatens its way through his lips. “The buildings on fire.”

Arthur shot a glare at Eames with enough heat to burn glaciers and slapped him on his shoulder. This was going to be a long two hours, especially if Eames was going to continue this game that obviously amused him dearly.

*

Later that evening, Arthur and Eames were curled up on their leather — a cheap thing from IKEA that Arthur hadn’t even known Eames had bought until it had appeared in their living room — couch, Arthur’s head against his shoulder as they were eating dinner. Their previous annoyance and anger had faded into nothing as it always had, and Arthur was glad that it wasn’t one of their more brutal fights.

Arthur was particularly disgusted at how Eames always seemed to try to overlap how many chicken wings he could shove into his mouth at once. He was currently on five, and Arthur was honest to god not surprised. Eames had a huge mouth, one that Arthur frequently took advantage of.

But this was just downright disgusting, Eames was shoving more chicken into his mouth and it was basically falling over his shirt, which Arthur was currently attached to because of Eames steel hold on Arthur’s shoulders.

“You’re disgusting.” Arthur said, but he had to admit that his mouth looked absolutely pornographic while he was at it.

Eames just chuckled, or as much as he could with chicken in his mouth. “You know how much I love chicken,” he mumbled with a mouth full of food.

Arthur gagged. “I don’t get why I’m with you sometimes.”

Eames smiled delightedly, swallowing down all of the chicken and reaching up to ruffle Arthur’s fucking hair. “I could say the same about you.” Eames paused, before leaning close to Arthur’s ear, placing a gentle kiss along his earlobe.

Arthur looked over, a curious eyebrow quirked. “Oh?” Arthur prompted, looking into Eames eyes. “Then what are we doing in a relationship, hm?” Arthur asked, trying to look disgruntled but only succeeding in looking incredibly awkward.

“Then,” Eames placed a kiss behind his ear, causing Arthur to hum in surprise and pleasure. “Then,” He repeated, “I remember that you’ve got me so hung up that I’d sacrifice all of the chicken wings in the world for you.”

Arthur couldn’t help but throw his head back in laughter at how serious Eames sounded. “I’m glad that you’re considerate enough to put me above your chicken.” Arthur whispered as he turned his body into Eames and Eames puts the bucket of chicken on the table by the couch.

Eames smirked, placing his lips upon Arthur’s. “I know. It surprises me too,” he whispered against his lips, and this time, Arthur’s too caught up in his touch to reach over and slap him.

iv.

“Arthur.” Poke. “Arthur.” Poke. “Arrrrthurrrrr,” Poke, poke, poke. “Arthuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrr!” POKE.

Arthur groaned and moved as far away as possible from the poking fingers that were stabbing into his side, rolling over on the bed, still half-asleep, but they followed wherever he went. He eventually rolled off of the bed, landing on his belly as he heard Eames chuckle softly.

“Well, that definitely did the trick.” Arthur opened his eyes to find Eames grinning at him, looking at him from above on the bed.

Arthur groaned. “Go away.”

Eames grin gradually transformed into a smirk. “Oh Arthur dear, always such a lovely person to wake up to, yeah?” Eames murmured affectionately, reaching his fingers down to stroke Arthur’s hair fondly.

Arthur muttered some choice words under his breath, which only caused his boyfriend to chuckle more. He pushed himself off of the floor and climbed on the bed. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” Arthur muttered tiredly.

Eames shook his head. “Normally, I would have to agree with you darling, but it’s currently the morning of our anniversary.”

Arthur’s eyes opened wide at this as his mouth formed an ‘o’. Eames had to look away before dirty thoughts started to take over. “Oh,” Arthur mumbled intelligently.

“You’re lucky you’re so incoherently adorable when you wake up.” Eames pressed his lips to Arthur’s forehead before pressing off of the bed. “I made breakfast.”

Arthur looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s safe to eat?” Arthur retorted, looking over at Eames curiously, smirking mischievously.

Eames feigned hurt and looked over at him, trying his best to put on his ‘I’m-incredibly-mad-upset-depressed-or-appalled-at-Arthur-face. “I wonder why I’m so fond of you sometimes.”

*

Arthur was nervous, he was incredibly nervous. It was Eames’ and Arthur’s first year anniversary and Arthur had never made it this far into a relationship before. He knew that was slightly pathetic, being as he was a thirty-two year old man, but he wasn’t quite comfortable with staying in one place for too long — he adamantly blamed his job for that, because his job required that he’d always be on the run, but Arthur knew that was just an excuse.

It was because he was scared. He was violently scared of being with someone, falling into patterns with someone, being comfortable enough to be himself around someone. He wasn’t too keen on giving up his heart, even though he already knew that Eames had it. And the very thought scared him.

Hell, even Eames scared him, but Eames scared everyone so Arthur wasn’t too concerned about that one.

Arthur wasn’t good with this, he wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world, and he knew that he left a lot of be desired. He didn’t particularly enjoy a cuddle after sex, he was prone to forgetting his keys a lot, and he absolutely hated wearing anything but his boxers on weekends. Arthur knew that he wasn’t perfect and he didn’t understand why Eames seemed perfectly okay with that.

He thought Eames would stick around for a few months at most, mostly for the casual sex and the sense of unification and dominance, but he had been with Arthur for a year now, and Eames never, ever pointed out that Arthur wasn’t the best boyfriend that he could be.

He was convinced that Eames was the stupidest, most incompetent man in the world.

Anyone with half of a brain would’ve left Arthur after they found out that he sometimes forgot to scrub behind his ears. (D’awwww. <3)

Right?

But no, Eames hadn’t left, and he had stayed, and as much as it infuriatingly confused him, it made him bloody happy as well.

He looked at himself in the mirror, smoothing out his trousers — which were a tasteful blackish brown — and sighed. They were going out, and they never went out. It made Arthur nervous, not because he was ashamed to be with Eames, but because he wasn’t sure what was and what wasn’t okay, and what if Eames had decided later on that evening that he was ashamed of Arthur? Eames and Arthur were both extremely private individuals, but Eames had suggested it and Arthur hadn’t been able to turn him down.

He wanted everything to be perfect — Arthur was a perfectionist, everyone who knew him for more than a couple of minutes could figure that out, and oddly enough, Eames had told him that it was the thing that he liked most about Arthur, or at least one of them.

It was obvious. The British man had lost his sanity somewhere.

“Darling?” The words pulled him out of his trance and he nervously sucked in a breath. He had a feeling that Eames would come to his senses soon, possibly even tonight, dump him on his ass and go for a guy that could actually be someone, be something that Eames would enjoy.

Arthur genuinely hoped for it though, he knew there was a part of him that would be absolutely crushed if Eames did choose to leave him.

“Coming,” Arthur called back, grabbing the vest that was resting on the chair by their bed and fastening it around his shoulders and waist. Arthur put on the jacket that was on the bed, making sure that he looked as good as he possibly could before he flicked off the light and headed to where Eames was.

As nervous as he was Arthur was sure glad to see him. Arthur peered around the corner and saw Eames sitting on their couch, the same couch that Eames had been disgustingly shoving his face with food on just a mere few months before. Arthur cleared his throat and smiled.

“Let’s get going, shall we?” Arthur asked, pulling up Eames from the couch to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

Eames grinned into the kiss before pulling away, and giving Arthur a single red rose. Arthur blushed deeply despite himself. “For you.”

Arthur brought it to his nose and smelt it before he could stop himself. It smelled amazing, as every rose he had ever smelt had — he put it on the dresser carefully. “Leave it to you to be cliché’.” Arthur chuckled a little fondly, a little too fond for his liking.

Eames just smiled back at him. “Would you ever expect anything less?”

Arthur had to agree with that, at least.

*

After they had finished their dinner, Arthur and Eames were walking around the dimmed — but not completely dark, being as it was New York City and it was impossible for New York to get completely dark — park. They were being as cliché as it went, a romantic fancy dinner, with a extremely rich dessert, sipping wine as they talked casually about anything that came to mind.

But Arthur realized he wouldn’t have it any other way. This was his life — their life — and it was as much perfect as it was incredibly imperfect.

“You think too much for your own good, you know that?” Eames voice rang loud and clear, and Arthur looked over at him, resisting the urge to slap his shoulder playfully.

“At least one of us does the thinking in this relationship,” Arthur retorted, causing Eames to chuckle.

“Touché, love,” Eames dropped it, and they continue walking through along the path that they had been following.

“Care to sit?” Eames asked after a few more minutes and Arthur nodded, letting Eames lead him to a bench before they sat down.

“Thank you,” Arthur mumbled after a while of comfortable silence.

Eames blinked, and looked over at him. “For what?”

“For doing this, you know, planning dinner and everything. It was nice.”

Eames smiles and shrugs, leaning back into the bench as he loosely wrapped an arm around Arthur’s relaxed shoulders. “Anything for the man that I love.”

Arthur nearly choked. He wasn’t sure if Eames even realized what he had just said, but Arthur knew that Eames probably had. Eames was never one to make a huge scene about telling one how he felt; he always did in a very subtle, usually humorous, way. Arthur heart hadn’t stopped beating erratically since the moment that the words had left his boyfriend’s mouth.

Arthur had known that he had loved Eames — as much as he would deny it adamantly, denying it, to Arthur, made it seem like he hadn’t actually felt that way at all, which would prove to be for the best, when Eames ended up leaving him in the end – since before Eames had even asked him out. The spark had started when Eames had been taking care of him as he had gotten sick, and Arthur knew that he had fallen in love with Eames before that week was out.

But, to hear Eames say it was something different. Saying it encased the commitment that neither of them had really been comfortable admitting to yet, and now that Eames had taken the leap, that definitely meant that Eames was ready. Either he had just decided it or had known for a while.

Arthur’s mind was racing, his pulse was speeding through his veins at a speed that should’ve made him faint, and he could faintly here Eames’ voice echoing in his mind.

Love.

Arthur had been a runner in the past, never letting a relationship get to this point — whether he intentionally or unintentionally fucked up a relationship wasn’t important to Arthur — and to know that they had actually gotten to this point, jolted him.
In every great way possible.

Arthur looked over at Eames, and smiled. He truly smiled, which he could admit to that he never did often, but this was Eames, and Eames was his boyfriend. The one who he could now admit to loving dearly, the one who had accepted Arthur despite his flaws, the one who was sitting beside Arthur now.

“As I love you,” Arthur mumbled, almost so low that he wasn’t sure Eames had heard it at first, though the smile that spread across Eames’ face proved differently.

v.

It was a normal Tuesday, when it happened, when Arthur realized that he had possibly the most cheesy, most downright adorable boyfriend that there ever was.

It was a Tuesday when Arthur realized that this cheesy, adorable boyfriend had made him the happiest he had ever been.

Arthur had been skipping on clouds since their anniversary, which had been just a couple of weeks before — Eames was seemingly doing the same. It was weird, being so in tune with another person that you could finish each other’s sentences — which was starting to become something normal — and knowing exactly what’s on the other persons mind.

Arthur liked having someone that knew him better than he knew himself.

But, Arthur was beginning to think that he just really, really loved Eames and that ultimately he would love the guy no matter what adorable thing he did, or the cheesy thing that he would inevitably say to him.

“I have something for you.” Eames told him on this particular Tuesday as they were watching ‘Cool Hand Luke’, which was one of Eames favorite movies.

Every Tuesday night they’d watch a movie that one of them had liked or recommended. Arthur knew that it was incredibly cliché but he enjoyed it, something that he would deny until his dying day.

Arthur tried to ignore him, as he was actually really fond of this movie, but curiosity killed the cat. He paused the movie and looked over at his boyfriend. “Oh?” Arthur asks, quirking a curious eyebrow.

“Oh indeed,” Eames said, reaching into the table on the side of the couch and pulling out something that was in a yellow folder. Arthur had to chuckle, leave it to Eames to make it as difficult as possible to actually get the gift.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, holding the surprisingly heavy folder between his fingers. He set it down on his lap, his fingers aching to rip open the seal, but he wasn’t too sure that he wanted too yet. Knowing Eames it was probably something that Arthur wouldn’t to well enjoy.

“Just open it, Arthur.”

Arthur nodded, delicately tearing the seal with his finger and pulled out the heavy stack of papers, which were numbered. He shot Eames a curious glance. “Go on,” the man urged.

So Arthur did.

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips and looked over at his boyfriend. “You’re easily the cheesiest man alive.”

Eames chuckled and shrugged. “You’re the one who makes me this way,” he said easily.

Arthur looked at the title page, which Eames neatly typed out — in Helvetica font, which was Arthur’s favorite — ‘365 Why My Boyfriend Arthur is so Lovable’.

1. Arthur makes delicious pancakes.
2. He makes the most beautiful sounds when he’s sleeping.
3. He loves to dance when no one’s watching — don’t think I’ve never caught you before, pet. 😉
4. He appreciates a good movie
5. THE DELICIOUS SEX.

The fifth one was obviously written in a bigger, and was underlined. Five times (Eames had obviously gone under it and underlined it a few more times for good measure).

Arthur blushed noticeably and kissed Eames gently on the side of his mouth. “As pathetically cheesy as this is, it’s undeniably the cutest gift I’ve ever gotten,” Arthur whispered against Eames lips.

“I’m taking that as a thank you,” Eames whispered, causing Arthur to throw his head back and laugh.

Arthur was maybe just realizing that Eames was possibly the best boyfriend in the world.

one.

“No, no, no,” Arthur mumbled into the phone. “Bloody hell, can’t you do anything right?! I asked for the red, not the white roses!”

“Right, yes, sorry,” the voice said frantically on the other end. “I must’ve heard you wrong.”

“Damn right you heard me wrong.” Arthur paused for a moment, before continuing on with his rant, very much aware of the fact that he was sounding like a spoiled child at the moment, but he wasn’t able to bring himself to care. Everything had to be perfect. “When’s the soonest you can fix your mistake?”

“Well…sir…” The man trailed off. Arthur hissed, knowing that it wasn’t a good sign and that he would have to go and correct the mistake himself. By either walking down there and talking some sense into the stupid florist company that he had trusted to get his damn order right or by firing them and finding a new one. “We’ve already ordered your flowers.”

Arthur grunted. “Can’t you un-order them?”

“No.”

“I see. Well, I guess just add on and order of red roses as well. I’ll make it work somehow.”

“Whatever you wish, sir.”

“And actually get the order right this time, please,” Arthur added venomously before hanging up, throwing his phone onto the couch and running his fingers through his hair.

This wasn’t good, this was very far from good, and this could ruin everything that Arthur has spent the last couple of days planning. Arthur was doing something big, he was doing something bloody big and of course he had already fucked it up somehow.

Arthur wasn’t too surprised if he was being honest with himself. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing, being different than he normally was, borderline cheesy. That was Eames’ job, but Eames had been cheesy to Arthur since they started dating, and well, Arthur wanted to be cheesy back to him, only ten times more the cheese and unexpected perfection.

He couldn’t believe that he was doing this, going through with this, but he had made up his mind a while ago and he wasn’t about to back out now. He had waited for this moment and now that it was right under his fingertips, staining them, he wasn’t about to go to a new book or turn the page. He wanted this.

And he knew somewhere that he needed it too.

Eames was away on a job for a couple of days, which had thrust the opportunity to actually get this done upon him. Eames had muttered something about a ‘big pay day’ and ‘a challenge that he hadn’t had since Inception’ and Arthur wasn’t about to turn him down and tell him that he couldn’t go. Mostly because Arthur knew that if the opportunity was thrust upon him to get back into the line of doing dream work, that he would take it without hesitation.

Arthur just hoped that he wouldn’t royally screw this up, because he really wanted to show Eames how much he meant too him, and Arthur had never been good with words.

And apparently, he wasn’t good with actions, either.

*

“Eames, let’s go out tonight.” Arthur said casually, kissing Eames’ forehead gently. Arthur knew that Eames would catch on to how weird he was being, especially because Arthur wasn’t one to be openly affectionate, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

Not when Arthur’s sanity rested on how tonight went.

“Are you actually suggesting that we go do something?” Eames asked, noticeably shocked.

Arthur would’ve feigned hurt if he wouldn’t have been so nervous about everything. “Just shut up and say yes,” Arthur muttered, unable to hide the shy grin that was spreading across his face.

Eames smiled. “I would love too.”

Arthur grinned. “Good.” Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, even though he had known that Eames would say yes. He made his way to the bathroom before adding, “And make sure to wear something nice. Preferably a suit.”

He could hear Eames’ chuckles until he melted into the shower.

*

Arthur was going all out cheesy for this. He knew that Eames would be slightly shocked, and maybe a little bit put off by this, but he couldn’t help it. Cheesy was their — well, Eames’ — speciality. He had made sure that everything was set up before it had even dripped into late afternoon earlier today.

He wanted everything perfect, because this was the only way that Arthur could pay Eames back for how incredible of a boyfriend he has been for the last few years.

And if Arthur was being honest with himself, he was doing this because he wanted to, not because he had too.

He walked downstairs, not spending too much time criticizing his appearance — it honestly got him nowhere and he knew that Eames really didn’t mind what he looked like. Arthur smiled at Eames, who was looking dapper in a three piece suit, that wasn’t even a horrible one.

Obviously Arthur’s fashion sense was rubbing off on his boyfriend, finally, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile smugly at that.

“Looking positively radiant, love,” Eames said, walking over to Arthur, placing his hands on his hips as he nuzzled his nose into Arthur’s neck, placing an affectionate kiss on the sizzling skin.

“Shall we?” Arthur asked, noticeably blushing.

“We shall,” Eames kissed Arthur chastely before leading him out to the car.

After they had eaten — which Arthur had chosen the liberty of making it by a lake, with lanterns, rocks, roses and white wine to get barely buzzed on — they rested on the picnic blanket, cuddling, stealing the occasional kiss. Arthur knew that it was a good time as any, knowing that Eames would complain about being tired and would want to go home.

Arthur wanted to tell him when they were still here, in the cheesiest setting, while he said possibly the cheesiest thing that he would ever will himself to say.

He cleared his throat, looking over at Eames before licking his lips. “You know, I planned this for a while.”

Eames quirked an eyebrow, his eyes dancing. “Really?”

Arthur nodded, messing with Eames’ rough fingers with his own slender ones. “I did.” He paused for a moment. “I wanted to show you how much I cared.”

“Arthur,” Eames chuckled a little, “Appreciative of this as I am, you don’t have to show me anything. You show me you care simply by being there when I wake up in the morning.”
Arthur blushed a little before slapping Eames’ arm playfully. “I’m trying to say something here, if you would so humbly let me.”

Eames nodded. “Well, alright, go on with it.”

“I remember when we first met, you irritated the fuck out of me. I thought you were an arrogant prick, and that you were annoying, and possibly every other synonym for the word ‘horrible’ there was and I couldn’t stand being around you though you were extremely attractive.” He paused for a moment, glaring at Eames as a self satisfied smirk made its way across his boyfriend’s face. “This is no time to be self involved,”

Eames smirk only widened. “Sorry.”

Arthur hummed gently. “Right. Well, you really irritated me. I thought you were stupid for playing those stupid games, but part of me was intrigued as well. I could tell the mask that you hid behind was false and I couldn’t help but wonder what was hidden behind it. So I started playing along with your flirts — which I thought were completely harmless by the way, especially because you literally flirt with anything that moves.” Arthur said, running an affectionate finger down the side of Eames’ face.

“But then, something changed. I’m almost positive it was the few days that you took off to take care of me when I was sick. You made me feel better, you made me laugh, that was something that no one had been able to do since Mal had died. You made me feel like I was human again, like there was hope, and I know that sounds incredibly cheesy, but, well, it’s the truth.” He could feel Eames smiling into the side of his face, and it made his heart beat fast.

He was doing the right thing so far.

“After that, everything fell into place. I knew that I loved you after that. I was positive, and it scared me, but it was exhilarating at the same time. You started being affectionate and sweet, which was something that I wasn’t used to in relationships, and I was almost positive that you would end up realizing that I wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t deserve to be with someone as imperfect as me, that you deserved someone better. But you stayed, and I will never be able to honestly thank you for that.”
Arthur took a deep breath, before looking into Eames eyes, his fingers stroking the soft skin of his face, conveying in words what he wouldn’t be able to say completely. “You, Daniel Eames, are everything to me.”

Eames looked at Arthur for a few moments like he had grown a second head, possibly a few more pairs of eyes, and a couple of new noses. Arthur bit his lip, afraid that he had said something to sappy for Eames’ liking, before Eames broke into a broad grin.

“That, darling, has got to be the most cheesy, most adorable, and downright affectionate thing you have ever said to me,” Eames whispered, pressing his lips to Arthur, who immediately returned the kiss. Arthur slanted their lips together, his tongue and Eames’ working together in a slow, romantic pace. It was easily the most romantic kiss they had ever shared.

It was easily the most perfect kiss they had ever shared.

*

“I wish I’d gotten that on tape.” Eames said thoughtfully a while later and Arthur swatted at his arm.

“You always ruin the moment,” Arthur retorted, though there was nothing remotely malicious about his tone.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while before Arthur moved from Eames’ body to stare at him.

“Love?” Eames asked, looking a little bit confused and Arthur had to refrain himself from kissing him because he looked so adorable.

“Marry me.”