fanficition cove

Originally written/posted: March 2011
Fandom: Inception (2010)
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: PG
Word Count: 14,015 words
Universe Notes: This was written for a kink_meme prompt at the time for childhood!friends Arthur/Eames.
Notes: Not reread.

Twenty Years Earlier

It started when Arthur was five years old (just turned) and his older sister had told him that she was going to go start babysitting so she could help their parents out with the rent. Arthur was young, and he didn’t quite understand why his sister was working when she was only fourteen, but she was the elder, and he had to respect his elders.

But, that didn’t go so far when Arthur realized that she intended to go alone. Without him. That was just unacceptable in his eyes. Jamie and him did everything together, they went to the park and played on the swings, they play monopoly (his favorite game) and they even got ice cream every Sunday night before ‘America’s Funniest Home Video’s’. But now, she planned on going somewhere without him. That was just so, so wrong!

“But Jamie,” He whined, and looking back on it now, Arthur realized that he was probably very, very annoying, but his sister loved him as he loved her, and he kind of worshipped the ground she walked on. So it was only natural that he would be upset when she decided that they had to separate.

“Artie, I don’t think this is the place for you to come with me,” Jamie had told him, and ruffled his hair and Arthur felt young because she only ever did that when she was referring to the fact that he was too young to do something.

He narrowed his eyes at her in a way that made her smile, slightly, because a squinting five-year-old was just completely and totally adorable.

Arthur had been a cute kid.

“But Jamie! What if the kids are lonely? They might not want to play with a fourteen year old! They might want to play with me, because I’m young and handsome and strong!”

Jamie giggled, and sighed, picking him up and resting him on his hip. “Do you really want to come that badly, Artie?” She asked, and he nodded frantically, his black curls that were framing his face bounced delightfully.

“Yes! I think it would be a very important imvestant!”

“Investment, Arthur.” She says, and places a fond kiss to his hair, before putting him down on the floor. “Now go get your shoes on and let’s go!”

He grins at her, before ruffling her hair in the way that she did before, and then jumped out of her arms. “You’ve got it, kid!” He winked, or tried to rather, because he was young and he didn’t know that you were supposed to blink one eye instead of two, but it was all the same to Arthur.

His sister had just invited him to go out to a babysitting job with her, and he was almost as happy as he was when he caught Rugrats on TV in the morning.

*

It turned out, that Arthur had been right.

When they walked up to the house of the first job she’d ever held, she pulled him aside just before they reached the entrance and looked over at him with a look that he didn’t recognize at the time, but would later recognize as it being a warning, scolding.

“Don’t cause trouble, Arthur. If the parents don’t want you here and I have to take you home, do not throw a fit.” She told him and he nodded, though he knows that it won’t come down to that.

Arthur had always been well liked as a kid, he was sweet, funny, and quite small for his age. He looked like he was three or four when he was really five, and everyone would tell his mother how he should get into kids modeling. He was well-liked by his teachers in pre-school, and he had a couple of friends, but no one close enough to go over their houses and spend the night.

He thought that was really cool because his house got boring after a while, and he wanted to go to other people houses and find out what they had for dinner.

“I wont! I pinky promise,” He had said, holding out his tiny pinky for his sister to shake.

“I’m counting on you, Artie,” She says and takes his hand. “No Sunday night ice cream for two weeks if you don’t behave yourself.” She said to him.

He nodded and then offered her a smile in return before padding up the cobblestones to the front door, giggling more with every step. Once his sister finally caught up to him, she rang the doorbell and then waited for someone to answer.

It took two counts to 15 (missing some numbers in between, of course) for Arthur to see someone appearing in the window right by the door.

“Hello, you must be Jamie, right?” The woman asked, and Arthur noted that she’s very, very pretty. Just like his mommy, of course.

Jamie smiled politely and nodded. “I am, and this is my little brother, Arthur, I hope it’s okay, he just wouldn’t let me leave the house alone.”

The woman grinned and waved her hands dismissively. “Oh, darling he’s adorable,” She gushed and crouched down to Arthur’s height. “I’m Mrs. Eames,” She said, and Arthur smiled, holding out a hand.

“Hi! I’m Arthur and I’m five!” He said, proudly, because five was a much bigger number than four, and even three, too.

“Oh wow, you’re so big!” She said, and Arthur knew now that he was anything but big.

He grinned at her, beaming with delight and pride, “I know!”

She got up and then looked over at his sister. “Eames’ is just playing in the living room, if you’d like to meet him. He’s very nice, and kind of outgoing and maybe a little shy, too. But I think you’ll like him.”

“Will I like him Jamie?” He asked, because he was nervous, he didn’t know this Eames guy and what if he was mean to Arthur like some of the kids at preschool were?

Jamie nodded and ruffled his hair in a totally different way than she had earlier. This was supposed to be comforting and reassuring, and it was. It made Arthur feel all safe and warm and fuzzy and he liked it. “Of course you will Artie, you like everyone and everyone likes you.”

And Arthur wishes he could point out that she was wrong, but he had kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to upset Jamie.

*

“Eames!” Eames’ mother called, and Arthur had been swinging his arms by his side in a nervous attempt to calm down his excitement. Arthur had no problem meeting new people, though he was shy at first around kids, he liked it, the only problem was that most kids didn’t like him.
Eames had tumbled in, with a huge grin on his face, and crooked teeth, but that was okay because Arthur’s teeth were crooked too. He walked up to his mother and then looked up at her expectantly. “Yes mum?”

Arthur wasn’t sure why he talked weird, but he kind of liked it because he had a speech impediment so he understood. He looked over at Jamie, curiosity covering his features, and she patted his shoulders in a comforting way.

“Eames, darling, this is your new babysitter, Jamie,” She introduced Jamie, and Arthur was about to scream ‘what about me?’, but she turned to him and gave him and extra bright smile and he felt invincible. “This is Arthur, her younger brother. You two can play together, yeah?”

Eames nodded, and then turned to smile at Arthur, and Arthur could tell that Eames wouldn’t be mean to him like the other kids, because Eames seemed like a nice person and Arthur got along with nice people.

“Of course!” He told her, and then she kissed her forehead, said goodbye to Jamie and Arthur and was out the door.

Arthur was still incredibly shy, and Eames was still slightly scary because he was bigger than Arthur, and Arthur was scared of kids who were bigger, because they were mean to people as small as him. But Eames, he seemed nice, and though he talked funny, and his first name was the same as his last, and he his lips were too big for his face, he seemed nice and that’s all that mattered to Arthur.

*

They hit it off right away and Jamie sent them off to play in Eames’ bedroom. Arthur had been excited, because he had never, ever been invited into someone else’s room before and Eames had a much bigger house than Arthur did. His room was probably ginormous, Arthur thought at the time.

“This is my room,” Eames had said proudly, gesturing with his hands like Arthur had seen the realtors do on the house shows his mom watched.

Arthur grinned, looking at how huge and nice it was. Arthur’s room was small, and he didn’t have many toys, but he did have a lot of books that his father had passed along to him before he died. Arthur supposed it was kind of the same thing. “Your room is very nice,” Arthur said, politely.

Eames wrinkled his nose. “You talk like a grown up.”

Arthur had narrowed his eyes. “You talk funny.”

“I’m British.”

“Is that a religion?” Arthur had asked curiously.

Eames laughed, choking on his spit and Arthur was really concerned that he was going to fall down, so he patted his back. “What’s so funny?” Arthur had crinkled his nose, because he hadn’t been sure why Eames was laughing as much as he was.

When Eames had finally calmed down, he looked at Arthur and shook his head. “I’m from London, which is on the other side of the world.”

Arthur furrowed his brows, not quite getting what his new friend was trying to tell him. “Do all people in London talk funny?”

Eames nodded and then wrapped a protective arm around his shoulder. “We do. But you talk funny to us, too.”

Arthur’s eyes had widened, and he gasped. “But that’s because I have a speech iped…iped…amint..”

Eames grinned, and looked at him in the way that grown-ups would look at him when they thought he was adorable, and that made Arthur feel all warm and fuzzy, because Eames had to like him then, right? “Do you want to play some video games?”

Arthur bit his lip, he didn’t know what video games were, but he liked video tapes so maybe they were kind of the same thing. “Okay!” He said.

Eames and Arthur had played Donkey Kong on his Nintendo 64 until Arthur and Jamie had to leave, and Arthur had found that it was probably the funnest thing he had ever done. He gives Eames a hug, which the other boy returns and then waves a hand goodbye.

They’re inseparable after that.

*

Four Years Earlier

“Arthur, meet Eames, Eames, meet Arthur,” said Cobb, who looks over at Arthur with a look that distinctly says ‘be nice’. Arthur nods dismissively, not really listening to Cobb because he never really did and then turns to ‘Eames’.

He’s fucking gorgeous.

Arthur usually was passive when it came to other people and their looks. He never really felt anything in his gut flare when he saw a beautiful girl or a handsome guy, or maybe he just wasn’t look hard enough. He had never really cared about settling down because of the business he was involved in. He was pretty comfortable being alone.

But, this man, was easily the best thing he had ever seen. He was burly, and tall, almost as much as Arthur, but not quite as much. He wore disgusting clothes that should’ve been left at whatever thrift-store he had found them at, though they looked quite expensive. He had tattoo’s peeking out of the front of his collared shirt, the two top buttons undone for easy viewing pleasures.

His shoulders were nice, and broad, everything that Arthur’s lanky form could never be, but everything that he wished it could. He had long legs, but not as long as Arthur’s, and his hands were rough, big and calloused in his own. His face was particularly well-sculpted. He had a scar through his right eyebrow, but Arthur was pretty sure that it added to his charm. His cheekbones were delectable, and strong, much like his own but in a totally different shape, and he had eyes like none he’d ever seen.

They were green, but blue, and not quite sky blue, but more of a muted gray. They were easily the best thing Arthur had ever seen.

And then, those lips.

Jesus christ.

“I know I’m devastatingly handsome, love, but staring’s a little rude, no?”

Arthur glared. He might’ve been gorgeous, but his personality definitely left something to be desired. “I’m Arthur.” He said, and he could see something flash through the other man’s eyes. Recognition, maybe? Arthur wasn’t sure, but he was frozen for a few moments, and Arthur realized that he’s probably not the type to be frozen too often.

Arthur blinked, and then cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” He asked, not because he’s honestly too concerned, but because he’d rather not have to run someone to the hospital when he could be working.

Finally, Eames’ shook his head and then grinned brilliantly at Arthur, the sight going straight to the pit of his stomach. “It’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m Eames,” He said, and then winks in a way that really, really shouldn’t be attractive, and then walked away.

Arthur just stared on confused and maybe, a little bit in love.

*

Present

Arthur walks into the warehouse, after a stressful day back at his hotel, which was spent researching and then going over with more researching about their mark. His name was Dwight West, and he was a wealthy business man and his best friend, who was also the co-owner of the business they owned together, suspected that Dwight was doing some side deals with people that would make him lose a lot of money.

He immediately spots Yusuf and Ariadne off to the side, talking about something, probably buildings and chemicals, and what would happen if you’d combine a couple of chemicals in a house or something. Arthur wasn’t terribly interested in them, but he was interested in why the hell Eames’ was over at his desk, looking at him with a huge grin before walking away.

He totally bombed it, he thought, he totally and completely bombed it. He was going to die today, he was, he totally was, because no one would grin like that at someone’s desk that they had just set chocolate on.

No one.

Arthur just rose his eyebrows, not letting the anxious thoughts running through his mind deter his pokerface, and casually walked over to his desk. He most certainly was not running.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was there.

There, resting on the top of his desk, was a yellow Nintendo 64 game. His mind reeled, how the hell could he know what his favorite childhood game was? Arthur cautiously takes a step forward, because you really can never know, Eames might’ve stuck a bomb into the game somehow, and that just wouldn’t be entirely too good.

He picks it up in his hand, and looks at the label.

Donkey Kong 64

Arthur has hearts in his eyes, and he can’t help but fucking grin at it because it’s there, and well, Donkey Kong was his favorite childhood video game.

He looks over at Eames and raises and eyebrow, but Eames doesn’t see because he’s too busy grinning into his coffee and is ‘reading’ the paper.

Arthur’s not being paranoid, he’s really, truly not, because there was no way that Eames was not a Class A stalker if he had found out what Arthur’s favorite game was. Maybe he had asked Cobb, but Cobb didn’t know so he didn’t see how that was possible. Arthur hadn’t know how Eames had found out, but after spending time with Eames over the years, he had found out that there was a lot of things that Eames knew that Arthur hadn’t expected him to know.

Like:

When he was five, how his favorite color was purple, and how he had a birthmark on his knee. But Arthur rode that off, because there were public records and his mother probably had pictures of his knee’s on Facebook because his mother was just that kind of mother.

Or:

When, on their first job together, he had gotten Arthur some gummy bears. Gummy bears were something that he had loved since he was seven, and the only way that he could’ve known that was if he was robot with a super, super great intelligence, or, he was gathering enough information to kill him, slowly, with the things that he had loved.

It was sick, and cruel, and it couldn’t be true. Then, two weeks later, he found out that Cobb had told Eames’ because Eames’ was nagging him consistently about it.

Nothing made sense anymore.

And Arthur, being a guy that thrived on logic, and specificity and every other synonym in the book for the words ‘completely and totally awesome’, needed things to make sense.

Arthur was going to get to the bottom of this.

*

A couple of days later, he was talking to Ariadne about the dream, when he noticed Eames’ going over to his desk with the same shit-eating grin on his face, and Arthur feels something like butterflies swirl in his stomach. Ariadne, catching onto this, because the young girl was entirely too perceptive for her own good, smirked.

“What’s going on between you two?” She asks, her eyebrows steadily climbing into her hairline.

Arthur fights the urge to tell her how bad of a look it is on her, because he’s not that much of a dick. “Between who and I?” He asks, playing it cool and coy, though he knew exactly what she’s talking about. He’d be an idiot not too.

She rolls her eyes, shoving him lightly, and he swears he see’s something like jealousy flicker in Eames’ gaze. It did weird things to his stomach, things that he really couldn’t explain if he even tried.

“You and Eames,” She clarifies, like she’s talking to a five-year-old, rather than a twenty-five year old, and he sighs.

“I don’t know. He’s been acting weird recently…more weird than normal.”

She smirks, and then looks at him like he’s incompetent and stupid, and when it comes to Eames he probably is. “That’s because he likes you, Arthur,”

Arthur shakes his head. “Ariadne, Eames isn’t even gay.”

At this, Ariadne laughs so much that tears sprout from the corner of her eyes and she looks like she’s in need of some back rubbing or something, but Arthur doesn’t get what’s so funny. It was true, in all of the years that he had known Eames, he’d never once seen him engage in a single fling or romantic relationship.

Just because he insisted on calling Arthur ‘darling’, ‘love’, ‘pet’ and the occasional ‘bug’, didn’t mean anything. He was British, and he did call everyone that, including Ariadne.

Well, everyone except for Cobb, because Cobb was the poster-child of a heterosexual male, and Eames would probably be castrated if he even as so much as dared to call him ‘Dom’.

“Arthur, Eames is as gay as they come,” She says, once she’s finally regained some composure and Arthur just looks at her, blankly.

“He is?”

She nods, “yup, I had the pleasure of walking in on him in here, getting off on some gay porn. Which, by the way, one of the male’s looked like you and when I mentioned that he started blushing. Legit.”

Arthur shakes his head, and then puts a hand on her shoulder. “You’re just stringing me along, aren’t you?”

She smirks. “I’m being dead ass, dude.”

Arthur walks away, but not before he hears Ariadne scream ‘Walk, walk, fashion baby, show him that you’re a freak, baby!’.

Friendship terminated.

*

When Arthur got to his desk, he looked over at Eames’ desk and saw that he wasn’t there. Arthur narrowed his eyes, squinting at nothing (feeling incredibly like Cobb, which was never a good thing, because that man was as crazy as they came), and then looked down on his desk.

His heart stopped.

There, lying on his desk, like they were sent down from Jesus himself, was a packet of Cherry Pop-Rocks, and Arthur would marry them if it were legal. Fuck, he would take it back to his room and cradle it in his arms while watching The Big Bang Theory if he could. This was just beautiful and Arthur could swear that nothing in his life could ever compare to how he felt now, and he really, really wanted to find Eames and hug him. He resisted, though, because even if he had been caught wanking off to gay-porn, it didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted Arthur on him.

Though Arthur very much wanted to be there, now.

He took one look at the desk, and then gasped, an actual gasp that had gotten the attention of everyone in the warehouse, even Cobb, who had barely cared about anything these days besides his children.

“Are you okay?” He asks, dismissively, and even though he sounds like he doesn’t care, Arthur knows he does, because his eyes say it all.

Arthur nods, feebly, trying to gain some strength in his voice before willing himself to speak. “Of course,” He says.

Ariadne smirks, “don’t worry Cobb, Arthur just found another love gift from Eames.”

Arthur glared. “There’s no evidence that this was from Eames,” He snaps, though he knows that it was Eames, because he had seen him place a package that very much looked like this on his desk while talking to Ariadne. And even though what she was saying should of bothered him, because Eames’ was kind of insufferably amazing, it didn’t.

He had absolutely no idea why, either.

He opened the package, and smelt the sweet aroma, and he almost about had a fucking orgasm, because this shit was the candy he had prided himself on. This was his rock (literally) through every hardship in his life. Girls ate chocolate, Arthur drowned himself in Pop-Rocks.

He couldn’t even begin to decide which was more pathetic.

But this was perhaps the most amazing thing he had witnessed since he had found that Donkey Kong 64 game resting on his desk (which he had taken the liberty of gathering up his old Nintendo 64 and playing it for hours instead of doing work the first night he got it). He popped a couple in his mouth and enjoyed the crackles and pops that fizzed along the surface of his tongue.

Hell, had he missed those.

He finished the whole pack in three minutes flat, and if Eames’ noticed, then he was kind enough to not say anything.

*

Everyone had already left besides Eames and him for the night, and it had been bugging Arthur for the last couple of days as to why Eames was doing this. If he was, interested in Arthur, then he could’ve just asked him out on a date — Arthur refused to acknowledge that Eames had already done this, countless times — and he probably would’ve said yes.

Arthur was confused, and slightly mortified, but also a little (a colossal understatement) in love so he didn’t really mind.

He corned Eames at his desk before he could slip into the shadows of the darkened warehouse. Perching himself on the edge of his desk, he looks at Eames for a long time before saying anything. “Why?” He asks, because he’s curious and curiosity kills the cat, right?

Arthur’s always considered himself a cat person, anyways, so it made sense.

“Why what?” Eames asks, innocently, though it’s obvious that he knows exactly what Arthur’s questioning and just wants him to fish for it.

“Why are you leaving all of these ‘gifts’ for me?” He clarifies, and then realizes how that could come off as ungrateful, and he truly was anything but. “I mean, not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s slightly creepy how you’ve gotten everything that I love correct.” He says.

Eames beams, and it’s way too familiar but incredibly strange at the same time. “I don’t know,” He pauses for a moment, to shrug on his suit jacket, giving Arthur a look that implied that he knew a lot more than he was letting on. “I guess I’m just feeling generous.”

And Arthur knows that’s a lie, because he knows Eames, they’ve known each other for four years, and have done more than a dozen jobs together, and he can tell when he’s lying, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Arthur,” He says and then like that he’s gone.

“Goodnight,” He says, to no one in particular, because no one is there but him, with Eames long gone, creeping into the shadows of the warehouse.

*

Arthur was so blind with glee that he didn’t even realize that the boy who introduced him to Pop-Rocks had the same exact name as Eames.

*

Approx. 19 Years Earlier

Arthur had just gotten back from T-Ball (because his parents insisted on getting him involved in something to build his confidence and muscle) when he trickled into Eames‘ house. Eames and him were inseparable, now. They did everything together, and Arthur loved every second of it. He loved being close to a boy his own age, it gave him a sense of security.

For example:

Eames’ parents had invited him over for dinner and a sleepover, and Arthur had been so excited for it that he forgot to pack pajamas, and Eames had let him borrow a pair of his. Arthur had never met anyone so cool and willing when it came to things like that, but Eames’ was his only friend.

And Arthur was just fine with that, because Eames’ was the only person he’d ever need. He was the only person he wanted.

Today, though, Eames had said that he had a surprise for Arthur. Arthur generally had hated surprises (and still did) but this was Eames, and his surprises had never let him down.

Arthur walked into his room and see’s him lounging on his bed, making noises that he hadn’t quite recognized, and then he saw him have some type of candy in his hands. He had let curiosity get the best of him and he climbed up on the bunk and grinned.

“What are you eating?” He asked, curiously, sitting by Eames as they had done thousands of times.

Eames had grinned as wide as his face would allow. “These are the surprise, Arthur! My mum said I could buy these for tonight because it’s your birthday in a few days.”

Arthur grinned. “I’m going to be six years old!” He had said proudly and Eames’ nodded, delightfully.

“I know! I got you these as part of your gift,” He says and Arthur feels his heart burst. His gift. He’d never received a gift from a friend before.

He beamed, because how could he not when Eames was promising him the coolest thing ever? “I’ve never gotten a gift from a friend before.” Arthur had said.

Eames furrowed his brow. “Not even from your best mates?”

Arthur wasn’t sure what mates meant, but he had heard it on an Animal Planet show when two monkey’s were doing their ‘funny dance’. They had called them ‘mates’ and Arthur supposed they were just really, really special friends.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t… I don’t have any friends.. besides you.”

Eames had looked a little confused, and maybe a little heartbroken for a moment (Arthur couldn’t tell, because he was five, and what the hell did he know?) before he turned to Arthur and gave him the best grins of grins. Arthur had decided that it was his favorite look on Eames, because he liked his crooked teeth.

It reminded him that he wasn’t as alone as he thought he was.

He wrapped a protective arm around Arthur’s shoulders, making him feel safe and protected. Arthur wouldn’t have hoped to be anywhere else. Because he looked up to Eames, Eames was that boy, that big boy, that everyone wanted to be but no one could quite get there because he was Eames and there was only enough room for one.

But Arthur, did try, he tried to be like Eames everyday, and every time one of their parents would tell him that he was acting like Eames, he would beam, and then say ‘That was what I was aiming for, kid!’

He’s not sure what ‘aim’ exactly meant, but he saw it in a movie before and he thought that it fit.

“You’re my best friend Arthur,” He told him and Arthur grinned so wide, that it made Eames grin, and Arthur may have been young, but he thought that was quite beautiful.

“You’re my best friend too, Eames,” He said back, and Eames’ beamed back, and looking back on it now, Eames was probably just saying that because he felt pity for Arthur, but back then, it was his proudest moment.

(And even now, it still was).

Arthur then bounced on the bed excitedly, and held out his hand expectantly. “I wanna try that!”

Eames chuckled, or laughed or maybe he even did something stupid like push Arthur a little, and Arthur can’t remember now because the fine details don’t matter. It was Eames, and he was like a God to Arthur, and he was just glad that Eames was his friend when no one else was.

“They’re called Pop-Rocks,” Eames had said, and Arthur blinked.

“Why would you put rocks in your mouth? Isn’t..that..unsantanry?”

Eames laughed, like he always did when Arthur said something that didn’t quite make sense, but was two beats and a skip from doing so. Arthur didn’t get the joke, but he laughs too because Eames’ laugh is contagious and he just honestly wants to make Eames happy.

“No, silly willy! They’re candy, and they’re really great. Here,” He had said, putting a couple of sticky ‘rocks’ in his hand. “Try them.”

Arthur looked at them curiously for a little bit, but eventually put them in his mouth, because Eames would never, ever do something to hurt Arthur. They were best friends, they were mates, and that was special.

Special friends didn’t hurt their special friends.

Once they were in his mouth, Arthur giggled at the sensation, it felt like a party popper was exploding in his mouth and he wanted more. They were sweet and it was nice, and it made him giggle and laugh. Eames really was the best boy he had ever met.

“These are awesome!”

Eames grinned, beaming at Arthur, proudly, because he had introduced them to Arthur and no one else had. “Do you want more?”

Arthur had nodded, frantically. “Yes please,”

And they ate the entire box, and Eames’ mother had screamed at them, but it was worth it. Everything was worth it because Eames was his best friend, and they had candy together, and whether it was a huge thing for Eames or not, it was for Arthur.

*

And after that, well, if Arthur ate them so much that his teeth started to rot, it was because they were delicious and they were his favorite, and it totally wasn’t because Eames had given them to him.

*

This time, it was a Rugrats VHS. Arthur could spot it from across the warehouse where he was talking to Yusuf about a compound that he had just made and wanted to try. Arthur, seeing himself as the perfect candidate for being his Guinea Pig, offered to be the one to try it out.

Yusuf, of course, nodded and then looked at him for a couple of seconds. “Are you sure you want too do this, Arthur?” He asks, probably because he’s just being polite.

Arthur nods. “Of course I want too. Why wouldn’t I?”

Yusuf bites his lip in thought for a few moments before looking over at him. “Aren’t you and Eames’ involved, now?”

Arthur blinks, and then blinks again. Then he chuckles, because he doesn’t know how to make himself feel less awkward than he does now. “No,” Arthur says, easily, though he feels something swirl in his chest that he doesn’t quite recognize. Disappointment, probably.

“Ah,” Yusuf says, brilliantly, and then turns back to his compound. “I just thought that you were, because, he’s been leaving you gifts for the last week or so.”

Arthur licks his lips, wetting them because they’ve suddenly gone dry like his mouth just had. “I’m not..sure what that’s about. Eames wouldn’t tell me and then left before I could force it out of him.” Arthur’s confused, and slightly disappointed, because he thought that this meant that Eames was ready to — fuck.

Arthur realizes that he just might be a little infatuated with him, maybe even a little in love.

Yusuf rose an eyebrow. “Maybe he doesn’t want you to know.”

Arthur doesn’t take his suggestion to heart, because he knows Eames and he also knows that he’s doing this because he’s playing a game. He thinks. He could never be quite sure with Eames, because he didn’t really care too much about anything, it seemed. He looked at eyes through the life a fourteen-year-old that really wants some fucking pizza.

He used to think that everything was a game to the other man, but now he’s not so sure.

Eames wouldn’t go through all of this trouble, placing Arthur’s favorite things on his desk every couple of days just to play a game. Eames wasn’t a maniac, he wasn’t that terrible of a person, maybe he was doing this for reasons that Arthur doesn’t quite understand, yet.

“I guess.” Arthur finally says, running his fingers over his shirt absentmindedly, straightening the wrinkles out that were never completely there, trying to focus on anything but thinking about Eames. It made his head hurt, and for some reason it reminded him of his childhood, and he didn’t understand because he hadn’t known Eames then, and he just wanted to figure out what the hell all of this meant.

Yusuf grins at him then, a little guilty for bringing it up, but not enough to ruin his good mood. “Let’s get started on this test run then, shall we?”

Arthur looks over at the VHS in contemplation. He really wanted to see which episodes were included on the VHS, but he really wanted to try out this compound as well. Arthur like trying new things, he liked getting thrust into a world where he didn’t know what the hell was happening now or tomorrow, or even yesterday. Which, was why every time Yusuf had made a new compound, Arthur had offered to test it out.

“Yeah,” Arthur finally says, because he can feel Yusuf’s eyes on him curiously, and he’s pretty sure the smile stretching across his face isn’t from amusement. “Let’s get this going,”

The last thing he see before falling into black is Eames’ face, and he isn’t entirely sure why he’s so young.

*

When Arthur was finally aware of his surroundings in the dream, he realized he was in his house, the house of his childhood that he had grown up in. He hadn’t known why his subconscious had chosen to delve into this, but he rode it off. He didn’t try and hover over the reason why he was here, he just went with it. He looked around the house, noting that it was probably around the time he was about six or so years old.

“Eames!” He heard himself (his little self) shout, and he snaps his head to where the sound is coming from. He follows it, walking up the stairs and into the hallway, pausing outside of his door, he heard screaming and a little bit of crying and he didn’t know what the hell was going on.

“Arthur, Arthur, stop, please, please stop,” Eames says, and his voice is strained, and Arthur can’t remember this particular moment. He doesn’t even remember growing up with a boy named Eames, and that’s probably because he’s repressed it.

It hit’s him like a fucking landslide, and he can’t escape it this time.

“No! I can’t stop, Eames! You’re leaving me!” Arthur feels a pang to his heart, because now he can remember, he can remember sitting up in his room, after Eames had left, waiting for him to come back because he promised he eventually would, but he never did. He remembers the bullies gaining up on him in the neighborhood and tormenting him for being a ‘sissy’ and pushing him around because big ‘ol Eames wasn’t there to protect him anymore.

“I don’t want to leave Arthur,” Eames says and he sounds like he’s crying too, and Arthur just wants to run in there and snatch both of them up and just hold them because he knows that it’s not going to turn out the way that either of them expect them too, but he can’t, because he knows he’s listening for a reason.

“Can’t you buy a house on your own?” Arthur’s younger self whined, and his heart broke, because Eames’ was only eight and though Arthur was naive then, he wasn’t now. “I’ll help you save up money for it. I have 10 pennies, Eames, ten pennies! That should buy us a house, won’t it? Won’t it?”

“Arthur,” Eames says, and he hears shuffling so he imagines that Eames probably scooped him up and hugged him, and he know’s he did because he can remember it now.

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

“I’m… you’re my only friend, Eames… I don’t… I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“You don’t have too. Don’t say goodbye to me, Arthur. Never say goodbye, because goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting.”

Arthur can see it now, he can see it play out in his head. Arthur had simply looked up at Eames, mystified, with tear filled eyes and whispered. “Peter Pan.”

Eames had ruffled his hair and had whispered: “That’s right, Wendy.”

And then, everything collapsed.

*

Arthur’s gasping as he wakes up, holding his throat because he felt like he’s being constricted, and he can’t breathe. He feels a hand on his shoulder, which he’s sure is Yusuf’s but he doesn’t care right now because he can’t focus on anything

“Arthur?” Yusuf whispers, “Are you alright?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Tell Cobb I’m taking a half day,”

Yusuf nods, and then pats his shoulder. “Of course,” He says, and then let’s Arthur go, and Arthur’s relieved.

“How was the stability of the dream? If I can ask?”

Arthur barely looks over his shoulder. “Didn’t falter once,” He says, picks up the Rugrats VHS off of his desk and heads for the door, without looking at Eames.

*

When Arthur gets home, it’s a lot easier to think than it was at the warehouse. He thinks over everything, and what he it could possibly mean. Arthur’s never been one to be suspicious about anything, but there was no way that the Eames from his childhood and the Eames that he knows today aren’t possibly connected somehow.

There’s no way they’re the same person though, because Arthur would’ve seen that when he pulled up his file, he would’ve seen that he grew up in Boca Raton, just like Arthur. And it wasn’t there, it never said anything about Eames growing up in Florida, or at least in the years that he had actually been there with Arthur.

But the weirdest thing was, that the files from the time that he was six, till the time that he was eight were completely and totally missing. There was no trace of evidence that suggested that he even existed during those years.

Arthur tried not to think about it, because when he thought about his childhood, he thought about that Eames, and Arthur didn’t know it at the time, but he knew that he loved him, not in a romantic sense, but in a way that you love your best friend, your mate. He just thought that he worshiped him back then, that he wasn’t someone that he could actually miss until he was fucking gone. He was everything to Arthur, everything and more, and once he left his world completely shattered.

Arthur didn’t know how much he meant until he faded into the shadows.

His mother told him that he refused to pass by their house until he was nine years old. Arthur didn’t know how reliable that was, but he doesn’t remember going by their old house that often when he was a kid. She also told him that he didn’t sleep for a week and they had to take him to his pediatrician. Though she probably only said that to make him feel better about them never talking (though it really didn’t help).

He looks at the VHS tape that he placed on his kitchen counter, he had willed himself not to look at it until he got home because he didn’t want to get into a car accident. But now, he was alone and he could look at all that he wanted too, he could see what episodes it was and he could dive back into the childhood that he left behind way too soon. He could, but he didn’t know if he really actually could.

He would try, at least.

He picked up the VHS between his fingertips and he could’ve sworn that he’s felt it before, it was just familiar and it made him want to cry and Arthur never cried. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, half of him felt like screaming, and getting angry, wanting to push Eames off a cliff for making him feel like this, and the other half just wanted to cry and go to Eames and tell him that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing but that he wanted to understand why he was doing this. He was just a hurricane of emotions right now and he didn’t even want to do this anymore. He wanted to tell Eames to stop because for some reason he reminded him of his childhood, but he also wanted him to continue, because though this was tearing him apart and making him feel shitty, it was also filling up the void inside his chest that he hadn’t know was there until Eames had actually attempted to fill it.

Arthur also felt like he was overlooking something but he wasn’t sure what. But, he knew that it was significant and it bothered him, because he was a point-man, he thrived on specificity and fact, and logic and somehow he couldn’t even figure out what Eames was playing at.

It was incredibly unnerving.

He popped it into the VHS player (that he still kept around; he watched The Lion King on it when he was feeling nostalgic) and sat down his couch to watch it. He hadn’t pressed play yet, but a million thoughts were running through his mind, and he couldn’t control them, he needed them to stop. But he wasn’t tired, so he couldn’t go to sleep, so he did the only thing that he knew would make the shit stop:

Drink.

He cracked open the bottle of whiskey and drank until he could barely see, and he might’ve been sick to his stomach, but at least he couldn’t think about anything anymore.

He was off to a great start, obviously.

And then, he finally pressed play.

*

Arthur had been five, and it had been a few weeks after Eames’ and him had first met and became friends. He was excited, he was having his very first sleepover at his very first friends house and he wanted to jump and scream and do a lot of other things that kids did when they were excited. Like kick and roll and jump and yell and dance and sing, he wanted to go up to his dad and kiss his forehead and he wanted to dance around the living room with his mom, and he even wanted to help brush Jamie’s hair.

He’s never truly wanted to any of those things before, but he has to acknowledge how great it feels to finally admit how nice each of those sound.

He was running around the house now, running around his sister and he was skipping. He had felt free, something that he had never, ever felt before, and it had been Eames that had made him feel that way.

It had been Eames that had talked to him when no one else took the chance and Arthur wouldn’t know how significant that was until he was much, much older.

“Jamie! Come on, I’m going to be late! Eames said I must be there at three in the morning! It’s already 2:45! We’re going to be late!”

Jamie giggled at him, like she always did when Arthur was being that ‘adorable-oh-hey-can-i-just-pinch-your-cheeks kind of child. Arthur hadn’t mind her laugh, because he liked it and it made him feel all happy to hear his sister happy. “Artie, you’re not due over there for another ten minutes.”

He had shaken his head. “The guest is always a good guest if he is early!”

Jamie had looked at him with a look that he didn’t recognize, but he didn’t think the look suited her face. But he was a nice kid, and nice kids never said anything horrible, especially something that would hurt someone. “Where’d you hear that from?”

Arthur had shrugged, putting on his green trucker hat that said ‘I May Be Small (But I make up for that in heart)’ and strapped on his backpack all by himself. “Full House,”

She snorted and ruffled his hair, causing him to wrinkle his nose and stare up at her with curious and excited eyes. “Alright, alright, let’s go.”

He grinned the whole way to Eames’ house.

*

When he arrived, Eames was the one who answered the door, and Arthur didn’t care if he looked weird or if Eames’ hit him but he went up to him and hugged him. He couldn’t hold back the delighted squeal when he hugged back. Arthur felt on top of the world, Eames had actually hugged him back!

Arthur couldn’t recall a moment when he had been happier. Even his fifth birthday didn’t compare, and that had be absolutely wonderful.

When they pulled away, Arthur grinned at him and Eames had grinned back, because Eames was a smiley person just like Arthur was.

Arthur supposed that’s why they were good for each other, because they would never, ever be sad.

Arthur hated being sad.

“Hi, Arthur!” Eames had said, and grabbed Arthur’s sleeping bag, though Eames had a bunk bed, Arthur liked sleeping bags. They reminded him that he wasn’t at home.

“Hi!” He said excitedly and walked in with Eames. They were in his room a few minutes later, Eames having picked out the snack from the kitchen to bring up his room. He was putting some Honey & Oats cereal in two cups and handed one to Arthur.

Arthur, suddenly getting idea, burst with excitement. “We should have nicknames for each other!”

Eames rose an eyebrow curiously. “Nicknames?”

“Like code-names. I saw it in a Scooby Doo, it’s.. like… only we know what it means and it would be cool and totally incaganto!”

Eames giggled then, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Incognito, you mean.”

Arthur furrowed his brow. “That’s what I said.”

Eames had shaken his head, and invited him onto his bunk and Arthur felt special because his bunk was obviously the coolest place ever. “Come on Oats,”

Arthur grinned, then, because he was using a code-name even though he probably had thought it was stupid. “If I’m Oats than you’re Honey!”

Eames had grinned. “Sound’s good,” He said.

Arthur looked over at him. “I brought something for us to watch!” He declared proudly, tipping his head up like he’d seen some people in really baggy clothes do when they were singing but only they sounded like a bunch of words thrown together. Apparently it was called ‘rap’ but Arthur hadn’t really cared, he didn’t like it too much.

Plus those men were very, very scary.

“What’s that?”

Arthur grinned and thrusted the VHS into his hands. “RUGRATS!”

Eames had grinned back at him and then nodded. “Let’s watch it then!”
And they did, and when they went to sleep, Arthur looked up at the ceiling, before realizing he forgot to do something. “Hey, Eames?” He asked timidly.

Eames shuffled around, making small noises that could only clue into how he was almost asleep. “Mhhhg”

Arthur had bit his lip, and hugged his teddy bear close to him. “Goodnight, Honey,”

He could hear Eames’ smile around the words as he said them: “Goodnight, Oats.”

*

Arthur was so excited about watching the VHS for their first sleepover together that he left it over Eames’ house. He never asked about it and Eames never mentioned it, but Arthur just figured that’s what friends do.

You lend your friends stuff and they never return them because it’s part of the secret pact of friendship, he supposed.

And he was honestly just fine with it then, because that would mean that Eames would always have a part of him with him.

*

Eames didn’t wait a couple of days this time. When Arthur walked into the warehouse the next morning, still nursing the worst hang over he’d ever had, he looked on the desk and saw something that nearly broke him, in a good way. He squealed (he didn’t know why because Arthur considered himself manly, but you couldn’t exactly blame him for wanting to run up to someone, maybe even Cobb and give them the biggest hug in the world.

He settled for Ariadne though, and ran up to her and gave her a coma-inducing hug and spun her around.

Ariadne, when she can breathe, giggles and then says: “I thought our friendship was terminated.”

He rose a brow. “I never said anything like that out loud,” He muses.

“No,” She agrees, “but you did find the liberty to text it to me last night.”

He blushes, he actually fucking blushes and he’s not sure why, but he’s not even embarrassed because he’s so happy he could jump off the bridge and still be fine with a few broken bones. “Oh, uh, yeah, I.. um, I was drunk.”

She rose her brow. “I suppose that has something to do with the Rugrats VHS that you found on your desk yesterday, hm?”

Arthur shakes his head, because in the end, it wasn’t about the Rugrats VHS, it was about his dream, and it had nothing to do with Eames or his gifts, but in someway it had everything to do with them too, and he was just as confused as he was when he left, but he wasn’t as upset as he had been.

In fact, he wasn’t even upset, he was happy, because a pikachu pillow was now resting on his desk and it reminded him of the one from his childhood and Arthur really did have no idea how he found it but he wasn’t going to question it, because this was Eames and he probably could get anything he asked for.

“It’s not about the Rugrats VHS that I got yesterday, not at all,” He says, looking over at Eames where he was watching them while pretending to read ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’. It was pretty obvious that he was dying to know what they were talking about, and Arthur would’ve been lying if he had said that he hadn’t enjoyed seeing Eames squirm like he was.

“Then what was it about?” Ariadne asked, and he wished he could’ve ridden her off as being nosy, but she was incredibly perceptive and only pushed when she knew that something could be pushed.

Arthur sighs, runs his hand through his hair (old nervous habits die hard), and then steadies his gaze on hers. “I tried out Yusuf’s new compound yesterday and it brought back memories that I had repressed, and Eames’ gift kind of… was connected somehow.” He furrows his brow because he still doesn’t see how Eames had gotten ahold of everything that he had, but he wasn’t about to question it, because questioning it lead to angst and depression, and he had enough of that yesterday.

Ariadne nodded, knowing that he wasn’t entirely telling the truth but it was good enough for her, because Ariadne only pushed when she knew he could handle it. “Hm, anyways, you missed Cobb’s speech yesterday.”

Arthur smirked. “Oh?”

Ariadne nodded. “Apparently we need to add a third level onto the dream because his subconscious is militarized and we’re going to need to ‘go deeper’ as he says.” She mimic’s his squint so perfectly that Arthur has to throw his head back and laugh.

“This is the Fischer job all over again,” Arthur sighs, and she laughs because what else can she say to something that’s actually true?

*

When Arthur got back to his desk, he picked up the pikachu pillow from his desk, and once he had made sure that no one was looking, he hugged it to his chest, basking in the scent of it. He felt like a kid that had just gotten loose in a candy shop, everything was shiny and glorious and nothing hurt.

He just wanted to snatch up the pillow, run home and sleep with it. He hadn’t realized how much the pillow had actually meant to him until it was in his hands now. He felt eyes on his back, and he didn’t even bother to turn around to know that it was Eames.

Eames.

The same Eames that had been sending him gifts for the last week and a half or so. The same Eames that was no looking at him, amusement and sincere curiosity clouding his eyes. Arthur puled away from the pillow, noticing how an onlooker might take this as, and turns to Eames.

“Thank you,” He says sincerely, and even smiles, and the smile he gets in return is nothing short of heart stopping.

“You’re welcome,” Eames says, reaching out to touch it but Arthur’s hand slaps him away.

“No, no touching him, he doesn’t like to be touched.”

Eames quirks an eyebrow, terribly amused and Arthur really, really wishes he had kept his mouth shut. “And suddenly this pillow has feelings, hm?”

Arthur nods, “It’s Pikachu, he’s always had feelings,” Arthur clarifies, and he’s aware that he sounds like a complete freak, but Eames is smiling so that must count for something.

“Huh,” Eames mumbles, before patting his shoulder. “Who would’ve thought.”
Arthur looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Thank you.”

“For?”

Arthur rolls his eyes, because this is what happens every time he tries thanking Eames’ for one of his gifts, and then he walks away and watches him like he’s waiting for something. Arthur doesn’t understand what, though, and simply smiles at him.

Eames always smiles back.

“For the pillow.”

Eames simply smiles lopsidedly, that really shouldn’t be as adorable as it was, and then walks away. He was no closer at finding out what the hell all of this meant than he was earlier.

*

Arthur was six and Eames was eight, Christmas was in a few days so both families were buzzing happily with excitement (especially Arthur, who insisted on wearing Christmas sweaters five sizes too big because it would ‘impress Santa Claus’). His sister was taking him out to go shopping, and he wanted to get something extra special for Eames.

“It has to be perfect for Honey,” Arthur had said.

Jamie had looked at him as they both walked through the mall, curiously and slightly confused. “Who’s Honey?”

Arthur just smirks. “That’s what they all ask me, babe!”

Jamie had giggled, and Arthur beamed as he always did and drug her into a toy store in the mall. “It has to be perfect, Jamie. Honey has to like it.” He insisted, and his sister had nodded, not knowing who ‘Honey’ was but definitely having a hunch as too who it might be.

“Of course, Arthur. We won’t leave until you find the perfect gift.” Jamie assured him, though it hadn’t done much, because he was bouncing through the aisle’s nervously, saying no to every toy that he had seen.

“This is unpossible, Jamie! There’s nothing here.” He had frowned, deeply and he had felt like crying because he couldn’t find the perfect gift for Eames, and if he couldn’t find the perfect gift, then Eames might not invite him over anymore. If Eames didn’t invite him over anymore than they couldn’t be mates.

And that made Arthur very, very sad.

Jamie grinned at the misusage of his words and then patted his back, in the reassuring way that she always did and picked him up to rest on his hip. Arthur, not having grown much since he was five, was still very light and very small, so it didn’t look as weird as it might’ve been. “Arthur, we’ll find them a gift, I promise.”

Arthur had looked at his sister, and held out his pinky. “Pinky promise?”

She shook his finger and nodded. “Pinky promise.”

“That’s a pact Jamie, it’s the pacts of pacts of pacts and if you break it…then I get to disinlimbage you!”

Jamie grinned at her brother, because he was adorable, and though Arthur knew that he hadn’t know what the hell he was saying, because ‘disinlimbage’ wasn’t a word, he imagined he meant something along the lines of taking off her limbs.

And then, that was when he saw it. Eames’ perfect gift, the gift that would no doubt be a treasure of his until he grew old and gray like his dad. Arthur jumped down from his sisters hold and ran over to it and picked it up. “It’s perfect.”

It was a set of ‘poker’ chips and some playing cards, and Arthur knew that he would love it.

“Are you sure?” Jamie eyed what her brother had picked out, skeptically, because what little kid would like poker chips and cards?

He nodded. “I’m sure Honey will adore this.”

So Jamie bought for him, and they got it specially gift wrapped, and Arthur felt like he was going to be giving Eames’ the most perfect gift he had ever received. That night, when he was packing his bag for Eames’ house, he managed to slip the gift inside before anyone else could even notice.

*

“Arthur!” Eames greeted once he arrived at his house, and Arthur let go of his mom’s hand to walk in.

“Bye mom,” He says, because he’s six, and he’s now a man, and he can’t go around calling his mom something embarrassing like mommy in front of other men.

She waved, bent down to kiss his forehead, and ruffled his hair. That whole ruffling his hair thing was starting to get old, but it was his mom and he loved her, so he took it. “Bye Arthur, be a good bye. Goodnight, Eames,”

Eames had grinned. “Goodnight Miss Pam!”

Arthur walked into his house and grinned, unable to hold in his excitement because he just had picked up the best present ever for the best person ever, and he wanted Eames to open it and enjoy it. “Hi, Honey,” He whispers, low enough so only he could hear, and Eames beams at him like he always does, and Arthur feels warm and fuzzy, and his cheeks are probably red by now.

They go up to Eames room, and they find themselves on Eames’ bed, facing each other as Arthur gives his gift out too Eames and Eames does the same for him. Arthur’s a bubble of excitement that he’s not able to contain as he stares at his best friend.

“Who goes first?” Eames asked, curiously, eyeing his present with hungry eyes.

“You, because you’re the eldest.”

Eames nodded, in agreement, probably because he was too impatient to actually wait to see what it was, and tore open the box, and Arthur, in his child-like goal and need to please people, started rambling.

“I don’t know if you like these… poker… poker circle things.. but I saw them.. in your favorite movie… and you said you wished you had some..and I know you like cards…so I mean.. if you don’t like them… I’ll take them back and get you something different…because I only want to make you happy and… I..” Arthur trailed off, because Eames is suddenly looking at him in the way that Arthur now distinguishes as ‘holy-fuck-you’re-adorable’ and even then he knew to stop when he saw that look.

“Arthur,” He said appreciatively, and then leans across to hug Arthur tightly. Arthur melts into the hug, because he’s always liked Eames’ hugs, they made his insides feel all warm and fuzzy, and then Eames pulled back and kissed his cheek in a way that he’d seen him do to countless other people.

It still made him feel special, because he’s never seen him do it to someone like Arthur.

“Do you like it?” He asks tentatively, afraid of the answer but wanting to know anyways.

Eames nods. “It’s perfect… no one’s ever.. listened to me like that before.”

Arthur grinned, so wide it didn’t fit his face, but he was young so he didn’t care. “I’m glad you like it then, Honey,”

Eames grinned and then gestured toward the gift that was sitting in his lap. It was soft and flexible and the wrapping job wasn’t very good, but it was obvious Eames had done it, so he loved it anyways. “Open your gift, Oats,”

And then Arthur nodded, and tore open his gift, his eyes widening when he saw what it was. “Pikachu,”

Eames bit his lip, not sure all of the sudden if that was the right gift for Arthur. “You like it, yeah?”

Arthur grinned, and tackled him on to his back, like they always did when they were play wrestling. It went on for a while, Arthur was small, but he was consistent and it threw Eames off at it had always done. Eventually though, Eames had grown tired and had just given up. Arthur smirked in triumph.

Once they were settled back down, Arthur took Eames’ hand and gave it an appreciative squeeze before letting go. “I love it. Pikachu’s my favorite Pokemon.”

Eames grinned. “I know, but I’m glad you like it.”

Arthur fell asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow, and if Eames noticed, he hadn’t said anything about it.

*

“Arthur, there’s something on your desk,” Cobb says, brushing past him to get to some of the instant coffee.
Arthur rose his brows and looked over at his desk. Sure enough there was a box there, that was wrapped, which was odd, because nothing was ever wrapped. On top of the box, was a picture frame of some sort. Arthur absently wondered if it was a picture of what was inside the box, or maybe something gross and disgusting and totally Eames-like. “There is,” He repeats, absentmindedly.

“I think Eames’ likes you.”

“What a brilliant observation, Cobb.” He says cheekily, unable to help but tease a little. It had been a while since the whole ‘hey-I’m-going-kind-of-crazy-because-of-mal-she’s-a-crazy-psycho-bitch-haunting-my-dreams’ and Cobb could smile easier now. He was getting easier to be around, and Arthur found that he could joke with him a lot more than he would’ve been able too if Inception hadn’t been such a success.

Cobb squinted, narrowing his eyes and then sighs, put out and probably a little annoyed, but only playfully. “Sorry, I was only digging deeper,” He says, feigning hurt but Arthur knows he’s anything but.

“Into our non-existent relationship?”

Cobb smirks, and then shrugs. “To you, it’s non-existent to everyone else, including Eames, there’s definitely something beneath the surface.”

Arthur scowled, biting at the corner of his mouth to keep from smiling. “Shut up and go call Saito or something.”

Cobb squints deeper and then walks away, and Arthur’s sure he can hear him mutter something like ‘sex deprived asshole’ under his breath, but he’s too proud of himself to care.

*

What he see’s, when he gets there, makes him stop dead in his tracks.

And then he blinks.

Three times.

Only to blink about another twenty.

It’s a picture of him and Eames, and he knows that this picture could’ve been duplicated easily, but it’s unmistakeable, he has the same one sitting on the mantle of his fireplace. It’s definitely him and another boy, him and another boy named Eames.

Arthur’s to shocked to realize what this means, but he holds it too his chest anyways, because it’s a picture that’s so delightful to see, and he just wants to sit there and hug it because he can. It’s a picture that means everything, but not quite, because it means so much more than just a simple word that doesn’t really have significant meaning.

He hugs it for a while, not really caring who’s watching because it’s his picture and he’ll hug it if he wants too, goddammit. He finally sets the picture down, and then looks over at Eames’ desk, and finds it empty.

There’s a void in his chest suddenly, but he ignores it, because he doesn’t want to get sad when something like this has just happened, so he simply picks up the box, and carefully unwraps it, fully intending on keeping the wrapping paper for future use.

His mind goes completely blank when he see’s what’s there.

It’s a G.I. Joe action figure.

But it’s not just any G.I. Joe action figure, it’s a G.I. Joe 25th Anniversary Cobra Commander action figure, which had been his favorite when he was younger (only it wasn’t 25 years old, yet). He gasped, and then held put it right by the picture frame.

He didn’t have the heart to open it, but it was definitely going up on his mantle when he got home.

He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he knew that there was something fishy about Eames’ and these gifts, and he was also, almost positive that Eames was trying to tell him something.

And then, like a fucking landslide it hits Arthur.

Eames is his Eames, the Eames from his childhood that he never got completely over.

Eames was the Eames that he had stayed up with late when they had sleepovers, talking about the future and how Eames wanted to be a blackjack dealer, and how Arthur had wanted to be a pirate, and if that didn’t work out, they’d both run for president. He was the one that he had first tried Smores with when they had went camping for the first time, he was the one that he had first gone swimming with at the beach.

Arthur wasn’t angry like he thought he would be, he wasn’t angry or mad, or anything that he should’ve been. He was mystified and a little bit astounded, and maybe a little happy too.

A lot of happy, actually.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about this, but he knew he had to take action, because there was only going to be so much before Eames’ grew tired and gave up, and if there was one thing that Arthur didn’t want, it was Eames growing tired.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until Yusuf had dropped Kleenex’s off on his desk, and Arthur didn’t even say thank you, because he didn’t have too, by the look on Yusuf’s face, he already knew it all.

*

Arthur was six and a half, and Eames was nearly almost nine (in a few months). It was one of their last times being together before Eames was moving to London. Arthur had grown used to the idea, he told himself that Eames would be back, that this wasn’t for eternity, but he still cried into his pillow every night. Every night he would hope and pray that something would come up and Eames wouldn’t have to leave.

But he still had too, and Arthur’s hope deteriorated into nothing.

They were at Arthur’s house this time, because Eames said he hadn’t wanted to be home, and Arthur didn’t want to particularly leave his either. They were in Arthur’s room, which was filled with books and other nerdy things that Arthur hadn’t let Eames see that he enjoyed.

If Eames thought it was stupid, he didn’t say anything, and Arthur was very appreciative of that.

They were silent for a long time, because though they were young, they both understood that they would probably never see each other after Eames left, and that hit them harder than both of their little hearts could begin to bare. Eventually though, the silence grew tiring because at the end of the day, they were the best of mates, and they needed to talk, or rather, Eames needed to ramble while Arthur stared blankly up at the ceiling, a million thoughts running through his mind.

“I wish I didn’t have to go, you know? Because I don’t want to leave you behind,” He whispered, and Arthur nodded against his shoulder. They were laying down on Arthur’s bed, just lying next to each other, watching the ceiling like it were the clouds outside. It was something they normally did, now, because it was quiet in Arthur’s room and it was easier to think, and to ignore what was going to happen, soon.

Plus, both of them were too comfortable too move.

Arthur had found it in himself to smile, he had always been positive, even for his young age, he never wanted to feel sad, and he didn’t want Eames to feel sad, either.

“I got you something,” Eames had said, and Arthur turned to look at him, curiously.

“Why?”

Eames had shrugged, smiling at him with a smile that was tiny, and very un-Eames-like, but it was still the best thing ever. “Because I’m not going to be here for your seventh birthday, and I wanted to get you something.”

Arthur had bitten his lip, and nodded. “S’okay, you didn’t have to get me something.”

Eames grinned then, though, brilliantly and Arthur couldn’t help but smile too. “I wanted too. You’ll really like it.”

Arthur furrowed his brow. “Is it a se…seth..sethsescope!?” Arthur had seen something on TV about a doctor using that to make sure that people’s hearts were still thumping with love and happiness, and Arthur had wanted to have one, so he could make sure that everyone was being loved and were happy.

Because that’s what everyone deserved.

“No, silly! Just.. just open it.” He had said and put the gift in Arthur’s hands.

Arthur had taken his time opening it, even though he just wanted to rip it open and see what was inside. He didn’t want to hurt Eames’ wrapping paper, so he carefully tore it open, and once he saw what was inside, he couldn’t stop the squeal of delight that escape his lips.

“It’s…G.I. JOE!” Arthur had said, excitedly, because it was his favorite action hero, and he wanted to be just like him, with a sethsescope or whatever they were called (he wasn’t sure, but he knew it started with ‘seth’) and save the world.
Eames nodded, and then wrapped an arm around Arthur’s slender shoulders. “That’s okay, right?”

Arthur grinned. “It’s beautiful,” Arthur leaned over and pressed his nose against Eames’ cheek, giving it an eskimo kiss because he had seen children do that all of the time.

Eames grinned, and reclined back, and they sat there and played with his G.I. Joe, and Eames’ too, because he had brought it along with him. His arm didn’t drop from his shoulders until it was time to go to sleep.

And for the first time since Arthur had found out that Eames was leaving, he had fallen asleep smiling, his Pikachu pillow and G.I. Joe action figure tucked carefully on either side of him.

*

The picture was given to Arthur on Eames’ last day, but was taken on Eames’ second to last day. They were at the beach, playing in the sand, because their mothers decided to treat them to something fun and exciting. They could spot the bond, it was obvious it was something special, and they hated having to break it up. But Arthur and Eames, not thinking about the future, only thinking about now, were having the time of their life, splashing, kicking and throwing sand and water at one another. They were pushing and pulling and playing and doing everything that little kids do at the beach.

It’s close to nighttime now, and they had been here for the better half of the day. Arthur looked over at Eames, and then grinned.

“D’you think that I could swim across the ocean and meet you in Britain? Or would that be against your guys’ religion?”

Eames had thrown his head back and laughed, because British wasn’t a religion, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Arthur that so, he shook his head. “I think you could try. I would be very happy to see you.”

Arthur grinned. “I’ll try and visit you everyday then, Honey,”

Eames threw sand at him. “You better, Oats.”

Arthur shoved him in the sand and tried to bury him, because the less he had to think about Eames leaving, the better off and more happy he was. He was young, but there was a lot that was going through his head, and even though he’d probably forget about it all in the morning, he didn’t want to have to feel how it felt to think about it now.

“D’you think we’ll get to see each other again?” Eames asked, and Arthur feels something in his heart clench, and he doesn’t quite understand why.

“I think so.” He said because he really, really did think so. “I think we will, because… we’re best mates…and best mates don’t se..se…go away just because of a few obcatcles.”

“I think you’re right.”

They stopped trying to wrestle each other into the ground, and simply stood next to each other, looking out at the water and then looking at each other before breaking out into a grin, because Eames might’ve been leaving tomorrow, but they still had tonight, and they were going to make it the most fun night ever.

“I’m cold,” Arthur said, shivering, his teeth chattering and Eames looked over at him, before taking his hand, and wrapping his tiny fingers around Arthur’s tinier ones.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Eames had said, but he meant so much more. Arthur realized it now. He had also meant ‘I’ll always keep you safe’, and that meant more to him than anything.

They were so caught up in the moment, that they didn’t even notice they’re moms take a picture of them.

*

The next day, Arthur kissed Eames in the middle of a warehouse, completely too full of bliss to care about the curious and amused looks that were tossed their way, because Eames was his Eames’ from childhood, and it was as much exhilarating as it was satisfying.

It had started like this:

Arthur had walked into the warehouse, a little too happy for it to be considered normal, but the picture had brought back memories that he had long since forgotten about, and he was just happy to have finally figured out what the hell was going on. He was going to confront Eames about it, but he was talking to Cobb, and he thought that would probably be rude, so, he went back to his desk, and almost missed it.
But then his eyes dart to the papers that he forgot to tidy up last night and file away in his desk, and there it is.

A red die, like the same exact one that was in his pocket, like the one that he hadn’t let go of since Eames had given him it when they were kids.

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He never expected Eames to remember, but apparently he did, and he was so fucking blissful that he could scream and shout, and he wanted to go over there so bad and do something wreck-less and stupid, and possibly even a little romantic, too.

He picked it up, and felt it’s familiar weight, and then rolled it across his desk, just to be sure.

It landed on four.

He rolls it again.

Arthur doesn’t care, in that moment, he doesn’t care that Eames is over there, having a (important) conversation with Cobb, he doesn’t care that everyone watches him, besides Eames and Cobb as he crosses the warehouse in twenty strides exact and pushes Eames against the nearest wall and kisses him.

Eames makes a surprised noise in his throat, like he wasn’t expecting Arthur to do that, and Arthur wasn’t expecting it either. And then, he was kissing Arthur back, his hands resting on his slender hips and pulling him in, in, in until their hips couldn’t possibly get any closer. Its messy and it’s hot, wet and sticky, and every other synonym for the world ‘wonderful’, ‘glorious’ and absolutely fucking hot.

They pull away, their foreheads pressed together, and Eames chuckles, brushing some stray strands from Arthur’s face because he had forgotten to gel back his hair. “What was this about, hm?”

Arthur then blushes, because he realizes that it probably wasn’t the best idea to go across the warehouse and kiss his coworker (and childhood best friend) because of a red die, but he also realizes that Eames had probably been aiming at this all along.

“Honey,” He says simply, and Eames’ eyes light up with recognition and realization, and he pulls Arthur closer, so close that they can taste each other’s breath.

It should’ve been disgusting, it really, really should have, but it was honestly anything but.
Eames kisses his nose, and then whispers against his lips as he leans in again: “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“I’ve never forgotten, because that means saying goodbye, and I’ve never been quite ready for that.”

If Eames’ grins so wide, that it literally lights up the room, then no one notices but Arthur, and he’s perfectly okay with that.

He’s finally got his Eames’ back, and nothing else in the world matters but him.

*

It was the last night that they would ever spend together, the last night that they would ever be able to laugh and joke and cry and wrestle and hug and just be with each other. Arthur hadn’t known how significant it was at the time, but it still hurt more than he expected it too.

They were over at Eames’ place, because his mom didn’t want him over Arthur’s, and Arthur understood, because he didn’t want to be at home. He wanted to be here, where Eames was everywhere, because it was Eames’ home, and it would be easier to not forget about him.

They were on Eames’ bed, as had been countless times before, and this time, it was different. It wasn’t sad, or happy, or even angry, it just was, both of them pushing off anything that was threatening to make them realize that they couldn’t just forget about this forever.

Neither of them minded, though, because it was better forgetting and pretending than actually feeling.

Arthur had just woken up from a nightmare, a few minutes before, and Eames’ was with him, telling him that it would be okay, and that he wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure that Arthur felt better. Arthur had thought about telling him that he would never be better, because Eames was leaving, but he wasn’t selfish enough to say that, so he simply nodded and huddled against him.

Eames had opened his hand and pressed something into it, something that was small, and heavier than it should’ve been. Arthur opens his hand curiously, and see’s something red and white, cube shaped, flash beneath the beams of the moonlight.

“What’s it?” Arthur asked, groggy from sleep, and he could feel Eames grin.

“It’s a loaded die. Red’s your favorite color, and I figured that it would protect you when I’m not here.”

Arthur furrowed his brow, even though Eames wouldn’t be able to see it through the dark. “Unpossible,”

Eames grinned again, and shook his head. “Impossible,” he corrected, before adding: “It’s not impossible, Arthur. Think of it as your safe key. If you’re having a bad dream, and you can’t feel the die, then you know you’re dreaming.”

“How do you know it’ll work?”

“My mom told me about it, she gave it to me when I was five because I had nightmares then too, and it’s always worked for me.” Eames said.

Arthur looked at him for a moment, before curling the die tightly in his small hands. “You’re the best boy I’ve ever known,”

Eames’ grip tightened around Arthur, a little sad and regret full now. “You’re the best boy I’ve ever known, too, Oats.”

They fall asleep like that, neither of their parents have the heart to break them apart until they wake up on their own.

*

Arthur still had the red die, it wasn’t just a toy to him, it wasn’t just the reason Eames and him were now together, it wasn’t just anything to him.

It was everything and more.

It was his reality, his totem, it was everything that represented everything that ever meant anything to him.

It was Eames, and then it wasn’t, it was Eames and everything more.

It was home.