Originally written/posted: March 2011
Fandom: Inception (2010)
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1500 words
Universe Notes: High School!AU
Notes: Just a sweet small oneshot.
Arthur was fifteen, (exactly two hundred and ten days from being sixteen. Yes, he was counting) and he was still afraid of the dark. He was even more afraid of thunderstorms, and because his parents had relocated to London because of Arthur’s father being in the military, he had to deal with them often.
And his boyfriend, was a local boy, Eames, but he would never get to see Eames, if he didn’t survive this storm, and he knew that he wouldn’t. Probably.
His parents were out of town on their honeymoon (because Arthur’s father was on such a tight schedule with the military, they weren’t able to go on their honeymoon until now) so he was alone in the house. But he was fifteen, so he should’ve been able to handle this, right? He should’ve been able to not be scared.
But he was, he was impossibly scared, because he was pretty sure that rattling on his window wasn’t from a branch, but was from a stranger tapping to come and slowly kill him.
He was scared, irrationally, he knows, but he was scared and he wanted someone to be here with him, preferably Eames because it wasn’t possible to feel unsafe around him. He wasn’t going to call him, though, because even though Eames had told him he could call him whenever, his pride was much too thick in order for him to crumble and give in.
Arthur tried to distract himself, with playing cards (though it didn’t go far, because he was the only person), he tried playing on the old Gameboy that used to entertain him as a child — the batteries had ran out, and you could only play Pokemon Yellow so many times before getting tired of it — and he ha even tried to read his favorite book which was The Great Gatsby, but not even Nick or Daisy could cheer him up.
Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder echoed off of the stucco on the outside of the house, rattling it too it’s core. Arthur jumped, and yelped at the same time, completely off of his bed where he had been siting and landed on the floor in fetal position.
‘Fuck’, Arthur thought, this was much worse than he could have anticipated.
After a few more minutes of complete torture, Arthur had enough of this, he was scared and he wanted his boyfriend here. He didn’t care how dangerous this was, he just needed his Eames here to comfort him and to tell him that it’s going to be alright (even though Arthur knew it would be, the phobia of both the dark and thunder combined just really got his knickers in a twist).
He dialed his number with shaking hands, waiting for him to pick up.
On the second ring, he picks up, and Arthur lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Darling?” He asks because he just knows that it’s Arthur, and this is the one time that he’s glad Eames knows everything about him.
“Can you come over?” He blurts, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. Eames hadn’t known, because Arthur had been to scared too tell him, but he knew that he’d probably know now.
“Darling, not that I don’t appreciate you calling and asking me to come over, because I totally would if it was under other circumstances… It’s nearly twelve in the morning and you know we have class tomorrow…” Eames says, and he does sound regretful, but it’s not enough.
He needs Eames. And he needs him now.
“I know… but… er… there’s a situation at my house…” He says carefully, because he’s not entirely comfortable with letting out his secret, yet.
He can hear Eames run a hand over his face, scrubbing at his skin, and he hears shuffling in the background, knowing that he’s probably pulling on his clothes. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten, Arthur,”
“Eames?” He asks, tentatively, because he’s pretty sure he just saw a lighting bolt.
“Arthur,” He says slowly, probably not sure what exactly Arthur’s questioning.
“Thank you, for doing this.” He says, thoughtfully and then quickly adds: “Don’t die, okay?”
“I would never,” And then he hangs up, Arthur can only hope he can get here fast enough.
Eames gets there in exactly nine minutes and forty-five seconds. Arthur didn’t think there had ever been a time in his life that he had answered the door so fast and then proceeded to drag Eames into his parents flat.
Eames drops a sweet kiss on his lips, obviously sensing how anxious and scared Arthur was. He pulls away, slowly, not wanting to end the kiss just as much as Arthur didn’t want too, and then looks curiously at him. “What’s your situation?” He asks, thoughtfully.
Arthur sits on the couch, dragging Eames over as well, their legs brushing innocently. “I missed you,” Arthur says, lamely, because even though that was sort of true, he didn’t want to come clean just yet. Eames, if and when he found out, would probably abandon Arthur so fast that he wouldn’t even have time to completely explain himself.
Arthur knew he was pathetic, entirely, for Eames and completely on his own too, but he hadn’t wanted his boyfriend to know.
Because though they were both young, and stupid, Arthur had a whole lot to lose by being in this relationship with him, and it was something that was constantly hung over his head by everyone. Except Eames, maybe.
Eames pulls him into his embrace, because Eames just knows, he knows everything when it comes to Arthur, like when he’s sad or lonely, or just needs a new pencil. He knows. He leans into the embrace, playing with Eames’ fingers that were currently resting on Arthur’s thigh.
“I missed you too, pet,” Eames says, and Arthur knows he’s off the hook. “But I can also tell when you’re lying.”
Arthur purses his lips. “I’m not lying.”
“There’s something more,” And damn him for knowing Arthur better than Arthur knew himself. Damn him for knowing when Arthur was lying, and damn him for caring so much as to how Arthur felt.
(Though really he did appreciate it.)
Arthur stays quiet for a long time, going over in his head just how bad the consequences of this can be (pros: Eames will be able to help him, Eames will hold him and kiss him and do everything he needs, he could probably talk his boyfriend into staying the night). If he didn’t tell Eames, well then he’d probably leave in twenty minutes, and that just wouldn’t work for Arthur.
“If I told you something that is greatly important and that if you laugh I’d probably die in embarrassment. Would you laugh?” Arthur rambles, knowing that it’ll stall him more from telling Eames why he was the way he was now.
“Of course not,” Eames says, and kneed’s his fingers through Arthur’s hair, and that’s basically his breaking point.
“I’m afraid,”
“Pardon?”
Arthur bites his lips, a nervous flush covering his cheeks. “I’m afraid of the dark, and of thunderstorms,”
There was silence for a moment, and suddenly he felt Eames’ hand stop, just so his hand could stroke Arthur’s cheek, quickly running to his chin to pull his gaze up to Eames’. “Well, then, I’ll just have to stay and protect you, won’t I?” He asks, a little fondly, and it’s in that moment that Arthur realizes Eames would probably do anything for him.
Arthur would probably do anything for Eames, too.
Arthur bites back a hopeful smile, though the dimples denting his cheeks probably gave it away. “You mean, you won’t leave?” He asks, and he knows he sounds pathetic, and helpless and possibly a little clingy, but he does weird things when he’s scared out of his mind.
Eames nods. “I’ll never leave you, especially not tonight,” And then Arthur kisses him, because what else is there to do when you realize when your boyfriend is the best boyfriend ever?
And Eames never did.
He was there, until Arthur fell asleep, stroking his hair and whispering how everything was okay, and how Eames would never be going anywhere. Arthur felt more safe than he possibly ever had.
He fell asleep smiling.
And when he woke up, Eames was there, with a platter of pancakes and eggs, and he smiles again, and kisses Eames so hard that they almost knock over the food.
When he pulls away, he looks up into Eames’ eyes and whispers: “Let’s skip school today,”
And they did.
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