Chapter Text
“I’m going to regret this in the morning.”
Eames sucks in a breath. Arthur’s at the end of the bed with his back to him as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders.
Eames knew, he knew, this wasn’t going to end the way he wanted it to. He and Arthur have been dancing around each other for years. Working in such perfect symbiosis he’d been terrified to upset the applecart. Dreamshare is a small pool and being on Arthur’s blacklist because of a bad one night stand would seriously impede his ability to work.
But they just pulled off inception and Eames’ eyes are still wide from the number of zeroes in his bank account. Arthur’s gaze had been full of heat when he’d walked up to him at the cab stand, letting his pinky brush over Eames’ knuckles. Finally, finally, Eames had thought they were doing this. But now, with Arthur giving voice to his regrets before they’ve even begun, he feels broken, like something’s been stolen from him before he even got it out of the package.
They’d ridden in silence to the hotel, Arthur’s hand resting high on Eames’ thigh. They hadn’t rushed, or pushed, simply checked in and ridden the elevator up, a private smile on Arthur’s lips while Eames’ heart beat frantically in his chest. Once in the room, Eames had pressed Arthur back against the wall, kissing him deep and slow, not wanting to rush what he thought would be the first step toward the rest of their lives.
In the bedroom, they’d separated and started shedding their clothes, grinning at each other over the California king. Eames could read Arthur’s anticipation by the sweat on his brow and in the ruined line of his slacks. He thought they’d been on the same page. He thought they were starting something.
They’ve never really discussed it, this thing that agitates the air between them, makes them want, but Eames knows it’s the purest thing he’ll ever touch. He’s ready now. To settle down, to be Arthur’s weakness, and have Arthur compromise him in turn. They’ve just accomplished the impossible, and they’re flush with success, and they never have to work again if they don’t want to. The world is their oyster, and still, Arthur doesn’t want him for keeps.
Eames grip is tight on his tie, chest heaving as he stares hard at the sharp curve of Arthur’s shoulder blade. He wants this so bad it hurts, but he knows he’ll never get over not being able to keep Arthur.
Arthur tosses the shirt onto the chair in the corner. “I’ll never get the wrinkles out.”
Eames breathes out, slumping forward against the bed.
His voice, when he speaks is rough. “I’ll buy you another.”
Arthur’s grin is wide and honest, and it melts away all of Eames’ doubts. “I can’t wait.”