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It had been a long haul, obtaining jobs suitable for Cobb to keep him afloat until he could find a way home to his kids. Arthur was pretty sure Cobb had no idea how much work it was keeping Cobb in work. And not knowing if — never mind when — Cobb would make it home made the whole thing that much harder to bear.
So it was great, really, seeing Cobb cross that customs check point. More than great, it was gratifying, and Arthur was sincerely, deeply happy for his old friend. That didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to be within 6 miles of the man for the foreseeable future.
Compounding the whole ordeal was the fact that Arthur hadn’t been able to see Eames much at all for the duration. Part of that was Arthur deliberately keeping Eames at arms’ length from Cobb’s gradual descent into a subconscious mess of memories. Actually, that was the whole of it. But regardless, the upshot was that Arthur was overworked, unappreciated, lonely, and increasingly tightly-wound from his lack of sexual release.
So as he stood at the carousel waiting for his bags and Eames stepped up behind him, Arthur took a moment to absorb the warmth of Eames’s body. He closed his eyes and felt Eames’s breath on his ear as Eames said, “You’re looking a little tense. Whatever you’re planning on doing next, cancel it. I think we should try something new.”
So many knots untied in Arthur’s chest, he thinks a few came loose he didn’t even know were there. He’d have said he felt giddy if Arthur felt such things. Light, he felt light.
“I swear to God, Eames, if you don’t actually have something planned, I’m going to tie you down and make you pay.”
“Mm, tempting. But no, I really do have something planned.”
Arthur took half a step back to press himself flush against Eames, then spotted his bag and moved away. The feel of Eames attempting to maintain contact for a few extra milliseconds was satisfying.
***
The thing was, with Eames “something new” could as likely be something simply a bit odd (fleecing tourists at the local pitch ‘n’ putt based on the tackiness of their shoes, maybe), or something sexual (Arthur recalled several successful and several failed experiments revolving around roleplay), or flat out exciting.
As it turned out, Arthur had to wait a few days to find out. The waiting wasn’t so bad, though, as it took care of two of Arthur’s major lacks while working with Cobb. So it was while Arthur was fucked out and dozy with Eames gasping beside him from the effort to drain all the sass out of Arthur via his dick (it took awhile) that Arthur finally asked about it.
“Not that I don’t like surprises, but.” Arthur was so wrung out that he couldn’t quite muddle through whole sentences without a breather. “What have you planned? Do I need, like. Supplies?”
“Mm. Six different strengths of bungee and a 50 gallon tub of lube.”
Arthur laughed weakly, rolling his face into Eames’s ribs and nudging his arm up so Arthur could use him as a pillow. He wasn’t always a cuddler but the last few days he just felt like being close. It probably wouldn’t last but for the moment Eames seemed to appreciate it so Arthur indulged.
Eames drew his thumb idly up and down Arthur’s arm and said, “Nothing. Just yourself. And whatever clothes you feel comfortable in, knowing you won’t really be seeing anyone in public.”
Arthur perked up, but Eames was finished speaking. “All right, don’t tell me.” Arthur, perhaps due to his loosened state, decided to just let it go. He’d spent so long keeping tabs on every moving part, planning for eventualities and keeping contingency plan on top of contingency plan, that it was actually a relief to just leave the planning to someone else.
***
Two days later the wheels crunched on the gravel driveway under their rental car as Eames pulled up to an impressively large A-frame cabin. Fronted with tessellated triangular windows and ringed by a porch comfortably appointed with upholstered seats and a barbeque, Arthur wasn’t sure he even cared what brought them here: it was a cozy haven a million miles in spirit from the job they’d just left behind.
Still: “All right, details now. What is this place?”
Eames glanced at Arthur as he turned the wheel to pull into a random spot beside the cabin. “We’re here to visit a lovely lady. We’ll fish in the lake, chop wood to help her out, relax, maybe read some trashy novels. She’ll teach us some meals to cook so we don’t starve if we ever decide to eat anything other than takeout. She’s really a spectacular cook.”
Arthur furrowed his brow and started to laugh despite himself. “This? This is what you thought was ‘something new’?”
“Not what you’d hoped?”
“No, no. It’s great. Perfect. I just thought you’d go for something… less legal.”
Eames smiled. “The cabin isn’t what’s new.”
Arthur looked at him quizzically.
“The woman,” Eames continued. “She’s my aunt. On my mum’s side.”
They fell silent. Arthur had wondered, of course, what Eames thought of their little arrangement. They’d fallen into bed together two years previously, had proceeded to a standing arrangement to be together when work brought them in proximity, and had reached a point when they had made real efforts to be in the same place at the same time. Then Cobb had started to come unglued and Arthur’s sense of loyalty pulled him away. They’d never met each other’s family, and had barely discussed their lives prior to meeting one another. Arthur sensed that this was a big move forward, but hesitated to read much into it. Perhaps it was just a convenient holiday point.
“No, you can,” Eames said in that way he had that made Arthur think that Eames was an actual mind reader.
“I can what?”
“You can see this for what it is,” Eames said in a rare show of seriousness. “My parents are dead, my extended family is fairly estranged. Aunt Anne is one of the only people in my family I stay in touch with. There are a few others, but for now.” Eames looked at Arthur expectantly.
And honestly, Arthur hadn’t really thought about it. He’d been looking forward to a hell of a lot of sex, maybe some nice meals, but mostly he had been just so relieved to be free to do as he pleased that he hadn’t looked beyond that. But over the last couple of days he’d realized that Inception job burnout or no, he wasn’t really keen to seek work elsewhere any time soon. He didn’t know what that meant logistically or emotionally, but.
“No. Yeah. I mean yeah, this is great. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Eames’s smile was small but 100% real, not a hint of amusement or cheekiness about it.
“Thanks, Eames.”
Eames let his look linger for a moment longer before sniffing and saying, “Right, well. Better go in or she’ll think we’re having a shag out here. Try not to embarrass me in front of my favourite Aunt, will you, Trouble?”
Arthur shook his head and smiled fondly. Yes, this was indeed something new, but at least he could count on Eames to be a constant. And that was quite as it should be.
**End**