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"Arthur....." A persistent shake of his shoulder, which Arthur assumed was meant to rouse him but instead annoyed him, was followed by another "Arthur...."
"Darling, it's time to wake up."
Another shoulder shake.
Arthur grunted, pulled away from the relentless nudging, and turned over with his back to the voice, snuggling into the soft sheets and down comforter. "Just 5 more minutes," he murmured hugging the teddy bear on the bed next to him. Cuddling into the large stuffed animal's obscenely soft fur, Arthur sighed and thought about how the bear's fluffy fur was so unlike Eames' course chest hair. And stomach hair.... and that trail that lead down to Arthur's favorite part of his boyfriend. He reached for Eames' waistband, only to have his hand knocked away.
"Darling, as lovely as this scene is -- and while I think it's ace how you enjoy my knob, and trust me I enjoy how you enjoy it -- Cobb and the others were expecting us twenty minutes ago," the voice said with an underlying tone of something in between amusement and fondness. Apparently Arthur had said that out loud.
Cobb. Twenty minutes ago.... These words spurred Arthur into action. He sat bolt upright in bed, unconsciously still clutching the plush toy. Four things happened at once; Arthur was struck with a pounding headache, his stomach lurched dangerously, bits of the previous night flashed through his brain, and he realized he was clinging to a very large, very pink, disgustingly happy looking teddy bear with a huge heart on one of its paws proclaiming undying love in Italian.
He forced himself to focus on the blurry figure leaning on the bed towards him. "Eames." Arthur blinked rapidly trying to clear his fuzzy eyes. Not only was he extremely hung over, but he was late for work and his ass was extraordinarily sore. Also his thighs burned and a spot under his right collarbone ached in a peculiar way.
"Yes, love, very good. Now if you'll kindly let go of the teddy I can help you get washed up."
Arthur dropped the teddy bear. His cheeks betraying slight embarrassment as he allowed Eames to gather him out of bed and steer him towards the bathroom, feeding him Advil along with a Yusuf Special to minimize his hangover. Arthur had never been more grateful for Yusuf as his nausea and headache were reduced to a more tolerable level. Eames ushered him into the bathroom, giving him a moment alone to use the toilet. Arthur was brushing his teeth when Eames strolled back in and turned on the shower, and Arthur knew that the temperature would be just right. As he finished brushing his teeth in a daze, he noticed a bandage over the spot on his upper right pectoral that throbbed with the same strange, achy feeling as before. Arthur didn't have time to comment as he was commandeered into the shower and before he knew it Eames large, warm hands were washing him.
"Let's take this off, yeah?" Eames said as he gently peeled the bandage off Arthur's chest and then, to Arthur's surprise -- he really wasn't thinking straight -- peeled an identical bandage off his own chest. Arthur studied the lines revealed from the bandage removal. It was his name. Arthur. His name written in elegant script. A beautifully drawn red die and poker chip lay blended behind the 'ur' at the end of Arthur's name. The new tattoo sat above Eames' comedy/tragedy masks shining brightly in that new tattoo way.
Arthur smiled, touched by the sentiment, and then froze. He looked down at his own chest. His jaw dropped. There, on his chest just under his collar bone was an identical tattoo. Only it said Eames in the same elegant script, with the die and poker chip blended behind the 'es'.
Arthur heard a chuckle and looked up as Eames whipped water from his eyes after rinsing shampoo from his hair. "I knew you wouldn't remember. But, you insisted. And you are quite the stubborn bull dog, darling."
Arthur was speechless. His brain was literally trying to catch up with the events going on around him. Events happening to him. He was quickly ushered out of the shower, dried off, and guided into the hotel bedroom. He let himself be dressed by Eames, barely aware, as the previous night slammed into him.
~~~~
They had taken a day off to celebrate their third year together. Really together. Not just friends who fucked occasionally, but a real honest-to-god monogamous relationship. They even lived together in scattered homes or apartments across the globe. The whole dreamshare community knew that they were a package deal. If you wanted to work with Eames, you got Arthur too. And vice versa. Besides, who didn't want to work with both of them? They were legends now. It was dangerous, they knew, to have their relationship so public. But, people quickly began to leave them alone after multiple attempts to kill or kidnap one of them ended up with a rather gruesome corpse sent back to its crime lord in a lovely 17th century chest that Eames had stolen from the man's home. God bless Eames and his real-life thieving abilities.
They were currently in Florence for a job and Arthur remembered taking a private jet -- courteously provided via Saito -- to Rome where he had been properly wined and dined by Eames in spots off the beaten path from tourists. Arthur also knew that he had been drunk. Happily drunk, but drunk, as Eames swept him off to a carnival that was passing through. He remembered feeling like a teenager as he drank carnival priced wine in a plastic cup and played games with Eames under the colorful lights. The forger won the tie breaking round of a particularly intense game of shoot-the-meatballs, and with a flourish that was pure Eames, gave Arthur the dazzling pink gigantic teddy bear that he selected as his prize while singing an embarrassingly off-key version of Bella Notte. Arthur had quickly grabbed the bear -- and Eames' collar -- before hastily dragging them away from the embarrassed booth attendant and the giggles of the small crowd they had drawn. Arthur had laughed and laughed while he pulled them toward some unknown destination away from the chaos of the street carnival.
He finally stopped to catch his breath. Looking up he saw the flashing neon sign of a tattoo parlor and was struck by an idea so intense he couldn't ignore it.
"Let's get tattoos," Arthur said, deadly serious -- well as deadly serious as he could be while drunk and holding a flaming pink teddy bear.
Eames choked on his own laugh in what Arthur guessed was surprise. The point man pounded on Eames' back until he could catch his breath. "Darling, that is the worst idea you have ever had," Eames chuckled, slumped over with his hands braced on his knees. "You do realize a tattoo is for life, and the decision to get one should really not be made spur-of-the-moment?" Eames had told Arthur everything there was to know about his own tattoos, stories behind some that where spur-of-the-moment and stories behind others that he regretted. But the earnest expression on Arthur's face abruptly stopped the chuckle as Eames straightened and took in the seriousness of Arthur's gaze.
Arthur stepped towards Eames until he was flush against his chest, the ridiculous teddy bear's fur tickling both their faces. "I'm serious, Eames," he said softly, breath puffing lightly over Eames' lips. "I've been thinking about it for a while actually. I want a tattoo to celebrate us. What we have. I want your name on me. And I want my name on you because I will always be yours. For life and beyond. And I want everyone to know. At least when I have my shirt off." Arthur grinned and realized he was being very un-Arthur-like but decided he didn't give a fuck. He loved this ridiculous man in his ridiculous brightly patterned shirt. And he was drunk. That helped, but didn't make his words less true.
Eames took in the genuine look in Arthur's eyes and kissed him. "Alright. How about working in a die and poker chip?"
Arthur returned Eames' grin with a bright, dimple piercing smile.
Later, Arthur recalled drinking on the plane ride back to their hotel, giving Eames a blow-job in between sips of Dom Pérignon. After returning to their room in Florence, Arthur remembered riding Eames until his thighs gave out after a mind blowing orgasm. He also remembered two more rounds of sex in various positions and two more amazing orgasms. Sometimes Eames' ability to get Arthur off so many times in one night astounded him. Many things about Eames and their sex life astounded him. Eames was someone who Arthur had no qualms about yielding to in the bedroom. In fact, Arthur treasured the fact that he was able to completely let go, let his famed self-control shatter. Eames could dominate him and was unashamed to express his love through means other than words. Eames was the only person in the world who made Arthur feel cherished. Eames stroked inside him like he was a creature to be worshiped and cared for and treated gently until he fell apart at the seams before falling asleep wrapped in the arms of the man he loved.
~~~~
The next thing Arthur knew he was holding a cup of coffee and being ushered into the large suite Dom had secured as their planning space.
"Really, guys?" Dom's voice carried across the room with a hint of exasperation. "You're an hour late and we're in the same fucking hotel."
Arthur could do nothing but blink as Eames made their apologies. Ariadne waggled her eyebrows and asked without discretion, "Have a nice night, gentlemen?"
"It was lovely, Ariadne," Eames answered as he maneuvered Arthur to his own desk. "Ta for asking." A pointed look was given Cobb's way. The man just took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to hide a smile.
"Sounded like it...." Ariadne grumbled, turning back to her work. By chance her hotel room was next door to their own.
Eventually Arthur awoke from his hangover daze and immersed himself in his research. He noticed that he kept getting odd looks from his other teammates any time he interacted with one. Finally, after the third time getting The Look from Ariadne as they went over her maze, Arthur asked with irritation, "Okay. What is it? Do I have something on my face?"
Ariadne's eyes widened, biting her lower lip in something akin to shame at being so easily read but looked more like amusement to Arthur before she asked, "Are you feeling alright today? I know you had a long night, but you seem.... off."
"What do you mean?"
Ari gestured up and down Arthur's body like he had grown another head and two more arms overnight. Warily Arthur looked down at himself. He was first struck by the fact that he had on one black and one brown shoe. His eyes widened in horror. Stalking towards the mirror where Eames was practicing facial expressions, Arthur pushed him out of the way despite Eames' distressed 'oy!' as he tried to maintain his balance. He barely noticed that the entire room was staring at him.
Arthur looked himself over in the mirror then rounded on Eames. "What the FUCK, Eames!"
Looking completely perplexed, Eames held his hands up in surrender. "Umm..." his eyes flickered to his teammates for help, but found none. "Care to let me in on why I'm the object of your wrath, love?"
"Look at me!"
"I am, darling."
"No, look at me," Arthur gestured to his body. "This is how you dressed me? My shoes don't match! And I'm afraid to look at what socks you put me in and do you realize I don't have boxers on? And that stupid fucking teddy bear. And I have your name tattooed on my chest."
Arthur tuned out the gasps of surprise and grumbles of 'too much information' and Ari's blatant 'really?' as she craned her neck to get a look at Arthur's genital area in confirmation that said boxers were actually missing.
Eames swallowed and kept his hands raised. "May I remind you that the tattoos were your-" Eames cut off abruptly at Arthur's pointed look. "Besides, I think you look smashing, love."
"Of course you would," Arthur snorted and turned to look at himself in the mirror once again. He was dressed in a white button-up under a wrinkled grey sweater. One of his sleeves was pushed up to his elbow, the other was at his wrist. And don't get him started on the condition of his cuffs. His shirt tails where hanging out except on one side where it was strangely half tucked in. His tie was appallingly askew and just.... just not right. The collar of his button-up was half in and half out of the sweater's neckline. His dark charcoal slacks were wrinkled and appeared to be the same ones he wore all day yesterday. One shoe was black the other brown. He looked himself in the eyes and realized his hair was very haphazardly slicked back with something that was definitely not his own hair product. The hold was atrocious.
Arthur met Eames' gaze in the mirror a sharp scolding on the tip of his tongue until he saw the forger's face break into a grin and heard the chuckles of the others in the room. Unexpectedly, Arthur burst into laughter, spurring on his teammates further. Yusuf's loud boom of a laugh, Ariadne's giggles, and Dom's chuckles all illuminated the background. He fell into Eames' arms, needing support as he laughed harder than when Eames gave him that stupid bear.
"You're ridiculous," he said looking into Eames' eyes.
"You love me. And that pink treasure of a teddy. I have the pictures to prove it," Eames whispered into his ear, before kissing his way down to Arthur's jaw.
Arthur blushed and couldn't deny it. He did love Eames. He also loved their tattoos and that outrageously bright pink teddy bear with heart shaped stitching on its paw professing undying love in Italian. Arthur didn't care if he was breaking his cardinal rule of professionalism at work, he kissed Eames and it was perfect.
As it turned out Eames had managed to get him into a pair of matching purple and pink batman socks. Imagine that.