Chapter Text
Arthur felt so many things at the airport, after the fear of being caught had passed along with the faux confidence.
Finishing with Cobb, the betrayal, yes it was awful. But with it came another taste…
A taste of freedom.
Arthur picked his bags up off the cold airport tile and let himself smile a little for the first time in a long time.
He was done. And even if Cobb called him again, Arthur owed him nothing. Nothing at all anymore. Better yet, it was time to finally start a new life. One where the stakes were lower. One where he could be creative again, where he could finally rest and build and be again.
And there was … one other thing.
Arthur let his gaze drift off to where Eames was walking away. They couldn't be seen together here, so soon after the job. But being together for so long so close had made things crystal clear. Eames loved him. And that felt fucking fantastic.
Arthur quietly walked after Eames. He casually stepped up to Eames’ side, listening to Eames give a little inhale as if surprised, as if he didn't know Arthur's footsteps, as if someone else could have gotten this close without a glance.
“Hello stranger,” Eames teased. “I thought we weren't supposed to be seen together for several months.”
Arthur felt calm, unshaken except for the warm spark he always felt around Eames. It made banter easy, how sure he felt that Eames had his back. “Someone had to keep an eye on you.”
Eames grinned, clearly trying not to laugh. They walked past the security checkpoint barely looking at each other. Hard as that was, when all Arthur wanted to see was the sparkle in Eames’ eyes.
“And you volunteered for the job? How surprising. I wasn't sure you could stand me for that long. I must warn you,” Eames locked eyes with Arthur as they pushed open the glass doors out of the airport, to freedom. “I'm quite fascinated by you. Very curious.”
“I noticed,” Arthur said quietly.
“Because I wanted you to,” Eames said, and let the glass doors shut behind them.
Arthur nodded, which Eames must have caught out of the corner of his eye, because he smiled. “I know. Where are you staying?”
Eames gave a quiet little laugh. They both stopped to look at each other, standing on the blonde concrete in their hard business shoes. The sky was so blue it hurt to look at. Golden sunshine hovered in the space between them. And Eames. Eames was beautiful.
“Just the Hyatt. I don't know the area very well.” Shadows hid in the curve of Eames’ smirk. “Not like you do, I imagine.”
“You can come to mine,” Arthur said, brushing aside the familiar longing of knowing his chosen city again. Just for a little while. “You'll enjoy the view.”
“Oh, I'm certain I would,” Eames teased. “But are you sure you wouldn't rather have a place to yourself to escape to if needed? One where you can eat takeout, watch crap telly, and sleep in with no expectations? Not your usual routine, I'm sure, but it helps take the edge off of a long job, I assure you.”
It was gentle and easy. Such a sweet, careful thing. Too easy. Too nervous and self-deprecating. Too unbalanced. No, Arthur knew better than to accept the compromise of comfort, of invulnerability, of early surrender that was so tempting.
Arthur reached his hand out, a dangerous gesture for dangerous men, but Eames let him do it. Let him touch along the vulnerable place of his throat to his chin. Let him lift along the line of his jaw without complaint, without fear. With only curiosity and surprise and painful hope in his beautiful dark eyes.
“Eames,” Arthur said, catching his gaze and not letting it go. “I'm sure. I want you in my space, as long as you want to be there.”
“Oh,” Eames said, so quietly and raw that Arthur could have almost believed he imagined it. “I… would like that, then.”
“Good,” Arthur said, calm and deep and feeling as powerful as a tiger tamer. He pulled his hand away slowly, and smiled at Eames. Fuck, he loved having the energy to really play their games. “Let's find a rental car and get out of here. I'm tired of being in public.”
Eames nodded, his eyes narrowing like he had been given a mission. “Mine's close. Follow me.”
---
The car ride over had been fast. Partially because of Eames’ driving, partially because Southern California was beautiful, and time always moved faster when things were good. Nothing had particularly been out of the ordinary, nothing except for Arthur letting himself wrap a hand around Eames’ shoulder and choosing to roll the window down to feel the wind. Nothing except for the way Eames stole glances at him and his smile sparkled. Nothing except for how much Arthur wanted to rip off every bit of Eames’ clothing. Except for that.
“I’m sure you noticed,” Eames said softly, as he got out of the driver’s seat. “But this doesn’t look like a hotel. What is it?”
“One of my favorite buildings.” Arthur agreed and smiled up at the curving green roofs. Art Nouveau, technically French Chateau-Nouveau, but Californian-made at the turn of the 20th century, and built so large and so grand it broke his heart. Curving sides and almost Victorian spires rising from white brick made it the most striking building on the boulevard, even though it was surrounded by incredible architecture. “I own a room on the top floor. Perfect view of the ocean... I’ve missed it.”
“Well then,” Eames nudged Arthur’s arm with his elbow. “Show me upstairs?”
Arthur turned his gaze to Eames, his wanting smile in the bright sunshine almost made Arthur’s heart ache. Almost. It also made it soar.
“Of course. Grab your bags. We’re almost home.”
---
Arthur had never held hands up these stairs before. The familiar iron railings and dark wood floors were exactly the same as he remembered, but he wasn’t. It was surreal knowing his years of running were over, even more when Eames was by his side, inching closer. He was lucky Eames was here, or he might not have been able to breathe during the elevator ride. Instead, they were both thoroughly distracted from nervous silence by sneaking wanting glances at each other. Eames’ hand was clenched tightly around his, until they escaped the elevator and Arthur had to let go to pull out his keys. Three doors down, on the left.
The old door never wanted to accept his key, but physical habits lasted longer than memories, and he opened it without much trouble. Eames leaned against the wall as Arthur worked the lock, subtly watching for trouble, even here. Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the protective gesture.
As it unlocked, Arthur finally turned the cold brass knob. He pushed open the smooth wood door, coming home for the first time in a very long time.
“It’s even brighter than I remember,” Arthur said, as he took in the view.
Sunlight bounced over the wooden floors of his living room. A vivid blue ocean lit up his windows and waved in the distance. And his leather couches looked softer and more inviting than they ever had before.
“Arthur,” Eames whispered, shutting the door to the outside world behind them. “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said, and turned to face Eames, his perfect loving Eames. He ignored the rest for now. He would have time for that later. Actual time. “I’m glad you’re here, Eames.”
Eames smiled, and for once, looked a little shy. “So am I.”
Arthur carefully stepped closer, placing his hand gently on Eames’ shoulder. He was rewarded with Eames’ eyes following him, with a hand wrapping around his elbow, as if Eames was afraid this would all disappear. Not an unreasonable fear, considering.
“I’d like to kiss you now,” Arthur said softly, leaning so close, but not enough to touch, not yet. Because Eames was worth the truth, was worth the danger, was worth everything. Because Eames knew him, knew all of him, and loved him. Really loved him. Because Eames was his, and he was going to take excellent care of him.
Eames shivered under Arthur’s hand, both an instinct and a gift. Still, he pretended to be undaunted, staring at Arthur with a challenging little smirk. “I’m right here, darling.”
That was all that Arthur needed. He pressed in fast, crashing their lips together in a warm meeting. Eames groaned and pushed back, filling all the empty places between them. Arthur’s fingers laced around the base of Eames’ neck, gently pulling, inviting, calling Eames. They were fireworks together, bursting with light.
“Arthur,” Eames gasped, and he was quickly shedding his black jacket, and fuck, he was beautiful.
“Eames,” Arthur said, trying to sound reassuring. He pressed a hand to Eames’ face and stole another kiss off his breathless lips. Sweet and his, only his. “Come with me.”
“Anywhere, darling, you know that.” Eames laughed and threw his jacket on the floor. “You’re going to hate this mess later.”
“Not this time,” Arthur said, and pulled Eames’ hands towards the bedroom. “Come with me.”
“Gladly.”