Dear Arthur
Title: Dear Arthur
Fandom: Inception (Arthur/Eames)
Rating: R (to be safe)
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Unfortunately
Summary: Eames wants to be with Arthur
Dearest Arthur,
Forgive me; I can’t call so I have to write. Don’t be cross darling; this is the only way in which I can communicate with you for the moment. This job is complicated and taking much longer than originally thought. We are in hiding now, but we should have a flight out of Prague this evening. The point man is useless, but then everyone is compared to you. Are you missing me? I miss you greatly. The memory of your laugh echoes through my mind.
Yours forever,
Eames
Darling Arthur,
How is it after so many years all my thoughts are still consumed by you?
Always,
Eames
Arthur my love,
I’m in another country today, and all I do is think about you. I think about your skin, how white and smooth it is. Would you let me mark you? Allow me to bite your throat as I come inside you. I think about you naked at the most inappropriate moments - I don’t think they will let me back into the old cafe that stands on Andrasy Avenue again. If you were here, you would tell me how crass my behaviour was and I would see the blush that would form on your cheeks.
At night I lay awake thinking of how much I miss being inside you - how tight and warm you are. Will you permit me to enjoy you again? I can almost feel the flex and recoil of your muscles beneath me.
I have loved you for so long I cannot recognise myself without you. Will you let me hear your voice again?
Wanting you always,
Eames
Darling Arthur,
This new job is piss easy. After Fischer I suppose everything is. The mark is a Scottish chap and his wife thinks he’s been getting too close to his secretary. She’s right - he has been playing away from home, but not with the secretary. He’s been shagging the twinkie gardener. It wasn’t actually rocket science to figure that out.
I miss you. There is no one here that can condescend me like you can. You really should come and see me. Do I pressure you too much? Please believe me when I say that is never my intention. I know that you are busy, but spare me a moment of your time. I hate that you have me hanging on a thread - you don’t come to me, yet you do not allow me to visit you. How is that fair? You try my patience.
Eames
Dear sweet Arthur
Why aren’t you here? Do you enjoy making me beg? There are days where I hate you almost as much as I love you. I think about you all the time and I try to picture your face. I miss you. I thought that the yearning would dim over time, yet I still carry it around. The very act of wanting you fills and slowly suffocates me.
I miss you in the morning - laying awake and inhaling every breath you take. I want to rest my head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat again. I adore every fibre that makes you. I imagine I can peel you apart one bit at a time and then piece you together
I dreamt about you last night. Your hair was wavy, you had glasses on and everything was right. You let me touch you and kiss behind your ears. I told you that you smelt of hot chocolate and you laughed. Then it rained, and I couldn’t hold onto you any longer.
Promise me you’ll come back again.
Waiting for you,
Eames
Arthur,
I fucked someone else last night, fucked her hard and came inside her. Are you reading this wondering who she was? What she felt like? I picked her up at a bar - how clichéd. She was tall, dark and soft all over; completely different from you. Do you hate me?
Eames
Please Arthur,
Forgive me.
Eames
My Dear Arthur,
I sit here struggling to put down on paper the joy that your appearance gave me, so thank you for coming. I miss you already. If you were here now I would curl up beside you, feed you sushi and listen to you read the newspaper again. But you left. Why leave in such a hurry? You should have stayed. There’s a little Indian restaurant across the plaza that you would have loved. Afterward, I would have enjoyed standing under the hot shower with you and washing your hair. Believe it or not there’s nothing sexual in my desire to do this, it’s just a matter of cherishing you.
Remember the time you tied me down onto the bed with your belt and fucked me with your tongue until I blacked out? I think we were in Budapest and had just finished the Awal job and you were so hungry that night. I was sore for days after. Even thinking about it makes my skin tighten and tingle. I love it when you show me what a kinky fucker you can be.
But it’s ok. I’m just glad that you came. Stay safe and well for me and I’ll see you soon.
Always Yours
Eames
Darling Arthur,
Where do you stand on handcuffs?
Eames
P.S I have whipped cream.
P.S.S. What would you like for dinner?
The insistent ringing of the doorbell wakes Eames up. He really shouldn’t have fixed a doorbell that played Celine Dion tunes, but the pained expression on Arthur’s face whenever it rang made it worthwhile. His first thought on stumbling through the flat and opening the door was that it was far too early to deal with Dominic Cobb, who’s standing there with a pinched expression on his face.
“Cobbb...,” Eames drawls mockingly putting on his best fuck-off smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Arthur’s still asleep.”
Apparently even that wasn’t going to dislodge the stubborn bastard, who simply pushes past Eames and walks into the living room. Obviously Eames was expected to follow. Asshole.
Cobb stands in the cluttered living room slowly looking around.
“We’re worried about you Eames,” Cobb says softly, “I’m worried about you, and this isn’t healthy.”
Eames raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
The look Cobb gives him is a mixture of grief and something else that causes a slow deep clench in his stomach. He tries to ignore the sharp rage that is beginning to simmer in him.
“You have to stop this and come back to reality now.”
At times like this Eames wishes Arthur had never told Cobb their address. It was hard enough dealing with Cobb during jobs but Eames didn’t see why he had to put up with his craziness at other times as well.
“Listen Cobb, I’m not sure what this is about,” he says rubbing his hand over his face. “But can we talk about this later? It’s bloody freezing and I would like to get back to Arthur.”
Arthur, who is wrapped up in a thick duvet and sound asleep, waits for Eames to come back to bed.
Cobb looks at him sharply. “Where’s your totem?” he asks quietly.
Eames shrugs, “I have it.”
Something in his voice causes Cobb to inhale sharply. “Goddamn it, tell me you still have it.” Striding towards Eames he reaches out to grab him. “Have you gone mad?”
Shooting him a warning glance, Eames smoothly side steps him. “You’re in no position to judge.”
Cobb squeezes his eyes. “Eames, he’s not here anymore,” and his voice breaks as he turns away.
“Who’s not here?”
“Arthur!”
“Of course he is. He’s sleeping.”
Spinning around, Cobb glares at him. “He’s gone Eames, and he’s not coming back!”
The next instant Eames has him pinned against the wall and all the burning rage that has started to shimmer through him, breaks free. He watches with a savage satisfaction as Cobb struggles for breath and turns paler.
“Shut up.” Eames hisses, “Just shut the fuck up.” An internal monologue of Kill him, kill the bastard, resonates in his head.
No. No, he has to stop this. Arthur wouldn’t want him to fight with Cobb. Uncurling his fingers from Cobb’s throat he watches with curious detachment as Cobb slumps to the floor.
He takes a step back and watches Cobb gasp for breath. “You really should go now,” Eames murmurs. “I’ve only got back a few days ago and we want to be alone for a while.”
Cobb looks up at him with watery eyes. “Arthur would want you to -.”
“Don’t tell me what Arthur would want - he’s not here.” Eames snarls.
No. No. What’s he talking about, Arthur is here. He’s in bed waiting for Eames. Eames has to get back to him.
“You can’t keep trying to bring him back; it’s not fair on either of you.” Tears begin to slide down Cobb’s face. “Can’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?”
For buggers sake, Eames really doesn’t have the patience to deal with Cobb now.
“You need to leave now.” Eames says. All the anger has gone, and he’s tired. So so tired. All he wants to do is wake up late, have a lazy breakfast in bed and do the daily crossword with Arthur. Maybe they could go see a movie in the evening. That would be nice. They haven’t done that for a while.
Escorting a very reluctant Cobb out of the flat, he shuts the door and leans against it in relief. Finally.
He rubs the indentation left by the needle in his arm and goes back to the bedroom.
Yes, he needs to get back to Arthur.