You'll hear voices by starlight
PG
Author :
chibi_lurrel | Artist :
dumbimps Eames didn’t expect Arthur’s safe house to be filled with holiday cheer. He’d, in fact, groused to Arthur about how unfestive hiding out seemed as they’d split up after a poorly handled escape from a messy, but successful, extraction. They’d agreed to meet up after 4 days, and Eames couldn’t wait to touch him.
However. The tiny living room was lined in fairy-lights and a tinsel tree rested on the counter in the kitchen. The bedroom door was shut, the sounds of Sinatra singing Mistletoe & Holly leaking through the wood. Arthur’s voice twined with it, husky, gruff, but in tune. Eames listened for a moment, smiling.
Arthur went rigid as the door creaked, and Eames dropped his bag before moving to run his hands down Arthur’s stiff arms. He sat in front of his laptop, which kept playing Rat Pack carols.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he whispered into Arthur’s ear, enjoying the hint of blush that crept up Arthur’s cheeks.
“I figured we could both use a little holiday cheer; we’re stuck here through January.”
Eames kissed the top of his head. “It is a rather miserable way to spend the holidays.”
Arthur snorted. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t gotten so trigger happy on the Pinjala job.”
Eames pulled away and huffed out a sigh. “Look, I only meant to wing that one guy.”
Arthur smiled up at him. “Sure, but that doesn’t explain the other five. How about this - you wash up and I’ll whip up a Christmas Eve celebration here.”
-
When Eames emerged from the bedroom in a pair of sweatpants, Arthur had stacked fresh sugar cookies on the counter and was stirring a pot of cocoa.
“This is lovely,” Eames said, crowding behind him in the narrow kitchen. “Makes me forget I’ve spent almost all twelve days of Christmas on the run.”
Arthur blinked at him. “The twelve days of Christmas start on Christmas. The twelfth day, Epiphany, is January 6th.”
“You don’t even celebrate this holiday.”
“I do enjoy the music.”
Arthur pressed a warm mug of cocoa at Eames, who took a cautious sip.
“This is spiked within an inch of its life, Arthur.”
Arthur filled his own mug, flipping off the stove. “Peppermint schnapps adds the extra cheer.”
“And eggnog?”
Arthur grimaced. “I don’t like getting all bogged down in traditions.”
-
Midnight found them tangled on the shabby couch, laptop pumping out Noels, Arthur’s face flushed and Eames doing his best to keep from ripping Arthur’s jumper right off. Arthur made him take his time, though, forcing him to unwrap his present with careful fingers.
“I’d sort of imagined our first Christmas together rather differently,” Eames murmured, thumbing Arthur’s clavicle. “Maybe a big dinner at Cobb’s, caroling with the kidlets.”
Arthur laughed. “You have to be at least 3 months clean from murder before he’ll let you near those kids.” He leaned his head back and Eames kissed him. “So you’re probably stuck with this for life.”
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