Chapter Text
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When Dom called to tell him about the job Arthur was sitting in one of his favorite Parisian cafés enjoying the heavy smell of lilies from the surrounding flower shops and watching white fluffy clouds moving lazily across the blue sky over the Eifel Tower. He was in a good mood so he agreed. Especially that it looked like an interesting case and he was getting kind of bored lately.
Dom should've been the one to hire a new guy. He would simply take whoever Miles said was the best and it would most probably be a girl. But, Dom couldn't do it since he had promised Miles that Fisher would be his last job. It obviously wasn't, but his father in law didn't need to know that.
Arthur made a wrong choice.
He considered a few candidates, tested three and chose the one he decided was the best.
His name was Luc.
He was young, blond and absolutely gorgeous. He had this heavy French accent which was making him even cuter and lips so pink that they put any lipstick to shame. He liked to draw and he was damn good at it. Arthur was genuinely impressed with things his imagination could create and surprised that it could sometimes outsmart his own solid logic. He was also natural in his creation. He didn’t have to think how to make something look believable. His work was pure wonder and every single one of his dreamscapes was an art piece in its own right.
The only problem was that Arthur had trouble stopping himself from shooting the guy in their shared dreams.
The first time passed as an accident. It actually was an accident! Arthur didn’t really mean to do it, but it happened. So he apologized and Luc said it was nothing. Then Arthur somehow did it again and from the look Cobb was giving him when he heard Arthur apologize to the new guy, he was fairly certain that the third time would not pass.
It’s not just that he didn’t like Luc, because he didn’t like a lot of people and he wasn’t shooting at them left and right. He even kind of liked the boy when he hired him. They worked just fine at the beginning. It was almost perfect until Dom brought Eames into the picture.
When the forger finally showed up he looked as ragged as always, or even more. His fringe was falling onto his forehead, reaching the tip of his nose, and he was wearing the ugliest shirt Arthur had ever laid his eyes on. He wouldn’t even dare to name the colour of this atrocity but it was hurting Arthur’s fashion sensitive eyes like a tear gas. He looked tired and disinterested but his lips twisted in an irritatingly charming smile as soon as Arthur acknowledged his presence.
“Good afternoon, Arthur.”
“Hello, Eames. Dom? We don’t need a forger for this job.”
“No, this time we need a thief.”
“There’s plenty of good thieves here in Paris. You didn’t have to drag one out of some dark hole in Mombasa.”
“Oh, thank you, Arthur. I’m pleased to see you too.” Eames was still smiling.
Cobb just snorted. “I don’t have time for this, Arthur. You know he’s the best. And we need someone with military training for the second level.”
Eames put his hands into his pockets and shrugged nonchalantly, but his shoulders seemed tense.
“Military training? Who said I've had military training? And I was not in Mombasa.”
Arthur scoffed. Now when he thought about it the forger was very quick with all sort of weaponry and hand to hand combat, which they truly would need for this job. Still, for Arthur ‘Eames in the army’ was always an unfathomable concept. It would require some discipline and Eames was… a slob.
"I know. How's Singapore at this time of year?
"Lovely.”
“For sucking Saito's cock I would think he would keep you in Tokyo."
Eames’ face was priceless. “I’m sorry, what?”
Cobb didn’t waste any more time for neither of them and promptly asked about the new Architect.
When Luc came back from his lunch break Eames had already shed his jacket, which was almost as ugly as his shirt, but not quite, and rolled up his sleeves. He was sitting slouched in a chair, his legs spread shamelessly wide… Not that Arthur cared how the idiot was sitting. He didn’t. He wasn't even looking. But apparently their new colleague was.
As soon as Luc stepped into the warehouse his green eyes landed dead on Eames’ crotch. Arthur pretended he didn’t notice. He cleared his throat, fixed his tie and began introductions.
“Luc, meet the boss. This is Dominic Cobb, the brain of the operation and the extractor. He will teach you a few more tricks. He will show you what you need to do and how.” The blonde’s eyes were darting back and forth between Dom and the forger.
“Ok, Luc. I've heard from Arthur that you’re good and I trust him with that. The problem is what we need you to do. It’s something more than just a maze. We need you to be ready to add levels during the dream in places where they shouldn’t be. And you’ll have to do it being absolutely sure that the target won’t realise the change…” Cobb was going on and on while the boy clearly did his best to listen, albeit very distractedly for few more minutes. When Dom's hand pointed at the forger Luc's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “… then Eames starts to do his part and you must make sure he doesn’t get caught, give him a way out.”
Luc’s eyes finally landed on the Brit and stayed there. Eames seemed amused by the attention. He smirked over a toothpick in his mouth and winked at their new team mate enjoying how Luc’s pale boyish face slowly acquired a rosy shade.
“Oui… I’ll do m' best…”
“Great.” Cobb clasped his hands. “So, Eames, how do we do this?”
“There’s this thing I tried once, back in Tokyo. We’ve had an architect who could bend the dreamscape of his dream so I could jump in at one place and come out at the other, like through some kind of portal.”
“Who was that?” Arthur was for some reason suddenly quite eager to replace the Frenchman if it was necessary… or at least possible.
“That’s irrelevant, love. He’s dead.” Arthur ignored the irritating pet name, like he always did, but Luc’s eyes snapped to him instantly, the question clear in their green depths. Arthur suppressed his urge to grin.
“So, how did he do that? How is it possible to do that and not make the subconscious aware something’s wrong?”
“That’s a good question, Arthur. We'll have to ask Yusuf. He was the one providing somancine. The mix we used makes the target’s mind less sharp and more open. Not LSD level, though definitely less realistic. But, it also makes the mark completely unpredictable, so way much more work for you, darling.” That smirk was in place, together with the raised eyebrow. It was making Arthur sick. He wanted to punch the idiot and leave but he had work to do.
"You're worried about me overworking myself, Mr. Eames? Cute."
"Only about what's best for the team. I wouldn't even dream about you noticing though. Now, what we will have to plan is all possible scenarios for how things may develop."
Arthur snorted. "We can't predict all possible scenarios!"
This time the smile Eames directed at Arthur seemed a little less patient and rather strained.
"We can predict certain patterns to prepare our ways out. It's what we always do but this time we will have to consider also possibilities that are very unlikely. It will take more time and will require some imagination, but I dare say we managed to do harder things."
"Yeah? Like what?" Now Arthur was the one smirking. He wanted to prolong their banter but the smile on Eames’ lips was now so strained it looked creepy.
"Like getting used to your charming personality."
What pissed Arthur the most about Eames was that the bastard was always able to provoke him. No one else could make the point man act so unprofessionally! And now Cobb was giving him those irritated looks, like Arthur was wasting their time.
They started planning right away. Yusuf was in Zürich so they needed to wait for him a couple of days. Most of that time Eames and Luc spend training and doing the passages under Cobb’s watchful eye and guidance, leaving Arthur to give them kicks. Arthur tried to busy himself with gathering information on their mark, but something was constantly bothering him, like a torn in his side.
Having Eames under somnacine induced sleep was something Arthur always secretly liked. Only then he was able to watch their forger without worry of being caught. Unfortunately this time he couldn’t enjoy it at all. He still watched Eames, staring like hypnotized at his face. The thief looked impossibly good when he was asleep. His full lips, just slightly parted were driving Arthur crazy, but surprisingly it was Eames’ neck that always made the point man’s mouth water, because he knew how good it smelled and it made him wonder how it would taste.
But this time when they used PASIV Luc was putting his lounger right beside Eames’ chair; his arm with the needle stretched out, almost touching the forger’s hand. It was killing Arthur that he didn’t know what was happening in their dreams, but after waking up there was always a lot of laughs, excited conversations and shoulder patting. Then after few days Eames woke up chuckling and when he stood from his armchair he ruffled the blond mane of their new architect with a fond smile on his full lips. Arthur couldn’t take it anymore.
He wanted to be there too, so he went under and seeing how in synch Eames was with Luc, he kind of… shot him. Startled by his own unforgivable reaction he stopped joining their dreams until Cobb needed to show him the layout from the inside and he had no choice but start to go under.
That’s when he did it again. It wasn’t even so much to cause Luc a massive headache, but to see Eames’ reaction. To no one’s surprise after waking up the bastard offered the Frenchman some painkillers and took him out for a drink.
After that it was getting worse with every passing day. Luc had no sense of personal space, often stepping behind seating Eames and putting his hands on the thief’s muscled shoulders. Sometimes he just kept them there, other times he gave Eames a massage, making him growl in contentment.
“Damn it, brat, stop it or I’ll fall asleep again.”
He called him ‘lad’ most of times, but sometimes he called him a brat and that somehow held even more fondness and it was making Arthur sick. Luc was like a leech, sticking to Eames' side every time he had a chance. After just few days he already knew how Eames’ muscled shoulders felt to touch while Arthur after few years still had no idea. He was pestering the older man to go to the movies, to the zoo, or to some 'lovely' café. Eames always refused but the leech was so whiny and persistent that sometimes after a heavy sigh the forger let the blond drag him wherever he pleased. Arthur wanted to know how he did that. How could he just grab the forger's arm and pull him out of the warehouse, or touch him so naturally, while Arthur couldn't even meet the thief’s eyes for more than just few seconds?
It made him unable to do his job properly. As a point man Arthur needed to be able to trace down every fact about the mark, every detail that could matter to assure successful extraction. It was important, because the safety of the team during the work was his responsibility. To properly study the data he needed time and peace to freaking concentrate which was not possible at the moment. Yes, he was alone in the warehouse, he had peace and quiet, but just knowing how soon it would end made him completely unable to work.
In the last few weeks he acquired more nervous ticks he knew existed and he had trouble sleeping. Not just dreaming, but sleeping! Every night he tossed and turned for hours cursing himself for being stupid, and trying to figure out what to do, or how to fire their new Architect. Also, he couldn’t eat!
…
The door opened and someone came in. Arthur's guts twisted in a weird mix of hope and dread at the thought that it could be Eames. He looked up and felt his hot insides grow cold.
"Bonjour, Ah’tur!" Luc looked like a cover model wearing designer jeans, expensive shirt and a fancy scarf. They must've look unbelievably stupid together, him and Eames, with the forger always dressed in fashion history's greatest mistakes. Luc had this aura of effortless elegance around him all the time, no matter if he was in a tux or a pair of well-worn jeans and a t-shirt.
Luc walked up to his desk and turned on the computer. He didn’t make any traditional 3D models they used so far. Since they were going beyond three dimensions the design could only be done adapting the right computer software to their needs. Still, Luc liked to draw every piece first on paper. That's why he always had a folder of those under his arm.
The point man watched the blond manoeuvre around the stack of cables and silently hoped he would trip. No sooner than the thought crossed his mind he heard a loud thump and the architect fell face forward to the floor dropping the folder at Arthur’s feet, revealing its content.
Stubble covered face peeked at the point man from every page. It was amazing how detailed and accurate were those images. The crinkles around the smiling eyes, the teasing eyebrows, those damn lips...
"Merde! .... Um... pardon... sorry..."
The younger man hastily got up and approached Arthur, retrieving the drawings from his shaking hands. The point man was stunned. On some of those pictures Eames was even decently dressed, on some he was wearing only jeans or a towel around his hips. But there were at least two or three where he was completely naked.
For some time now Arthur couldn't help but wonder if those two fucked. The question soon became an obsession in the point man's head and it was distracting him from work and sleep to the point where he couldn’t stand it anymore. It was clear that Luc was crazy about the thief but Eames seemed to treat the younger man like some spoiled child. Of course it could've been his way to flirt, but it was still hard to say.
Now, judging from those drawings, Arthur was pretty sure that the forger nailed the blond, maybe even from the day one. His vision blurred. He needed some fresh air.
Sitting on a bench outside by the door he closed his eyes enjoying the morning sun and with elbows on his knees he covered his face with his hands.
"Hello, darling. Are you alright?" Shit. That was the last thing Arthur needed right now.
Eames kneeled down in front of him and tried to pry his hands away.
"Leave me alone, Eames."
"Arthur, come on..."
"Don't touch me!"
The forger's hands rose in a placating gesture, not touching Arthur anymore.
"I'm sorry. Are you alright? You look pale."
"It’s none of your business, Mr Eames. Go and pester your boyfriend. I'm not in a mood for your shit."
Eames snorted, furrowing his expressive eyebrows in clear confusion.
"Boyfriend? I must say I’m baffled… I don't have a boyfriend so I may as well still pester you, right?"
"Wrong!" Arthur's head finally snapped up and a sudden lump in his throat stopped him from yelling anything more.
Eames was dressed in tight jeans, white t-shirt and a leather jacket. He smelled faintly of motor oil and wind. Heat was practically radiating from his body making Arthur's cheeks grow warmer, and his pants tighter.
"You came here on a bike?"
"It's Thursday, darling. Time to meet the mark. I need to blend in. Don't change the subject. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Why can't you just leave me alone?"
Eames' head dropped in resignation. His next words hit Arthur like a punch with their serious and resigned tone.
"That's truly the only thing you will ever want from me, isn't it?" The forger shook his head and stood up. Arthur pretended that he wasn't staring at his jeans clad thighs and crotch. Eames was wearing leather boots.... looked good on him.
"Yea, go and check on Luc. He almost killed himself tripping over the cables. You can kiss it better."
Eames was half way to the door but stopped and turned back to Arthur hearing his comment. He hesitated for a moment, fiddling with a black, shiny helmet in his hands. Finally he sat on the bench beside the point man, his knee brushing Arthur's. He always spread his legs wide when he was sitting, as if to rub it in Arthur's face that his junk was huge and needed a lot of space. Stupid fucker.
"So the brat did something to piss you off? What? He spilt coffee on your jacket when he tripped?"
"I would fucking shoot him if he did that."
"Ah... you already did, twice, if I remember correctly. But as they say, third time is a charm. So, you don't like the boy. Why did you hire him then, if he pisses you off?"
"You piss me off, and I work with you."
“Not by choice, I’m sure.”
They stayed silent for a moment. Arthur could practically hear all those cogs in the Brit's head moving, thinking, analysing, elucidating his younger friend's every word, taking it apart and drawing conclusions. He was disturbingly skilled at that.
"I don't get you, Arthur. No matter how hard I try."
"Yeah, some forger you are, Eames."
"Hey, I am a marvelous forger, darling. Don't forget how we've met. You couldn't even find me in my own dream."
"Because your psyche is fucked up." Arthur and Cobb had met Eames on the job. The man was their mark, but they couldn't even find him in the dream because he looked like fifteen different people in a span of one hour. Arthur didn't get it. Why would a guy with Eames' looks ever want to look like someone else...?
"It is not. I'm just... I'm not defined by the way I look."
"Yes, you believe that, don't you? That certainly shows in a way you dress." That startled a laugh out of the thief.
"Now, darling, be nice. What's wrong with the way I dress?"
Arthur looked up. "Do you really want me to start on that? These atrocities you wear should be illegal."
Eames looked down at his jeans and nodded. "True, but it's because I'm in a disguise at the moment."
"Your disguise isn't actually half bad."
"Ok, now you're just being mean." Arthur couldn't help but forget what was troubling him and laughed too.
"I'm serious. Now, your usual shirts on the other hand... They would never look good on anyone, and I mean anyone at all."
"So? They suit me. I'm not a prince charming. But there's more to people than just their looks, darling. Why can't you look past that?"
Arthur shook his head. He wouldn't even try to explain how Eames' looks was sometimes the only thing he could think about all day, how he wanted to touch Eames' stubble, lick his ear or rip those ugly clothes off his body. If it was so easy to look past all that, Arthur surely fucking would.
"Eames?" The architect showed up in the warehouse door, his bright green eyes huge with wonder, hungrily taking in the forger's outfit.
"Yes, lad?" His tone was mocking but it wasn't the same as when he teased Arthur. It was... somehow different.
"You look sexy."
"Watch it, brat. What did I tell you?"
"I'm no' a kid, Eames."
“Yes, you are."
"I’m twenty!"
“Are you really? “ Eames' eyebrows rose in amusement and he seemed to be making huge effort to not burst out laughing.
“...Almost…”
"Almost nineteen. You're eighteen. When I was your age you weren't even born yet. I could as well be your father."
“You’h not m’mum’s type. 'sides, I wouldn't mind calling you 'Daddy'...”
Luc stepped closer, brushing his blond fringe from his eyes with sharp gesture, making Eames snort in amusement. The boy's cheeks were already pink either from anger or agitation, his red lips trembling. He really was a gorgeous young man.
"I would bend you over my knee and teach you how to treat your elders, but I bet you would enjoy that too."
Stupid brat had a gal to moan softly.
"Oui..." The fucker looked like he was about to cum into his too tight pants.
"I'm no kid, Eames. Need a prove? I will prove tis to you, chère. Jus' gimme a chance.” He leaned down and whispered straight into the forger’s ear, but still loud enough for Arthur to hear. “I would suck yo' cock until you can’t count dat diffe'honce anymo'."
Oh gods, how Arthur hated his stupid accent.
"I'm not good at math anyway. But if you don't stop spewing this nonsense I shall wash that mouth of yours with a soap, BRAT."
Luc pouted – openly, childishly – it was almost grotesque but somehow still cute on the blonde’s gorgeous face.
“You could use m’mouth fo’ some’ting beta’, cher. A' leas' lemme fix 'tis.” The architect’s hands were already sinking into Eames slick hair, creating an incredibly sexy mess on his head.
"Now tis is beta'." Eames grabbed the younger man's wrist and tried to push him away.
"Don't do this."
"Why non?"
"Because I say so. What's wrong with you two?"
Luc's eyes widened in question. He looked so innocent and naive. "Tu?"
"Yes. Two. Arthur picks on my clothes and you on my hair. I'm a lost cause, boys, so just let me be. Hey, maybe you should date each other. You would look great together and you could pick each other’s clothes and do each other’s hair."
Luc's laugh was as sweet and perfect as the rest of him. It almost made Arthur laugh too, but his chest was in too much pain at the moment. Eames on the other hand was smiling and Arthur couldn't even blame him. How could he blame the forger for anything related to this gorgeous boy? And he was practically throwing himself at Eames. His knee was brushing teasingly over his thigh... Fuck if Arthur were in Eames' place he would have the boy bent over the bathroom sink the moment he appeared in the doorway! But with Eames it was hard to say anything. Arthur couldn't tell if they were fucking or not. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Eames really was into guys at all. The man was a mystery and Arthur would not be surprised if it turned out that the forger had three wives and five kids somewhere in exotic countries.
After that morning Luc was acting weird and he avoided Arthur but when they were finally left alone in the evening he cleared his throat and shyly stepped to the point man's desk.
"Ah’tur, I...." He was blushing profusely, playing with a pencil in his hands. For a moment Arthur was afraid that the kid really took Eames’ words seriously and was there to ask him out.
"I do' know how to say tis... Please.... please don' tell Eames."
"About what?" Arthur hardly even glanced up from the screen of his laptop. He was considering punching him if it really was about a date.
"You kno'... da dh’awings... He would kill me if he found out dat I was dh’awing him, an' naked? Tis would be a painful death."
Arthur did look up this time.
"So he doesn't know? I thought he posed for them willingly."
"Oh, non..." If the kid's face was red before, now it was almost purple. "Non... Eames would neva' let me do tis. I thought you'd kno'... dat I made them up... dat they' wrong... you've seen him like dat, non?"
"You mean naked? Of course I haven't. Why would you think that?"
The architect's embarrassment slowly started to morph into something else.
"Well I thought... dat you tu had a past... non?"
"No."
It was like some dam broke in Luc and he started to laugh. "Oh mon Dieu... and I thought.... merde, I thought I was in yo' way... so you an' 'im are non..."
Damn brat was still laughing, and he seemed so genuinely happy that Arthur was seriously close to shooting him for real. Luckily Cobb entered the warehouse just in time to distract the thought out of his head.
At least now he knew that the two weren't fucking. It was good enough to lift his spirits.
But only until the next morning.
Since their conversation Luc stopped being even remotely subtle with his interest in Eames. The moment the forger entered their hideout the blond was at his side. First he surprised the Brit with a kiss on his cheek, which Eames seemed to hardly even notice but it still doomed the rest of the day for poor Arthur. Of course Eames was the one to take the blow for that. The point man was in even more bitchy mood than usually and since he had to vent on someone it was not hard to predict who would be the lucky one.
Especially that Eames seemed to mock him with his tempting appearance. He was adorably tired after his nights under cover and his moves were kind of sluggish. It made you want to take advantage, to pull him into his arms, hug him and cuddle. Luc once again messed up his hair, obviously trying to provoke the older man to some playful reaction. (The only answer he got was a tired sigh.) Arthur's hands itched to touch, to brush Eames' too long fringe off his face, to sink his own fingers in those locks and to finally know how they feel under his fingers.
Everything pissed him off. As per usual he negated Eames' every word and loaded him with tons of notes to read, but this time it was just not enough to ease his frustration. So, when the brat started to cheer the thief up, Arthur couldn't take it anymore and 'accidentally' dropped a cup of coffee on Eames' pants. It almost made him smile but then Luc dragged the older man to the bathroom to help him wash it up and Arthur seriously considered shooting himself this time.
The trousers turned out to be unsalvageable and the forger, despite all his protests, once again had to live through the day in his 'undercover' jeans. Since his ugly shirt got some coffee too and ended up in a trash can (thank God for small victories) above the waist Eames was left covered in just a thin white tank top and his tattoos. Tight shirt clung to his six pack lovingly accenting every curve and showing his impressively developed trapezius muscles. It was a bit scary how much raw strength those ugly, oversized jackets could hide.
Arthur was beyond pissed, tired, and painfully hard.
Eames was patient. He seemed to either not notice or simply ignore both Arthur's prissy attitude and Luc's restless attempts to seduce him.
Cobb wasn't as understanding.
"What the hell are you doing, Arthur?" He mercifully waited for others to leave before he addressed the issue.
"What do you mean, Dom?" It was worth trying, but Cobb's raised eyebrows and a pointy look were enough for Arthur to know that playing dumb was not an option.
But he really didn't know what to say.
"Really, I... didn't mean to destroy his unique shirt. It was an accident."
"Arthur... obviously your relationship with Eames is none of my business, but if it affects work, you make it my business. It affects my business. I need Eames for this job."
"I know."
"I need you both..."
"I know. It's fine. I don't have any problem with working with him. Honest."
Dom was looking at Arthur the same way he looked at Philippa when she claimed that the cake on her face was actually only soap.
"Arthur, could you at least tell me one thing?"
The point man knew for sure that it was going to be something he'd rather die than talk about. Especially with Cobb. But even with dread clenching his throat he asked anyway.
"What?"
"Are you.... by any means jealous?"
If it was possible to swallow your own throat Arthur was sure it would feel like this. He was sputtering for a good minute before he managed to get any words out.
"Jealous? I am not jealous! Why would I be jealous? I do NOT like Eames."
"Eames? I didn't mean Eames. I thought you wanted Luc. Isn't he just your type? You always say you like those skinny blonds and he certainly knows how to dress. At first I thought that's why you hired him... did you?"
"NO! How could you even think that?"
"So you don't want in his pants?"
"No."
"Ok... that's good. Good. Because he likes Eames and... I don't know. I thought you're pissed at Eames because the kid wants him so bad."
Arthur wanted to laugh or at least roll his eyes. He wanted to snort and say he didn't give a fuck. But he couldn't do anything.
"So you're fine with them hitting it off?" Cobb insisted. He wanted to hear it. And Arthur really wanted to answer ‘yes’ and move on with his life. But if he opened his mouth there was a chance he wouldn't recognize his own voice. He would probably sob or say something he would regret. So he stayed silent.
"Arthur?"
"He's almost twenty years older."
"So what? The kid's crazy about him. You should be glad. If he's busy with the kid he'll stop paying so much attention to you. And maybe you'll stop making things so difficult for him."
"I do not! He said that?"
"He may tease you but he would never say one bad word about you and you know it. Alright. I'm going home. I'm really glad it's not about Luc. Really. That would be... that would suck, big time. 'Cause I'm really rooting for the kid and Eames is so... oblivious sometimes."
"He's not oblivious, Dom. He knows more about other people's feelings then the people themselves."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe the kid’s not his type, but… oh, well…"
Arthur knew he was right. Eames was irritating and silly most of times but Arthur would never really deny that the man was a brilliant judge of characters. He was sure that the forger was more than aware of Luc’s feelings and maybe even knew about Arthur’s shameful attraction. If he was ignoring the blond’s advances it meant that they were not welcomed. And if he didn’t want a guy as gorgeous as Luc, then he probably wasn’t really interested in men at all. Arthur always suspected that Eames’ teasing was just to piss him off.
After that conversation Arthur doubled his efforts to be good and ignore both Eames and Luc, but apparently Luc tripled his efforts in pestering the forger so it was still not enough.
TBC