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[neededforger]

Eames could have gone back to Mombasa, he knew he could have, and he could have gone right back to what he'd been doing when Cobb came to find him. But he'd decided not to, after all, it had been a while since he'd been stateside, and he didn't have anyone breathing down his neck (yet) and it had also been a while since he'd gone to visit his mum, so he figured he'd stick around for a while, do some sightseeing.

The first thing to do, after debarking, and being careful not to pay attention to any of his compatriots, at least not actively, and never with more than the faint, gentle recognition of people who'd just spent more time in a plane together than most people spent together at work in a day. He paged through his phone, checking his funds, not at all surprised to find that Saito was a man of his word, and they'd already been paid.

The next thing he did, while waiting for his checked baggage to come around on the carousel, was to check mid-range hotels in the area, looking for one that had a week's vacancy at such short notice, since that was the minimum he was going to need to wait for the world to settle again and start looking for another job. Booking didn't take long either, which he was pleasantly surprised by.

That evening he found himself in the restaurant down the block from the hotel, enjoying a celebratory steak dinner, and collecting details. The way that woman folded her hands, the way that man held his knife and fork, the way the bartender smiled at one of the waitresses. Each of these, and others, were stored away for later perusal, practice, and eventual use. He didn't always have to forge someone in particular, sometimes he just had to be a person other than who he was, background, security and observation and those little details could make or break a character.

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"You trust Cobb." Eames said with a slight shrug, "Which certainly proves that you can." He was choosing to ignore the 'fully' for the moment, since he suspected he hadn't really been meant to hear the statement at all, "I meant what I said, that I've never lied to you, and I don't intend to start. That was the best year of my life, and I've had some good years." There was a faint laugh there, shaking his head, "But if you say that's it, that was our only chance at it, there's no going back and no trying again, if you tell me that, and you mean it..." He shrugged, "Then I'll move on and leave you be."

[littlspecificty]

"I don't --" But then he stopped. The whole thought was that he didn't care about Cobb in the way he had come to care for Eames - it was different. Maybe that was why he was able to trust Dom more than Eames... Maybe. Arthur didn't even know anymore.

He leaned his head against the wall, wishing he had just kept his mouth shut now.

He had never even considered giving it another try with Eames. When he had said his goodbye he had prepared himself for that being it. That there was no going back. No second chance.

Now, at the possibility of it being there... Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to take it. And, somewhere in the very back of his mind, he wasn't sure he even deserved it. Wasn't sure he wouldn't waste it. If he couldn't trust Eames, no matter what Eames said or did, Arthur just couldn't trust him on his end, what kind of relationship would that be? Not much of one if their previous attempt had proven anything.

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His brow arched slightly at the aborted statement followed by deep silence. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything just yet, not wanting to break whatever tenuous thread seemed to be making Arthur actually consider it. The movement was also an attempt to keep a handle on the flutter of hope that was blossoming in his chest, though that was harder to quash than his voice was, really.

He waited, holding as still as he could, barely even daring to breathe lest it disrupt Arthur's train of thought.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur let out a heavy breath, just curling into himself more as it became more clear in his mind why he had never considered trying a second time. With anyone.

Why the hell didn't the power just come back on already?

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

Eames sat back then, nodding once, taking the continued silence as an answer, though not the one he'd been hoping for it was, sadly, the one he'd been expecting, "Alright. Once we're out of here you won't hear from me again."

He wasn't sure, really, why it felt like he couldn't breathe. It had been a good year, the best year, and it had ended too soon, but it had ended, and he should have known better than to try and get it back. Time was slippery like that, couldn't go back once it had passed.

[littlspecificty]

Upon hearing that, and it wasn't until he heard it from Eames' lips, Arthur realized that what he had been wanting to hear, wasn't what he had wanted at all. The thought of not hearing from Eames again - after seeing him again and remembering that year together - he realized, with a violent twist in his chest, goddammit, that's not what he wanted. He cursed the universe's cosmic irony once again. With every fucking cuss he could think of (and even then he didn't think it was enough).

He could feel a lump in his throat. He hadn't even really wanted to leave the first time. He just didn't want to be the one left. Again. He had been so sure, or at least convinced himself so thoroughly that Eames would leave him first... God, he was such shit when it came to relationships if this was one of his "better" ones.

"I don't want that." He doesn't even realize he's said it until he recognizes the voice, just barely; it sounded strained, almost pained. That wasn't too far off if he allowed himself to dwell on what he was feeling inside. But he honestly didn't like to do that.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

Eames glanced sideways at the other man then, fighting back the fresh, even more sudden bloom of hope in his chest, stealing his breath again and for an entirely different reason. He studied Arthur intently, making sure that he'd actually said anything and it wasn't just his own wishful thinking.

He took a deep breath then, trying to steady himself, realizing that he'd had the metaphorical rug yanked out from under him twice now, and both times right when he thought he'd gotten his footing again, "Alright." There was another almost-tense pause, "What do you want, Arthur?" Eames realized, and perhaps belatedly, that while he could read Arthur like a book at times, the rest of the time the man was a total mystery to him, a blank page as it were, and he wasn't going to guess anymore, since that was apparently what had started the whole calamity in the first place.

[littlspecificty]

The lump still in his throat, Arthur could feel his heart beat pick up a little. Swallowing hard, he tried to get the right words in order. Tried to think of what he wanted... But... "I don't really know but I know I don't want that."

Swallowing again, "What do you want? You really want to... be with me again? Even after I left you?" Arthur sounded so stupid for saying it out loud but it was what was going through his head and just wouldn't stop until it got an answer.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

"Of course." There was no hesitation in the reply, "Especially now that I know why you did." He didn't have quite the whole story, but he had a good deal more of it now than he'd had when it happened, and even if he hadn't known, he still would have forgiven and tried again.

There was a gentle shrug then, still studying Arthur closely, just in case he was going to wake up from this any minute, "I'd quite like to try again, if you're willing. If not, well, I'd rather have you as a friend than an enemy. Don't think we'd really be much good at being enemies, been too much life between us."

[littlspecificty]

Shaking his head, the ache in his chest still present, still potent, but still not able to look at Eames, "I don't think I could just be a friend to you... And," swallowing hard again, "I don't want to be enemies." Arthur had thought he could do that, thought he wanted that. But it appears he had been trying to convince himself of that all these years, too.

In light of all of this, he's surprised he knows he wants anything (or at least thinks he knows).

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

"We'd be terrible at it." Eames agreed, a faint smile finally catching at the corners of his mouth, "Or fantastic, depending on your point of view." After all, they knew each other well enough to jab where it hurt, but there wasn't really much chance that they would if it came right down to it.

It was right about then that the lights finally flickered to life again, and Eames actually smiled, "Ah, there we are, we'll be moving again in no time."

[littlspecificty]

Arthur didn't say anything in return. Didn't even acknowledge the lights coming back on. Just remained where and how he was, on the floor, deep in thought, and feeling utterly defeated (and even numb) for some reason.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

It was only another few moments before the elevator resumed moving again, stopping at the next floor. Eames hesitated a moment before offering Arthur a hand up, "You could come by, once you've changed into some dry clothes." A shrug then, "Could order some dessert from room service, watch some old movie on the pay per view." Another shrug, "Or just talk."

[littlspecificty]

Arthur looked up at the hand offered and then, finally, at Eames. For once, Arthur couldn't feel the urge to try and conceal what he was feeling, his eyes naked and unguarded. He was uncertain, unsure. He didn't want to cut ties with Eames, not again. He didn't want a platonic relationship or one filled with animosity. But... he wasn't sure he could go back to the relationship they once had.

He felt like he didn't deserve it. Like Eames should be angry at him, shouldn't want to take him back. In some ways, Arthur vaguely remembered feeling like this as a child - like he should be admonished, not forgiven.

It also might have been a matter of pride. In a lot of ways, Arthur felt defeated in some bizarre way and that going back to Eames would be like "giving in", "giving up" even. It was as ridiculous as it sounded but it was there.

Arthur looked back down, still debating internally and then, when it came, it was more simple than he would have thought. He had kept the sketch. It was so simple. He could have just as easily thrown it away. But he didn't. He kept it. Guess there was more truth in that adage "actions speak louder than words" than Arthur had originally thought.

Also, looking back up at Eames, he'd have to learn to trust him, have some faith in him. Trust that he truly did want Arthur back. That it wasn't some cruel, malicious joke. Eames, from what Arthur remembered, wasn't like that. Had never been like that.

He silently took Eames' hand, his heart skipping a beat, and got to his feet.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

He smiled then, broad and genuine, fingers curling securely around Arthur's as he helped the other man up, resisting the urge to literally sweep him off his feet, that could wait for sometime when this wasn't all shiny and new again, sometime when he was a little more sure of his footing around the other man once more.

The smile though, was something that couldn't be helped even if he wanted to, and at the moment, he didn't. He only let go of Arthur's hand again when the elevator door actually opened, and even then it was almost reluctant.

What he asked, leaving Arthur at his room door was: "You still like crème brulée don't you?" He hadn't been kidding about dessert, apparently.

[littlspecificty]

When Arthur saw the smile, the ache in his chest only seemed to grow. But it became more bittersweet than painful. Like seeing that... he had missed that, hadn't he? As the ache intensified at that realization he knew, yes, he had.

Arthur had not wanted to really let go, either. Guess he had missed his touch more than he had realized, too. God, he really didn't know much about himself, did he?

At the question, though, he blinked and then snorted, even smiling a little. He was surprised that Eames had remembered but then the man always had been good about retaining details (with his job, he had to be). He nodded, still not able to really trust his voice.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

He nodded once, giving Arthur a nudge towards his room, "Get changed then, dry off, I'll have some called up by the time you're finished."

And he would, in fact, likely he'd also check the listings to see if there were any movies that were actually worth watching. He'd always been a fan of the real classics, Bogart and Stewart and their ilk.

He didn't do a dance of joy once he was alone in his own room, but it was a narrow miss, really. He was still grinning, and it was enough to prompt the concierge to ask: "Having a good evening?" when he called down for room service, he replied that he was, in fact, and thanked her for asking.

[littlspecificty]

When Arthur closed his door, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe this was happening. Hadn't he left this room, just hours ago, wanting nothing to do with the man? But... he had kept that sketch. After turning on some lights, he reached down into his pants pocket and gingerly pulled it out. It was a little wet and bent up but still in relatively good condition.

He set it on the nightstand by his bed and started to undress. He wasn't sure where this was going to go exactly but... if Eames really wanted to try again and it genuinely made him as happy as it seemed to then Arthur was willing to try, too. Because, when faced with the opposite possibility, he had not wanted that. At all. Not as much as he had once thought. So, if he wanted to avoid that, then he'd have to take a chance and really learn to trust Eames.

He ended up taking a quick shower and drying off, redressing in his other casual clothes and after taking a minute to check his die again, he took a deep breath and left his room. The walk down the hall to Eames room, while only two doors down from his, seemed far too long and he hesitated in knocking on the door. He had to shake himself before finally getting up enough nerve to knock on the door. Now if only he could get his heart rate down.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

Eames had taken the time to tidy a little, not that he'd left much laying around, he never did, mostly for ease of making a quick getaway if he had to.

He'd finally given up finding a worthwhile movie as a lost cause when he heard the knock, not sure whether it would be Arthur or the desserts he answered looking mild and polite, but the smile broke through again when he found Arthur there.

He hadn't realized until that moment that he'd been half-afraid that Arthur would just stay in his room and that would have been the end of it. He stepped aside, "Make yourself at home, haven't found anything worth watching, crème brulèe should be here soon enough. Kitchen was still recovering from the power outage as well."

[littlspecificty]

Arthur was relieved to see the smile but still felt awkwardly shy entering Eames' room. A part of him still couldn't believe this was happening, but by the die in his pants pocket, he knew it was. Maybe the longer he was around Eames, it would sink in more - and feel less he didn't belong here.

He silently sat down on the couch not really knowing what else to do. It was horribly embarrassing but he just couldn't shake it off. Even though they were restarting their relationship it just felt so... new. Like they had never done this before.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

He just sprawled himself on the other side of the couch, looking perfectly at home there, just as he had in the stalled elevator, and the cafe, and basically anywhere he was. It was a gift.

If he were the sort to have awkward moments instead of the sort to cause them, this would have been one of them, instead he just smiled, not quite as brightly as before, but it was genuine all the same, "Since there's nothing on we might as well talk." Though he was at something of a loss for subjects.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur rolled his eyes slightly at the obvious differences between them. He could almost swear they were like the freakin' "odd couple" sometimes. It was almost disgustingly cliche. But then it seemed to fit them.

Arthur allowed himself to lean back into the couch, still feeling a bit out of place here but, when in doubt, being a smart-ass always seemed to work for him. "Cobb told me you were losing more than you were winning in Mombasa. That hasn't seemed to change much..."

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

He laughed softly, shaking his head, "Which was rather the point, can't get counterfits into play if you don't lose them." It was a hobby of his, really, counterfitting chips just to see how far they could spread. It was something he'd done even before he'd gotten into dream-forging. He shook his head then, "Didn't get a chance to watch that set, more's the pity." A one-shouldered shrug then, "Ah well, just have to try again sometime."

It was strange to him how comfortable things were at the moment, and mostly it was strange because it wasn't. It was almost like nothing had changed, even though he knew full well that everything had.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur nodded, knowing that Eames had a tendency to try all sorts of things when bored (some of which had led him to getting swatted at like a bad dog by Arthur when they were together - the other man just didn't know when to stop back then and then had the gaul to look like a kicked puppy when Arthur had given him fair warning multiple times; it had usually led to Arthur apologizing and letting Eames "cuddle" him - a word that Arthur couldn't say and cringed openly when he heard it). It was so strange that Arthur was remembering all of these things now while in the same room with Eames but...

"Well, he's also under the misimpression that you can't spell." Which Arthur knew was also a ruse - Eames was much smarter than he would let on, so he couldn't help but smirk a little at the other man, his look saying along the lines 'really? that's the best you could do?'

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

Eames was affectionate when it came right down to it, and he was never quite sure what to do when Arthur got prickly about it. Of course, half the time he was doing it just to ruffle Arthur's feathers, he'd already made a mental note to do less of that and more of it when it was genuine.

There was another shrug at that statement, his own smile gone crooked, "A lot of people are, no idea where they get such an absurd notion." Well, aside from the fact that he let them think what they like and only rarely corrected people when their assumptions about him were wrong. Granted, if it was something that didn't really matter, a quick note to someone or to himself, sometimes the tenses weren't quite right, but it was because he was fluent in more than just English, and sometimes he got the syntax mixed up if he was in a hurry.