You Are Here
Eames lay on his back on the hotel bed, watching his lover at the desk. Arthur had been fervently working on his research for a solid three hours, not an unusual time for him but Eames could tell something was wrong with the other man. He hadn't said a single word to Eames since he had come in and dumped the books he was carrying on the table and Eames wasn't even entirely sure that the grunt he had received from the slight, dark man could be counted as a greeting. Eames reached over to the bedside table to snuff out the cigarette he had smoldering in his fingertips and stood up, stretching. He came around to the other side of the bed to wrap his arms around Arthur from behind.
"Not now, Mr. Eames, I'm very busy," Arthur said, frustrated, as he jerked his head away from Eames as his lover kissed his way down his neck.
Eames raised his eyebrows, but let go of his lover and plopped himself down on the bed. When Arthur pulled out the "Mr. Eames" he was either already pissed or Eames was about to get it. Or both. He sat on the bed for a few moments, watching the back of Arthur's head as he bent back over the research, furiously scratching something out. Eames watched him closely for a few more minutes, then rose and stood behind Arthur again. He placed his hands on his lover's shoulders and Arthur made a small sound of annoyance, but leaned back into the other man as Eames began to massage his muscles gently.
"Tell me what's wrong, Darling."
Arthur sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "Nothing Eames, I'm just frustrated with this case."
"Okay," Eames said, pushing a little harder on Arthur's strained muscles. "How about you tell me the truth now?"
Arthur sighed again and scrubbed his face with his hands. He spun the chair away from the desk, causing him to face Eames. Eames, remembering that Arthur did not like to feel threatened, sat back down on the bed so he was level with the other man. Arthur looked at Eames for a long moment before he spoke.
"I'm tired," he sighed, shutting his eyes again. "Three continents and eights separate countries in the last two months. You don't see anything wrong with that?"
Eames shrugged. "That's the job Darling. You knew that when you took the offer."
"We're getting a little old for this don't you think. I mean I want to settle down sometime soon. See the same people two days in a row."
Eames considered his lover for a beat. "What do you mean exactly Darling?"
Arthur got up from the chair and began to pace. "Before all of this I used to have friends, people I could talk to. I don't even know where those people are anymore, what they're doing with their lives. They probably think I'm dead." He stopped on the far side of the room, and looked imploringly at Eames. "I miss people."
"Well, we can talk about finding a house soon, settling down soon, but we've got to finish this case first. Besides," he looked at Arthur mischievously. "You've got me, you don't need anyone else."
"That's just the problem!" Arthur snapped. "I'm getting sick of seeing you each and every day!"
Eames sat for a moment, blinking at his lover. Arthur let out a breath and fell back into the desk chair, resting his face in his hands.
"I didn't mean…."
Eames stood. "That's alright Darling. I'm going to go out for a bit, leave you be to finish your research. We'll talk about it when I get back."
He grabbed his coat on the way out, materializing a cigarette seemingly out of thin air and beginning to smoke it furiously. Arthur watched from the chair, before resting his face in his hands again. Eames shut down when he was hurt or mad, so there was no use trying to talk to him now. He slammed the door behind him.
Eames returned much later that night, the light from the motel sign casting his shadow over the bed where Arthur was already resting under the covers. Arthur quickly sat up in the bed, and their eyes met across the room as Eames closed the door behind him. He could see Arthur had been crying and offered him a soft smile. He came quickly to the bed and sat beside his lover. Arthur wasn't wearing a shirt and Eames ran his fingers gently down the other man's ribs as Arthur framed his face with his hands and kissed him softly.
"I'm sorry, I love you."
"Hush Darling," Eames said, hugging Arthur to his chest. "I know. It's ok, really soon we can settle down, find a nice little clapboard house in the states and you can have all the friends you need to distract you from how much I irritate you."
Arthur looked at him desperately. "I didn't mean it like that."
Eames laughed softly. "I know Darling, I'm just teasing."
Arthur smiled up at him and leaned his head against Eames' chest again. "And who says we're moving to the states?"
Eames raised an eyebrow. "Well, we don't have to Darling, I just kind of assumed that you wanted to go back home."
"I don't know. We could go anywhere. I know someone who has a loft in London who wants to sell; we could try that for a bit."
Eames smiled down at the darker man. "We certainly could Darling. I have something for you right now though."
Eames pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a small gauze square taped to his chest, just to the left, over his heart. Arthur looked at it questioningly, tracing the edge of it gently with a fingertip. Eames smiled and slowly peeled off the tape. Arthur smiled softly and his eyes filled with tears again as he took in his lover's newest tattoo.
In the newly bare swatch of chest above his heart Eames had tattooed a small blue dot and over that, in a fine curling script, where the words You are Here. Arthur gently covered the new ink with his hand. Eames felt the heat from his lover's palm deep into his core.
"You will always, always have a home here with me." Eames said softly, looking deep into Arthur's eyes.
Arthur kissed Eames deeply and pulled him down into the bed, where they stayed wrapped up in each other until long after the birds began to sing.