A/N:- I needed a hot-shot of smooshy, slightly vague smut and Arthur in jeans. I should be working on my prompts and finishing my House/Wilson epic, but, hey! These two have moved into my head. So it's short, rather vague and a bit unlike anything I've ever come up with before, but I hope you enjoy it!
Title and lyrics and the whole thing inspired by Love the Way You Lie, by Rihanna and Eminem.
Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Love the Way You Lie – Rihanna and Eminem
In a way, they both lied to one another all the time. And, of course, to other people. Eames was a professional liar, when you really thought about it, and Arthur was so up-tight people thought he was a sociopath. Lies, lies, lies.
Eames knew what Arthur was really like. He'd seen facets of Arthur's personality in their professional and private lives, but really, those glimpses were so small you couldn't judge him by them.
The usual intricacies of a person's life were, of course, there in Arthur's. He had two parents and a younger sister who wanted to be a Veterinarian, had had a dog called Sam growing up and had kept all his goldfish from the fair.
Those trivial pieces of insight were, to Eames, boring, surface stuff that anyone could have found out using a bit of Internet savvy-ness and asking Arthur directly – particularly after a few drinks of an alcoholic nature.
Eames liked knowing the little things about him; that he had a ticklish spot on the back of his neck that had far, far more erotic uses as well; the fact that he loved Earl Grey tea, but always drank coffee for the caffeine hit; or that he did own a pair of jeans, ones which framed his arse perfectly. He told Eames that that was why he never wore them; Eames pouted and convinced him to wear them out just once.
That was a great day. He'd found out a lot of things that day, too. Arthur had a huge sweet tooth, especially for what he called 'cotton candy' and Eames called 'candy floss' (cue a long argument about British-isms versus American-isms) and that he hated roller-coasters that went upside down and balloons seemed to elicit a child-like response in the normally highly stoic young man.
And Eames hopes that he found out more secrets; that they'd have time to share more secrets.
Eames liked secrets; he shared all of his with Arthur. Well, almost all of them. Arthur knew he was keeping something back, he wondered what it was frequently when they were just laying lazily in bed, talking about nothing. He'd get a look on his face that told Arthur he was hiding something, but he never pushed; Eames would tell him some time, when he was ready.
Instead he thought about the other things he knew about The Forger. He had a teddy with a knitted t-shirt on that he'd had since he was a kid, hidden away in the drawer (and called Teddy-kins); he could sew and cross-stitch; and he could do a remarkably convincing Australian accent, which didn't even show a little of his British accent. Arthur usually made him do it when they were having sex. There was something incredibly hot about hearing a different voice in your ear when you're banging someone.
That day at the fair had been their first 'date'; sleeping together didn't count as a relationship (according to Eames). And Arthur would never say it out loud, but it was fun. He told Eames it had been painful and that he didn't want a repeat; more lies. He loved it, especially the way they held hands on the ghost train without even realising it.
And he found that Eames had a soft-spot for those giant stuffed toys you win at the fair. The huge blue rabbit which took up most of the seat of the cab they got home could attest to that, and the way Eames found it a chair to sit on in his – their – bedroom made Arthur roll his eyes. But he did have to admit that it was very cute.