*AUG 24, 2012 NOTICE* FFnet took down 25 of my stories because they deemed the content 'inappropriate'. Because of this, any story I post with this notice at the beginning will be censored and incomplete. I will have edited it to make it suitable for FFnet and will still be a 'story', but in my opinion the quality will be decreased. I have either taken out scenes for sexual content or violence. If you would like to read the full story, which I strongly recommend, you can do so on AO3 here: archiveofourown(dot-org)/users/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles.
At least 50% of my stories cannot be reposted on FFnet because they will be removed again and I could get banned. I strongly encourage you to simply bookmark my AO3 page and read all my stories there. You can also follow me on Tumblr for story update news, here: onewhositswiththeturtles(dot-tumblr-dot-com)
Thank you.
Truth
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception or the characters
Warnings: M/M pairing, impaired thinking
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: M
Notes: The much requested, much anticipated bottom!Eames story
Summary: Yusuf has developed a new compound for his favourite dream team – a truth serum that should make collecting information a breeze. Arthur and Eames aren't pleased about being paired up to go down into the dream together, but Cobb and Ariadne are working on a second mark. They tell themselves that they won't have to work together long. Then everything goes wrong.
Arthur tapped his fingers against his glass, fingers slick with condensation as the ice cubes rattled. The bartender walked over and refilled his glass promptly and Arthur took another sip of his scotch. It left a bit of a smoky aftertaste in his mouth and he blamed Eames for it since he was the dreamer. Nonetheless, Arthur continued to sip absent-mindedly to make himself look like he belonged in the bar. At the same time he scanned the busy room carefully, watching for the mark and for Eames.
When he checked his watch he knew that they had another ten minutes left in the dream before they had to be ready to confront the mark. Yusuf had told them that they would be given two minutes in reality – twenty minutes in the dream – before Yusuf injected the chemical into their captured mark. The chemical had already been tested and proven to work, and Arthur was eager to see the effects. Although the truth serum had no effect in reality, it was rumoured to be unbelievable how honest it made people in dreams.
Far up above in reality they were swaying back and forth in beds on a cruise ship, and Arthur could see the slight sway of the liquid in his glass with the waves above. They had tracked down their mark and found out he would be taking this cruise across the Mediterranean, his final destination Alexandria before he would probably disappear behind the protection of the crime ring. Their second mark was flying to the same destination and Cobb and Ariadne were tracking him that way. Arthur and Eames had been sent to deal with the more elusive mark and they were hoping to have this job done by tonight. Then they'd only have one full day on the ship where they had to avoid the mark in case he recognized their faces, and then they could disappear just as easily as the mark planned to.
However, they wouldn't get anything done if Eames was running late. Arthur checked his watch again and swirled the liquid in his glass, sighing. Arthur wasn't exactly happy about working on another job with Eames, but at this point it seemed inevitable that he would have to keep dealing with the Forger. After Inception Cobb had returned to his family for a brief stint and Ariadne had finished college. Arthur and Eames were both restless beings though and had picked up work as soon as it was safe; they did this work for the adventure, not the paycheque.
Arthur had been eager to get as far away from the annoying Brit as he could manage, but Eames always seemed to get into trouble just around the corner from wherever Arthur ended up working. The number of phone calls Arthur received from jails and kidnappers was just atrocious, and it had eventually gotten to the point where Arthur kept a burner phone Eames had the number to so that Arthur's work phone remained clear. He still remembered the first of many distress calls; Hello Arthur. Listen, you're in Portugal at the moment, yes? I was wondering if you'd be a wonderful gent and pop by to bail me out of jail. I'm in Madrid at the moment, long story. I can't talk long; this lovely guard will give you the jail address. Oh and one more favour? Would you wear that purple scarf I love so? You always looked so dashing and—oh, look's like my time is up. Bye for now, darling!
And from then on it had become a particularly bad habit for Arthur to answer phone calls on his burner phone from strange numbers, brace himself for the next odd story and head off to collect Eames. He gave Eames an earful each time he had to pick Eames up, especially on the more serious encounters with kidnappers. Arthur had once yelled, "Listen, you know I'll pick you up anyway so can you at least end up in less life-threatening situations?"
Eames had only given an innocent smile and commented that he should buy Arthur a new tie as his way of saying thanks. Arthur told him not to bother since he would never be caught dead in a piece of fabric Eames picked out for him. Eames got him one anyway, and it was only slightly outlandish; midnight blue with just a few stitches of gold here and there to hint at a night sky of stars. Arthur made sure to never wear it for Eames to see that Arthur thought it was at least moderately acceptable.
Cobb had commented on it once when he started getting back into the business, though he had wisely dropped the subject after Arthur's initial glare. Ariadne was not one to be deterred so easily though and consistently quizzed Arthur on his motivations. Though he noticed – and called her on it frequently – that she never chided Eames on getting into these dangerous situations in the first place.
Over drinks one night, Arthur finally let slip the fact that he didn't think Eames was quite as unbearable as he implied. Ariadne made an excited little noise and insisted on more drinks, Arthur making a cut-off motion to the bartender after Ariadne had turned away. He had her sworn to secrecy though he doubted that meant much since, after that night, Eames mysteriously had a lot fewer life-threatening run-ins and a lot more legitimate job offers for Arthur to join in on.
It had been awkward that night, tucked away with Ariadne in a booth talking about his feelings for Eames. It wasn't like it was Arthur's first time being attracted to someone; he had had relationships in college and flings when he began working. It just felt so odd talking about Eames that way; instead of complaining about his pet names or terrible fashion sense, Arthur was blushing and talking about the private smiles Eames sent him, and the way Eames always turned to Arthur first for an opinion.
Arthur was also taken aback by how relieving the conversation felt. How much of his words got relayed to Eames he would probably never know – probably didn't want to. But it just felt good to voice his thoughts and to have someone tell him he wasn't crazy for developing an affection for the British forger. Ariadne insisted that he was quite charming and with all the attention Eames sent Arthur's way, Arthur would be deemed 'too dense to procreate' if he didn't notice.
Inevitably though, the conversation turned to the topic Arthur really didn't want to discuss: why he hadn't done anything about his interest. Ariadne considered the fact that they weren't together already a tragedy since 'It's clear that he's so into you' and 'I can't imagine anyone more suited to be your partner. Even on jobs you're a perfect pair'. Ariadne turned wide, curious eyes on him and Arthur decided he might as well tell her.
The problem was that being with Eames would be a weakness for him. Having a few buried feelings for someone wouldn't really get you into too much trouble as long as you kept your feelings hidden and no one knew – Arthur knew that even if he couldn't trust Ariadne to keep everything hidden from Eames, she would never breathe a word to another soul. But if Arthur and Eames were together, any of their enemies could use their safety and wellbeing for leverage. It would be impossible to remain detached and be able to make tough calls if he let himself grow any closer to Eames, if he let his heart get bound to someone else.
Arthur also gave some excuses about Eames not seeming like the committed sort, about Eames probably just wanting to get in his pants and then leave him like all the conquests he told stories about on boring jobs. Ariadne just rolled her eyes and criticized Arthur's intelligence, informing him that he clearly didn't see the way Eames looked at him, told him how obvious it was when Eames told those stories and then watched Arthur specifically for a reaction.
In the end it came down to the fact that Arthur was scared. He was scared of letting himself care as much about someone else – someone he had no real control over – as much as himself. He was scared of becoming involved and then letting Eames down, or having one of them used against the other by an enemy. He was terrified of the thought of growing closer to Eames knowing how deadly their job profession was. It didn't matter how cautious and professional they both were; all it took was one bullet.
Ariadne was not going to convince him so eventually they shared one final drink and then headed back to the hotel to prepare for their flight the next day. A few things changed after that, but nothing serious. Eames sent Arthur a few more private smiles, and Ariadne occasionally sent Arthur a few knowing looks. But that was it. Arthur continued on treating Eames like he was barely tolerable – which was sort of true since just having Eames around was a distracting temptation that always had Arthur's patience worn thin – Eames continued to flirt, and they both continued to awkwardly work on jobs together.
Arthur's thoughts slid back to the present when he felt a warm hand brush across his back, fingers tickling his shoulders and the short hairs on the nape of his neck. "Hello, darling," Eames smiled against Arthur's ear, though the voice was higher and softer, the fingers smaller and more delicate.
When Arthur pulled away enough to get a good look, he saw a woman standing against his side, smiling with her arm wrapped around Arthur's shoulders. Her eyes – a shade of blue Arthur would always know – were level with Arthur even though he was sitting on a high stool, her frame shorter and aided by strapped heels. Her lips – red and full – were also familiar as they quirked up lopsided, but her hair was black and her skin milky.
"You took your time, Eames," Arthur grumbled, shrugging Eames' arm from his shoulders.
Eames, never one to be deterred easily, scooped up Arthur's glass and finished his drink before setting it back down. She leaned against the bar this time after being shrugged off, though she didn't look very upset. She took the opportunity to lean over and stick her ass in the air. "I wanted to make sure I looked perfect for you," Eames winked.
"You look fine," Arthur offered flippantly, knowing they would never get anywhere if he didn't indulge Eames slightly.
"That's it?" Eames pouted. "Just fine?"
"Eames," Arthur sighed, checking his watch. "The mark is over there in that corner and Yusuf is about to inject the truth serum and I would rather not miss this opportunity."
Eames remained silent for a moment, turning and leaning her back against the bar to survey the lounge to scope out the mark. Arthur felt relieved, assuming Eames was – for once – actually in a working mindset. But then Eames smiled, playful, and leaned in close enough that Arthur could smell a flowery cloud of perfume around her. "Tell me what you really think of me," she insisted softly.
Arthur felt a shiver run down his spine, but it wasn't the kind he was used to experiencing from Eames' flirtations. This one felt like someone had poured liquid ice through his bones. It passed quickly and Arthur shrugged it off and opened his mouth to respond. He meant to say 'Can we please focus?' but instead he got, "Beautiful."
Eames blinked, smile widening. "Darling, I didn't know you cared."
More words fell from Arthur's mouth before he could quite swallow them. "But not as appealing now as in reality."
This time Eames' eyes widened and her smile faltered, as though she was expecting some cutting remark to follow. But nothing else came out of Arthur's mouth except for a tiny groan he thought only he could hear in the back of his throat. "Arthur…" Eames began, hesitant but hopeful.
"Look, can we just go to the mark?" Arthur said quickly before Eames could say anything else, feeling his cheeks burn with more than alcohol. He had no idea what had possessed him to say that, but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on the job.
Eames wavered, clearly wanting to say something, but nodded. "Give me two minutes and then I'll give you the signal. You know the one—?"
"You know I know," Arthur cut her off. It was a signal they had developed on their first job together, long before Inception. "And you know I'll be there," he said a little more softly. Then he cleared his throat. "Now get going." He watched Eames smile and head across the lounge, but rose his eyebrows in confusion when Eames spun on her heel and rushed back to stand beside Arthur. "What now?"
Eames' hand slid forward to rest on Arthur's thigh, her palm warm even through his pants fabric. "I always tried to make my forgeries attractive for you," Eames whispered against Arthur's collarbone, tracing circles with her thumb. "I'm really glad you like me in reality more."
"Why are you telling me this now?" he asked hurriedly, pushing her away.
Eames looked puzzled for a moment. "I just felt like you should know, like I had to tell you."
"Great," Arthur croaked out. "Now please go deal with the mark before our time runs out."
Clarity seemed to return to Eames' eyes and this time when she turned and walked away, she didn't pause. Arthur watched Eames sway her hips up to the table and catch the mark's attention. It was easy to get the mark's posse to leave since they were all actually Eames' projections, and it wasn't long before Eames was sliding into the opposite side of the booth from the mark. Arthur sighed in relief; things were finally going according to plan. He didn't know what had come over them a moment ago but now they would get their information and be done.
That thought flew out the window when Eames signalled distress to Arthur one minute and seventeen seconds early. Arthur took his refilled glass with him and made a beeline for the booth, sitting down next to Eames and across from their mark. "Who are you?" the man asked, looking rather upset at having another man intrude on his alone time with Eames' forgery.
Arthur had his alias on the tip of his tongue, details practiced and memorized. "Arthur," he said and then winced. That wasn't right at all!
"I'm Gregory, but just call me Greg, please," their mark said, offering a hand. Feeling a little dazed and disoriented, Arthur shook it across the table. Then he took a very large gulp of alcohol. "Your partner here was just telling me how you were here to steal from me," Greg said, sounding understandably upset.
Arthur's mind tripped over two words at once: partner and steal. Luckily he was able to at least focus his brain on the more pressing issue for a moment, though it felt like his head had been stuffed full of cotton. "I think 'steal' is the wrong word for it," he tried to backtrack, shooting Eames a look. She looked back at him with wide eyes and sealed lips, as though she didn't trust herself to speak. "We are here to… collect information from you," he forced himself to say.
"Information about what?" Greg raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the booth now and looking a bit more relaxed since Arthur wasn't completely trying to bury the topic.
"About Valgate and the crime ring," Arthur said simply and then inwardly cursed. Eames gave a grunt of surprise, sounding pained. Arthur's hands clenched into fists under the table until his fingernails dug into skin. What the hell was wrong with him?
Greg gave a surprised laugh. "Well I appreciate your honesty, Arthur," Greg said. And that's when realization struck Arthur and, judging by her expression, Eames as well. They had no idea what had gone wrong up in reality, but they were positive that the truth serum had somehow ended up in the dreamworkers' bloodstreams as much as the mark's. Arthur felt his stomach twist with nerves. "How do you even know about that?"
"Research," Arthur offered simply, learning quickly that there was an art to saying the truth without spilling every detail. "Not extensive enough to not need an inside source," he added to make sure he didn't sound like he was hiding anything.
Greg hummed, taking a sip of his drink. "And what do you need this information for?"
"To shut down the crime ring," Eames supplied, jumping into the conversation. Arthur felt relieved; Eames had always been more skilled with wordplay than Arthur. As long as Eames had begun to realize what was going on and how to work around the serum, they were still in good hands.
Arthur would have thought that this approach was a bit risky, except that both Arthur and Eames knew from the research that Greg had been a somewhat unwilling participant in this crime ring for the last four years. Valgate had basically bullied the majority of the city into submission and made it impossible for any deserters to get jobs outside the ring. "I'd love to help you and I think you know that," Greg sighed. "But my hands are tied."
Arthur jumped slightly when Eames' hand slid over his own clenched hand, brushing his fingers against the back of Arthur's hand to coax Arthur into releasing his fists. "Well it doesn't really matter here," Eames said flippantly.
Arthur let out a silent breath and uncurled his fingers, feeling them ache with tension. Eames rested her hand on Arthur's knee and Arthur knew he should knock it away, but it helped him feel less panicked. It felt like Eames was saying 'I've got this'. "And why is that?" Greg asked, a bit more conversational now.
"Because this is a dream," Eames said easily, offering a sweet smile. "Watch," Eames said, and then between blinks the dark-haired beauty transformed into a man Arthur knew well. The hand on Arthur's knee was much bigger and much warmer. Eames stole a moment to glance over at Arthur, blue eyes the same, lips quirking with barely-contained laughter. This was all going so wrong and yet it all seemed to be working out.
They both turned back to Greg at the same time, and he looked so shocked that Arthur and Eames couldn't help but chuckle. "This is a dream?" Greg asked, awed. "It feels so real!"
"Can you remember how you got here?" Arthur questioned; he knew this routine well. "Really think about it. Where were you before you were at this bar?"
"I was… Well…" Greg trailed off, his eyes growing even wider. "I'll be damned. Well I guess it doesn't matter then, does it?"
Acting playful and relaxed seemed to be helping the conversation and atmosphere along, so Arthur let himself laugh again as Eames gave a shrug. "I don't expect so, mate. Not here," Eames added more quietly.
They all ordered another drink and Greg spent the next ten minutes answering all their questions about the crime ring and the leader, as well as many of the other people involved in some projects Arthur and Eames and their employer hadn't even heard of. It was the most bizarre and also the most successful job Arthur had ever experienced. At some point he remembered to knock Eames' hand from his knee, no longer needing the comfort, and he told himself not to miss the warm weight of Eames' hand.
By the time they had all of the answers they needed – and then some – Arthur glanced down at his watch and realized that they still had ten minutes left before his and Eames' timer ran out. Greg would be woken slowly from sleep only after Yusuf had removed his needle, which was the last step in packing up to give them time to escape Greg's cabin unnoticed.
Conversation lulled and Arthur noticed Greg glancing between them. "So, who are you guys supposed to be?"
"Two people you can rant your frustrations to." Eames' words were a bit halted as he struggled to find some truth that would work, and Arthur was impressed with the result.
"I wonder why I imagined you two together though," Greg stroked his chin. "Maybe this is me dealing with the fact that I just found out my cousin is gay. Do you think that's it?"
"Maybe," Eames nodded.
"Together?" Arthur found it hard to breathe.
Greg look confused and then smiled. "Well yeah. Eames called you her—his partner when he first came over to my table. And you two are obviously together."
"What makes you think so?" Eames asked, sounding only slightly less nervous than Arthur felt.
Greg pondered this question for a moment. "You sit close together or angle your bodies towards each other," Greg noted. "And you don't seem to need to talk to know what the other is thinking."
"We're not together," Arthur forced out. He felt dizzy. He wanted Eames' hand back for comfort, except that would defeat the whole purpose of his panic.
"Why not?" Greg leaned forward. "You guys seem pretty interested in each other."
"Because I…" Arthur began without really thinking and then he swallowed the words, fought them down. Damn Yusuf's chemicals. Why couldn't the dream just end? Why did the conversation end up on this topic? Arthur's breathing quickened when he noticed Eames watching him too. A little bit of stubble on his chin, jaw clenched in bravery to withstand whatever reason Arthur has to turn down Eames over the last few years. "Because I'm scared."
"Of what?" Greg gave him a reassuring smile.
"I don't need counselling from you," Arthur snapped, defensive.
He jumped and then calmed immediately when he felt Eames' hand tentatively touch his arm and slide down to his hand. "Of what, darling?" Eames asked with a hushed voice.
Arthur realized that it wasn't even worth fighting the chemicals any longer. "Of the thought that you'll lose interest in me once we've been together. And of losing you as soon as I let myself love you."
Eames forced his fingers between Arthur's, twining their hands together. "You're not going to lose me. I've been yours for years."
"You know it's not that simple," Arthur said weakly even though Eames' words left him breathless. Eames had been his for years… and Arthur knew Eames couldn't lie here. "Our job is dangerous."
"All the more reason to stick together," Eames reminded him before surging forward, using his free hand to cup Arthur's cheek and turn him towards Eames. And then their lips were pressed together and Arthur hadn't had time to pull oxygen into his lungs but he didn't care because Eames was kissing him and his heart was racing. Arthur moaned and dropped his free hand to Eames' hip, tugging him a little closer. Eames tasted amazing, like scotch and spice and warmth.
Arthur had to pull away when his lungs began to burn for air. "Eames…" he began, vaguely aware of the fact that they had an audience.
"I know this is too fast, darling," Eames said in a rush, body moulded to Arthur's side. "But I want to tell you now so that you'll know I'm telling the truth."
"Okay," Arthur breathed, butterflies in his stomach making him feel lightheaded.
Eames looked directly into Arthur's eyes, smiling softly. "I love you. I've loved you for a very long time. Ever since that job in Peru where I was being a complete ass and you came to save me anyway, but still trusted me on the next job. Since we went out to dinner to celebrate with the team and you wore that purple scarf and you got a little tipsy. It was the first time I saw you laugh."
The words – and the truth – washed over Arthur like a warm wave of water, surrounding him and holding him close. Arthur had thought of saying these words to Eames once or twice before – not seriously; just wondering what Eames might say in return and feeling that nervous excitement bubble up inside him at the thought. This time he didn't fight the words back down when they filled him up. "I love you too." He knew it was a much simpler declaration than Eames', but he also knew Eames didn't mind.
Arthur pulled Eames into another kiss and pulled Eames' body close to his. He had cared for Eames and desired him for so long; it felt odd to be allowed to kiss him and touch Eames' body without giving his secret away or acting out of place. He believed Eames' confession and wasn't worried about losing Eames to someone else. Arthur was still worried about the dangerousness of their jobs, but the logical part of Arthur's brain helpfully reminded him that they were both safer when watching each other's backs.
A/N: All of the explicit content can be found here: archiveofourown(dot-org)/users/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles