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Arthur stared blankly at the bright computer screen before him. It was silent save for the light buzzing of the ancient machine. He honestly needed a new one, seeing as this model was almost a year old now. Of course, there was the issue of affording one, but a little smooth talking with his grandfather should do the trick. He was just considering the current models on the market when his phone went off, buzzing violently in his pocket and wrenching him back into reality. It stopped after two buzzes, so it was most likely a text message. Pulling the device from his pocket, he glanced at the screen. Eames.
Eames was Arthur's best friend, a handsome young brit who had moved to Los Angeles four years ago, back when Arthur was in eighth grade. At first, Arthur had hated him. He was too charming, too smooth, too clever, too cocky, and much too gorgeous. But, just his luck, the boy had taken to him immediately and insisted on following him around until Arthur eventually found himself actually enjoying his company. They'd been best friends ever since.
He tapped the screen, opening the text, curious what Eames wanted at twelve o'clock at night.
-I'm coming over
Arthur frowned and quickly typed up his reply.
-What? Right now? You can't. My room's a mess.
He'd barely set the phone down before he got his response.
-Bullshit Arthur. I'll be there in five.
Arthur groaned as he set down the phone again. He didn't want to deal with this right now. He was busy trying to get over Eames. And a sudden late night sleepover wasn't going to help that. In fact, it seemed like every time he thought he was finally over it, Eames decided to charm him back full force- blue eyes shining, smile glowing- and he probably didn't even realize it.
Just then, his bedroom door slid open. Arthur jumped out of his seat, completely ready to fight off the intruder. A low chuckle came from the doorway, followed shortly by a person.
"Fuck, Eames! You trying to kill me? How'd you even get in?"
Eames laughed again, carefully closing the door behind him.
"Well, it's nice to see you too, Darling."
Arthur rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest as he glared at his friend.
"Oh, relax, mate. You think I don't know where you keep your spare key?"
He said, holding the key up as evidence as he walked over to give Arthur a friendly hug. The American melted into the embrace slightly, happy as always to be in Eames' arms. Not that he'd admit that. To anyone.
...
A little while later, the boys were sitting on Arthur's bed, Arthur in pajama pants and a worn out tee, while Eames sat topless, clad only in a pair of ridiculous lounge pants. He was only eighteen and already a good portion of his chest and arms were stained with tattoo ink. Arthur had seen them all before. Many times, in fact. He'd even been there when Eames had gotten a few of them. Arthur's own pale flesh was unmarked, save for a handful of scars here and there.
Their conversation came to a sudden lull, neither of them entirely sure of how to continue on the topic. So, they instead settled for a few moments of silence. It was Eames who finally broke the silence.
"So, pet… Here's a question, do you still –you know- like me?"
Arthur froze. How in hell did he know that? Arthur never told him anything. Never told anyone anything. A small nervous chuckle escaped him.
"What makes you say that?"
Eames laughed, shoving Arthur's shoulder playfully.
"Arthur, darling, you're really not as mysterious and unreadable as you seem to think. Now answer the question, if you please."
Arthur gaped at him for just a bit longer, just for good measure, as he tried to figure out how he could possibly answer that. Eames, damn him, watched expectantly, a small smug smile on his lips.
"I- I'm almost over you. Almost."
He answered quietly, his words slow and measured, his eyes locked down on his hands as he spoke. A short noise from Eames had him looking up again.
"Almost? And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"
Eames asked almost teasingly. Arthur had to bite back the urge to punch him. This was his big secret, his big reveal, and Eames was laughing at him.
"Point zero five percent."
He muttered. He knew Eames would make him repeat it, seeing as there was no way in hell he'd actually caught that.
"Point oh five percent?"
Oh, nevermind.
"The bloody hell does that mean?"
Arthur took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts together, meanwhile keeping his eyes trained downward.
"It means that normally I'm ninety-nine point nine five percent over you. That's what it means."
Eames chuckled again, and once more, Arthur found himself fighting down the urge to crash his fist into the Brit's face.
"Alright then. Well, there's your secret, so here's mine."
Arthur frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. What secret could Eames possibly have? He didn't speak, but simply waited for the other boy to continue.
"My mum remarried."
He said after a brief pause. Arthur wasn't surprised to hear this. It wasn't the first time she'd done it. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Eames cut him off with a bitter chuckle and a shake of his head.
"He kicked me out tonight. That's why I'm here. Said he wouldn't have disgusting scum like me living in his house."
Arthur's breath caught in his throat. He never thought- well he didn't even stop to question why Eames was coming over. It seemed perfectly normal at the time. Eames smirked as another bitter laugh slipped from him, then it was silent again. It engulfed the boys, threatening to suffocate them with its weight alone. Finally, Arthur's curiosity got the better of him.
"Why?"
It was all he could do to form the one word. Eames chuckled again, still just as bitter, and shook his head once more.
"How 'bout we keep it to one secret per night, eh pet?"
Arthur frowned and grabbed Eames hard by the arm, forcing him to look him in the eye.
"Eames, tell me. I'm your best friend, right? So who else are you going to tell?"
The Brit sighed and looked away, shaking his head again. He did nothing to remove his arm from Arthur's grasp.
"He- he found a journal entry,"
He began, speaking slowly, as though he wasn't sure that was where he wanted to start. Arthur nodded, silently urging him to continue.
"I'd kind of written down a fantasy of sorts. A sexual one. About…another guy. Jim found it and he flipped, started screaming at me and throwing things. Told me to get the hell out of his house. So I did. And I came here."
He spoke slowly at first, but at the mention of his new step-father's name he sped up, until it seemed he were rushing to say it all at once. Arthur stared at him for a long moment.
"You're gay?"
Eames laughed.
"You're that oblivious?"
...
"Alright, alright. It's your turn now. Truth or Dare?"
Arthur asked, his face bright red from embarrassment. Eames was too busy laughing to respond right away.
"Eames! It's not that funny! Honestly! I don't even know if I want to play this stupid game anymore."
Eames grinned at him, just barely managing to get his laughter under control. He rolled his eyes, softly patting Arthur's shoulder.
"Oh, don't be like that, pet. Truth, I'll go truth."
Arthur shrugged off the hand and glared at his completely ridiculous friend.
"Alright then. Who did you write about?"
Eames raised an eyebrow.
"Whatever do you mean, Darling?"
It was Arthur's turn to scoff now.
"Oh come on, Eames. You're an actor, not an author, you had to have used someone real for your fantasy. So?"
Eames chuckled again, eyeing Arthur through squinted eyes.
"Jealous, Darling?"
Arthur laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded nervous.
"Of course not. I'm just curious who the great playboy Eames deems attractive enough to write erotic fiction about."
He said coolly, taking a short sip of his Sprite before staring the other boy down again.
"Well, you of course."
Arthur laughed again, punching Eames in the arm roughly.
"Ha ha, very funny Eames. But, seriously, who was it? Was it that new kid? The-the rich one?"
"Fischer?"
Arthur nodded.
"Yeah, Fischer. Was it Fischer?"
Eames nearly doubled over from laughter. Arthur, in the meantime, could feel the hot blush staining his cheeks.
"What? What's so funny?"
Eames swatted at the thinner man slightly, attempting to gesture for Arthur to stop talking.
"No- no it wasn't Robert, although he is quite pretty. I'm serious, Darling. It was you."
Arthur glared at him, trying to find some sign of deception. Finally, he sighed and nodded, giving up. He didn't believe the other boy at all, but it wasn't like Eames was going to give up the honest answer anytime soon.
"So, pet, truth or dare?"
Eames asked, challenging smirk in place. Arthur glared right back, his own smirk firmly in place. Never one to back down from a challenge, he sat up straighter.
"Dare."
He said simply, eyes daring Eames to try something. The devilish glint in the Brit's eyes, however, had Arthur rethinking his answer.
"I dare you…"
His voice trailed off, teasing Arthur, purposely making him anxious. Arthur tilted his head slightly and leaned in.
"I dare you to kiss me."
Arthur's eyes went wide as he recoiled sharply. He looked the other boy over. What harm could possibly come from one innocent kiss between two good friends? Actually, that wasn't a thought path he particularly wanted to travel down. He considered the pros and cons of going for it.
After all, it was only a dare.
After another long pause, he sighed.
Carefully, he leaned towards the other boy. There was a short moment of hesitation when their noses touched, and Arthur almost pulled back right then. But, before he could lose his nerve, he lunged forward, connecting his lips to the other boy's.
It wasn't Arthur's first kiss; it wasn't even his first kiss with another guy, so there was absolutely no reason for this particular kiss to be so clumsy. He started to pull away, planning to apologize and suggest doing something else, but Eames reached out suddenly, grabbing hold of Arthur's neck and holding him in place.
Arthur squeaked slightly, but went along with it as Eames pressed their mouths closer together. Now this was a kiss- deep and smooth and possessive.
He slid his own hand up to cup Eames' face, tenitively stroking his thumb over the stubble. His other hand found its way to the other boy's chest, sliding smoothly over the hard muscle and soft hair it found there.
Eames' hand was in Arthur's hair now, grasping at his dark locks like a life line, while his other hand rested simply on Arthur's hip.
Eames nipped at his bottom lip, causing Arthur to gasp and unintentionally grant access to his mouth. The Brit wasted no time in exploring and soon Arthur could think of nothing but Eames' mouth on his.
The need for oxygen unfortunately outweighed the need for Eames and Arthur broke away.
Eames was staring at him, mouth open, lips swollen and red, pupils blown, and suddenly Arthur couldn't breathe.
"You-you weren't lying?"
Eames chuckled and shook his head, shifting a bit in his seat on the bed.
"Of course not, Darling. Why would I lie about that?"
Arthur's face went red and he quickly ducked his head, fixing his gaze on a spot on the sheets.
"Well, I thought- since you're always teasing me- I just thought…you were joking."
He explained, refusing to actually look at the boy.
"It's so difficult to tell when you're being serious! What with that stupid smirk always there."
He exclaimed suddenly, glaring at the other teen as he tried to shove him off the bed. Eames laughed again, easily deflecting Arthur's half-hearted blows.
"You know, love, for a genius, you can be quite dense sometimes."
He laughed, quickly dodging the pillow thrown at his head, before lunging at the slighter boy. The pair wrestled around, throwing pillows and weak punches, laughing all the while.
Finally, when they were both too tired to continue their battle, they collapsed down next to each other and stayed a while in silence. Once their breathing had calmed down again, Arthur rolled over to face Eames.
"Hey Eames?"
The boy turned his head slightly to show that he was listening.
"Truth or Dare?"
Eames' smirk should have been answer enough, but he still voiced his response.
"Dare."
Arthur smiled back, leaning towards Eames before he spoke.
"I dare you to kiss me."
He whispered, his breath ghosting over Eames' face with every word. And Eames' responding smile could have lit up the whole town.
"I thought you'd never ask."
-end-
