For Sidicious (your review made my day^^)~!
o0o
Arthur is brushing his teeth in the warehouse half-ruined bathroom. A mirror in front of him is broken with a spiderweb-shaped crack. The movements of his hand are slow, accurate and neat and all the toothpaste stays inside his mouth. He breathes mint scent. It is so peaceful moment and pretty morning. He feels so relaxed.
But all of sudden there is:
"Hello, sunshine." Eames parades into the bathroom with a vanity bag in his hand.
Arthur spits.
"Good morning," he says. The toothpaste goes down his jaw and he cleans it with his thumb.
Eames unzips the bag.
"Trying a new make-up?" Arthur asks meanly.
"Nope". Eames shows him a small plastic box with two separate tops and opens it. Then he washes his hands.
"You wear contact lenses?" The point man asks surprised.
"I do," Eames answers and puts one of the lenses into his eye. He blinks quickly.
"So how blind are you?"
"Oh, darling, that is not a politically correct question!"
Arthur shrugs his shoulders and spits into a dirty sink.
Eames blinks with both eyes.
"So…," Arthur starts again. And there is suddenly Eames leaning toward him. The tips of their noses almost meet each other. The younger man tries to focus his eyes on something else than the forger's full lips but he can't.
"To see your pretty face clearly enough without my lenses… yeah, this distance would do."
Arthur blushes and licks his mouth. He swallows all the toothpaste he should have spitted.
"You're half-blind then," he says when Eames moves back. "That's something new."
Eames smiles and shrugs as if he doesn't care.
"What if you lose one of those?"
"It's hard to lose them, darling, but I do have glasses just in case." Eames checks his hair and shirt. "Now if you please… It's always nice to talk with you but I have a date, so see you later." He taps Arthur's arm on his way out. And he's gone.
Arthur approaches a window. There is an idea in his head. Maybe he can have a revenge for all the kicks, all the darlings, all the smirks, all the jokes Eames has made already. He sees the forger going out the building. He finishes quickly brushing, rinses his mouth and runs to the room they all share together. He finds Eames' messy sport bag on the spot and goes through his stuff.
"Arthur?" He hears all of sudden with his fingers in between Eames' underwear. "What are you doing?" Cobb stands in a doorway.
The point man can feel his cheeks burning.
"Do-do you know that Eames wears contact lenses?" he asks without thinking.
"He can wear anything as long as it's not a panda costume," Cobb says angrily and the moment Arthur asks himself why, the heck, a panda costume, Dom adds: "You have nothing to do?"
"I do! I have," Arthur says quickly. "I go."
"Go then," Cobb leaves the room.
Arthur finally finds an extra box of contact lenses and hides it into his pocket. He does the same with Eames' vanity bag when the forger's sleeping.
The point man bets Eames hates his glasses. He has this roommate of his, at the dorm he stays in, Mike, who hates his glasses. He says they are nerdish, heavy and not liked by babes. Arthur knows that the playboy-like-image Eames has would be completely ruined if he wore glasses. And he likes the idea. The idea of Eames being less self-confident and less oh-I'm-so-awesome. Arthur smiles laying on a mattress in darkness. Eames sleeps in the other corner of the room.
The next day Arthur looks through guns photos on the Internet.
"Hey, darling," Eames pops in. "Have you seen my contact lenses?"
Arthur doesn't turn back and smiles slightly.
"No, I haven't," he lies. "Maybe you should care of that mess of yours?"
"I don't have time for that."
"So go and find your glasses then."
"Glasses sucks when it's raining and it is."
"Really? Or maybe you too manly to be four-eyes? Poor Eames doesn't like his glasses because kids at school laugh at him? Glasses don't look good on you? 'My pretty face is ruined', eh?"
"Everything. Looks. Good. On. Me," Eames says sharply. "Every woman and every piece of clothing look great on me."
Arthur smiles meanly.
"Prove it," he smirks. Eames is gone.
"Hi there," Ariadne enters the room and Arthur greets here warmly. "Wanna le croissant?"
"Oui."
They're eating and chatting. The architect talks mostly about her school, Arthur goes through guns again. All of sudden there is this Ariadne's "WOW". Arthur knows such wows, girly wows meaning that something is gorgeous, brilliant, cute etc.
He turns himself on a chair.
Eames stands in a doorway in black, slightly skinny jeans and white shirt.
And glasses.
And he looks like WOW.
"You're smexy, I haven't noticed that!" Ariadne smiles.
"Smexy?" Eames raises his eyebrow.
"Oh, you know, smart plus sexy. I like it. The glasses… Awesome."
"Hey, Arthur," Eames looks at the point man. "Need some help with picking your jaw up off the floor?"
Arthur goes round on his swivel chair and stares again at the screen.
Eames chuckles.
It's almost 2 am and Arthur's eyes hurt. He hasn't found the perfect gun for the dream yet.
"You still here, darling?"
Eames's back. He sits next to the point man and smells of alcohol, cigs, sweat and sex. Still in glasses. Arthur ignores him but it's almost impossible not to breathe Eames' heavy, almost aggressive scent. The forger scratches his jaw so Arthur can see a small round bruise on his neck.
"I think I shall thank you," Eames says.
"Do you?"
"Yes. The lady I was with today loved my new style. She said, wait, what's the word in French? Wait, wait, oh! I know, chic, très chic, that's what she said right to my ear. And she loved the glasses. It was the only thing I wore when, tu sais." He smiles.
"I'm glad you had fun," Arthur says rolling his eyes.
"But I shall confess something." He removes his glasses. "I don't need them at all, darling. Hey, look at me."
Arthur looks and him and Eames puts the glasses on the point man's nose."
"H-hey!" Arthur protests.
"Easy, boy! C'mon, darling, wait! Don't."
Arthur lets the glasses stay on his nose.
"I bet you can see better now."
Arthur blinks and looks at the screen. Eames is right. His vision is better. The glasses are light and comfortable. And they are warm of Eames' skin.
"I bought them for doing computer stuff and reading," Eames explains. "My eyes feel better. They aren't so red and painful, you know."
Arthur looks from behind the glasses on the screen.
"But…", he starts. "What about the contacts?"
"I don't need them. My vision's better than fine. If you weren't so afraid to look me in the eyes, you would notice that my pupils are sometimes gray, sometimes blue. The lenses I use are colorful '0's. They change eyes' color. Women like blue eyes, you know, there is this song that goes behind blue eyes, women want to find out what is behind blue eyes."
He taps Arthur's head.
"You're a nice four-eyes." He stands up. "Good night, darling."
Arthur frowns. His great plan of revenge doesn't end well.
"So it's Eames 12: Arthur 0," Eames says as if he knows the point man's thoughts.
"Why 12?" Arthur hisses but Eames only laughs shortly.
An hour later Arthur's job is finished. He switches off the laptop and notices a small box next to his mug. There's a sticker on it. He recognizes Eames' handwriting.
I fall for your big shiny brownies, it says, but I'd love to see you in blues, darling.
The box contains a pair of blue contact lenses.
"So, your weakness are blue eyes, Mr. Eames?" he smiles to himself. "That's something new."
THE END
The author used to wear glasses. Now she's crazy and in love with her contact lenses. Sorry for the fetish;).