Prompt at kinkmeme:

When the sedative isn't there to keep him stationary, Arthur sleepwalks. Whenever they wind up sleeping anywhere in the same building as each other, Arthur always somehow sleepwalks his way right into Cobb's bed. (Mal used to find this hilariously funny; Cobb has always just wondered how in the hell Arthur manages to pick his way through locks while sleeping.)

Now that Mal's gone, though, Arthur crawling into bed with him is beginning to feel a little different. It doesn't just bring up that safe, protective feeling it once did. Now it makes him feel more, makes him feel things that he'd really rather not examine too closely.


1.

He was a kid when he started doing it. Sixteen? Seventeen? Young, anyway- he'd grown up rough, and he was latching onto parent figures. And if he was a little old for that, well, who cared? He was like a child to them. Smart, often neurotic, and weirdly efficient- but still a child. He'd walk into their rooms, completely unconscious, and would stay asleep the whole while as he collapsed in their bed.

So they'd curl around him, and it would feel right, Mal's leg slung over Arthur's calves to hook around Dom's foot, Arthur's nose brushing against his collarbone, Arthur's head pillowed on his outstretched arm as Mal kissed his hand. And often Dom or Mal would wake up to find that Arthur had wound his body around one of them. Mal took it in stride, and Dom learned to do so as well.

2.

Arthur came into his room the night Mal died. Dom was in LA, Arthur had been in Lithuania, but two hours after they scraped away the corpse from the sidewalk, Arthur opened his bedroom door and grabbed him in a bear hug. He squeezed the air out of his lungs- but the contact was what Dom needed, and he sobbed into Arthur's shirt for a whole hour before falling into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning Dom had to leave, but one of his children followed him out of the country.

3.

It was only when someone commented on him that Dom realized it was- a little strange. Arthur was twenty two, after all.

"You two are- sleeping together?" Her name is Sandra, and it's probably not her real name, and they've worked together several times. She's good, and they're friendly enough so she can hurl accusations.

"What- what?" Dom said, completely taken aback. "Who?"

"Arthur." Sandra said. "Look, I mean, I'm not saying anything. He's a consenting adult. But, seriously, Dom, it's just- I can't help but feel a little prot-"

"What are you talking about?" Dom insisted.

"He walked out of your room wearing one of your shirts." Sandra came out and said.

Dom blinked. "Yes- he sleeps in my rooms, sometimes. We're not having sex, Sandra. That's ridiculous. I've known him since he was sixteen."

"Sixteen. Sixteen?"

"For god's sake." Dom snapped at her, and stalked away. She was not Mal or Arthur, she could not understand what they all meant to each other.

4.

Four different locks dangled open that morning, and Dom didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused as he made his way down to breakfast. Arthur was still sleeping upstairs, and there was a wire on the floor where he dropped it before crawling into bed with him. It was a small bed, so it was a little cramped, but Dom had slept better than he'd had for ages.

He fixed the locks back before fixing breakfast, and when he turned around later, Arthur was standing there, a sleepy look on his face. "Timezit?" he murmured, padding to the table and slumping over.

"Still early." Dom said, and tried not to stare at the way the shirt hung off Arthur's sharp hipbones.

5.

"I could go back home." Dom whispered into Arthur's hair. He was still trying to get to terms with it. Their team slept in various rooms in the warehouse, but Arthur had wound up in his own, about one am. He was never aware of doing it, and after entering had immediately fallen into deep slumber. "You hear that- we could go back."

Arthur snuffled a little and burrowed himself deeper into the blankets and against Dom's chest. Dom put an arm around him and kissed his ear.

His stomach fluttered before he went to sleep.

(It was a big job, after all.)

6.

They were home. They were home. Dom tucked his children into bed and could hardly hide his elation. It felt like champagne was fizzing in his blood, and he was about to drop to sleep with a goofy smile on his face when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur was awake, not sleepwalking. His eyes were grave as he regarded Dom- he was wearing one of those large shirts that Arthur liked to sleep in. He looked at once completely like and utterly different from the sixteen year old who had first dazedly wound up in their bed.

Dom swallowed.

"I love you." Arthur said, his mouth unsmiling, even as Dom gently covered it with his own, and there were soft, birdlike hands fluttering up to the back of his head. "Is that- okay?"

Dom pushed him down onto the mattress and answered as best as he could.