A/N: I wanna know what you think about this one. Seriously! :)

Chapter 3: It's a small crime and I got no excuse

The weeks go by and Arthur's bruises are fading, his wounds healing. Arthur doesn't say anything to the topic and no one else does. But everybody is relieved as Arthur's face becomes its former self again and stays like that. Ariadne is like a hawk watching over Arthur, but she doesn't notice any covered injuries or hidden limping. Slowly, very slowly everyone relaxes.

Arthur even starts bickering with Eames again, but you don't have to be a detective to note that it is far friendlier now, a game rather than a serious argument. Ariadne sees the amused sparkle in Eames' eyes, when he pretends not knowing the word 'specificity'. Arthur rolls his eyes, but there is a small twitch tugging at the corners of his mouth.

All this has the team working better together, more efficient and creative, and right at the moment Ariadne feels very content and happy. When one late afternoon she grabs her coat to leave for the day and she can hear Eames calling Arthur 'darling' again, she isn't very worried. Arthur may be still annoyed when Eames gives him pet names, but it will no longer be a big issue as it was just some months ago.

With Ariadne gone and Cobb already with his kids back home, Arthur and Eames are the last ones in the office. It has been a long day and Arthur is tired like hell. He rolls his shoulders to loosen up his stiff muscles. He can Eames hear chuckle behind him and turns around.

"What?", he asks without much bite.

"It's no wonder you're all tense. I told you at least a thousand times that you should go for a walk every now and then and not sit in front of that thing all day long."

Arthur hums and shuts down the laptop.

"At least Robert can give you a massage. I myself have to walk home to an empty bed", Eames proclaims dramatically. He knows he broaches a touchy subject, but he can't resist. Ever since 'the incident', as Arthur likes to refer to, he is determined to know more details about Arthur's relationship with Robert.

"Robert doesn't do things like that", Arthur says tiredly.

Eames freezes for a second, only his left arm in the sleeve of his jacket. "Why not?", he asks, sounding at ease, but he is suddenly hyper aware.

Arthur shrugs and grabs his own jacket. "He's not the type to cuddle."

Eames frowns, because giving a massage has nothing to do with cuddling. It's more an excellent excuse to touch and caress and maybe do some naughty things.

"But he hugs you, yeah?", he says, making sure to let Arthur hear his smirk.

Arthur turns around and eyes him. The hands in the pockets of his jacket and the hunched shoulders are the only signs that Arthur feels uncomfortable with the topic.

"He's not the type, who shows affection very often, like I said …"

"Does he kiss you?", Eames asks suddenly serious and maybe a little too sharp. But he can't help it. His opinion of Robert is not very high, so he wants to make sure that he treats Arthur the way he should.

Arthur fidgets a bit, but his eyes stay locked with Eames'.

"… Sometimes … I …" Arthur finally drops the gaze as Eames slowly walks closer.

Eames can tell that Arthur gets angry, because every muscle in his body goes tense. And who can blame him? How is it Eames' business, what Arthur and Robert enjoy doing and what not? He clearly doesn't have to tell anything – especially not Eames of all people.

"We fuck, ok?!", he snaps suddenly and looks defiantly up to Eames again like he wants to prove some point. Maybe he expects Eames to be mad at him or Robert or their relationship. But all his anger disappears, when he notices the soft expression on Eames' face. He takes a step backwards, but Eames catches his face with both hands. They are warm and gentle and Arthur's heart stutters.

"It really is a pity", Eames says and his own boldness surprises him. What possesses him to hold Arthur like this? And how can he even think about anything like kissing him again, when Eames remembers very vividly the consequences of his last attempt of kissing Arthur? But Robert is nowhere near them …

"What's a pity?", Arthur whispers although there is no need to.

"That he doesn't like to kiss you. I remember it as a bloody amazing experience." Eames whispers, too. And when has he shuffled closer to Arthur? He doesn't know and he doesn't care, because Arthur's eyes are like melted chocolate and staring right into his own.

"Really?", Arthur breathes. "I can't remember a thing."

"Liar", Eames chides softly. He hesitates a second, but as Arthur's eyes dart form his own to his lips, he can't hold back anymore. Their lips meet in an innocent touch and Eames feels suddenly light as if gravity holds no power over him. Arthur is warm under his lips and although he doesn't kiss back, Eames feels like the happiest man on earth, because Arthur doesn't pull away either. Eames wouldn't mind if the moment would last forever.

But finally Arthur moves and Eames gives his lips free. And then there are Arthur's hands on the lapels of his jacket and they pull him back against Arthur's lips, still soft, but now moving slowly against Eames'.

Eames' heart stops beating and there is only Arthur now. Arthur, who tastes like old coffee and the banana he has eaten half an hour ago. Arthur, who smells like dark wood, a little smoky and somehow exclusive. Arthur's hair is soft at the nape of his neck and his skin warm despite its cool, marble look.

Eames makes a small sound in the back of his throat and Arthur pulls away, breathing as heavily as Eames. His eyes are dark and his skin slightly flushed. He looks absolutely beautiful right now. But Eames knows that he has crossed the line once. Do it again and this thing he has with Arthur – whatever it is – will shatter.

"I'm sorry", he whispers.

Arthur nods, more to himself than to Eames, and smooths out the wrinkles of Eames' lapels, where Arthur has gripped the material tightly.

"Yes … I ... I should go now." He doesn't meet Eames' searching eyes.

"Ok."

Arthur walks away slowly, as though he is unsure of himself. He finally turns half around and looks Eames in the eyes.

"Good-bye … darling", Eames says, sounding a little hoarse.

Arthur smiles oh so slightly as he hears the endearment. Eames smiles, too, but wide and happy, because he knows he hasn't screwed up completely.

"See you tomorrow, Eames."