It's certainly awkward to wake up with something vibrating against your groin, but that's exactly what happens to Arthur one Tuesday morning. He cracks one eye open and sees that he's not in his flat. He's in a small room with garish brown wallpaper that looks like it belongs in a dark, dark corner of the 1970s and a TV quietly playing the morning news. Arthur rubs his eyes. The morning light is muted by the (offensively yellow) curtains. He aches. There's a twinge in his neck and his back is sore, like it's been twisted. He guesses he must've fallen asleep on the sofa. Then he feels the sofa moving underneath him. Sofas don't do that. At least, not when you haven't taken some kind of drugs. Then they do all kinds of things. He looks down and sees that he's lying on top of someone, and that someone happens to be Eames. His mind temporarily short-circuits. He lets out a sort of strangled yelp and scrambles away, falling off the sofa in the process and landing on the floor in a heap.
"Shit," he says, "Ah, shit."
Something is still vibrating against his groin. On closer investigation it turns out his phone is buzzing in his trouser pocket. He fishes it out because he'd rather deal with that than the disturbing situation involving him and Eames asleep on the sofa, which he's really rather not think about right now. Or ever.
"Er, hello?" he says, voice thick and tired.
"Arthur, where are you?"
It's Cobb. Arthur can't really deal with his question right now because that involves dealing with the aforementioned situation, so instead he says, "Er, what? Why?"
"It's ten o'clock," says Cobb, "You're an hour late for work. You're never late."
"Shit," Arthur breathes, "Erm, I – I'll get there as soon as I can, but, you know – trains and stuff, you know how it is."
"No, I don't. There aren't any delays reported on the trains. I listened to BBC London in the car."
"What was that, Cobb? I can't hear you, you're breaking up. I'll talk more later, bye."
"Arthur, where are you? Arthur –"
"Bye," says Arthur, ending the call.
He groans and leans back against the sofa.
"Fuck," he sighs.
Then he feels a hand in his hair, and he turns round and gives Eames his best fuck-you-with-a-screwdriver-Eames look.
"Morning," says Eames, altogether too smugly.
"It is," says Arthur, getting up and shoving Eames' hand away.
"Going so soon?" asks Eames.
"I'm late for work," says Arthur, brushing down his clothes in an attempt to make himself look presentable, "You know, that thing that some of us actually got to? I take it you're not coming today, then."
"I'm ill," Eames says pitifully, hauling himself into a sitting position.
Arthur looks at him.
"Yeah, you do look like shit," he agrees.
Eames grabs Arthur's hand and pulls him into his lap, arms around his waist.
"Eames," Arthur complains, squirming.
"Are you coming back tonight?" Eames asks.
"No, I'm bloody well not. You can look after yourself, for all that I care," says Arthur, trying to get away.
Eames holds him fast.
"Arthur."
Arthur stops struggling and looks at him.
"Eames."
"Take my house keys. They're on the table."
"OK."
Eames brushes Arthur's unruly hair out of his eyes and kisses him on the forehead.
"Have a good day at work, darling."
And Arthur feels a twinge in his stomach, because this is ridiculously domestic and the way that Eames is looking at him hurts, and he lets out a small sigh and says, "Take care of yourself, OK?"
"What happened to you?" asks Cobb when Arthur walks into the office half an hour later.
Arthur gives him and everyone else who's staring at him – which is the whole office – a get-the-fuck-back-to-work-you-plebs look. Arthur has many Looks. Only Eames is completely fluent in Arthurian Fuck-Yous, because he's had the most experience in it.
"Nothing," says Arthur.
"Why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" says Ari, poking her head through the door.
"What are you even doing here, Ari? This is the Finance department, in case you can't read the gigantic fucking sign on the wall!"
"Did you go round Eames' last night?" says Yusuf gleefully, his head appearing above Ari's.
"The same goes for you!" Arthur practically screams, "Go back to where you came from!"
"Racist," says Yusuf.
"I meant the Pharmaceutical department, you idiot. Go on, both of you, leave!"
They make a quick exit, giggling, and Arthur sighs as if the world as personally wronged him. He sinks into his chair and logs onto the computer. He glances up five seconds later and sees Cobb, Ari and Yusuf standing around his desk.
"Can I help you?" he says, practically growling.
"What happened?" says Cobb.
"I missed my train."
Ari raises an eyebrow. Yusuf widens his eyes. Cobb squints at him. Goddammit, Arthur can resist anything Ari and Yusuf fling at him, but he's never been able to stand up to the scrutiny of The Squint.
"Alright, alright!" he says, holding up his hands, "I did go round Eames' last night. Only because some people who shall remain nameless forced me to."
He glances up five seconds later and sees the entire office standing around his desk.
"Nothing happened," he says lowly.
Everyone nods in a yes-Arthur-we-believe-you way.
"No, really!" Arthur cries, "I was taking care of him! He's ill! He's off work! If anything had happened, don't you think I'd be off work 'sick' too?"
"You have a point," says Ari, "I don't think we'd see you for the next fortnight."
"I thought you said he'd tie me to the bed for ten days?"
"Yeah, but you'd need four days to recover from it."
"So why were you late?" asks Cobb.
"I overslept. Not like that. I was sleeping on the couch!"
"Was Eames as well?" asks Yusuf.
"Goddammit, Yusuf!" Arthur swears, "Yes, OK, yes, but it was an accident. We were watching TV and it was late and we just fell asleep, OK!"
Everyone nods again.
"No, wait," says Arthur, "I can prove it."
He grabs his phone and calls Eames, putting him on speakerphone. Everyone leans in a bit closer to listen.
"Hello, darling," says Eames, "Missing me already?"
"I'd just like to clarify something," says Arthur, "Have we ever slept together?"
"Not that I recall, darling."
Everyone sighs or says "I told you so," and some money changes hands.
"Of course, you could change that if you liked, the offer's always there," Eames continues.
"Tell me that when you're not disease-ridden and disgusting."
"So you'll consider it then?"
"Get off," says Arthur, ending the call.
When he looks up, everyone is still standing around his desk, staring at him.
"What?"
"You have dimples," says Ari.
"I don't."
"You do! When you're talking to him, you get dimples. It's adorable."
"Shut up."
Ari pinches his cheek, as if he's the cutest thing she's ever seen. That's when Arthur decides enough is enough.
"Everyone, get back to work!" he demands.
"Go on, everyone," Cobb agrees.
The crowd disperses, everyone except Ari and Cobb heading back to their desks. Arthur huffs, feeling very much put-upon. Cobb leans over, face serious.
"You two really need to sort yourselves out," he says.
"Thank you for your input," says Arthur, not looking up from his computer screen.
"Er, Ari?" says Cobb, nodding in the direction of the door, "Back to work?"
"Oh, er, right," says Ari, twisting her hair around her finger, "I'll just, you know, go."
Cobb smiles awkwardly after her as she leaves.
"Half your age," says Arthur.
Cobb picks up a financial report from the desk and hits him over the head with it.
"And stop drawing penises on these," he says, retreating to his desk.
Arthur half-moves in to Eames' house that week. He goes back to his on Tuesday night to pick up some clothes and then goes back to Eames'. Eames is still pretty rough. He hurls into the toilet that evening and Arthur kneels next to him, rubbing circles into his back.
"You alright?" he asks.
"Bloody fabulous," says Eames, breathing heavily and holding onto the toilet lid.
"Come on," says Arthur, "Bed."
He drags Eames into bed, and Eames drags Arthur into bed as well.
"What?" says Arthur.
"Want cuddles," Eames mumbles.
"You are pathetic. No. This is ridiculous."
Arthur scrambles out of bed and Eames whines mournfully. He lies there, feeling sick and alone and unloved, for all of five minutes. Then he feels someone crawling into the bed. Eames hums contentedly, pulling him nearer.
"Didn't think you'd come back," he says.
"I had to get changed into my pyjamas, idiot."
Eames manhandles Arthur so they're spooning. Arthur's the little spoon, neatly tucked into Eames.
"Fine," Arthur sighs, "Just don't throw up on me."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Arthur remembers to set the alarm on his phone. He wakes up at a reasonable time on Wednesday, with his ridiculously annoying co-worker nuzzling at his ear and mumbling nonsense at him. It's pretty surreal. This is what Arthur's life has become. Dear Lord help him. He extricates himself from Eames, who is very clingy in his sleep and has a shower. Eames is still asleep in bed by the time he's got dressed. Arthur feels unreasonably fond when he looks down at Eames' sleeping form. He sits on the edge of the bed and runs a finger along the side of Eames' face. The easy intimacy of it startles him a little.
"Hey," he says softly.
"Mmmf."
"I've gotta go to work now. I'll see you this evening, yeah?"
And he doesn't know why, but he doesn't think anything of it, just leans over and kisses Eames on the cheek. Then he sits up straight and has an impromptu mini freak out because how is this his life. He doesn't know the ins and outs of what exactly is acceptable within working relationships, but he's pretty sure that he and Eames are way past that stage by now. But if they're not colleagues then what are they? Eames pesters him at work and makes him lunch and asks him round on weekends. Arthur tolerates his constant come-ons and takes care of him when he's ill and sleeps in his bed. It's getting a bit – close.
"You going or what?" Eames mumbles.
"Shut up, Mr Eames," says Arthur, and leaves.
When he gets the tube that morning, there's an elderly lady sitting with a handbag perched on her lap, smiling at him. The same one from Monday.
"How's your boyfriend?" she asks.
"He's not my boyfriend," Arthur says defensively.
The elderly lady just smiles more.
"He's alright," Arthur relents, "Still pretty sick though. I'm taking care of him."
"Did you give him my fruit cake?"
"He's not really well enough to eat anything at the moment."
"Poor love."
"Mm."
"How's the patient?" Ari asks that lunchtime, passing Arthur a coffee.
Arthur shrugs.
"Alright. Still throwing up though."
"Lovely," says Ari.
"You're the one who made me take care of him," Arthur reminds her, "You haven't helped a bit."
Ari shrugs.
"I've been busy."
"Really."
Ari nods, leaning in.
"I'm trying to seduce a certain member of the senior management team," she says conspiratorially.
Arthur remembers the speech Saito gave when he gave them the afternoon off, or more importantly, the inappropriate comments Ari had made at the time. He grimaces. Really, Saito? He'd questioned her at the time, because really. Not only was he their boss, but he wasn't exactly not much of a looker – at least, not if you're a pretty twenty-something year-old.
"Why him?" Arthur asks.
His phone beeps. It's Eames. Of course.
Eames, 1.30pm
mums coming over 2nite after work. we wont be able 2 have rampant sex as per usual xx
Ari sighs, looking over at Cobb, who's talking to a group of their colleagues at the other side of the room. Arthur doesn't look up from his screen.
Arthur, 1.31pm
That's a shame. I was looking forward to seeing you on your knees.
"I don't know," Ari admits, "I've just always liked older men. I had this massive thing for my teacher at college. There's something sexy about someone with that much more experience. You know what I mean?"
Eames, 1.31pm
oh fuck arthur im ill u shuldnt tease me lyk dis. the things u do 2 me
Arthur does his best to maintain a neutral expression.
"No. I don't."
Arthur, 1.32pm
I could do far worse things to you.
Ari snorts.
"Yeah, like you have more experience than Eames."
Arthur kicks her under the desk.
"Ow," Ari complains, but she forgets about it when Cobb looks over.
Eames, 1.32pm
plz expand on dis statement
Their eyes meet and she raises her hand in an awkward half-wave. He smiles and half-waves back.
"I mean, don't you see something in him?" Ari asks, "You've known him longer than I have. You must've considered it."
"No. No, I really haven't."
"I think he's just shy," Ari decides, when Cobb turns away, blushing, "I mean, it's been a while since he's dated anyone. He just needs to get back into the swing of it. Get his confidence back. What do you think?"
Arthur, 1.33pm
Maybe later. If you're lucky.
"Hmm, yeah," Arthur says, non-committal.
"Earth to Arthur," says Ari, waving her hand in front of his face, "What do think I should do?"
Arthur looks up from his phone.
"Er, I don't know."
"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"
"Yes."
Arthur's phone beeps again.
"Who are you texting?"
"No-one."
Ari makes a grab for Arthur's phone. He ducks, but she snatches it all the same.
"Oh my God, Arthur!" she laughs, as Arthur leaps off his chair and starts to wrestle her, "You two are naughty, aren't you?"
"It's not – like that," Arthur cries.
"Catch!" Ari calls, throwing the phone to Yusuf, who's just walked in.
His eyes widen as he looks at the screen.
"I really didn't need that mental image," he says, "But it's good to know that you're dealing with your sexual frustrations."
Arthur gets off Ari and grabs his phone back from Yusuf. He looks at the text Eames just sent him.
Eames, 1.34pm
i swear to god Arthur wen im well im goin2 fuck u in2 the mattres
Arthur feels his face turn red, and Ari and Yusuf collapse into giggles.
"Get out!" he shouts, practically shoving them out of the door, "Now!"
Arthur, 1.36pm
Ari and Yusuf saw that by the way.
Eames, 1.37pm
shit. im stil goin2 fuck u tho.
Arthur, 1.38pm
We'll see about that.