Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the general plot. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

In Rome

Heading down the carpeted hallway Arthur's eyes scanned the space for inconsistencies or possible threats, approving of Ariadne's attention to detail in that the hallway did look like it could existence at any high scale hotel without any of the embellishments the girl hadn't been able to resist adding to her dreams in the beginning. It was always hard to rein yourself in when you first got started, becoming almost a god in a world that you could command and bend to your will.

Unlike Dom and countless others he'd met in his current profession Arthur wasn't addicted to that ego trip. He didn't need to be a god; he just needed control over himself and his choices. And since he was very good at controlling his real world he didn't need the dream world the way the others so often did.

Though his control was slipping a lot lately thanks to Eames.

Sighing, Arthur had to smile ruefully, acknowledging that he actually didn't mind so much, how much the Englishman was currently messing with his head. The benefits outweighed the costs, and would only grow once this job was over and they could see for themselves just how much the other lived up to their dream self.

Oh God but was he looking forward to that.

How much he was looking forward to it was also a problem, he acknowledged, since he didn't like needing anyone or anything. When your happiness depended on a human being you were screwed. Trying to control the human heart was a pointless endeavor, one that only came back to bite you on your ass from what he'd seen. But more and more he needed to be around Eames, even if it was just to brush up against him for a second while walking, or moving closer to hear him speak no matter what he was talking about. The sexual urges he could explain away, but the rest spoke of another kind of bond that was foreign to him in practice, but of which he'd seen enough to know the symptoms.

And that did not bode well for him.

Shaking his head at the thought Arthur punched the button for the elevator, so lost in thought that for that crucial moment he forgot to be on his guard and automatically stepped forward when the doors opened.

There was nothing below his foot.

Arthur didn't have time to try and throw himself backward, he went tumbling down the empty shaft with multiple swear words passing his lips.

Refusing to learn what it was like to wake up after being broken to bits at the bottom of an elevator shaft Arthur twisted and maneuvered his body until he managed to grasp a section of the wall some thirty feet down. The jerking action had pain coursing up his arm, but he knew how to push that aside and work through it.

Finding a handhold for his other hand Arthur took a steadying, calming breath and then slowly began altering the walls of the shaft to provide him with more handholds that would allow him to climb back up to the top.

He didn't want to risk drawing attention to his presence within the dream if he didn't have to, so he kept it simple.

So making his way up slowly, checking every handhold before using it just in case, Arthur was about half way to his goal when he heard the doors above him opening once more.

"Don't enter the elevator!"

)

Jerking back automatically at the words, instincts kicking in, Eames stood in front and then forced the closing doors open again, holding them as he looked down the shaft, all the color draining from his face as he took in the sight of Arthur clinging to the wall with the darkness of a very long drop underneath the point man. Because even though there was a voice in his head reminding him that this wasn't real he couldn't quite wrap the rest of his mind around it.

"Arthur! Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

"Don't even think of climbing down here or altering the dream." Arthur ordered as he continued to climb up like it was no big deal, his voice so calm and in control that Eames felt himself relaxing a little in spite of himself. "I've got this."

Trying to distract himself from the situation Eames knelt down, using his broad shoulders to keep the doors open while he watched every move Arthur made, heart in his throat the whole time. And as soon as Arthur was in his reach he held his hands out, watching as the man hesitated for a second and then put first one hand in his and then the other.

Once he was sure he had a firm grip Eames slowly stood up, bringing Arthur up with him. And when it was safe to do so he let one hand go before swiftly wrapping that arm around Arthur's waist, bringing the man tight against his chest. That accomplished Eames spun them out of the doorway and back into the hallway so that the elevator doors slammed shut once more behind Eames's back.

"You have excellent upper body strength."

Burying his face against the side of Arthur's neck, Eames couldn't even tell the other man not to joke at a time like this. He was too busy squeezing the stuffing out of the point man and thanking God that this hadn't been reality and that Arthur really was safe.

"Eames…I'm okay."

"I'm bloody well not so shut up and let me hug you."

He expected Arthur to give him a lecture about how he was being an idiot, at the moment he wouldn't have cared since hearing the man chew him up would have been more proof that Arthur really was okay, so when the man's arms came around him to hold him back Eames didn't know what to do.

So he just kept hugging Arthur until the other man demanded that he be turned loose.

"And don't tell Dom about this. We're stuck doing this job and his confidence is shaky as it is."

Keeping his arms loosely around Arthur's waist Eames took a calming breath, pressing their foreheads together. "Understood."

)

Their Dream

With the hot water lapping pleasantly over his bare skin Arthur closed his eyes, wishing it was just as easy to close his mind and the thoughts that dwelled there. That he was so depressed lately angered him, he had nothing to be melancholy about after all. He was the son of the emperor, by the gods, and even though his Celt mother was his father's favorite concubine, not wife, he still lived a wealthy, privileged life in the country as a result. He had land, station, and servants to see to his every need-curses!

As always that a little voice in the back of his mind whispered that he could take what he wanted, thus ending the cause of his dark moods. No one would stop or condemn him for it.

But that would require him to act dishonorably, and that he would not do.

He would not use his power to force another to become his lover.

So instead he was stuck seeing the object of his desire day after day, having only himself to blame since he was the one who had made the fierce Celt his bodyguard in the first place.

Which meant, Arthur acknowledged grimly, that on top of desiring the man so much he awoke sweaty and frustrated every day, he also had to worry about Eames dying for him because the man took his job very seriously these days. Eames felt he owed him a great debt and wouldn't even hear of being smuggled back to his country until he'd repaid that debt somehow.

Groaning at the thought Arthur let himself slip under the water, his mind turning to how he'd come to technically own the man in the first place.

He generally avoided the capital, finding it too depraved and moral-less for his tastes. You didn't ever want to get him started on his opinion of the Coliseum, which had the added irony of that being the evil place where he'd first caught sight of his new bodyguard. The man had been a soldier in his country, a well known one who'd been captured and brought back to Rome due to that reputation. He'd been made a gladiator and had quickly become infamous there, both for his fighting prowess and the fact that he refused to service the women and men who'd paid to bed him. He might not have spoken their language, but apparently he'd made his disgust and disinterest in them clear nonetheless.

To a degree that they'd actually left rather than face such disgusted fury.

And it had been a combination of the man's strength and physical prowess that had made his own half-brother interested in making the gladiator's acquaintance in the worst possible way.

Personally he'd been ordered by his father to attend the Coliseum with his older brother and a few others that day, the old man foolish enough to believe that if he spent some quality time with Marcus the man would stop trying to maim or kill him whenever the opportunity presented itself. So he'd been stuck in a box listening to the plans his pain loving brother intended to inflict on the gladiator, thinking that purchasing and breaking the impudent Celt would be a challenge 'worthy' of him.

It had been a mixture of basic compassion and hatred for his brother that had caused him to slip out while the others drank, seeking out Eames's owner and negotiating to buy the Celt before his brother had the chance to get ahold of him.

If not for the fact that he'd identified himself as the emperor's son Arthur imagined the man would have never sold Eames to him, but he was in very good standing with his father and the slave master had feared the repercussions if he refused him.

So he'd taken Eames home with him the next day, knowing better than to hang around as his brother had hit the roof so to speak when he'd learned what he'd done. It hadn't been easy getting Eames to behave either, but his mother had taught him her tongue so at least he'd been able to communicate with the Celt. With time and effort he'd made Eames believe that he would never abuse or use him, and they'd settled into a truce of sorts.

And he'd figured out that he wanted to be used by the handsome, tribal tattoo covered man pretty quick once the man had stopped looking at him like he wanted to kill him. He hadn't pursued him though, never betraying his interest. By law Eames belonged to him, and if he made his interest known the former soldier might see it as a requirement, destroying their sort of friendship.

That he couldn't bear.

Surfacing as he'd run out of air Arthur angrily slapped at his bath water in a childish show of aggravation.

And while Arthur took his anger out on the water he remained unaware of the fact that he was no longer alone, someone now watching in the shadows, both hiding from him and watching over him. He couldn't see anything from where he was, Eames silently reasoned with a faint smirk, but his 'master' tended to get very angry if he interrupted him while he was less than fully dressed.

Which was a pity as he enjoyed that view quite a bit, not that he'd ever admit such a thing out loud.

Logically he knew that what he needed to do was to take a lover, Arthur mused once he was done his small tantrum, settling back down. He needed to quench his desire in the arms of another man he was free to know in that way. But the idea of using someone else that way, as a stand in, turned his stomach, especially since he knew he wouldn't be satisfied even then. His body was very specific in its craving, only Eames would do.

In his mind's eye he could visualize the other man so perfectly, all that toned, golden flesh, so beautifully sculpted and somehow enhanced by the battle scars and tattoos that marked his torso. And those seductive, bewitching eyes, lethal when paired with sensual, full lips that made him want to beg for a taste, for the pleasure of having them close around the erection that plagued him so in the man's company.

That plagued him now, Arthur acknowledged as he slid a hand down his wet chest and under the water, wrapping his fingers around his aching flesh, moaning long and low at the pleasure/pain of it.

Bracing one hand on the back of the bath for support Arthur bit down hard on his bottom lips as he concentrated on bringing himself to climax, well aware of the fact that in between pants and groans of pleasure he murmured or cried out the former gladiator's name in desperate need. By the gods he spent far too much time doing this in order to stay somewhat sane, relieving himself with his own hand, imagining that it was Eames's fingers wrapped around him, stroking him. And he could see, so perfectly in his mind, what it would be like to be able to caress the man's flesh and make him moan and plead for more too, to pleasure Eames to the point where he stayed for him, not out of debt or duty.

Just the thought of it was enough to drive Arthur mad with desire, unaware that he was doing the same to the other man in the room.

)

As always it was Eames's name he called when Arthur came minutes later, the pleasure flowing through his system like the hottest of lava as he shuddered and moaned his release.

Yet far too soon the pleasure faded, replaced by the emptiness that always haunted him at such times when he was faced with the knowledge that he would never know his Celt the way he desired.

Cursing that fact with all his heart, Arthur got out of the bath, knowing it would neither relax nor soothe him to remain there. There would be no peaceful slumber tonight either.

His bare feet slapping against the tiles floor, Arthur had just picked up a length of cloth to dry himself off with when he felt a familiar shiver run up his spine, his whole body going on alert as he slowly turned so that he was facing towards the cause of his sudden awareness.

Situated in a shadowed corner, nearly blending in with the darkness, Arthur could just make out the other man's shape, heat flaring into his stomach even as he mentally panicked like a mad man, not knowing how long Eames had been there. He had not muffled his reactions, so lost had he been in what he was doing-how could Eames not have heard him?

"What…what are you doing in here?" He didn't bother to point out that this was one of his personal rooms and therefore not to be entered without his permission. Eames wasn't big on rules unless he was making them.

"You called for me."

Opening his mouth to say that no, he hadn't, the words died a quick death in Arthur's throat as he swallowed hard. Because as the man walked towards him, so much the predator in his every step, Arthur knew that Eames hadn't been talking about a normal summoning.

His words had deserted him, Arthur realized dimly, and the man's eyes had rooted him to the spot he currently occupied like he'd just had the misfortune to look into the eyes of Medusa.

Stopping when he was close enough to touch Eames slowly raised a hand to cup Arthur's cheek, fingers splaying out to cradle gently as he repeated his early words, his eyes conveying that he would not make another move unless the other man admitted to his desire.

"I…I called for you. Always you." Arthur forced out, gasping when he suddenly found himself being jerked into the man's arms, belatedly recalling his nakedness for a moment before his mind was wiped clear by the lips that took possession of his while the man's large hands turned to the task of hoisting him up so that he wrapped his legs around the man's waist automatically.

Drawing back once he'd kissed the man thoroughly Eames shifted his attention to Arthur's throat, marking the pale column as his while demanding that the other man tell him how much he wanted him and what he wanted him to do to him.

And hopeless to do otherwise Arthur complied, moaning his need and desires in a low, husky voice that seemed to echo in both their ears as he arched and rubbed up against Eames in a manner that couldn't be misunderstood.

)

Jerking awake with a low cry of need, Arthur automatically turned his head towards the noise that had yanked him out of the dream, some part of his brain recognizing the sound as that of his door being knocked on. It was so late though, he thought after glancing in the direction of his bedside clock. Who could-Eames. Maybe it was Eames, Arthur realized as he threw his covers off and was hurry across the room before his brain could catch up with his need. His body still burned for the man and all he could think about was continuing where they'd left off, consequences be damned.

Unlocking the door he opened it without checking to see who it was, the anticipation and need in his eyes dying a total death the moment he saw why was standing in front of his door, tired, shattered eyes meeting his without really even seeing him.

Dom.

Stepping aside to let the other man pass Arthur closed the door behind his partner, no explanation needed. They had this routine down pat, though Dom had been doing really well the last couple months. The pressure of what they'd be doing shortly was probably a factor, the other man reacting to the coming job and the trouble Mal would no doubt cause.

Sighing, knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, Arthur walked back over to his usual side of the bed, climbing into it and settling in on his side facing Dom.

"I miss her so much."

"I know you do. Now go back to sleep, I'm not going anywhere."

Reaching out Arthur started to rhythmically stroke Dom's hair, soothing him back to sleep as he tried not to think of the person he was longing for as much as his partner longed for his wife.

Which was a very…very unnerving thought to have.