Arthur tapped the thick card ticket against his fingers, drumming it at a steady pace as he observed the queue stretching on at either side of him. It was an interesting mixture of slightly older man and women, dressed for the function of keeping warm rather than an evening at the theatre, as well as a flurry of hipsters who seemed to adjust their wide rimmed glasses or stroke their thick, lumberjack-esque beards in unison. On either front, Arthur in his smart work suit and with his cleanly shaven face, felt entirely out of place.
But he wouldn't go as far as to say that he was regretting the decision to go and watch Eames in his play, in fact, all things aside, he was truly looking forward to it.
At first, he had almost forgotten about it, although not entirely, he knew there was something he was forgetting, he just wasn't sure what it was exactly. It was only when Arthur had gotten back from work one evening, late, and found the ticket to the show folded in his wallet -when paying for a hugely overpriced Thai takeout- that he realised just what had been playing on his mind.
He saw no reason why he shouldn't go, it was something different to do a city he didn't know all that well, he wasn't burdened with work that evening and the ticket had been free, a gift, from an actor in the production no less.
Arthur sighed at the thought of Eames, he was frustrated by the Brit's tendency to make anyone like him, annoyingly even Arthur himself he had admitted after much rumination on the subject.
He shook his head, bringing himself back to the moment, finding that the bustling line had started to crowd closer to the front doors,
Arthur followed them, passing a poster for the play as he went- he half expected to see Eames on it, having the man on his mind- and soon enough he was passing into the foyer, slipping by the other slow moving patrons. After another half an hour of being pushed about, Arthur had his ticket checked, and was directed to his seat, which to his surprise was as close to the stage as the second row, giving him a good view of everything, he then settled, taking off his smart jacket, and watched as the other spectators filed into their seats, talking amongst themselves.
To his intrigue, the row in front of him was soon occupied by more individuals dressed like himself, in neat suits that was. He realised immediately why that was: they were critics and reviewers, ready to scrutinise the play.
Once the aisles were filled, the lights dimmed dramatically and the thick, dust coated curtains dressing the stage parted, revealing three hideous witches gathered around a broiling pot that spilled dry ice mist,
Shrugging his shoulders and sinking further into his seat, Arthur got comfortable, setting his focus upon the tragic story of MacBeth unfolding before him, vaguely wondering when it was that Eames would show himself.
0o0o0
It wasn't until act two, scene three that the man himself appeared on stage, dressed in clothing of the period, predominantly made from black and grey materials,
"Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, that you do lie so late?" he asked, addressing the Porter.
Arthur couldn't help but crack a small smile as he watched Eames. He seemed to be the only none American actor in the production, meaning that his Scottish accent actually sounded as such, and not like a slightly unsure Irishman.
More notably however, his acting ability was fantastic, and Arthur found himself completely immersed in the play, regardless of the fact that he had indeed read MacBeth before, and as such knew the end game,
Before long, the ravenette couldn't even imagine anyone else playing Lord MacDuff, and by the final scene, and Eames' return to the stage holding a replica of the lead actors head, Arthur had almost entirely forgotten that he was watching a play- he wouldn't have even cared if Eames had truly killed 'MacBeth'.
After all the actors returned to the stage, they were given a standing ovation, contributed to enthusiastically by Arthur of course, and after they departed and the lights raised once again, he immediately stood again, grabbing his blazer and programme.
0o0o0
Arthur found himself stalling at the dressing room door, his hands static at his sides as he looked at the strip of masking tape bearing Eames' name that was plastered across it,
'T. Eames'.
With a shake of his head, he licked his bottom lip and lifted his hand decisively, knocking three times resolutely against the wood,
After just a few seconds, it opened, revealing Eames stooped in the doorway, his free hand working at drying his neck with a towel, and his hair mussed and dripping,
"Oh-" Arthur said, backing away a little at being faced with Eames' bare chest.
But the Brit looked thrilled, "You came!" he cheered, standing straight and pursuing the man out into the corridor.
To the ravenette's utter shock, he was then enveloped into a tight hug from the other man,
"You actually came to see me, that's brilliant" he laughed as they parted, going back to drying his neck,
"Well you gave me the ticket" Arthur shrugged, intending on averting his eyes, only to find them being caught instead by the largest of the tattoo's decorating Eames' chest,
It depicted both a comedy and a tragedy mask, with the words 'Smile now, Cry later' etched around them,
Eames hadn't seemed to notice however, "Come in, come in" he said, beckoning in the American,
Arthur nodded and followed him into the dressing room, gazing about it as he went.
It was a comfortably large room with a dressing table, a rack with a sparse amount of clothes hanging from it, a lounge seat and a standing partition, another door was set into the far wall, leading into a small bathroom,
"Close the door if you don't mind" Eames said heading to the partition, tossing the towel over it as he went, "And take a seat, I'm just going to get changed",
The ravenette did as he was told, and by the time he sat on the lounger, the other man had disappeared behind the partition.
"So, what did you think?" Eames asked after a moment, the trousers he had been wearing joining the towel on the top of the wooden divider,
"You were fantastic" Arthur answered, nodding, seeing no reason to spare the truth,
"Thanks" he laughed, "I really am glad you came",
"So am I" he agreed.
To say that the American was feeling uncomfortable would be somewhat of an understatement.
Eames was a pleasant man, this was indisputable, but Arthur hardly knew him, and now he was sat in his dressing room, waiting for him to get changed- he could very well have been naked behind the thin wooden partition, only five feet away,
Arthur blushed and looked instead to the other side of the room.
He caught his own reflection in the lightbulb bordered mirror and saw that some of his hair had fallen from its usual neat swoop,
With a gentle sigh the ravenette lifted one hand to brush it back into place, squinting a little to get a clear view of himself in the mirror that was ten feet away. It was only when he was satisfied with his tidied appearance that Arthur noticed what else the mirror was reflecting, making his cheeks flush even darker.
He couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed sooner, as while he was only reflected in about a third of the mirror, Eames took up perhaps a whole half of it.
The American had hardly had the time to inspect Eames' tattoo's earlier, but now he could at the very least see one crossing his shoulder blade clearly. It was thick and black, tribal in design and bold, whilst still oddly elegant and beautiful. Arthur had never thought much of tattoos, not of getting one himself, nor of other people's, but he had to admit that Eames' were unique and intriguing, he would even say that he wouldn't mind giving them a closer look…
He quickly averted his eyes again,
"I won't be another minute darling!" Eames then called after a moment, "Just trying to find my belt" he chuckled,
"Don't worry about it" Arthur replied, standing from the lounger quickly and turning his back on the mirror, he then winced and set about wiping his uncomfortably sweating hands on his jacket, having only noticed now how clammy they felt.
"All done" Eames then said,
The other man turned back to find that the Brit had stepped out from behind the partition, now fully dressed.
To his great surprise however, the actor was dressed in a fine three-piece suit, each piece of which actually matching one another, it was charcoal black and the shirt, with its top two, black buttons undone, was pristine white.
"Shall we go?" he then asked, gathering a smart looking, and very long coat from the back of his dressing table chair, along with an umbrella that he hooked on the crook of his elbow,
"What?" Arthur replied, raising an eyebrow at him,
"I thought we could go for a drink. There's a nice pub around the corner, not too far from the real thing too" the blonde answered,
"The real thing?" the other said, an amused smile starting to turn his lips up, the embarrassment from only a few moments earlier now almost entirely forgotten.
"A pub back home" Eames smirked, "A real pub",
"I see" the ravenette chuckled,
"Interested?"
"Sure" Arthur nodded, shrugging softly,
"Right this way then darling" Eames said, opening the dressing room door and gesturing out into the corridor.
0o0o0
Arthur watched as a gentle stream of water trickled gracefully from the spout of rustic copper jug, falling into the glass before him, the amber liquid already inside swirling and bubbling as it mixed with the water, the oily drink softening,
"Watering down my drink?" he asked, looking up at Eames who was the one pouring the water, his eyebrow arching and a grin spreading over his face, "So you're not trying to get me drunk?",
The Brit smirked as he lowered the jug back down to the bar top, "Nothing like that" he said taking up the glass instead and twisting it in hand, making the contents whirl and mix, "Sometimes whiskeys taste better with just a little bit of water in, go on, give it a try" he concluded, nodding at the glass.
Arthur stared at him for a moment longer, musing at his educated tone when he spoke on the topic, he then nodded however and took the glass, pausing briefly to smell the drink within, noting that it smelt of the sea, and the earth, but no sea or earth he'd encountered before. The man then lifted the glass to his lips and took a long sip of the whiskey, revelling in the gentle burn, that spread across his tongue as he did. He then washed the drink about his mouth, delighting in the salty flavour, before swallowing it, feeling the scorch sinking down his throat once more,
"And?" Eames asked, watching him carefully,
Arthur let out one long breath as he looked over the glass again, putting it back on the bar, "That was very good",
"I told you" the blonde chuckled, now placing his attention on his own drink.
"You seem to know a lot about this" The American commented, observing as the other drank his whiskey,
"About what?" Eames asked with a satisfied sigh once he'd swallowed the mouthful of alcohol, glancing back across the bar to him,
"Whiskey" the ravenette answered,
"Oh yeah, us Brit's start drinking from an early age" he said with a chuckle,
"Yeah?" Arthur spluttered, unable to stop himself from laughing at the idea.
"The drinking age is younger in Europe, didn't you know?" the blonde smirked, lifting his drink once more,
The other man didn't answer, and instead watched as Eames finished his drink, "Tell me about it? England, your home?",
"Oh, not a huge amount to tell I'm afraid" he replied, signalling the bartender to refill his drink, "Just a simple childhood growing up in Hammersmith, that's in London. It was me, my mum and my sister most of the time. I went to acting school when I was seventeen, was in a few low budget films, but then turned to theatre after doing some English courses. Worked my way up, got some good reviews, and then eventually moved here when I had the money. The rest, as they say, is history" he concluded, glancing over at his one man captive audience,
"You have a sister?" Arthur asked, immediately feeling ridiculous for not having a better observation.
"Yeah, a younger sister, Amelia, she'll be leaving university soon actually, graduating" Eames nodded, "You must have gone, to university?",
"Oh, yeah, Columbia" the architect nodded,
The Brit's eyes widened, "Columbia? That's pretty prestigious, isn't it?",
Arthur's blush as he busied himself with his drink once again was as much an answer as the man needed however.
"How about you? Where did you grow up? Got any siblings?" Eames asked after a moment, having stifled a laugh at his overtly embarrassed reaction,
"No, it was just me and my parents, we lived in LA" The ravenette then shrugged, "They always said they were going to have another kid, but after fifteen years of raising me, they were too old for it really",
"Must've been nice having all the attention though" the other man laughed.
"Feeling a little spurned are you?" Arthur scoffed, "Did the younger sibling get all your mom's time?",
Eames' face then fell slightly, his eyes focusing on his once again empty glass, "No actually… I- I had a little trouble for a few years growing up a-and, and my mum had to take some time off work to look after me. Amelia was fine, got ignored a little bit though",
The American could almost feel the air between them drop by a few degrees as the other man spoke, the words filling him with an odd sense of dread.
"What kind of trouble?" he asked softly,
Eames shrugged, "What other kind of trouble does a ruffian teen get into?" he said with sardonic laugh, "Drugs, alcohol, that sort of stuff" he then shrugged again, "I only drink on special occasions now, and I'll have a cigar every now and again, couldn't quite give up the smoking, so I thought I may as well do it in style" shrugging, her then added: "It looks especially good at the poker tables when I indulge in my other little addiction too" as an after thought,
Arthur considered the new information for a second, before a warm smile spread onto his face again, "So this is a special occasion then?".
"What?" the Brit asked in return, finally looking at him again,
"You're drinking, must mean this is a special occasion, right?" the ravenette smirked, lifting his whiskey,
Eames laughed, "Yeah, yeah it is darling" and with that he raised his own glass, clinking it gently against Arthur's with a broad beam now curving his lips.
0o0o0
Arthur laughed heartily as he walked alongside Eames down the corridor of the hotel he was staying in.
They'd spent a further hour in the bar, drinking them dry of the more than slightly overpriced whiskey that they'd taken a liking to, and then they'd hung around outside for another half hour, smoking and talking in the centre of the quiet street, illuminated by the sickly orange street lights as the smoke hung around them in a close, thick cloud. Eames on cigars, and Arthur on menthol cigarettes as always.
After that, when the temperature had dropped, Eames had said to call it a night, but offered to walk Arthur back to his hotel. At first the American had insisted that he could make it, but one slight drunken slip over a cobble stone had suggested otherwise, and they resolved to walk together in the end.
"I will send you the tickets, I promise" Eames nodded,
"And I'd love you to, all I'm saying, is that I move around for work a lot, so you might have trouble finding me" Arthur replied, his hand slipping into his pocket as he subconsciously searched for his keys, knowing that his door wasn't far off now,
"And I'm saying, I have my ways! I'll be able to get them to you!" the Brit insisted,
"I'd like to see that" the other man laughed,
"Well just wait, it'll happen" Eames assured him.
"Right, right" the ravenette nodded, finally finding the key between his wallet and cigarette case, he then came to a stop at the door labelled 427, the other man pausing beside him too,
"This it then?" he asked, looking the door up and down,
"Yeah, this is it" Arthur replied, pushing the key into the lock and turning it.
The door gave and opened against his weight, and the man took one step inside, before turning back to face Eames, remaining half out in the hallway,
"You know, to find me, you're going to have to know my last name" the American said, leaning on the door, his hand absently twisting the handle back and forth.
"I suppose I will" he replied, laughing gently, "Go on then, what is it?"
Arthur couldn't help but blush, as he realised the situation he had just gotten himself into,
"What?" Eames asked, now beaming wildly, "You brought it up! What is it? Tell me",
"It's Darling" he answered, his cheeks burning red,
"W-wait. Darling? Your name is Arthur Darling?" the other man responded, blinking with confusion as he spoke, "And I've been calling you-" he then paused and put his hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh.
Arthur had moved his gaze down to his shoes, but by the time Eames had finished laughing, he looked at him once more, to find that he was now giving him a warm smile,
"What a fantastic coincidence" the blonde nodded, "And what a fantastic name" he added "'Arthur Darling', like something from a story book",
Immediately the American was set at ease, and he even chuckled a little in return,
"I had a wonderful evening" the Brit then smiled, pushing his hands into his trouser pockets,
"Me too, really, it was great" he agreed, nodding.
"We'll do it again next time we're in the same city" and with that, Eames leant in and pressed a small kiss to Arthur's cheek, in fact, it was hardly a kiss, it was as close to a 'peck on the cheek' as Arthur had ever experienced,
"Sounds like a plan" the ravenette nodded, swallowing, "Goodnight",
"Goodnight" he nodded, turning to start back down the corridor.
Arthur stayed in the door way however, leaning on the frame, he then winced as the question he wished to ask overcame him, and it spilled clumsily from his mouth, "Was that -the kiss- like an eccentric actor thing, or an 'I like you' kind of thing?",
Eames paused, having only gotten two steps away, and he turned, shrugging softly, "That's just what I do to say goodbye to someone" he replied, sauntering forward,
"Oh" the American said, feeling like an idiot for having even commented on it,
"Someone I like very much" Eames added, now smiling brightly,
"Oh" Arthur repeated.
He then left the doorway and closed the gap between them, taking Eames' cheek in hand and guiding him into a kiss directly on the lips,
The blonde reacted instantly, placing both hands on Arthur's hips, and pressing his lips further against his,
They kissed a few more times to follow, with shorter, sharper movements, and then parted, moving away from one another a little.
"Goodnight" Eames nodded again, his hands finding their way back into his pockets,
"Goodnight" Arthur replied, stepping back into his doorway, "You want to come in?" he then asked, hardly missing a beat,
"Yes" the other man nodded, approaching once more,
"Good, get the door" the American said, disappearing into the room, closely pursued by the Brit, a deep flush now set across his cheek.
A/N- Chapter 2 was updated just to fix a couple of tiny things, but it's basically the same piece.