For August Bingo on the Ministry of Magic Discord.
The team peel away from each other in the airport, each heading in their own direction. At least, that's how it seems to the untrained eye. A keen observer might note the way Ariadne hovers not too far from Cobb, desperate to see him make it out of the building with no trouble. They might see Yusuf, tipping his chin up at Eames in a silent acknowledgement, and Eames' toothy grin in response. And they might note Eames, trailing behind Arthur towards the nearest exit.
"You shouldn't be here," Arthur says, leaning against the taxi railing. His mouth is downturned in disapproval. "What if Fischer sees?"
Eames chuckles. "You and I both know that Fischer left in a blue Audi about five minutes ago."
Arthur hums, non-committal.
"It'll be cheaper if we share a taxi, you know," Eames continued, oozing confidence. "And more pragmatic. I know how you like to be pragmatic, Arthur."
Finally, Arthur gives him a sideways glance, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "Bold of you to assume we'll be going home together."
"Home," Eames echoes, a note of wonder in his tone. "Is that where you're taking me?"
Arthur ignores him, instead choosing to engage with a taxi driver, who quickly heaves Arthur's bag into the trunk. But instead of opening the door and slipping into the car, Arthur turns to Eames, giving him an expectant look. Joyfully, Eames shrugs his bag off his shoulder and places it next to Arthur's.
"Los Angeles isn't home," Arthur says carefully. "But I suppose you could join me at my hotel."
"And?"
"And maybe next week you could join me in Chicago."
"And then maybe next month you'll come with me to London."
And then all of Arthur's pretenses disappear, his shoulders relaxing and his mouth settling into a wide grin. All he can do is nod and reach out, intertwining his fingers through Eames'. And although he doesn't say a word, Eames hears his answer loud and clear.
Yes. To Chicago. To London. To home.