For August Bingo on the Ministry of Magic Discord.
When Eames finally convinced Arthur to take him back to his place, he had a clear idea of what he was expecting. Clean whites and steel grey, with practical but high quality and stylish furniture. A photograph or two or maybe some small architectural plans on the walls. He hadn't, however, expected this.
"Dear god." Eames reeled backwards. "What is that thing?"
Arthur followed Eames' gaze, frowning at his horrified tone. "The Age of Uncertainty by Ken Currie. It's remarkable, don't you think?"
The etching on the wall was modest in size, but impactful. It depicted a room crowded by men with sunken faces, each one appearing wounded. Their faces were pale against the dark background. All in all, Eames found it quite grotesque.
"Yeah. Remarkable," Eames echoed, still staring at the artwork hanging above the couch. "But most people just hang a nice landscape in the living room. A nice British cottage with some flowers. Some rolling hills."
"Oh." Arthur shrugged. "That doesn't really appeal to me."
"But this does?"
"It's a little more interesting, don't you think?" Arthur took off his jacket and folded it over a kitchen chair. "More of a conversation starter."
"I can't imagine those being very cheerful conversations."
"Are you seriously judging me right now?" Arthur asked, incredulous. He was working on unbuttoning his shirt and, truthfully, was disappointed that Eames was not following suit. "You finally make it past my front door, and you're critiquing my choice of décor?"
"Well, it's pretty terrible décor."
"Eames."
Eames gestured wildly at the the wall. "Seriously?"
In response, Arthur threw his trousers in Eames' direction. "Seriously."
The shock of fabric hitting him in the face shook Eames' focus. He tore his eyes away and looked at Arthur who, by now, was clad only in his underwear. The sight made Eames' grin, and he stalked across the room until he was standing in front of him.
"You won't be able to see it from the bedroom."
"Brilliant." Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur's frame, bringing their bodies closer together. "Let's go."
And as the two stumbled into the bedroom, the etching was the last thing on Eames' mind.