Tweak

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Tweak says, "don't underestimate evil muns"

Arthur (the_pointman) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-02-01 19:47:00

Entry tags:

WHO: Eames & Arthur
WHAT: Arthur's hating wearing the same thing everyday and is willing to sacrifice style for comfort.
WHEN: Tuesday, February 1st
WHERE: Eames' apartment
RATING: PG-13, language most likely
STATUS: Complete

Getting a short break to himself while Ariadne was in the apartment with Phillipa, Arthur was set on getting a bit of variety in his clothing. Even if it meant asking Eames for something. Anything.

Stepping out into the hallway Arthur was already cursing himself for thinking about wearing Eames' clothes. Simply for the fact that his style at times was downright odd, though he'd never say it to the man's face. Eames had some out there shirts in that closet of his back home. But he pushed them aside as he stood in front of the Forger's door, knocking a few times in hopes the man was back from class.

Arthur leaned back against the wall behind him as he waited. The normally smooth and stiff shirt he wore had become slightly rumpled from over washing and lack of starch. His vest had seen some seriously better days. But thankfully Arthur's tie was intact, grumbling about it and how much Armani ties cost as the door in front of him opened.

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dream_bigger
2011-02-02 01:58 am UTC (link)

"Hmm?" Eames was busy with making two mugs of tea, then realised what Arthur was asking and took the glasses off. "Oh. I don't wear glasses. Andrew does, but I'm only just home from work. Why, do you like them?" he asked, then turned round to throw two tea-bags in the bin.

"Go on ahead and sit. And I don't know, I haven't seen him yet. He might be in his room, writing delightful verses for yet more Hallmark Moments. You never know."

He followed after Arthur, most definitely not allowing himself to look down at the Point Man's gorgeous arse, and then set both mugs on the coffee table. Then he cleared away his preliminary sketches for his next painting, since they were taking up most of the table. "Here you go," he said as he pushed one of the mugs over towards Arthur, then lifted his own and sat back on the couch. "So, what's prompted this visit?"

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the_pointman
2011-02-02 02:22 am UTC (link)

"Andrew, huh? What did you go with for the last name?" His attention was grabbed by one of the man's drawings, drawing it into his lap as he sank into the couch.

Arthur eyes didn't divert from the sketch, he'd remembered the ones he'd caught the Forger doing on some of their first jobs. Eames had gotten better. A lot better. He knew it shouldn't have surprised him, "You've gotten better. A lot better. No offense to Finn but I think I like this better then his greeting cards."

Reaching out, he set the drawing back on the table, and picked up the mug. His fingers wrapped around the sides, letting his cool fingers warm, "I need a favor."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-02 02:48 am UTC (link)

"Earnshaw. And I'm glad to see I've improved against your oh-so-exacting standards. They've had my work in the Guggenheim for years, amongst other places, but approval from Arthur? I have reached the pinnacle of my art career, I shall never paint again!" He was smiling as he said this, sprawling slightly against the cushions, but his heart really wasn't into it at all. He was worn out from the weekend, and still felt slightly wrung out after the headache that had lingered on until just before lunchtime.

He raised an eyebrow at Arthur's request, and kept up the pretence. "I see, I see. By offering praise, I should now feel as if I should grant you this favour, as a way of thanking you. Do go on, darling," he said, and told himself that the minute hesitation before the word 'darling' was not obviously noticeable to anyone other than himself.

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the_pointman
2011-02-02 05:18 pm UTC (link)

"I was referring to your own work, not recreations," Arthur did his best to hide a smug smile behind the hot cup of tea he brought to his lips, "Your own work was always better then you thought."

Taking a sip, Arthur seemed to sink farther back into the couch. His tight and stiff posture softened when he took another. This was pretty darn good tea, and the thought of nabbing some (despite how Eames would probably just give him some) was rather tempting.

"I.." He paused, feeling foolish asking for something so simple, but he wasn't sure if Eames would be getting a kick out of him asking, "I need clothes. Just enough to get me through the next two days. Crowley's got me coming in tomorrow morning for work, and walking around in the same suit every day is, well.."

Tiresome? Unsanitary? "Boring. Don't be too shocked, I do enjoy some variety in my life."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-02 09:29 pm UTC (link)

Eames blinked. Arthur could not possibly be suggesting what it sounded like.

He sniffed his tea in case Finn had done something odd with the teabags and Eames was now in the middle of a rather vivid and incredibly realistic hallucination. It just smelt of tea with a spot of milk, which was perfectly normal.

He considered shouting for Morpheus, just in case he'd been kidnapped and stuck in a dream. But he could remember every step of the way home and he knew where he was and what was going on. Just to be on the safe side, he held up a hand and then quickly checked his totem. Huh.

"I don't quite understand. Variety for you is choosing between Earl Grey or Darjeeling. Blue biro or black. Dark grey socks with blue trim or black socks with grey trim. It is not, and has never been 'Eames, lend me some clothes'. Oh, fuck me, this isn't another one of those alternate versions of people experiments, is it? Are you ill, Arthur? Is that it? Are you feverish?"

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the_pointman
2011-02-02 10:34 pm UTC (link)

Arthur's brow crinkled, "When I'm forced to choose between what I wore eight hours prior or go naked I'm forced into choosing variety."

Setting the cup down, Arthur was slightly determined to head back to his apartment. He'd be stripping down to his briefs yet again simply to do the same load of laundry he'd done over the past five days. And no matter how many times he washed it, it still felt dirty.

"Forget it. Thanks for the tea though," he said as he stood, straightening his loosened tie.

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dream_bigger
2011-02-02 10:48 pm UTC (link)

Oh dear Lord, Naked Arthur...

Snapping out of it, Eames blinked a second time as Arthur stood up, then scrambled to his feet himself. "What? Don't be stupid, Arthur. I'm bound to have something. Actually, I still have the clothes from when I wasn't myself for a few weeks. I wasn't quite as skinny as you, but... Well, I couldn't wear them now. You can have a look and see what you think."

He started towards his bedroom, part of him expecting Arthur to follow after him automatically since it was half his room as well, then stopped and looked around. "Well?"

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the_pointman
2011-02-03 03:37 am UTC (link)

While he followed, Arthur made sure to leave a few feet between them as he slipped into Eames' room. The familiar smell hit him in a way he wasn't expecting. He figured he might feel a little more anxious or awkward, but he seemed to relax more. The familiarity was calming.

Moving past Eames, Arthur moved to the man's closet, looking at the still a size to large shirts he had to offer. Quirking his mouth slightly to the side in thought, Arthur tugged on his tie. And then untied it completely.

The vest came next which he quickly folded in half and set down on the edge of Eames dresser as it was the closest surface to him. Arthur looked down as he unbuttoned his sad looking excuse for a dress shirt. It had all but lost its shape in the collar. He already knew what he'd be buying with his first paycheck.

Arthur didn't bother folding the dress shirt which he laid down on top of everything else. Reaching into the wardrobe, he pulled out a red t-shirt that looked closer to his size then anything else available. Even the said alternate version of Eames was ripped. The sleeves hung loosely around his upper arms, "It's functional I suppose."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-03 11:46 pm UTC (link)

Eames almost choked on his mouthful of tea when he realised what Arthur was going to do, then turned away to put his mug on the windowsill. And so that he wasn't watching Arthur stripping in his bedroom, because that would only cause problems because it was for entirely the wrong reason. He reached over to the bedside cabinet and lifted the glass ashtray that he'd stolen from the armpit pub many many weeks ago and put it beside his mug, then started looking for his cigarettes and lighter just so that he'd have something to do that wasn't "perv on Arthur".

He could see the small pile of clothes, though, and when he saw the shirt being abandoned, he frowned to himself and turned to look out the window, but that was no good because the window was only reflecting everything that was behind him, which was very obviously Shirtless Arthur. Shutting his eyes, he pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"There should be a pair of jeans, a few more tee-shirts, a jacket and some tracksuit bottoms in there. If you think you'll get use out of them, you might as well take them," he said, then reached into his pocket for his wallet. Lifting all the notes out, he counted maybe $100. Folding the notes in half, he paused beside Arthur to dig out the tracksuit bottoms since they were buried under other clothes and weren't instantly obvious. The money was easily slipped into Arthur's trouser pocket, quickly and carefully, and then Eames was going out to the living room again to look for his cigarettes and lighter.

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the_pointman
2011-02-04 12:14 am UTC (link)

Looking over his options and doing his best to simply ignore Eames while he did so, Arthur pulled out a few more shirts and took down the slimmest pair of jeans he could find. Removing the dress slacks, he folded them as neatly as he could before trying on the jeans. They barely clung to his hips and his belt didn't at all match what he was wearing so he'd have to deal with it later.

Despite the discomfort of wearing something out of that lovely comfort zone of three piece suits and neckties, it wasn't terrible to be wearing breathable clothes. He smoothed out the shirt he had on, noting the small stains that a normal person wouldn't have noticed for a while, if at all. It looked like grease of some kind, and Arthur thumbed over it for a moment.

Before leaving, Arthur caught himself looking at Eames's bed. And even found himself drifting a little closer to the edge, fingertips so close to brushing the comforter. His hand paused just before making contact though. As if almost touching something too hot or dangerous and realizing at the last second. Straightening his once again tight shoulders he picked up the clothing and headed out into the living room.

"Hey.." Arthur poked his head out into the living room, setting the clothes down on the coffee table, covering a few sketches, "I suppose this makes me look normal enough."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-04 12:29 am UTC (link)

Looking round from lighting up, Eames had to smile at Arthur wearing his clothes (his clothes). Hopefully it wasn't one of those manic crazy-person grins, but really, could anyone blame him? Arthur was wearing his clothes. It was probably going to take his brain a while to get past that thought.

"You look very nice, love. Not at all like a robot with a stick up its arse," he said, without even thinking about it, and then his brain caught up with his mouth and he quickly went back to lighting up his cigarette.

"So, is there anything else you need?"

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the_pointman
2011-02-04 12:37 am UTC (link)

"Hey, I look damn good when I look like a robot with a stick up it's ass, thanks."

Arthur smiled a little as he reached back over to pull up his new borrowed clothes, and to pull up the sagging corner of his jeans, "I know this is a random question but are there any parks around here? And no, I'm not asking you where the closest playground is. That happened once, it was Dom's fault, I'd had something to drink. Move on."

There was a slight bit of pink crawling up Arthur's neck to the tips of his ears, that day was not the proudest moment of his life.

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dream_bigger
2011-02-04 02:17 am UTC (link)

"That is so very true, you're correct. And there is, yes, I've spent plenty of time in the park drawing all kinds of people and scenes," he said, then laughed at Arthur's obvious embarrassment. "I hope you take note of my moving on and my saying nothing about anything involving playgrounds. Although I'm more than happy to keep going with blaming Cobb."

Blowing a lungful of smoke out into the room, Eames rubbed at his nose only to stop very quickly when he realised what he was doing.

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the_pointman
2011-02-04 02:40 am UTC (link)

"Thank you," he mumbled embarrassedly, tucking the clothes under his arm. That was the first and last time Arthur drank tequila. Vodka did him just fine on his own time though.

"You really don't like the guy, do you?" The added note Eames made about Dom made him laugh just a bit. Not that Dom didn't have his flaws, he wasn't a downright complete jerk. Well on a good day. "Try spending almost every day over the course of a year with him and then you can complain."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-04 02:55 am UTC (link)

"I think the fact that he nearly caused every single one of us to have to spend eternity with him in fucking Limbo is more than cause enough for my complaining, actually," he snapped. Huh. Obviously he was more annoyed about that than he thought, if he still reacted like that after almost six months. "As for the way he treated you, and not just in Yusuf's dream... It's beyond me how you managed to put up with him for even a week, let alone the amount of time you two spent globetrotting. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad things worked out and not just because I really wasn't fond of the idea of having scrambled eggs for brains. He got his happy ending and that's brilliant, but if I ever have to deal with him professionally again, I'm shooting him in the face. If I'm feeling generous, I might consider doing that in a dream, but only might. And I sure as fuck won't trust him."

Ranting over, he went back into the bedroom to get his mug from earlier. When he came back out of the room, he paused in the doorway and looked over at Arthur. "So I suppose that answers your question, really."

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the_pointman
2011-02-04 03:09 am UTC (link)

The moment Eames's voice raised, Arthur's jaw clenched tightly. Any sense of being relaxed or carefree had been wiped clean and his body went rigid, simply standing there in the wake of Eames's anger that was boiling over slowly. Arthur's head even dipped a little if but a mere fraction.

There were days past that Arthur had tried to sincerely rationalize Cobb's actions. He held him responsible for the things that had occurred that day, but a part of him couldn't blame him. Cobb was willing to risk everything, including everyone else, for his kids. The actions were slightly admirable, but incredibly and extremely selfish. And to top it off, Dom was the closest thing he could consider a best friend. The pair had been through some tough shit in the past, so it was hard to distance himself in that sense.

Arthur's voice was barely audible even in the now near silent room, "Yeah..."

"And now that I've.." Arthur sighed, "Ruffled your feathers, I think I'd do best to leave. Thanks again for the clothes."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-05 11:16 pm UTC (link)

Oh... shit.

Eames reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose for a moment, then looked down at his feet as he rubbed at his nose once more. "You don't have to go. I shouldn't have reacted like that, I just... Never mind. And please don't think I'm annoyed with you, because nothing could be further from the truth."

He'd crossed the room as he spoke, without even thinking about it, only to end up standing in front of Arthur. It seemed his brain had switched to autopilot without even having the common decency to let him know about it, because next thing he knew, his hand was resting on Arthur's shoulder. His thumb was absently rubbing along the Point Man's collarbone and he was mere moments away from doing something spectacularly stupid, like trying to lean in and kiss the other man. "Arthur..."

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the_pointman
2011-02-05 11:42 pm UTC (link)

Pausing at the door, Arthur watched as Eames apologized. He had every reason to be angry, and Arthur didn't blame him for that. There were days that he was glad that Cobb wasn't here for the sheer fact that Eames might actually get a wild hair and try and beat him.

Arthur could nearly feel himself taking a half a step back as Eames got close to him. Watching the Forger close that few feet between them in quick strides. Temptation came with that man being this close, it wasn't fair and Arthur had to keep himself from squirming at the touch. He wasn't entirely able to look him in the face, "Listen...It's ok. You know I don't like hearing you get angry. That's all."

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dream_bigger
2011-02-05 11:58 pm UTC (link)

Oh. Oh, right. Eames took in all the little attempts at moving away and the fact that Arthur couldn't even fucking look at him, and let his hand fall. Nothing like a swift kick to the metaphorical nuts to remind him that Arthur was still very much off-limits. "Of course. Yes. I remember," he said, careful to keep his voice low and calm.

He smiled then, because it was obvious that Arthur wanted to leave, and it would have been stupid to try and keep him there, and to make him think something was wrong. So Eames would smile and act normal. "I shan't keep you, then, if you've got people to do and things to see and all that. I hope the clothes come in handy."

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the_pointman
2011-02-06 12:08 am UTC (link)

Arthur didn't realize he was holding his breath until Eames pulled his hand away. The part of him that desperately wanted to put it back there where it used to belong was fighting tooth and nail, but what Arthur had dubbed reality kicked in.

He knew Eames could read him better then anyone, so the last thing he'd let himself do would be make eye contact. He knew how he looked and how inappropriate it was in this situation. Instead, Arthur's eyes made it about mid-chest on Eames before he nodded, "Yeah, thanks. I'll see you." He turned his head as he found his eyes creeping up further to the top of Eames' collar.

He'd done fine without him before, why was it so hard to control himself now? For the small distance Arthur was off of his normal self, it felt like a football field away. So he closed off whatever he could and headed out into the hall.

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