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Arthur had always thought it would be sunny outside, on a tepid evening, when he and Eames would kiss for the first time. Had thought of the smell of summer, of birds in the background, soft chirping of crickets everywhere. Maybe tucked away in the back of a garden, hidden from prying eyes, at some barbecue.
But things turned out differently.
It was raining and thundering, and the windows of the car were fogged up from the inside, and Arthur was in pain, damn pain, because Eames' fingers were deep in the little wound at his waist, just below the ribs, fishing out a bullet. Arthur had already half bitten off his tongue, so focused was he on being still, just breathing sharply.
But a bitten-off whimper escaped him anyway, so soft yet audible, and he rolled his eyes when he saw a narrow smile on Eames' lips.
"You can scream if you want, I know it hurts," Eames said bluntly, and Arthur let out a heated snort. He jerked as Eames' finger touched something soft inside him.
"Fuck you, Eames."
"I got it, I think. Ah, bummer we don't have tweezers. The good upholstery, the car's new. You're bleeding all over the place."
Sweat stood on Arthur's forehead, and he pressed the back of his head hard against the fogged window behind him, hissing softly. "Fuck the car, get that thing out of there, I've had enough of you being inside me."
"That I'm inside you? I thought you always wanted that," Eames joked, his fingers in the wound spreading slightly. Arthur closed his eyes. He tried to suppress the rising dizziness, the sickening feeling when Eames finally found the bullet. He exhaled deeply, through his nose, as Eames pulled it out with a slight jerk - Arthur hissed again, his eyes fixed angrily on Eames.
"You could have been more gentle."
"You like it rough, I just know it."
"You must be dreaming... ah fuck, that burns."
"I need to put alcohol on it."
"Oh no, the fuck you will. It'll heal fine like that."
Eames, already holding the bottle, grinned; he opened the cap with a deft movement, then moved a little closer to Arthur. His warm breath hit Arthur square in the face, and Arthur blinked.
"Eames, really, go away with that stuff."
"It will pass quickly, I promise."
"Eames, I dare you - you son of a-!"
As soon as the alcohol dripped on Arthur's fresh wound, there was something else there to distract him from the burning and biting pain: it was Eames' full lips breathlessly on his, kissing him, kissing him so damn hard and intimately. It rattled Arthur's entire insides, and the combination of searing pain and warm satisfaction was just.... Arthur couldn't think, returning the kiss as best he could, and pressing his forehead against Eames' as he released softly. They looked at each other, and then Eames smiled.
"Not so bad, huh?" he said, and Arthur snorted quietly.
The burning of his wound subsided as Eames pulled his hand away with the alcohol - but the dizziness in Arthur's body remained. And although he had imagined their first kiss differently - it was no less exciting and beautiful than he had hoped.