Chapter Text
Arthur had been shocked, the first time. First-ish. He’d stopped in the street and very nearly lost the man he was tailing. Eames had laughed at him, because of course he had.
“What’re you doing here,” Arthur had hissed between his teeth after making sure the mark was still occupied at the bus stop. “You’re going to ruin this.”
Eames sucked in air between his teeth and grinned, wide and unrepentant. “You say that, but now we’re having a lovely conversation, and you don’t need to watch that boring businessman.”
Arthur’s head whipped around. The man was still there. Eames laughed again and said, “Don’t worry, darling. You asked me here, to watch your back. I’m here.”
Arthur glowers, even as his heart races and a chill comes across him. “I did not do that.”
Eames doesn’t look bothered, just amused. “Didn’t you?”
-
The last-ish time is in America. Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, a town only of note for its singular university and vaguely historic downtown. Arthur’s spent so long dealing in dreams that it feels like it should’ve happened somewhere grander, more fitting of their fantastical profession. But they’re in Lewisburg.
Eames sits on the quad, staring up at the formidable library tower. “I never went to university,” he says off-handedly when Arthur sits down. Gently, because he’s tired of fighting this. Softly, because he’s going to lose it anyway.
“I know, Eames,” Arthur responds quietly. Eames doesn’t look at him, but Arthur is watching. Sees the wistful tilt of his eyes. Hears a dreamy affect to his voice.
“Think I should try? This whole dreaming business is fun and all, but, could be a good break.”
They’ve had this conversation before. Arthur’s sure of it. But he just says, “Stay a little longer,” and Eames does.
-
The real last time, the real first time, is in England. Eames’s dream begins falling apart while they’re still on the job.
“Uh,” Eames says, uncharacteristically nervous. There’s a bead of sweat trailing down his brow.
“Eames?” Arthur asks.
“I don’t know,” Eames says. His eyes dart back and forth. “I don’t think-”
He collapses, then, but Arthur doesn’t even have time to shout. He’s barely widened his eyes when Eames sits upright, breath heavy. “Woah,” Eames pants. He looks up at Arthur, smiling. “Weird.”
Arthur gapes at him, but he’s already waking up. He thinks, for a moment, he sees two of them. The Eames on the ground, eyes wide, and the Eames sitting up, grinning.
Arthur’s eyes snap open, Cobol’s once-heir and his men standing over him, scowling. Eames is there too. Bloody gunshot wound in his chest.
But after everyone is gone, Eames stays. Arthur doesn’t let him go.