
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/608526.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Inception_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Arthur/Eames_(Inception), Ariadne_(Inception)/Robert_Fischer, Dom_Cobb/
      Mal_(Inception)
  Character:
      Arthur_(Inception), Eames_(Inception), Ariadne_(Inception), Dom_Cobb,
      Robert_Fischer, Nash_(Inception), Saito_(Inception), Yusuf_(Inception)
  Additional Tags:
      High_School_AU, Alternate_Universe, Bullying, not_actually_underage_but
      with_an_age_difference
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-25 Updated: 2014-01-24 Chapters: 5/6 Words: 33906
****** Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish ******
by kyrene
Summary
     Just another high school AU, rather self indulgent. This is dedicated
     to TooRational because without her encouragement and enthusiasm I
     probably wouldn't have gotten past the idea stage for this fic!
     *hearts* Happy Christmas, New Years, and birthday, my lovely!!
Notes
     Also, Many thanks to my ladies, Fyredancer and Ginandironic, for
     helping me with the high school stuff (since I was homeschooled)!
***** Chapter 1 *****
"I'm just saying," Ariadne said, a little frown creasing the skin between her
dark brows as she carefully painted Eames' fingernails a nice neutral shade of
dull slate, "That if they hadn't made it so obvious in the way they were saying
'the child' through the whole thing, I wouldn't have figured out so early on in
the movie who the real antagonist was."
Eames chuckled, shaking his head whilst carefully holding his hands still on
the tabletop through ease of long practice. "You do realize that you're more
intelligent than the average moviegoer, don't you, Ari?" he asked fondly. "Most
of them are too caught up in watching the events unfold to peg to something
like that."
"Well, it wasn't as though it was subtle," Ariadne rejoined, glancing up at him
and wrinkling her nose adorably.
"Most might argue," Eames said, shrugging. Ariadne was between coats now so he
didn't have to worry about messing up the varnish, so long as he didn't start
flailing around; which he certainly knew better than to do at this point, under
threat of the wrath of Ari.
They were at their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. It was Monday,
so everyone knew to stay a ways away, to avoid to smell of the nail enamel
Ariadne was wielding. As was the norm.
Eames wasn't sure why Ariadne felt this overwhelming need to varnish his nails
twice a week, but he knew better than to argue with her about it. After all,
Ariadne was his only friend, and Eames would put up with a lot more than bi-
weekly colouring of his nails if it made her happy. Hell, he had put up with
more. But then, she gave him so much in return.
Eames was quiet and shy even though he didn't want to be. In no small part
because he was a year younger than his classmates, out of his element, and in a
strange country. If he hadn't had Ariadne... well, he shuddered to think where
he might be.
All alone if he was lucky. Being picked on and bullied if he wasn't. He'd
already had his fair share of both, and he definitely preferred being under the
protection of Ariadne's regard.
Granted, most if not all of the school thought that he and Ariadne were dating.
Which wasn't fair to Ariadne, but she didn't seem to mind. If anyone outright
asked, Eames corrected them, of course he did. But not many people spoke to
him. Not without speaking through Ari, anyway.
Eames didn't mind. He hadn't asked to be sent to America and he hadn't really
wanted to jump ahead a year, but he hadn't really wanted to be bored out of his
mind during class either.
So he'd done the equivalent of skipping from year ten in secondary school to
being a sophomore in high school and that had made everything a little weird
and scary. But through it all Ariadne had been by his side. And so Eames would
do just about anything for her. Up to and including letting her varnish his
nails and dress him up like what the Americans called a "hipster" and what
Eames probably would have labeled "bohemian" if he'd been asked.
He didn't wear skinny jeans because he didn't like denim crushing his junk, but
he did prefer jeans that were more fitted than most American high school
student of the masculine persuasion chose. And he had to admit that he was
awkwardly attached to the shirts and sweaters with sleeves that went down to
his knuckles, often with a hole for the thumb. He drew the line at scarves,
though, even when the weather was cool enough to warrant one.
Of course, a large part of his clothing choices were possibly influenced by the
fact that he was gay. Eames didn't buy into stereotypes as a rule, but they
usually existed for a reason, and he did take more care in his appearance than
a majority of his male classmates.
That was part of what made it so ironic and ridiculous that everyone considered
he and Ariadne a couple. Just because they shared lunches and went to movies
together and were comfortable in one another's company to the point that they
might as well have been siblings....
Actually, Ariadne did have a sibling; an older brother named Arthur. Who was
about the most beautiful guy Eames had ever seen. If Ariadne had been a boy and
had been a year older, taller, just as lean, a little less warm, a little more
reserved, she'd have been Arthur. That was part of the appeal, Eames supposed.
Not that Arthur wasn't his own person, because he most certainly was. But it
didn't matter, did it, because Arthur despised Eames.
And that was the fault of one Dominic Cobb. Who was Arthur's best friend. And
who had pretty much shattered Eames when he'd first come to this school, back
before Ariadne had taken him under her wing.
But those were times Eames preferred not to dwell on. Dom had seduced him, with
his handsome features, bright blue eyes, and perfect blonde hair, taken the
better part of Eames' innocence -- or at least ignorance and inexperience -- in
a handful of deliciously sordid trysts, then turned around and claimed that
Eames had been stalking him, obsessing over him, and generally making a
nuisance of himself.
Arthur was really the only one who'd paid attention and bought into that lie,
but he was the last person Eames would have wanted to do so. Because he kind
of... actually really liked Arthur. He didn't just have a crush on him. Arthur
was a genuinely nice guy. He was like Ariadne that way. Only he had been turned
against Eames before he could even get to know him and give him a chance.
Oh, he wasn't mean about it. He was polite. But cool. Chillingly cool. Always
with the sense that he was judging Eames from behind the teeth of his smile.
And since Eames was best friends with Ariadne, he couldn't very well pretend to
himself that he was imagining this treatment.
No one else really paid any attention to the rumors Dom had started; mainly
because they all thought Eames was dating Ariadne. And Ari was the one person -
- outside of Dom and Eames, of course -- who knew the whole truth. Eames had
cracked early on and spilled the whole shameful story to her.
Ariadne was, needless to say, incredibly angry at Dom. She was of the opinion
that Eames ought to tell the whole world what had really happened. But Eames
put his foot down to that. As though he wanted everyone to know he'd been used
and tossed aside by one of the most popular kids in school. There was no way he
could come out of that scenario looking anything but pathetic.
In truth, Eames had never gotten obsessive. He'd been ready to fall in love
with Dom when he'd had the older boy's full attention, it was true, because if
there was one thing Dom was it was charismatic. But once Dom had turned icy on
him, started blowing him off and turning him away, Eames had gotten the hint
right off and had stepped away immediately. He wasn't stupid and he wasn't
going to cling where he was unwanted. He'd been hurt, it was true, but he was a
realist at heart, and he'd known he and Dom had never had any love between
them. Just sex.
Well. He knew that after the fact. But he liked to think that it applied to the
entire time they're been fooling around. It made him seem less pitiable, less
as though Dom had taken advantage of him.
Thankfully Dom hadn't taken Eames' actual virginity. But they'd done just about
everything else, and Eames had given Dom all of his other firsts. That still
ached a little, that it had been Dom who'd been his first kiss, the first guy
to touch his prick, who'd been the first cock Eames had ever sucked.... And now
he was Dominic Cobb, who snubbed Eames in the hallways and was dating Mallory
Miles.
Mal was beautiful and poised and French. She was also a senior, eighteen years
old, the same as Dom, rather than a weedy fifteen year old like Eames was.
Eames really liked her. She was intelligent and although she could be a little
snobby -- only natural considering that she was not only French but also
beautiful -- she had a kind heart.
Eames felt, a little bitterly, that she was far better than Dom deserved. But
he tried not to hold grudges, and the two of them did make a gorgeous couple.
Ariadne was far more upset about the whole thing than Eames was and far more
inclined to hold a grudge. She liked Mal as well, and she definitely thought
Mal was better than Dom deserved. But Eames had made her promise not to share
his humiliation, and so she couldn't say anything to Mal any more than she
could to her own older brother.
So Eames muddled along. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky as to have
Ariadne for a close friend, but here she was, and she didn't seem as though she
was going to be going anywhere on him. She was his best friend, and though she
could have done far better for herself, she was unwaveringly loyal. Eames
appreciated that immensely.
Which was part of the reason he allowed her to varnish his nails on Mondays and
Thursdays. At least she went for relatively neutral shades. She never used
pink, for example, or peach, or red, and almost never any shade of purple. She
mostly stuck to greys, pale or dark blues, black, different types of green, and
the occasional metallic. It was usually chipping by the second day, but that
was why she did it all over again twice a week.
Eames supposed he might get more grief from his classmates for the coloured
nails if they didn't all think he was dating Ari. He knew some of the teachers
would give his hands strange looks from time to time. But as the habit went on
and never deviated most everyone was coming to accept it as a given.
Eames' guardian had never complained. But then, Mr. Saito was usually out of
town on business. Eames was left to the task of raising himself alone, with a
food allowance and strict instructions not to let his grades dip past a certain
point. Since Eames never did the latter and Ariadne helped him with the former,
he felt he was doing just fine. Besides, he liked Mr. Saito well enough but he
had to admit that the man intimidated him more than a bit.
Eames was damned lucky to have Ariadne. Her regard, her friendship, her
protection. It was tough being younger than everyone, from another country,
with a marked accent and bad teeth and a tendency to think of boxers when
people went on about "pants". Not to mention being gay and frowned upon by some
of the most attractive, popular people in school. If Eames had had to face all
of this alone... well, he probably would have despaired.
But he didn't need to. Even though he told her she should be dating or
otherwise branching out, Ariadne stuck close to Eames' side. In fact, he was
tentatively confident that most of the time she actually enjoyed spending time
with him.
And what was a little nail enamel between friends? Eames would actually rather
Ariadne put it on him than ask him to paint her nails, which he was convinced
he'd be awful at doing. Ariadne didn't even wear varnish herself, which Eames
found amusing and faintly ironic. Thankfully she was adept at painting his.
Twice a week and sometimes on weekends was something he could easily handle.
Especially since Ari gave so much and asked so little in return.
"Come on," Ariadne pursued, still talking about the film they'd seen the other
day. "You're of above average intelligence too, Eames; after all, they didn't
skip you ahead for no reason. Don't tell me you didn't figure it out for the
same reason I did."
Eames smiled, closed-mouthed to hide his crooked front teeth, because no matter
how many times Ariadne told him they were "charming" he was self conscious.
Here in America, anyway, where everyone had perfect teeth or braces on so that
they would have perfect teeth someday. Eames' two top front teeth were
completely out of whack, and the ragged jumble of his lower teeth didn't bear
thinking on.
"I might have done," he said mildly, quirking one brow. "If you hadn't been
whispering it in my ear the first moment you caught on."
Ariadne snorted, then gave him a fond smile, her own teeth flashing, white and
straight and perfect, just like everything else about her. She had a lovely
smile, bright brown eyes, pink cheeks, a heart-shaped face, soft dark hair, and
a sweet petite little figure that was just beginning to blossom into womanhood.
She was everything Eames would have wanted if he'd been straight, and she was
everything he was supposed to want. He sometimes wondered how anyone with eyes
could possibly think she was dating him, but mostly he tried not to dwell on
it, and just turned himself to enjoying her company.
Like when they went to see films together and she insisted on guessing things
halfway through and sharing with him. She wouldn't be Ariadne if she didn't do
that. And Eames loved her just the way she was.
"You love me," she informed him, opening the bottle of varnish once again, as
she unknowingly echoed his thoughts almost exactly. But they were pretty
simpatico most the time, so he wasn't really startled by this. He had used to
be, but they were both well accustomed to it by now.
"You know I do," he replied, giving her a small smile and a quick wink.
And, okay, maybe there were reasons people assumed they were dating. But,
seriously, if any of them bothered to ask, Eames quickly informed them what was
what. That they were only friends and that Ariadne was a more wonderful friend
than Eames could ever have hoped to deserve.
That was the least he could do for Ariadne, as much as she had done for him.
Considering everything she continued to do.
That, and allow her to varnish his nails on the regular. Even when she chose an
outlandish, ungodly colour such as ochre.
He was actually quite relieved that it was a neutral slate today. He wasn't
always so fortunate. But it was okay; this was just one of the ways Ariadne
showed she cared. And Eames was perfectly fine with that.
***
"Mom, can Eames come over for dinner tonight?"
Arthur rolled his eyes, but since he was facing the refrigerator neither his
mother nor Ariadne saw and called him on it.
He swore, Ari asked to have Eames over at least three times a week, and she did
it just to make him uncomfortable.
Well, okay, the truth was that Eames was Ari's best friend, for some reason.
But Dom was Arthur's best friend, and he hadn't been over to dinner more than
once or twice in the past year. Ariadne was so bossy and controlling. Arthur
thought that Eames was lucky he wasn't actually her boyfriend, the way everyone
in school assumed. If he had been, he'd be even more browbeaten.
Not that Arthur cared about what happened to Eames or how his younger sister
treated her best friend. Eames wasn't his business. Though Arthur would have
been thrilled if Ariadne had never brought him home again. That was unlikely to
ever happen, however.
"Has he run out of allowance money again?" their Mom asked, concerned rather
than disapproving because she had a huge soft spot for Eames and would have had
him living with them if she'd had her way. She was always muttering about how
it was criminal, the way Mr. Saito neglected his charge the way he did.
"Not yet," Ariadne replied, shaking her head and perching on a stool that was
almost as tall as she was, at the kitchen island. Their mother was at the
stove. She was making dinner, but Arthur had just come from swim practice and
he didn't think he'd last that long without a snack of some sort. Hence the
searching in the fridge. He certainly wasn't eavesdropping.
"I notice you took an extra large lunch today," their mother said, turning and
fixing Ariadne with a sharp look. Arthur saw this, as he gave up on the
contents of the fridge and went over to get himself a banana out of the bowl
near his sister's elbow. And an apple. And then a second banana.
Ariadne sighed. "He forgets to buy lunch foods or pack them, and I haven't had
time to drag him to the grocery store lately. You know he's too young to drive.
He might have enough to make himself dinner tonight, but I'm not sure. I'd
rather just ask him to eat here, then stop at the store while I'm taking him
home to make sure he has groceries."
Personally, Arthur thought that Eames ought to be more responsible and make
sure he took care of himself, not depend on Ariadne so much. Yeah Eames was
only fifteen, but Arthur had been pretty responsible when he'd been fifteen. He
was sure that even if he hadn't had his Mom to take care of him, he'd have
managed to take care of himself.
"Quit it."
It took him a moment to realize Ariadne was talking to him. "What?" he asked,
blinking.
She scowled at him. "I can tell what you're thinking by your constipated look.
Quit it."
"Shut up," Arthur replied eloquently. He was a junior and Ari was only a
sophomore, not to mention that he was her older brother; she shouldn't be
sassing him like this.
"Kids," their Mom said quellingly, and because she was their mother they both
quieted down. Though Ari did stick her tongue out at Arthur one last time and
he had to practically burst a blood vessel to restrain himself from doing the
same in kind.
"Yes, Eames can come for dinner," their mother told Ariadne. "I'm putting it in
the oven now, so you have about twenty-five minutes to go and pick him up. He
can stay for a little while after to do homework with you, if you guys want...
but if you're taking him shopping on your way driving him home, then you'd
better start out a little early. I want you back before it gets too dark out.
And, Arthur, stop making that face."
Arthur shot his Mom a betrayed look. She wasn't even turned in their direction
any longer, was back at work at the stove. It wasn't fair; he hadn't said a
single word against having Eames over for dinner no matter how uncomfortable it
made him, no matter how often it happened.
"Whatever," he muttered, hating how it made him sound sullen and immature, but
unable to help himself.
Ariadne looked at him as though he'd somehow hurt her feelings as she slid off
the stool. He never could figure out why she was so fixated on and protective
of Eames. He'd told her what Dom had told him, but it hadn't swayed her opinion
in the slightest. In fact, she'd looked as though she was about to explode, and
had rushed out of the room. For a brief period Arthur had thought this meant
that she'd taken his warning under advisement and was going to stop having
anything to do with Eames, but then the opposite of that had happened. He
should have known.
And their mother adored Eames, thought he was cute and sweet and vulnerable.
She wanted to feed him and coddle him and she never complained no matter how
often Ari brought him home.
Their Dad was a little less swayed. He treated Eames with quiet politeness.
Which Arthur tried to emulate, even though he knew more about Eames'
personality than his father did.
Arthur did try. He wasn't a complete asshole, after all. And while Eames had
gone all needy-creeper on Dom, he hadn't done anything dangerous, like
attacking Dom or trying to self-harm in the name of unrequited love or
something.
In fact, if Arthur hadn't known better, if he hadn't been Dom's best friend, he
might almost have liked Eames. He was quiet, polite, intelligent, and
occasionally self-effacing. He put up with Ari's more ridiculous demands
without a word of protest. He helped with the dishes and Arthur was pretty sure
he was the reason Ariadne was getting a passing grade in algebra, despite the
way he said that he was no good at "maths".
And that was another thing that Arthur would have found charming if he hadn't
known how Eames really was; the way he was so unutterably British. Or was it
English? At any rate, the accent killed. Especially delivered in Eames low,
slightly hoarse tones. He didn't talk much, but when he did it was like his
voice was caressing Arthur's ears.
He was attractive as well, Arthur had to admit. With big gray eyes, plush pink
lips, and sharp cheekbones. He didn't hold himself with confidence, but he was
definitely good looking.
Well, all of that was completely beside the point. Arthur was always on alert
for Eames to begin fixating on his family -- any member individually or all of
them as a whole -- the way he'd fixated on Dom, even though so far it hadn't
happened. Eames was pretty dependent on Ari, it was true, but she seemed even
more devoted to him in return and it didn't seem to be a romantic or sexual
fixation.
Eames was in the house more often than Arthur was comfortable with, seeing as
he was Dom's best friend. But he tried to be as polite as possible. And, yeah,
as Ariadne accused, it often came off a little cold and borderline rude. But
what else did she expect? She was the one who kept trying to shove Eames into a
nonexistent hole in the family where he absolutely wasn't going to fit.
Well, Eames was going to be coming for dinner again tonight, and Arthur still
smelled like chlorine. Time to go and shower, so that he was at his best when
the blight turned up.
And, okay, that was a little harsh, he thought, pulling a face at himself as he
made his way to his room, crunching into his appropriated apple. But it wasn't
as though he could help the way he felt.
And there was evidently no way to keep Ariadne from bringing Eames home like a
sorry little puppy.
If there had been, Arthur would have managed it by now.
***
Mr. Saito's house was big and elegant, and Ariadne didn't like a single part of
it outside of Eames' bedroom suite and the kitchen.
Since Arthur was such a jerk about Eames coming over to dinner, she'd taken to
inviting herself into Eames' home as often as possible, making sure that he got
enough to eat. He was too skinny, and she didn't like it.
Granted, he was only fifteen. And she was really one to talk. But she and
Arthur were both naturally lean; one had only to look at both their parents to
recognize this fact. Ariadne didn't know what Eames' father or mother looked
like, but she knew too skinny when she saw it, and Eames was too skinny.
He was only a little taller than her, but she'd have bet just about anything
that he was poised on the verge of a growth spurt, and he might even end up as
tall as her brother. His body was probably just waiting to get the right
nutrients. So she was going to do what she could to help with that.
Eames was all bony elbows under the deceptively oversized shirts that he wore,
she knew. As though she couldn't see it in his sharp chin and sharper
cheekbones. Whatever baby fat he'd still had when he'd first arrived in
America, it had all burned away by now. Of course it would help if he could
manage to feed himself on a regular basis. But without Ariadne around to remind
him, he tended to forget and skip entire meals.
He was still gorgeous, she thought. But it was kind of like the way Arthur was
gorgeous. Ariadne was aware of the fact, but Arthur was her brother, and Eames
might as well be her brother.
Eames had long lashes and full lips, a wild light in his eyes and a crooked
smile that never failed to make her smile back when he let it shine through;
something he did rarely. Arthur was more reserved, and he looked more than a
little like Ari herself, with dark hair and eyes, a round nose, and somewhat
thin lips. Arthur was way more angular, but Ariadne knew that plenty of girls
thought he was plenty good looking. Eames didn't attract anywhere near as much
attention, but he seemed to go out of his way to avoid anyone's regard.
And, of course, there was the fact that they were both completely homosexual.
Ariadne knew that Eames was aware of that about himself. He'd told her as much,
and she would guard this information with her life, even though the majority of
their classmates would probably have been okay with it. She wasn't so sure
about the teachers, though. Her Dad had guessed, but she didn't know about her
Mom or Arthur.
Then there was Arthur. He'd figured it out abut himself pretty early on and had
never tried to hide that fact from anyone. Their parents, Ariadne any
classmates who asked. Ariadne kind of thought that Arthur had expected her to
be more shocked when she'd found out than she had been, but she'd known almost
before he had. Her gaydar was quite well developed, thank you very much.
That was how she'd known about Eames, even before he'd told about what had
happened with Dom. That was also how she knew that Robert Fischer wasn't gay,
despite being as pretty as he was handsome, and painfully fastidious in his
manners and clothing. Not that it was any of Ariadne's business whether Fischer
was gay or straight.... But she did think he was cute.
At ant rate, she knew objectively that Eames was very good looking, but it only
affected her as much as it did to know that her older brother was good looking
too. She was more concerned with the fact that Eames needed to gain at least
ten pounds, probably more like twenty. That was why she almost always took a
large enough lunch to share with her to school, and that was why she was in Mr.
Saito's kitchen right now, making sure that Eames had something to eat for
dinner before she went home to have her own meal.
"You don't have to," Eames tried to protest, but she fixed him with a stern
expression that she was sure her mother would have been proud of, and continued
what she was doing.
"When you start taking proper care of yourself, I'll stop doing it for you,"
she said reprovingly, feeling a little bad about the way Eames flushed and
turned his gaze down, looking miserable. But not bad enough to stop what she
was doing.
Eames licked his lips, something that would have looked pornographic if-- Oh,
who was she kidding? Eames was gay and he was like a brother to her, and she
still found it to be downright pornographic. She wasn't made of stone, after
all. Or blind.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, plucking at the material of his sweater over one of
his bony elbows.
"Don't be sorry, be healthy," she instructed as kindly as she was able. She
tried to channel her mother when she was babying Eames, but she also tried to
do it without sounding as though she was being condescending. "I just want to
make sure you eat enough, Eames."
Suddenly he was right behind her, hugging her around the waist and leaning
around to kiss her cheek. "Thank you," he husked in her ear before letting go.
Ariadne swallowed tightly around the lump in her throat. Eames was so rarely
physically demonstrative like that. He didn't mind when she wrapped her arms
around him or climbed on his lap or flopped on top of him when he was on the
sofa or her bed, but he almost never initiated any physical contact. She felt
honored, and touched, and her heart hurt.
She really didn't understand why everyone at school didn't adore Eames. She
sure did. He was the cutest, sweetest thing. Sure, there was the nasty rumor
Dom had tried to start, that her own brother had bought into, but for all the
people who thought that she and Eames were a couple there couldn't have been
very many giving that story credence, right? Which was as it should be, but why
didn't more of them notice how smart and adorable Eames was? And, yes, she
would admit it, sometimes he could be kind of sexy, even if he wasn't her type
at all.
To be fair, he wasn't not her type. Eames was pretty, the same way Robert
Fischer was pretty, and he was smart and funny and had a generous heart. But
there was just something different. Aside from and in addition to the fact that
he felt like a sibling to her.
Well, there was the gay thing. Maybe that was it. And he was a year younger
than she was. There wasn't a huge difference between, say, sixteen and
seventeen, but fifteen and sixteen just seemed... wrong. Ariadne knew she ought
to be ashamed of herself for feeling that way when it was Eames, the guy, who
was younger. Because it wasn't as though he wasn't mature for his age.
She really should just focus on the whole, gay and brother-feeling parts, she
decided, giving the soup she was making Eames a brisk stir.
"Now, this should be filling," she lectured Eames as he peered into the pot,
sniffing with evident appreciation. "And it should last you for a few days,
long enough for you to get sick of it. Just make sure you stir it up real good
every time you go to get some, because all the rice and tomatoes will have sunk
to the bottom. Otherwise you end up with it being too thin at first, and way
too thick toward the end."
"I think I know how to handle soup," Eames informed her, sounding aloof and a
little affronted. But his eyes were twinkling when he said it, and he smiled at
her shyly.
Seriously. How did he not have a boyfriend, Ariadne wondered.
But, then again, how did she not have a boyfriend either? She was smart and
sassy and cute, she knew it. And her odds were better than Eames', since
heterosexuality was more the norm than homosexuality, even in these days of
open-mindedness and bi-sexuality.
Well, it was a mystery for the ages. It probably didn't help that she didn't go
out of her way to declare to all and sundry that she and Eames were not dating.
She just didn't see the point, when they never had been, but it might be
limiting both their prospects.
On the other hand, it kept people off of Eames' back, she thought. And anyone
who got to know them well enough to want to date them would pick up pretty
quickly on the fact that they weren't together.
Things were okay the way they were, Ariadne decided fondly, leaning over to
return the kiss Eames had given her, bussing his heat-pinked cheek. Why mess
with a good thing?
As long as she had Eames and he had her, she'd be perfectly happy.
Besides, Eames was really too young to be getting involved with anyone. After
all, look at the disaster that had been his short-lived relationship with one
Dominic Cobb. The jerk.
Nope, Ariadne wasn't going to let anyone get away with pulling anything like
that on Eames. Ever again.
Eames was hers, and he was under her protection. Anyone who didn't get that
could just fuck right off.
***
Eames' nails were burgundy today, Arthur noted. Mainly because he was wondering
why on Earth his sister had chosen that color. It wasn't very masculine....
Then again, it did match and compliment the oxblood red sweater that Eames had
been wearing before he'd come into the locker room to change.
Normally Arthur did his best to ignore Eames when they were in the same space
at school. Since it didn't happen very often, this was easily enough
accomplished. It was mainly when Ariadne brought Eames home that Arthur had to
look at him, occasionally talk to him.
And it seemed as though Ariadne was bringing Eames home less often recently.
Or, at least, Arthur hadn't seen him in a while.
Eames was still at the age where a week or two could actually make a
difference. Arthur noted absently, glancing over out of the corner of his eye
as Eames changed, that he looked different, and that it was for the better. He
hadn't put on a lot of weight, but he was no longer quite the scrawny bag of
bones that Arthur remembered. He thought he'd caught Ari bitching with their
mother about Eames' weight recently, so it was highly probable that his sister
had been working away at fattening him up.
Or, well, there was no fat about it. The slight weight that Eames had put on
had all been channeled into making muscle. He was still thin, so far from built
that it was laughable, but it was clear that he was making an effort. Arthur
would give him that much.
Arthur was doing his absolute best to not take notice of Eames as he got
dressed, hurrying so he could get out of the locker room, but he couldn't help
looking. And he evidently wasn't the only one.
Nash was an asshole, it was generally agreed. Not enough so that he was a
pariah, but Arthur certainly did his best to have nothing to do with the guy
and he knew he wasn't the only one. Nash was in some of Arthur's classes and he
managed to alienate the majority of their teachers, even when he was obviously
trying to ingratiate himself with them. He always looked like he needed a
shower, even right after he'd had one, and his ears actually made Arthur's look
normal sized, which was saying something.
Arthur would have felt sorry for him if he'd been at all deserving of such
pity. But Nash was a perfectly balanced and completely obnoxious combination of
arrogance and low self esteem that so often came as one and worked so awfully
together. He had confidence but it was in the wrong things, and he was so needy
that he ended up lashing out at anyone who might otherwise be inclined to offer
him anything.
And now Arthur had officially spent too much time psychoanalyzing Nash. Ugh.
But the problem wasn't Nash, exactly. It was in the attention that Nash was
paying Eames. Not pleasant attention. If he was even capable of such a thing.
Well, he tended to suck up to Arthur and Cobb, wanting to join in their social
circle when he hadn't earned the right.
He was pretty much doing the opposite of that to Eames.
He probably sensed weakness, Arthur thought scornfully, listening with half an
ear. As though picking on an underclassman was anything other than a show of
one's own weakness. But, of course, Nash didn't have the mental or social
acumen to recognize this.
"Nice polish there," Nash was taunting, and it made Arthur wince internally to
hear that Nash was echoing his own sentiments, however vaguely. "Does your
girlfriend like you looking like a fag?"
Arthur scowled at that slur. Nash must have forgotten he was here, because
Arthur didn't make any secret of the fact that he was gay, and even Nash ought
to know better than to use a word like that... well, at all, but especially
where Arthur could hear him. And Arthur certainly wasn't the only homosexual in
school, even if he was probably the one who was the most open about that fact.
He was so angry that he didn't catch Eames' response. It was spoken in a low
tone, and Arthur thought that Eames sounded as though he was remaining calm and
collected. He was unabashedly listening in now. Because not only was Nash
flinging around a word that made Arthur want to break his nose, he was also
talking about Arthur's baby sister. He must not have noticed that Arthur was
here, because even Nash wasn't that stupid.
Probably.
"You know the only reason she has anything to do with you is because she feels
sorry for you," Nash sneered, doing his best to loom over Eames when he was
pretty gawky himself. "She'll tell anyone who asks her."
Arthur frowned slightly. He wouldn't put it that way, and he was pretty sure
Ariadne didn't see it that way, and wouldn't have said that. At least not in
those words.
But Eames didn't try to defend himself. He just shrugged. "True enough," he
agreed, even though Arthur still thought it was bull, the way Nash had phrased
it. "But tell me something, Nash," Eames continued, quirking one brow in a
quizzical expression, "Was the last girl you went out on one date with even
half as pretty as Ariadne? Or have you ever even gone out on a date with a
girl?"
Arthur couldn't help it; he wasn't supposed to have been listening but a sharp
snort of humor and derision burst out of him. And he wasn't the only one. There
were other guys in the locker room, both sophomores and juniors, and while no
one had been interfering, enough of them had caught this crack that a small
wave of amusement made its way through the room.
Nash's face darkened with embarrassment and anger and he was suddenly slamming
Eames back into his own locker. Before he could swing his raised hand toward
Eames -- and was he really going to hit him, in front of witnesses, in the
middle of school? -- a hand suddenly locked on his elbow and held his fist
back.
"I think that's enough, Nash," Robert Fischer said evenly, though there was
something dangerous blazing in his pale blue eyes. "You're getting a little too
close to insulting Ariadne, and you've definitely insulted Eames here. Some
people might start to think you're being unfriendly."
Nash scowled at Robert, but even though he was quite pretty -- with insane
cheekbones, crystal blue eyes, full lips, and a hint of freckles across the
bridge of his nose -- Robert Fischer was at least the same size as Nash, and so
there was no way Nash would be able to take him down. Robert was on the track
team and he was easily more athletic than Nash. He would almost definitely win
if it came to a fight, and then his father might weigh in. And Maurice Fischer
had a lot more pull than Nash's father did.
Everyone knew that Nash was outclassed here, and fortunately Nash recognized it
too.
Without a word of apology, not that anyone would have expected it from him,
Nash slunk away and out of the locker room. Arthur made a mental note to have a
word with him later regarding the things he'd said about Ariadne. They hadn't
exactly been offensive... but they hadn't been far off.
"Thanks," Eames mumbled, blushing as he glanced at Robert through his long
lashes, his expression a little embarrassed and overwhelmingly grateful. He
looked unbearably young and achingly vulnerable, and Arthur frowned a little.
Those were words he could actually apply to Eames more often than he liked,
knowing the truth of things the way he did.
"It was no problem," Robert said, smiling serenely at Eames and squeezing his
shoulder. Arthur didn't know Robert very well, even though they were in a lot
of the same classes, but he was obviously a conscientious guy. Since he'd come
to Eames' defense and all.
So, crisis averted and Eames was okay. He'd held his own verbally and Robert
had kept him safe physically.
Arthur felt a little ashamed, though, as he left the locker room. Sure, he
didn't really like Eames, but he felt bad that he'd just stood there, listening
without acting, and that it had been Fischer who had stepped in and saved the
day. No matter what Eames had done to Dom, he'd deserved better than complete
inaction.
Arthur didn't feel any need to be a hero; he just liked knowing he was a decent
guy.
And right now he wasn't feeling very decent.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Eames really hated when Ariadne dragged him to parties. He always felt awkward
and out of place, always felt as though disaster of some sort was hanging over
his head, even though it was always okay and Ari always took care of him.
But she shouldn't need to, should she? She should be enjoying herself at any
given party, not babysitting him. Even when there were plenty of sophomores at
whatever party it was, there were almost no freshmen. Though Eames was in the
same class as the older kids, he was still a year younger, having been
advanced, and he never felt it more than he did in social settings.
Ari never treated him like a child, of course. And she was only one year older.
But that didn't make Eames any more comfortable when she invited him along with
her. Which she did most of the time; possibly in some misguided attempt to get
him to have fun. As though a raucous gathering was his idea of "fun".
It was no wonder people thought they were dating, Eames thought despairingly as
they showed up at the current get-together... well, together.
They were at the Fischer house. Or, as Eames would say, manor. Ariadne called
it a mansion, but Robert just called it home. His father was out of town on
business, and that was cause enough for celebration as far as Robert was
concerned.
And, actually, Eames felt a little better about coming to this party than he
did to most others. He still owed Robert for saving him from Nash in the locker
room the other day. And he liked Robert. Or, at least, he wanted a chance to
get to know Robert and hopefully come to like him. Because anyone who stood up
for those smaller and weaker than themselves had to be a hearty helping of all
right in Eames' book.
Robert was easy on the eyes as well. Not that Eames was interested in him that
way, of course. Eames and Ariadne had discussed the guys at school from time to
time, and Ari had said that Robert was for sure straight. And she was never
wrong about things like that. Eames was pretty sure she'd guessed about him
even before he had told her about his tryst with Dom, even before he'd
confessed his own definite leanings.
At any rate, just because Eames wasn't interested in someone, that didn't mean
he couldn't appreciate a nice view. He wasn't really attracted to females, but
he found Ariadne to be incredibly aesthetically pleasing. He'd sketched her, he
intended to someday get her to sit for him as he did a likeness in oils, and it
was nice sometimes to just sit and look at her when they were hanging out.
There wasn't anything wrong with that, and it was actually probably more
healthy than being a giant horny arsehole about everyone. Even though Eames was
about at the age to start sexualizing everything.
He was smart, though, and he was in control of himself. And Robert was a nice
guy in addition to being pretty and intelligent. That was why Eames had no
qualms about introducing him to Ariadne -- not that they all didn't know one
another, but Eames had described to Ari how Robert had come to his rescue
during the Nash debacle -- and that was why he was completely unsurprised and
in fact completely delighted when the two of them really hit it off.
They pretty much spent the rest of Robert's party sitting side by side and
talking. And since Ari was his ride, Eames stayed nearby, but he did try his
best to stay out of their way.
He got a few pitying glances, which made him angry, but he swallowed that down
and presented a stiff upper lip, so to speak. He and Ariadne weren't dating,
and they'd both tell anyone who asked. Ari was perfectly free to chat up a good
looking guy, and Eames would do nothing but encourage her in this. She'd been
spending time alone with him exclusively for far too long, and she deserved a
boyfriend, more than any other girl Eames knew.
Which might have been assuming a little too much.... Except for the way that
Ariadne raved about Robert all the way home after the party ended. And the way
they gravitated to each other at school. And the fact that they started to go
out on what could only be termed actual dates.
Eames was thrilled. Yes, Ariadne was spending less time with him, but that was
okay. Robert made her happy, made her face glow, and Eames only wanted her
happiness, honestly. She still made sure to include Eames in some of her
activities; especially if Robert couldn't make it. She never once dropped him
as though he didn't matter, and it was actually quite skillful the way she was
able to balance a budding, intense relationship with Robert and her steady,
comfortable friendship with Eames.
Of course, everyone at school acted as though Eames had been dumped. Which was
just ridiculous, since he and Ari had never been together in the first place.
But Eames was adept at ignoring whispers. Some of the looks he got were more
pitying than derisive, and those actually made him even more upset, but overall
he tried to remain above at all.
It was no one's business whether he was with Ariadne -- which he had only been
as a friend -- whether he minded her being with Robert now -- which he
absolutely didn't -- and what he spent his time doing when Ari was off with
Robert. He was thrilled for her, and nothing made him happier than to see the
light in her eyes when she was talking to Robert, or even just talking about
him.
Eames was so happy for Ariadne and so intent on ignoring the reaction of the
general populace, in fact, that he forgot about one very important thing.
Whilst most of the kids in school viewed him with varying combinations and
levels of scorn, pity, or indifference, there were those with a more vested
interest. Or, well, maybe only one.
But Nash had a grudge and he was a right bastard. And now that Ariadne wasn't
with Eames each and every moment of the school day, this gave Nash more
opportunities to corner and accost Eames in a private venue.
If Eames had been forewarned of this, he'd never have left the safety of his
peers. But their flat and pitying looks got to be too much for him at times,
and he was inclined to seek out solitude whilst Ariadne and Robert were having
some of the alone-together time they so richly deserved.
Ariadne had been keeping him safe for so long that Eames had almost forgotten
what it was like to need protection, to need that buffer.
It would really have been nice to have gone without a reminder, Eames thought.
Especially in the shape of Nash's knuckles.
***
Arthur was a bit nonplussed by the way his sister had completely fallen head
over heels for Robert Fischer, but he wasn't going to complain.
Granted, he was an older brother, so he was pretty sure that no one would ever
be good enough for Ari. But Robert came close. He was almost as intelligent as
Ari was, he was good looking, dressed well, was wealthy, drove safely.... There
wasn't much not to like, aside from his emotional issues with his father, and
most people had that or something similar.
Also, Arthur still hadn't forgotten that Robert had been the first to leap to
Eames' defense in the locker room that one time, chasing Nash off. That had won
him a lot of points, and Arthur was fairly certain that it was part of the
reason Ariadne had given Robert a chance in the first place.
Arthur still felt a little bad about his own inaction. Granted, Robert had
acted before Arthur had been able to. But Nash had been insulting both Eames
and Ari, and Arthur had just stood there eavesdropping, not doing or saying
anything. It made him feel guilty and he didn't care for that feeling. No
matter his own personal opinion of Eames, bullying was bullying, and Arthur had
always thought that he had a zero tolerance for bullies, no matter who they
were picking on.
He hadn't really felt the need for a chance at a do-over, though. And certainly
not when it meant blood and pain for anyone.
But it almost seemed like fate when he and Dom were walking down an empty
corridor next to the school library and they basically stumbled across an
altercation.
Well, the word "altercation" generally indicated some back and forth. And maybe
this conflict had started out that way, but by the time Arthur and Dom came
upon Nash and Eames, the older boy definitely had the upper hand and there
wasn't a whole lot of arguing going on.
Eames was bleeding, and even if he wasn't Arthur's favorite person this made
him see red; figuratively as well as literally. Eames looked tiny and helpless,
huddled defensively against the wall, hands protecting his face, but from the
blood streaked across his upper lip and spilling down his chin, it was a little
late for that.
Despite his history with Eames, Dom felt the same way about bullies that Arthur
did, and he was the one who reached down and yanked Nash off of the younger boy
with powerful, broad hands, throwing him across the hall so that he slammed
into the opposite wall.
Arthur and Dom would both want to be on the right side of this when the
Principal invariably looked into it, but they couldn't help it if a few blows
landed on Nash's head and torso before he managed to pull himself away and
flee.
"Eames, are you okay?" Dom asked, as they crouched before the boy. Arthur was a
little startled by the real concern in Dom's voice, but he was more focused on
the fact that Eames seemed to be having trouble catching his breath, and there
was a lot of blood streaming from his nose. Arthur hoped it wasn't broken,
hoped that Nash hadn't cracked any ribs.
"We'd better get him to the Nurse's Office," he suggested before Eames could
answer, glancing at Dom.
"No, 'm fine," Eames slurred, and whether he had a broken nose or not, he
definitely had a split lip. He was clearly not "fine" and Arthur wasn't about
to let him get away with claiming he was.
"Come on," he said, more to Dom than to Eames, as he gripped one of Eames'
upper arms and tried to urge him to stand.
He was actually taken completely by surprise when Dom shouldered him out of the
way and collected Eames into his arms, lifting him and beginning to carry him
down the hall.
"All right. That works too," Arthur mumbled, raising one brow as he stood and
followed. Someone was going to have to report to the Principal, but he wanted
to go with Dom and Eames to the Nurse's Office, wanted to make sure Eames was
in good hands and that he would be okay.
Eames protested a couple of times while Dom carted him through the empty halls,
but then he had to lift his shirt to try and staunch the flow of blood from his
face and his words were muffled. It wasn't as though Dom or Arthur would have
listened to him anyway, Arthur thought with grim humor. Not the shape Eames was
in. He really was being ridiculous, resisting going to the Nurse's Office like
this.
The school nurse was a placid, cheerful man who insisted on being called just-
Yusuf, though Arthur was unclear as to whether this was his first or last name.
He raised his brows, his round, brown face fixing in a look of faint surprise
as Dom carried a bleeding and quietly complaining Eames into his office. It was
probably the most animated Arthur had ever seen him -- aside from his usual
pleasant half smile -- and it didn't last long.
"Set him there," Yusuf instructed, waving a hand toward the cot in the center
of the room. "Is anyone else hurt?"
Arthur pulled a bitter face. "Nash probably has a few bruises," he stated
honestly. "But I don't think anyone should care much about that."
Yusuf nodded and his dark brown eyes were bright even while the rest of him
remained calm and collected as he moved to examine Eames.
Now that he was actually here in the Nurse's Office all of the fight seemed to
go out of Eames, and he looked up at Yusuf with big, pained eyes. He looked all
of ten years old for a moment, and Arthur actually felt really bad for him.
"Who's going to go and talk to the Principal?" Yusuf queried, shooting both
Arthur and Dom a pointed look over his shoulder.
"I'll stay here," Arthur spoke up, casting a look at Dom. He didn't think Dom
wanted to spend any more time with Eames than he had to, considering what had
happened between them. Besides; " I'll text Ari, if I can do it in any way that
won't have her freaking out."
Dom nodded absently, his brows were knit as he watched Yusuf begin fussing over
Eames, mopping up the blood all over his lower face and checking for damage.
"She'll freak out no matter what," Dom said, his blue eyes strangely intent as
he stared at Eames, not even glancing in Arthur's direction even though he was
obviously talking to him. "Especially once she sees what Nash did."
Arthur sighed, because it was true. Eames looked like he was on the verge of
bursting into tears, though whether it was over the thought of Ariadne being
upset on his behalf or whether it was due to the pain of Yusuf pressing gently
at the bridge of his nose, Arthur wasn't sure. Honestly, it was most likely to
be both.
"Get going," Arthur prodded Dom. Principal Browning liked both of them so he'd
undoubtedly take their side over Nash's, even though he seemed to have
something against Eames. Arthur suspected it had to do with Mr. Saito being
Eames' guardian, since Eames himself had never been anything but a quiet and
conscientious student.
Dom moved to do as directed, then paused with his hand on the doorknob.
"Eames," he said, low but intent, and his voice carried perfectly well across
the small room. Yusuf was at his cabinet, getting gauze or something, and Eames
had a clear line of sight to meet Dom's bright blue eyes. Which he did, some
sort of powerful emotion in his own clear grey gaze.
"I'm sorry," Dom continued, and he meant the apology, it was clear to read in
his voice. "I'm really sorry. For all of it."
Eames' face went blank, as though it had shut down, and before he could respond
Dom was gone, out of the room. But Dom had said it and they had all heard it.
And while Yusuf was ignoring the sudden tension in the room, and Eames was very
determinedly not looking in Arthur's direction, Arthur suddenly had a feeling
as though the ground had opened at his feet, and he knew he had an awful lot to
think about.
Because Arthur wasn't stupid, and he had been Dom's best friend for a long
time. He was pretty sure he could parse the meaning behind Dom's heartfelt
apology without even straining his brain.
The thing was, he knew how Dominic Cobb could be. In fact, one might say that
he had firsthand experience, in the most literal sense.
Hands had definitely been involved, along with some sweat, heavy breathing, and
almost embarrassingly fast ejaculation. But then, they were teenage boys.
Arthur had never taken it for more than it had been and it hadn't happened more
than the one time. Dom might fool around with guys as well as girls, but when
it came to dating and relationships, he was strictly into females all the way.
If he dwelled on this fact, Arthur supposed that he considered it to be a quirk
rather than a flaw. And he had certainly never come close to having his heart
broken. He was well aware of his own sexual preference, but he and Dom had been
friends too long and he knew Dom too well to have been at any risk of falling
in love. Even though Dom was incredibly good looking, handsome to the point of
being pretty.
So he could see where Eames might have been swept up in this beautiful
intensity... especially being two years younger than Arthur and three years
younger than Dom.
Eames himself was quite pretty. Well, not right now, with his nose, mouth, and
chin a blood-smeared mess. But Arthur knew that those lips were plush and
looked as though they'd been built for cocksucking. Back when Eames had first
arrived, before he'd become friends with Ari, Eames had been less skinny, still
sporting a little bit of baby fat but heading toward full adolescence with a
certain amount of inborn grace.
Arthur remembering thinking that Eames was quite lovely for a barely fifteen
year old. Evidently Dom had thought the same. Never mind that Dom was eighteen
-- though he may still have been seventeen at the time, like that made it any
better -- and ought to have known better and ought to have been mature and
responsible enough to leave Eames alone.
After all, Arthur knew full well that when he wanted something, Dom had no
shame.
Evidently he had no qualms about lying his ass off either, Arthur thought
angrily, as he seated himself on a stool and sent Ariadne a brusque text; Eames
is in the nurse's office. You should come if you can.
Everything that Arthur thought he knew about Eames was wrong, he realized, and
every time he'd treated him poorly suddenly felt like the hugest asshole move
on the planet. God! Dom had a lot to answer for, but it was Arthur who was left
feeling like the bad guy.
Well, it had to be worse for Eames, Arthur thought with a tremendous amount of
guilt weighing on him. All this time Arthur had treated Eames like he was the
one in the wrong, and all along it had been Eames who had been the victim.
This thought led Arthur to the realization that Eames probably didn't really
want Arthur here in the room with him, when he had been such a dick to him in
the past. So the minute Ariadne roared into the nurse's office, eyes blazing
with worry and righteous fury -- Robert in tow, his own expression more
concerned than anything else -- Arthur made his excuses and slipped out the
door.
He had a lot to do to make things up to Eames, if that was even possible at
this point. And he dearly wanted to give Dom Cobb an earful.
Only it wasn't any of his business. And he supposed that there was the outside
chance that he had guessed wrong. Still, he didn't think he had done so. Not
the way Ariadne had always been so explosive in her defense of Eames, the way
she'd always glared at Dom as though he'd personally offended her. Not knowing
Dom the way Arthur did.
Arthur was sure that there was virtually no chance he'd come to the wrong
conclusion. But he would ask Ari about it tonight, once the furor had died down
and they were at home.
Right now, Arthur should probably go and report in with Principal Browning. Not
because he didn't trust Dom to have charmed the guy around his finger, but
because he wanted to make sure that there was no way Nash got out of being
punished for what he'd done to Eames.
After all the shit he'd put Eames through, it was really the least Arthur could
do.
Besides, he had to do something. He couldn't just stand around and twiddle his
thumbs.
***
Ariadne was a bundle of volatile emotions, and Robert really was her rock.
She was livid that Nash had hurt her Eames, had split his lip and bloodied his
nose and given him a knot on the back of his head. It was fortunate that his
nose wasn't broken, but that was small comfort when his beautiful face was
going to be black-and-blue and crimson for days, weeks, maybe longer.
She felt a tremendous amount of guilt for having left Eames on his own, so that
Nash had been able to get his slimy hands on him. Eames was absolutely not
blaming her for this, had told her so in as many words because he'd anticipated
her reaction, but that did nothing to absolve her of her feelings of being at
fault.
And she throbbed with sympathetic pain for Eames and his poor battered face.
Her baby, her best friend, the boy she considered to be her other brother, and
he was hurt, and there was nothing she could do to make him heal faster.
She felt something over the fact that Dom and Arthur had been the ones to come
to Eames' aid, but she wasn't quite sure what that something was. It didn't
make up for the way Dom had debauched Eames or the way Arthur had always been
so rude to him, but it had been good of them.
She had to make sure that Robert didn't think that she in any way blamed him or
their budding relationship for the fact that Eames had been alone when Nash had
attacked him. Because she didn't. She should have made sure that Eames wasn't
alone, but that was entirely separate from Robert.
Beside which, Eames ought to have been able to walk anywhere in the school,
alone or in company, without being set upon by asshole jerks with an irrational
grudge.
By the time she got home Ariadne was exhausted. She'd driven Eames home because
no way was he taking the bus in his state. She'd fussed over him, had made sure
he'd eaten and then took the pain pills the school nurse had given him -- which
she was pretty sure required a prescription, but if Yusuf wanted to render
Eames pain-free she wasn't about to narc him out -- and she'd wanted to spend
the night, but Eames had insisted, already drowsy from the pain meds, that he'd
be fine and that he wanted her to go home.
Ariadne figured he was probably a little humiliated over having been beaten so
soundly by Nash -- never mind that the older teen was both bigger and stronger
than Eames -- and so she didn't argue. Even though she felt like he shouldn't
be alone right now.
But he was sound asleep before she let herself out of the house, and even with
the fact that Eames was hurt, she didn't think her parents would liked the idea
of her spending the night alone with a boy. Even if he was gay and her best
friend in the world. And it was too late to ask if Eames could stay in one of
their guest rooms, since he was already sunk deep in a drugged slumber. So she
resigned herself to a stressful evening and sleepless night, and resolved to be
at Eames' place first thing in the morning so that he didn't have to spend any
more time alone than absolutely necessary.
She'd been prepared to tell her parents all about what had happened at the
dinner table -- with Arthur's help, since he'd been more directly involved than
she had been -- and so they had done. She'd known she was going to crash hard
once it was time to head for bed. But she hadn't expect that Arthur would come
knocking on her bedroom door before she had even gotten in her pajamas.
"What?" she greeted inelegantly as she let him in her bedroom. She was tired
and she just wanted to get Robert on video chat and talk to him for a while,
long enough that he might manage to make her feel better, then fall asleep.
And Arthur looked all super-serious. She knew her brother, so she knew when
something was bothering him. And right now something was definitely bothering
him.
"So, I owe Eames an apology, don't I," he said without preamble, and he spoke
it as a statement rather than a question.
"Yes," Ariadne responded immediately, then, "Wait, what?" She blinked. "You're
the one who stopped Nash from beating him up. You and Dom, right?"
Arthur grimaced and sank down to sit in Ariadne's chair at her desk. She
frowned and flopped on the edge of her bed, peeling off her socks.
"I meant for...." Arthur flapped one large hand as though this was supposed to
explain anything. Ariadne raised her brows, waiting.
Arthur sighed. "When we took Eames to the Nurse's Office today, Dom told Eames
he was sorry," he said.
Ariadne wrinkled her nose in distaste, the way she usually did when her brother
mentioned his best friend. "So?"
"So," Arthur's forehead furrowed. "So it's not like he was apologizing for
stopping Nash. I'm not dumb, Ari. I can pretty much guess why Dom was
apologizing."
This wasn't anything Ariadne had been expecting, but she thought that it might
go a long way toward explaining why Eames had been so quiet ever since she'd
joined him in the Nurse's Office. Well, aside from the split lip and the
bruises on his ribs and his sore nose, of course. But emotional turmoil made as
much sense as physical discomfort and pain.
"Ugh," she said, making a face that she readily admitted was unattractive.
There was only her brother here to see it and she was thinking unattractive
thoughts right now. "Dom can manage to make things worse even when he's trying
to be nice."
Arthur didn't defend Dom; in fact he nodded in agreement with Ariadne. Which
surprised her, it really did.
"So what actually happened?" he asked curiously. "I can make a good guess,
but...."
Ariadne bit her lip and fidgeted. "I can't tell you," she said ruefully. "Eames
made me swear not to ever tell anyone, and I'm pretty sure you count. In fact,
I'd be willing to bet you're pretty high on the list of people he wouldn't want
knowing the details."
Arthur frowned more deeply, but not in a way that told her he was angry at her.
"I can respect that," he said slowly. "But can you at least tell me whether I'm
guessing right?"
Ariadne pursed her lips, thinking. Arthur hadn't told her what he had guessed,
but she didn't think she needed to ask him for specificity. All things taken
into consideration, they were probably on the same page. And it seemed as
though Arthur disapproved of Dom's actions just as much as Ariadne did.
"I can't verify anything," she said carefully, because even though she wanted
Arthur to share her outrage and to realize that Eames had been the one who'd
been hurt by Dom and not vice versa, she really, really couldn't betray Eames'
trust like that. "I promised Eames."
Arthur nodded, and he looked thoughtful. "All right. But I'm taking the fact
that you haven't offered me any refutation as a implicit sort of confirmation."
"Really?" Ariadne rolled her eyes. She'd understood every word of that, but she
still felt that Arthur was beyond pretentious for wording it the way he had
done. "Been hitting the PSAT vocab books a little too hard there, Arthur."
Arthur ignored her, and now he was frowning again. "So, the question stands. Do
I owe Eames an apology?"
"Owe him? Yes," Ariadne replied with blunt honesty, since this was a question
she could answer without giving anything away. "But I don't think you should
actually apologize."
"No?"
She shook her head, smiling a little at her brother's surprise, but mostly
concerned about Eames and his feelings. "No. If you apologize, he'll know why
you did it, and it'll embarrass him. He's already been through enough shit
thanks to Dom. You should spare him that."
"Okay," Arthur gave in easily enough. "But what about.... Ari, I think I'd like
to get to know him now. Like, really get to know him. He's your best friend and
he's a good guy. Now that I'm not being an asshole because of Dom's lies, I'd
like a chance to get to... maybe hang out with him the way you do?"
"Really?" This was more than Ariadne had expected of her brother. But she
supposed she shouldn't be so surprised. She'd only been singing Eames' praises
to her family ever since they'd first become friends. Even though he'd been
soured on Eames by stupid Dom, Arthur had heard a majority of what she'd said,
and some of it had to have processed.
And, besides, Eames was really good looking and Arthur was the kind to be
appreciative of a good looking guy who was also a sweetheart....
But before she went matchmaking, Ariadne had to make sure that Arthur deserved
Eames. It was a little strange to think of it that way when Arthur was her
brother and Eames was only her friend, even if he did feel like family. But
Eames had been hurt by Dom back when he'd been too young to know better. When
he'd definitely been too young to protect himself. And he was still so young.
Arthur was fine, he'd be fine. He was older and his heart was intact.
So, yeah. Arthur was going to have to prove himself, both as Eames' friend and
possibly as more.
It would be kind of awesome, Ariadne thought, if Arthur and Eames got together.
But that was getting ahead of herself. Right now Arthur was only asking if she
thought he could become friends with Eames. The rest of it... well, if it
happened, that could come later.
"I don't know if he's going to trust you," she said honestly, watching Arthur's
face fall and thinking that he had a much better chance because he actually,
really did care. "And I still maintain that you shouldn't apologize to him
outright. But if you start treating him the way you should have all along,
being friendly instead of cold, being nice because you want to and not out of
forced politeness...."
Arthur was nodding. "Will you put in a good word for me?" he asked, and Ariadne
smiled warmly. Sometimes he could be a blockhead but she really did love her
brother, and she wanted him to be happy.
"If I can without giving the game away or sounding too weird," she offered.
"It'll be easier the more he gets to know you. But don't be surprised if he
doesn't want to give you a chance, at least at first. There's a lot of bad
blood to overcome, after all."
"All of it my fault," Arthur bemoaned.
"Well, Dom's fault," Ariadne reminded. "But, honestly, Arthur, you should have
known better. Did you really think all this time that I'd be best friends with
Eames if he hadn't been a wonderful person?"
"I should have known better," Arthur agreed, nodding, his expression earnest.
"I do now. So hopefully I can fix things between me and Eames."
"I'll help if I can," Ariadne vowed. "But if it seems like it might mess up
things between me and Eames, you're on your own."
Arthur grinned suddenly, smiling for the first time since he'd entered her
room. "Fair enough."
"Now, get out of here," Ariadne directed, yawning widely. "I wanna get ready
for bed, talk to Robert, and then sleep."
Arthur stood and crossed to the door as directed, but he paused before leaving
the room. "Are you.... You're going over to see Eames tomorrow morning, right?"
"Too much too soon," she informed him, though she approved of his resolve.
Arthur never did do things by half measures. "Wait until the next time I have
him over, okay? And then if it doesn't make Eames too uncomfortable, you can
hang out with us a little. I'll keep us in the den for a while, since it'd be
really weird if you came into my room all of a sudden when you never have
before."
Arthur nodded, gave her a last sweet smile, and left.
Ariadne yawned again, scrubbed at her face, then changed into her pajamas as
quickly as possible. She had even more to talk to Robert about now. She'd
promised not to tell anyone about what Dom had done to Eames, true, and that
included her boyfriend as well as her brother. But that didn't mean that there
weren't other things she could talk to him about.
Like the fact that she was beginning to think that Arthur and Eames might make
a good couple.
It might seem crazy to someone who didn't know them as well as she did, but
Robert would understand, she was sure if it.
It was a great idea, almost as great as her and Robert, and if she hadn't been
so exhausted she'd have been even more excited about it. As it was, she was
suddenly consumed with the need to tell someone about it. And who better to
tell than her boyfriend?
Besides, she'd been going to talk to Robert anyway. It was the next best thing
to having him physically with her, and since she couldn't have that she could
at least see his pretty face on her computer screen before she fell asleep and
hopefully saw it some more in her dreams.
***
When Eames woke up, everything hurt. For a long moment he couldn't remember
why. Then he went to roll over, his entire face throbbed, he remembered what
had happened, and he kind of wanted to cry.
Not so much because of the pain, though that was nothing to be shrugged off. It
was only Thursday, so he couldn't stay home sick, even though he was sure that
the school nurse, Yusuf, would have supported him in this.
Mainly, he wanted to cry because he was feeling rather humiliated. Nash had
really done a number on him. True, Nash was bigger and stronger and older than
Eames, but Eames really felt as though he should have held up better. Or been
able to run faster and get away. Or something.
And then it had been Dom and Arthur who'd come to his rescue. Dom, who had done
wrong by him, and Arthur who had never given him a chance. Eames didn't really
feel like thinking good thoughts about either of them, and now he owed both of
them. He really didn't want to, but he couldn't change what had happened, and
he wasn't going to be so churlish as to ignore it.
Dom had apologized to Eames before leaving the Nurse's Office, and Eames didn't
know what to do with that. He didn't want to do anything with it, honestly, but
he didn't know whether or not ignoring what had happened was an option.
If anything the apology had made Eames feel worse. He didn't think that was
what Dom had meant when he'd done it, but that didn't really make any great
difference.
Eames was just pulling himself together enough to get out of bed when Ariadne
showed up. She'd had her own key for most of the time they'd known one another
and was never shy about using it. Eames didn't think that Mr. Saito would have
been really chuffed if he'd known about it, but he didn't like being home alone
and knowing that no one else had any way to get in. Besides, he knew that
Ariadne was utterly responsible and would never abuse this privilege.
Well, aside from her taking the opportunity to enter Eames' room whilst he was
still in bed.
"Hey, Eames," Ari cooed, her brows knotted up in a little frown, her eyes dark
with worry. "How are you feeling?"
"How do I look?" he asked, a little surprised when his voice came out in a
hoarse croak.
"Like shit," she replied candidly, because she was a good friend like that.
"And there you go," Eames concluded, smiling at her even though it really hurt
to do so, especially with his split lip. But he felt better already with Ari
here, and even though he was still embarrassed by everything that had happened
the day before, he was grateful for her presence and her concern.
Ariadne gave him a careful hug, mindful of his ribs. It still hurt, but he
couldn't begrudge the hug. Not when he felt as though he needed the embrace at
least as much as she evidently did.
"I'm going to go make you some tea," Ariadne said, kissing his cheek lightly.
"Go ahead and get ready for school... if you're going."
"I'm going," he mumbled, then went to bathe.
It wasn't until he got a good look at himself in the mirror that he realized
how tactful Ariadne had been in her assessment of his looks. He supposed if Dom
and Arthur hadn't come to his rescue he might have looked worse, but it was
hard to imagine how.
"You're coming home with me after school," Ariadne informed him as she cooked
them up a breakfast that he had no stomach for. With his split lip it hurt
enough just sipping hot tea out of a mug. Then again, he couldn't take any more
pain pills until he had something in his stomach. Dammit.
Eames didn't argue, even though he didn't particularly feel very sociable. He
knew that Ari still felt guilty, even though he'd specifically told her not to,
and so anything that might make her feel better....
"Just don't mind if I fall asleep and drool on your bed," he mumbled, a little
slurred because evidently speaking through a giant scab on one's lower lip
really hurt; who knew.
"I never have before," she replied impishly, setting a plate of eggs and
sausage in front of him with another affectionate kiss, this one to the crown
of his head. It felt a little strange, being mothered by a girl only one year
older than he was, but he didn't really mind. Not when he was as sore and upset
as he still was.
Speaking of parents, Eames didn't really want Ariadne's mother and father
seeing the state he was in. But there was no way Ariadne was going to let him
go back on his word and head straight home after school.
And if he was painfully honest, he didn't really want to be alone again. He
didn't have anyone here; not even Mr. Saito. Ariadne was like a sister to him
and she was perfectly willing to share her own family. Who was he to turn that
down?
Showering and getting dressed whilst Ari had made them breakfast had been an
ordeal. Drinking his tea and eating said breakfast had made his split lip
throb. Somehow Ariadne seemed to intuit that his right arm ached -- possibly
the fact that he ate his eggs with his left hand had something to do with this
-- and so she offered to do his hair for him. He didn't turn her down, though
he did have to ask her to be tender around the back of his skull, where Nash
had slammed him into the wall.
"I love you, Eames," she said with all affection, kissing him yet a third time
once she was done with his hair. Her eyes were dark and a little wet, and Eames
hoped she wasn't feeling guilty for the fact that he'd been alone in that
corridor.
"Love you too," he replied, squeezing her fingers with his good left hand. He
generally preferred to express such emotions through actions rather than words,
but he knew that sometimes people just needed to hear it. And Ariadne had said
it first; it would have been impolite not to reciprocate.
Then she proved her love by getting him some of his meds before bundled him
into her car. He didn't really want to go to school, but with Ari by his side,
he was going to do okay.
If he couldn't do it for himself, then he would be able to do it for her.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Dom didn't seem very surprised when Arthur started spending a lot less time
with him -- in fact, almost no time at al -- but then again, he was so wrapped
up in his relationship with Mal that it was questionable whether he even
noticed.
Arthur maybe should have been offended by this, but honestly he was mostly
relieved. He just. He couldn't feel the same about Dom now that he knew that
Dom had seduced Eames. When Eames had been only barely fifteen and still baby-
soft, no less. And Dom was legally an adult now, though he'd hopefully still
been seventeen when it had all gone down... not that that would have made it
much better.
Well, at any rate, Arthur didn't feel the need to let anyone else know what Dom
had done; not even Mal, who of all people probably had the most right to know.
Arthur would honor Eames' request to Ariadne, even though he wasn't technically
bound by it. But he didn't know if he could respect Dom any longer. And it
wasn't just because of the fact that Dom had deflowered a boy three years
younger than him when they were all at the age where three years made a big
difference. It was actually more the fact that Dom had then turned around and
lied about it, had painted Eames as the villain when he had really been the
opposite.
Arthur supposed that it was kind of melodramatic and even a little
condescending of him to think of Eames as a "victim", but that was honestly the
only word that sprang to mind.
Speaking of Eames, his face was healing up nicely from the beating Nash had
given him. Word was Nash's father had gotten transferred at his job with Cobol
Engineering and the family had had to move out of town. Arthur suspected this
was a cover story, but he actually didn't care enough to try and find out. As
long as Nash wasn't picking on Eames, Arthur didn't care where he was or what
he did, didn't care whether he'd been expelled or not.
Well, okay, there was a not-so-small, vindictive part of him that would have
been glad to know Nash had been expelled. But Arthur really preferred to spend
his time and energy on more important things than Nash overall.
Arthur did sort of wonder if it had been Robert's father or Mr. Saito who'd
exerted their influence to get Nash kicked out of school, if that had really
been what had happened.... But Robert wasn't very close to his father and
Principal Browning seemed to genuinely dislike Eames' guardian and that dislike
carried over to Eames, so Arthur figured it was unlikely either of the adults
in question had stepped in.
Despite his own desires and his words to Ariadne, Arthur hadn't tried to
insinuate himself into his sister's inner circle right away. He was smarter
than that, and he knew from the wary looks Eames kept shooting him whenever
Arthur came to join them in the den that he couldn't just suddenly push to
become friends.
So he tried to be more friendly than polite, warm instead of cold like he'd
used to be. He had no idea if he was making progress, but at least he knew that
Ari was on his side now.
She could have gotten her back up, he knew. Considering all the time that
Arthur had spent being a dick to Eames, he wouldn't have blamed her if she had.
She was very protective of the younger boy, and now Arthur felt he had a better
idea of why. In fact, he felt a little protective himself, even though he
didn't know Eames anywhere near as well as his sister did. But, then again,
Arthur was an older brother; it probably wasn't so surprisingly that his
umbrella of caring had come to extend to Ariadne's best friend as well as Ari
herself.
Especially seeing as Eames was skinny and shy and a year younger than Ariadne,
and since he'd been done so wrong by Dom and his selfishness.
Arthur wasn't responsible for what his former best friend had done, but he had
bought into Dom's lies when he should have known better, and that was something
he was going to have to work to live down.
It actually helped that Robert was hanging around a lot more too; a fact that
Arthur was surprisingly okay with. Robert and Ariadne were still in the early
stages of developing a relationship, it was clear, but there didn't seem to be
any problem with Eames being a third wheel. Robert was an only child, but he
treated Eames pretty much the same way Arthur treated Ariadne -- albeit,
honestly, a lot more politely -- and he never seemed to get jealous over the
attention Ari gave Eames.
Arthur was still of the mindset that no one was ever going to really be good
enough for his baby sister... but Robert was definitely making a good case from
himself by his words and actions combined.
As well, Ariadne appeared to have clued Robert in to Arthur's wishes -- though
Arthur hoped that she hadn't told him everything -- and he seemed to be on
board with the whole thing. And since he was in the same grade as Arthur he was
able to get away with inviting Arthur along to do things with their little
group when it might have been a little weird for Ariadne to do so.
Before either Arthur or Eames quite knew what was happening, they found
themselves the "other couple" when Ari and Robert went out on not-quite-dates
like bowling or ice skating. Arthur thought it was kind of strange, but it
seemed to be working. Eames was slowly warming up to him, had even spoken to
him directly a few times, and so Arthur wasn't going to complain or question
it.
Now that Nash wasn't in school any longer Eames was safe from his bullying, and
no one else really paid him much attention, but Ariadne and Robert were still
prone to hovering. Arthur figured it was better to be safe than sorry, so he
couldn't say he didn't approve. Ari was still painting Eames' nails twice a
week during lunch, and Eames still let her, with a fond smile and maybe the
occasional sigh. Robert just seemed glad she'd never asked to do the same to
him.
Then, for the first time ever, Arthur found himself invited along when Ariadne
and Robert went over to Eames' place after school. And it had been Eames who
had invited him. Arthur tried not to get too excited over this, but it was a
huge step in the right direction, and he almost felt nervous, if one could
credit it. Not that there wasn't reason, but Arthur tended not to suffer from
nerves, normally.
Sometimes when he paused to think about it, Arthur wasn't sure how this had
become his life. When the school year had started he'd been best friends with a
senior, had been hanging out with all the cool kids, and looking down on Eames
from afar.
Now he was friends with another junior and two sophomores, he was hanging out
with his younger sister, her best friend, and her boyfriend, and he wanted more
than anything to become closer friends with Eames. Who was even younger than
Ari.
Arthur still liked Mal. He was still polite to Dom when they spoke during
school. He'd changed his focus but not his personality, he didn't think.
But now he spent most of his free time with Robert, Ariadne, and Eames. And
only one of these was a classmate. It was a little strange, but what was maybe
even a little stranger was that it didn't feel strange. It felt right. Arthur
had no regrets, and he felt as though things were moving along nicely.
It helped that Ari and Robert weren't the sort of couple that indulged in any
forms of PDA when they were out, or even when they were at home. The most they
did was slump together on the furniture, and even then it was just as likely to
be Eames or Arthur that Ari tumbled over top of. Of course, part of this might
be due to Robert's naturally reserved nature; or more likely it was due to
nurture, thanks to his verbally abusive and emotionally distant father. Still,
Robert was open enough with Ariadne, Eames, and Arthur. And as far as Arthur
knew Ariadne didn't have any complaints... though he really didn't want or need
to know, honestly.
They all arrived at Eames' house -- well, his guardian's mansion -- and after
they had a snack in the kitchen Ariadne and Robert disappeared from Eames'
suite, headed for a guestroom. Arthur arched a brow, figuring that he now
understood why they were okay with being physically restrained most of the
time, as well as why they spent so much time at Eames' home.
Eames glanced at him and blushed a little. Arthur grinned in a conspiratorial
manner, but mostly he was fascinated by the way the pointy tips of Eames' ears
turned red along with the apples of his cheeks.
He was really freaking adorable.
"I hope they're being safe," Arthur said, but he thought he sounded more amused
than judgmental. He tried. He absolutely wasn't thinking about his baby sister
in sexual situation, because no matter how much he liked Robert, that was just
gross.
Eames blushed more deeply. "They keep their clothes on, I think," he mumbled,
flopping to sit on the edge of his bed. Arthur cast about for a moment, then
seated himself on the chair at Eames' desk. It felt a little presumptuous, but
it would have been incredibly awkward to remain standing and it would have been
even more presumptuous to join Eames on his mattress.
"There's some snogging involved," Eames continued, and he looked as though he
wished his mouth would stop moving without his brain's permission, but Arthur
found the flush to his cheeks and the way his plush lips rounded around the
vowels to be mesmerizing. "That's all."
"Snogging?" Arthur asked, grinning, still trying not to visualize his sister
possibly frotting against Robert in a room nearby. Much better to be focusing
on Eames, even though Arthur was starting to realize that he found Eames to be
quite attractive, viscerally, not just subjectively. Not that he was at all
inclined to act on that, after what Dom had done to the boy.
"Just kissing and a bit of cuddling," Eames explained, his tone a little
defensive, but his face still set in an appalled expression, his cheeks still
flaming. "Clothing on. It only sounds filthy to filthy American minds. And I'd
really like to drop the subject now, if you don't mind."
Arthur chuckled a little. "Do you think I'd mind? That's my baby sister we're
talking about. I still remember when Mom was potty training her!"
Eames stared at him for a long, stunned moment, then he fell over backwards,
rolling with laughter.
Arthur smirked, incredibly pleased with himself for having garnered this
response.
"You're only a year older than Ari," Eames said accusingly once he'd recovered
himself, twisting to rest on his belly, stocking-footed heels hovering above
his rear, propped up on his elbows, his eyes gleaming. "You can't possibly
remember that!"
Arthur grinned, curling his own feet underneath him on the seat of the chair.
"I was very advanced at a very young age," he replied imperiously, even though
he was totally bullshitting and they both totally knew it.
Eames was grinning back, then he seemed to catch himself and withdraw a little.
Arthur fought the urge to frown in response because he knew that Eames would
take it the wrong way, but he did sober a little, taking his emotional cues
from Eames.
"I'm glad you're here," Eames said shyly, glancing at Arthur through his long
lashes. By this point he was completely healed from the bruises Nash had given
him, and while he had always objectively known that Eames was pretty, Arthur
had never before felt close enough or open enough to allow himself to really
notice it.
"I'm glad you invited me," Arthur said, struggling to keep his tone even when
his heart was beating a hard tattoo against his breastbone. It was kind of
ridiculous to be this excited over something so simple, but....
Well, he could still recall all the times that he'd walked into the kitchen at
his house when Ari and Eames were in there and very pointedly ignored Eames,
without so much as a greeting or even an attempt at common civility. He'd come
a long way, he'd had a long way to climb, and it was thrilling to hear Eames
acknowledge this, to know that it was working.
Arthur was sure that Eames could recall the same thing; it hadn't been that
long ago, after all, and Arthur had been a complete asshole. It was something
of a minor miracle and a testament to Eames' natural generosity that the
younger boy seemed to be able to overlook it and move past it, to forgive
Arthur for his douchery.
Which Arthur was still mostly blaming on Dom. But Arthur was intelligent and
logical. He ought to have guessed the truth. He ought to have trusted his own
sister to know who was worth her affection and regard. To know that Eames was
worth her affection and regard.
Well, that was all in the past. Arthur wasn't going to pretend it had never
happened, but if Eames was willing to forgive him, he wasn't going to let his
previous behavior get in the way of their current friendship.
"You figured out what happened, didn't you?" Eames asked quietly, and now his
gaze was cast down, his cheeks no longer pink, and his expression pensive.
Arthur felt a little nervous, but this was coming right after they'd both
expressed a thankfulness for being where they were. It was unlikely that Eames
would kick him out immediately after this mutual exchange of gratitude, right?
"Probably," he replied evenly, looking down at his own hands, giving Eames a
little privacy inasmuch as that was possible when he was sitting in his
bedroom, on his desk chair. "Ariadne will neither confirm nor deny and I refuse
to talk to Dom about it.... For what it's worth, though, I'd like to apologize
for misjudging you."
Eames shrugged, Arthur could see it in his peripheral vision. "No reason you
shouldn't take your best friend at his word," he said, and he sounded a little
sad, not at all angry or bitter the way he should have been.
"I know Dom, though," Arthur growled, angry on Eames' behalf, though he wasn't
sure whether it was more at himself or Dom. "And between him and Ari, I ought
to have reached the correct conclusion."
Eames bit his lower lip and Arthur felt a tugging desire to do the same; bite
Eames' lip, that was, not his own. Eames had such lush, bite-able, lickable
lips.... Arthur had no place to do so and no right, however, and he knew it.
"I'm sorry," Arthur offered again. "Not for what Dom did, because that's none
of my business and I don't need to know about it. But for the way I treated
you."
"That's not why you're here, though, is it?" Eames asked, looking up and
meeting Arthur's gaze with huge eyes. "As some sort of penance? I mean, I
thought that was it at first, but you're a better person than that. And you
wouldn't be hanging out with your sister and her boyfriend and me if it wasn't
something that you wanted to do."
Arthur nodded, deeply relieved that Eames hadn't misunderstood his motivation.
It could easily have happened, but Eames was smarter than that.
"I like you," Arthur offered, even though it seemed too bald a statement to lay
on Eames right now. Still, if not now, then when? "Once I let myself see what
was really there instead of what I expected to see, I realized that you were
someone worth getting to know. After all, Ariadne has good taste and she
wouldn't be friends with someone who wasn't worth her time, right?"
The color was back in Eames' face, with reinforcements, but he nodded a little.
Or maybe just ducked his head again, it was hard to tell. "I.... You're.... Th-
thanks," he stuttered, looking so adorably flustered that Arthur wanted to kiss
him,
Or maybe he just plain wanted to kiss him, adorably flustered or not.
Arthur was going to set that thought aside for future consideration, though. He
wasn't going to be like Dom, taking advantage of a younger and more
inexperienced boy. He respected Eames far too much for that.
Well, he wasn't sure how inexperienced Eames might actually be, after what Dom
had done. But whatever their tryst had involved, it hadn't lasted a very long
time. And Eames hadn't had any relationships since then or Ariadne would have
told Arthur about it, so.... Well, even if Eames had been introduced to sex by
Dom in the past, he was still inexperienced in love and Arthur had the definite
feeling that he was still mostly innocent, even if he wasn't ignorant any
longer.
"Thank you for being willing to give me a second chance when I was such a dick
to you," he said, because as long as they were being forthright about things he
might as well put that out there. Also, he still felt guilty for the way he'd
treated Eames and he was grateful to Eames for being the bigger person here.
"Do you want to...." Eames scrambled into a sitting position, still gazing at
Arthur with those big doe eyes. "Ari and Robert will be a while. Do you want to
play some video games?"
Arthur smiled, trying not to look as affectionate as he was feeling, but Eames
was just so endearing. His cheeks were pink again, but not his ears, and he
looked happy and calm. Arthur was used to seeing him withdrawn and shy at
school, or uncomfortable when Arthur was treating him badly. Even though things
had been better lately, Arthur thought this was the most relaxed he'd ever seen
Eames. And he liked it.
"Sure," he agreed, even though playing video games wasn't really high on his
list of ways to pass his free time. Still, maybe Eames could convince him.
Besides, he was willing to try anything that put that sweet smile on Eames'
face.
Oh, he had it bad. But the funny thing was, he didn't really mind.
***
Eames wasn't of a defeatist nature as a general principle, but he'd faced
plenty of disappointments in his life. So he really shouldn't have been
surprised when something came along to interrupt the happiest he'd been in as
long as he could remember, throwing everything into complete and utter
upheaval.
He was grateful to Mr. Saito for taking him in when the man hadn't actually
been required to do so, really he was. And Eames was only fifteen, a minor for
years yet with no way to support himself, which meant that he had to do
whatever his legal guardian said.
None of this made it any less traumatic or agonizing, though, when Eames
received a short and to the point email from Mr. Saito telling him to pack his
things in preparation for a move back to England within the month.
It wasn't any sort of a punishment; Eames' grades were excellent and the
"fight" with Nash had been almost a month ago. It was just an arbitrary
decision made by the adult who was in charge of Eames's life. In fact, Eames
thought that Mr. Saito probably considered he was doing him a favour, taking
him back to his home country. And before he had gotten to know Ariadne, Eames
would have wildly applauded this idea.
But now he had friends. Ariadne cared about him as much as he cared about her,
and for some reason Robert and Arthur liked him as well. It was.... It was
going to be an unimaginable wrench to leave them.
In fact, he couldn't really imagine it.
"Do you think your parents would take me in if I ran away?" he asked Ariadne
pitifully. He had broken the news to her the morning after he'd received the
dreadful email, when she came to make him breakfast before driving him to
school.
"Oh, Eames," she cooed, not taking him seriously because of course she
shouldn't, but giving him a tight hug with tears in her eyes.
"I wish I could say that Maurice wouldn't notice if you moved into our
guesthouse," Robert said ruefully from where he had taken over flipping
pancakes when Ariadne had heard that Eames was going to have to leave and had
rushed over to him. "And, well, he wouldn't, but one of the servants would
probably tell him. And since Mr. Saito is his biggest business rival, I doubt
he'd be very pleased."
"I couldn't...." Eames sighed, still holding onto Ariadne because she was warm
and strong, no matter how short and slender she was. She was strong inside,
where it really mattered. "I couldn't get anyone into trouble, not really. And
I owe Mr. Saito a lot...."
"But he needs to know that you have friends here," Ariadne protested. "He needs
to know that things are finally going good for you at school. He can't just rip
you away from everything."
"You should tell him all that," Robert added, raising his brows at Eames. "Even
if it doesn't do any good, at least then you can say that you tried."
Eames blanched. He was still intimidated by Mr. Saito, still a little afraid
that if he crossed the man he might wind up in the foster care system or
something.... It wasn't that he didn't respect Mr. Saito, it wasn't that he
didn't think the man was honourable and generous, because he was, he very much
was. But Mr. Saito had no actual ties to Eames, either by blood or by marriage.
He was Eames' godfather, and for some reason he'd agreed to take Eames in when
his Dad had deserted him, his Mum having been dead since he was tiny. He was
legally Eames' guardian now, even though Eames wasn't sure how he had pulled
that, but what was to say he mightn't at some point change his mind?
And yet, how could Eames say goodbye to Ariadne and Arthur and Robert without
at least making an effort? He might be able to get into the same college as
them, but that was over two years away, and who was to say that they'd all go
the same place? Who was to say that Mr. Saito would be willing to send him to
college, or even still be supporting Eames by that point?
"It'll be okay, Eames," Ariadne was saying, hugging him tightly, one hand
carding through his hair comfortingly. Eames became aware that he was kind of
freaking out a little, even though it was mostly internal, and he tried to calm
himself. Ariadne didn't need to deal with this, and Robert definitely didn't.
So even though he didn't want to, he reluctantly pulled away.
"Have you told Arthur yet?" Ariadne asked, sitting down at the table as Robert
brought them over a couple of plates with pancakes and crisp bacon that Eames
had absolutely no stomach for.
Eames shook his head mutely. He'd actually wanted to, had thought about
forwarding Mr. Saito's email to Arthur once he'd gotten it, but sharing it
would have made it seem real, and so he'd just crawled into bed and tried not
to cry... too much. It had only been when he'd been sitting in the kitchen with
Ariadne and Robert, whilst Ari had mixed pancake batter, that the reality of it
had washed over him and the words had come spilling out of his mouth.
Now he was on the verge of crying again, and he had to pull himself together
before they left for school. He might be only fifteen, but he was a man, and
men were stronger than this.
Even when they were about to be ripped away from everyone and everything that
they had ever loved.
Eames wasn't being overly melodramatic. His childhood hadn't been miserable,
per se, but he'd missed his Mum and his father had been more than a little
neglectful. It hadn't been until he'd come to America that people had begin to
really pay attention to him. At first it had been Dom, and that hadn't really
gone too well. But then Ariadne had taken him in hand, and that had been one
the best things that ever could have happened to him. Now Ariadne's whole
family looked out for Eames, especially Arthur, and there was Robert too.
"I'll text him," Ariadne said, chewing her lower lip and hauling out her phone
as Robert calmly poured syrup on her pancakes for her, then stole a slice of
bacon.
It occurred to Eames that it was probably a good thing for Robert that he was
able to come over like this. He had servants taking care of his needs in his
father's home, but Eames was sure that Robert was more comfortable here, in his
kitchen, helping Ariadne cook, playing house only not really. It undoubtedly
gave Robert as much of a sense of belonging as it gave Eames, and he could
appreciate that for Robert's sake, as well as his own.
And they were going to lose this. Not just Eames, but all of them.
"If that's okay?" Ariadne was asking, her brows raised, giving Eames a
concerned look.
He gave it a moment's thought and then nodded. It might be better to let Arthur
know himself, but he found the thought of it daunting. "It's okay," he assured
her.
As Ariadne's thumbs flew and Eames stuffed some perfectly cooked but somehow
flavourless pancakes in his mouth, he considered. Why was he okay with Ari
texting Arthur, instead of telling him himself, as he ought to do? Probably
because it was intimidating, the thought of telling Arthur to his face. What if
Arthur didn't care as much as the rest of them? What if he did care?
No, it was too stressful to contemplate, and Eames was grateful to Ariadne for
making the offer and for carrying through on it. Arthur needed to know, and
Eames needed to not have to tell him.
He was still a little in shock that he and Arthur were, evidently, friends.
Eames still half expected to wake one day and find it to be some sort of
mistake or joke, but he knew Arthur was too serious and too kind to string him
along like that. He evidently wanted to be friends with Eames, for some unknown
reason... and God knew Eames was thrilled by the chance at getting closer to
Arthur.
Not only was Arthur a right fantastic guy, but he was gorgeous and fit and
intelligent and everything Eames might ever have wanted to be... or just plain
wanted.
Because Eames wasn't going to lie to himself. Once Arthur had begun treating
him like an actual human being -- one who held value to him, no less -- Eames
had allowed himself to see just how incredible Ariadne's older brother really
was. He'd always known, of course, but had tried to ignore it. It hadn't
applied to him, because Arthur hadn't ever wanted to have anything to do with
Eames. But now... now things were different.
Arthur was two years older than Eames and already looked a great deal like a
adult. He was tall; or, well, taller than Eames and Ariadne. He was slender,
but it was all lean muscle. He was soft-spoken but certain in his speech and he
was at least as smart as Eames was supposed to be, though Eames secretly
suspected Arthur was a lot more intelligent than he was.
He had manners, but made them seem natural, not like something he was supposed
to do but just something he was. And he'd been gracious enough to apologize to
Eames for misjudging him when it hadn't been his fault at all that Dom had lied
to him.
Eames could admit to it; he was pretty sure he was well on his way to
developing a major crush on Arthur. Only he didn't like to call it that,
because he felt like it was more serious than that. Maybe he was fooling
himself, but what he felt for Arthur seemed stronger and more important than
what people tended to label a "crush".
He wanted to make Arthur smile, so he could see those delightful dimples. He
loved it equally when he said something serious that brought a thoughtful
expression to Arthur's face. Any time that Arthur not only acknowledged Eames,
but behaved as though Eames mattered, it couldn't help but send a thrill
through him.
Plus, he really kind of wanted to kiss Arthur.
The things that Eames had done with Dom... they seemed so long ago that he
almost felt he didn't remember them any longer. Well, he did. But they were
sort of hazy, like a really intense wet dream. And, anyway, he was sure that
kissing Arthur would be far different from kissing Dom. For one thing, Arthur
liked him. And Eames might just be fooling himself, but he thought that Arthur
respected him. He knew, in retrospect, that Dom never had done. Or at least not
enough for it to matter, not enough to keep him from lying his arse off out of
fear of being outed or... something.
Eames still wasn't quite sure why Dom had tried to spread those lies about him,
but by this point he didn't really care. Eames had friends and they knew the
truth of what had happened; or maybe didn't know but obviously didn't care, on
Robert's part. What Dom had been thinking, what his various schoolmates thought
now, Eames didn't give a shit about any of that. He really didn't. It wasn't
just sour grapes or being in denial or anything. Eames' little world was Ari,
Arthur, and Robert. End of story. And that was okay.
Eames was pretty sure it was okay, anyway.... It wasn't as though he was
fixating on them when they didn't return his regard. For some reason he'd
always been important to Ariadne, which was amazing and downright nearly
miraculous. When she'd started dating Robert, this hadn't pushed Eames out;
instead the two of them had included Eames in their activities and continued to
hang out with him. And not just because they could use a guest room in Mr.
Saito's house to snog.
Then there was Arthur. Eames wasn't prone to having a load of self confidence;
his father and Dom had done a pretty good job of squashing that out of him, in
different ways. Neither had done so on purpose, of course... but that just made
it all the more effective. They hadn't cared how their actions had affected
Eames because he just wasn't that important to them.
But Arthur had said the words. That he was happy Eames had given him a second
chance. He'd even said "I like you," and so far it didn't seem as though he'd
had any ulterior motivation for doing so.
Not that Eames would have minded that last, if the motivation had been
sexual....
But even though Arthur was 'out' at school and at home, Eames wasn't silly
enough to think he had a chance. "I like you" did not translate to "I want to
fuck you," or even "I want to date you." Eames was well aware of this. And it
definitely didn't mean "I love you."
That didn't stop Eames feeling strongly about Arthur, of course. Reality never
had any place in fantasy, and Eames had to admit that lately when he'd been
lying in bed alone at night and wrapping his hand around his prick, it had been
Arthur who had sprung to mind. Even though Eames felt bad about it, even though
it made him feel a little guilty once he'd come.
He was fifteen, though; he was supposed to be thinking about sex all the time,
wasn't he? To be honest, Eames hadn't had any sexual activity outside of wank
jobs since Dom had dumped him cold. And he hadn't really missed it. Sure, it
had felt good, had felt amazing when he'd been messing about with Dom. But it
hadn't been, for lack of a better word, fulfilling. Especially not when Dom had
turned around and.... Well.
Eames wouldn't consider himself a virgin anymore, even though he hadn't had
penetrative sex, but he was definitely inexperienced. He had nothing to offer
Arthur, really, though he had gotten pretty good at giving head and he assumed
that the skills would come back to him if given the opportunity.
Not that this was going to happen.
At any rate. He knew why he wanted Ariadne to give Arthur a heads-up about his
pending move. A part of him wanted to know how Arthur would react, how
important it was going to be to him, but a larger part of him was frightened of
this reaction and what it might be and what that would mean for them.
Not that there was a "them". But if there could have been, that chance was
going to be gone now. Now that Mr. Saito was moving Eames back to England.
This was pretty much the worst Eames had ever felt. Even more so than when his
father had abandoned him. Even more so than when Dom had dumped him and spread
false rumors, before Ariadne had befriended him. Those had been bad things, to
be sure. But this was worse.
"Arthur's coming over here right now," Ariadne informed Eames, even though the
three of them ought to be headed for school within the next five minutes and
Arthur was about a ten minute drive away. "He misspelled three words in his
text, so he must be pretty upset."
Eames flushed a little, his heart beating faster, and completely missed the
speaking glance that Ariadne and Robert shot each other over his head.
He knew he shouldn't, but hearing that Arthur was upset over this... actually
made him feel a little better. He felt that he could allow himself to think
that Arthur... cared?
Now, if only he wasn't facing the reality of being torn away from everyone that
he loved in the world. Never the bad without some good, but never the good
without some bad.
Well, Eames supposed that was better than all bad. But still.
***
Robert cared about his new friends, really, but for such intelligent people,
they could be remarkably obtuse.
He would have felt bad for judging them harshly, but he knew that Ariadne
agreed, and since one of them was her brother and the other was her actual best
friend, Robert figured she knew what she was talking about.
He could see where they were both coming from, of course. His father hadn't
raised him to have much empathy, but he'd somehow developed it on his own, and
being with Ariadne made him want to flex it like a muscle that needed more
exercise. She made him want to be a better person, and who better to practice
this new mindset on than her older brother and the boy who might just as well
have been her younger brother?
The thing was, Robert understood. Eames had been burned by Dom, he'd had his
heart broken, and Robert totally got it if he couldn't bring himself to trust
his heart to someone else. Even though he could tell that Eames was already
completely gone on Arthur, and he thought that Eames already did trust his
heart to Arthur whether he knew it yet or not.
And Arthur was wary because of the very same thing. Eames was two years younger
than they were, he was still young and relatively inexperienced -- not that
Robert had asked or wanted to know, but Ariadne had told him that Eames hadn't
been with anyone since Dom, or before him either -- and Arthur was probably
more afraid of hurting Eames than Eames feared being hurt.
So they both pined and they spent time together and they were both so painfully
obviously head over heels for one another, but neither one was going to be the
first to make a move.
Robert had already had to talk Ari out of trying to force the issue at least
three times. Not that he didn't sympathize with her frustration. But if she'd
begun butting in, it couldn't possibly have led to anything good.
Hey, if he'd thought that it might work, Robert would have been right in there
helping her. But they were both still so new to each other; Arthur and Eames,
that was. Robert and Ari were still relatively new to one another as well, but
Robert felt like he'd known and loved her forever.
He still thought that Arthur and Eames would have gotten their act together at
some point and one of them would have confessed his feelings for the other. But
now that seemed a moot point, since Eames was going to be leaving. Not just the
town, but the country.
"It's not fair," Ariadne bemoaned, curling up in Robert's lap. They were in one
of Mr. Saito's guest rooms together, not because they still could but in order
to give Arthur and Eames some time alone with one another.
Or, well, possibly a bit of both.
"I was so sure that things were going to work out between them," Ariadne
continued, even though she'd been the impatient one and Robert had been the one
soothing her with pretty much those words exactly. "And now Eames is going to
be leaving."
Robert grimaced. Eames had, at Ariadne's urging and with Arthur hanging over
his shoulder, sent off a politely-worded and somewhat terrified-sounding email
to his guardian, asking if there was any chance Mr. Saito might change his
mind. The reply had been that Mr. Saito wanted to sell the house, so that was a
pretty definitive "no".
Robert knew what it was like to be intimidated by a guardian figure, so he
hadn't judged Eames when that took the fight right out of him. It wasn't
because he didn't care enough about Ari and Arthur to fight for the ability to
remain in their company; it was more that Eames was scared that Mr. Saito would
decide he was a bad investment and dump him into whatever equivalent to the
foster care system that England had. And all of Ariadne's assurances to the
opposite would do nothing to sway him.
Robert had gotten Ariadne to back off with a few well chosen words in private,
explaining Eames' feelings to her. As someone who'd never questioned or had to
question her parents' love and devotion, it had been something of a revelation.
Arthur, however, had already intuited Eames' reasoning. Either that, or Eames
had told him. Robert had no idea which, but at least he'd been able to help Ari
understand. Which, she didn't like it, but she did understand, once Robert had
explained it.
"It's probably better that they don't get together now," Robert said, even
though his heart told him differently. It would have made sense.... Better to
lose something before discovering the entirety of that loss....
Only, he thought about losing Ariadne -- to a move or another boyfriend or
something -- before they'd gotten to know one another and date and kiss and
everything, and he did not like that idea at all. Maybe never having something
in the first place wasn't better.
"This sucks," Ariadne said vehemently, not arguing with him. Robert probably
would have acceded her the point if she had argued, but....
"It does," he replied. Long distance friendships were possible, and none of
them had any intention of falling out of touch with Eames, but long distance
relationships that hadn't even started yet were another matter entirely.
"Arthur is trying to hide it, but he's pretty upset," Ariadne added, kissing
Robert on the cheek as though to sweetly say that even though they were
discussing her best friend and her brother, at least some of her attention was
on him. "I also think he has a plan."
"Really?" Robert's brows rose. If Arthur had a plan of some sort, they might
have hope yet. He and Arthur may have only been friends for a short time but
they'd been in the same grade ever since Robert had moved into town and he'd
yet to see Arthur fail at anything he had set his mind to.
"Yeah," Ari replied, nodding. "He came out of the bathroom yesterday looking
really determined. And I know he does his best thinking in the shower."
"I tend not to spend time in the shower thinking," Robert declared dryly,
before he could censor himself.
"And now I'm picturing my brother masturbating," Ariadne said in a slightly
high pitched voice. "Thanks for that!"
"Sorry," Robert apologized, and he meant it. That wasn't high on his list of
things to envision either. Not to mention it being counterproductive to
actively turn his girlfriend off while they were making out.
Well, they were more talking right now than making out. But they could start
making out once they were done talking, as long as Robert hadn't entirely kill
the mood.
Somehow, talking about Arthur and Eames getting together as a couple wouldn't
do so. But that was speaking in the abstract. Even hinting that Arthur might
jerk off in the shower... well, that was appallingly specific and ick.
"Just picture me masturbating in the shower, then," Robert offered. He felt
like it was a weak sally at best, but it seemed to do the trick, as Ariadne
wriggled in his arms until she was straddling his lap and they were face to
face, her arms locked around her neck.
"Okay," she grinned fiercely, and then attacked his mouth with hers.
Not that he minded in the least.
It was too bad that Arthur and Eames couldn't have this with each other, Robert
thought vaguely. But thinking about that right now would be counterproductive
as well, and so he let the thought slide right out of his mind.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Arthur sucked in a deep breath. He couldn't believe what he was about to do,
but he couldn't just stand by and do nothing. He couldn't let Mr. Saito take
Eames away from him -- from all of them -- without putting up a protest.
Or, better yet, a well thought out and skillfully delivered argument.
Arthur was fortunate in that Mr. Saito was actually in town for a change, and
even more fortunate that he sounded old enough on the phone to have been able
to set up an appointment with the man himself on the day following Eames'
shattering news.
Not that he'd made the appointment with Mr. Saito; he'd only spoken with the
man's receptionist. But he was about to speak with Mr. Saito now.
Arthur was wearing his sleekest, most professional looking suit -- which, yes,
he had more than one, thanks very much -- and had his hair slicked back. He was
well aware that he still looked like a seventeen year old in a suit, but at
least he was wearing it with confidence and it was perfectly cut. He would look
even better in five years or so, but for where he was now, he looked good.
He was going to need all the confidence he could muster, because there was
nothing that was more important than this. At least not to him. Or to his
sister. Or to Eames. And how Eames felt about it mattered to Arthur, for
reasons he didn't want to think about too hard. Especially not right now. Right
now he needed to be intensely focused on his goal.
The receptionist at the desk was pretty and blonde, but she was also completely
professional and only quirked one brow briefly when Arthur announced himself.
He'd been a little afraid that he'd be called on his age before he even got in
to see Mr. Saito, but she just smiled in a cool but perfectly courteous way and
said she would let Mr. Saito know he was there.
Arthur was pretty much a bundle of nerves by the time he entered Mr. Saito's
office, but he thought that he was hiding it well enough for the most part. He
knew he was wearing his suit well, he didn't look like some kid in his father's
Sunday clothing, he had good posture, his chin was raised, his jaw firm, and he
kept his goal firmly foremost in his mind.
"Mr. Saito," he said, offering his hand and smiling maybe a little tightly.
"I'm Arthur."
"You are... younger than I was expecting," Mr. Saito said smoothly, brows
rising, his voice heavily accented but his enunciation close to perfect. He was
older than Arthur had thought he would be, but Arthur certainly wasn't going to
be tactless enough to say so.
"Maybe," he replied, not allowing himself to get upset because he didn't think
Mr. Saito had actually meant to be offensive, had simply been stating a fact.
"But that's not the point. I'm here to talk to you about Eames."
"As you mentioned. Please, sit," Mr. Saito offered, gesturing at the leather
chair in front of his desk.
Arthur took the chair as directed, making sure to sit up straight but not on
the edge of the seat. He didn't want to try too hard, but he didn't want to
appear too casual, either. It was a delicate balance to struggle to maintain.
He wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that Mr. Saito probably
knew what he was doing, but he could only give it his best effort and hope for
the best results.
"What is your relationship to my ward?" Mr. Saito asked, and he raised one
brow, but he didn't look hugely critical... or at least that was what Arthur
hoped. He didn't know the man at all so he wasn't able to judge very well, but
so far things looked promising.
"We're friends," Arthur replied smoothly, because it was a fair question and
that was his honest answer. "He's actually best friends with my sister but I've
gotten to know him recently, and I think it's fair to say I have a vested
interest in what happens to him."
"Ah." Mr. Saito nodded, and he actually did look as though he understood;
Arthur just wasn't sure whether or not he sympathized.
"I saw the email Eames sent you," Arthur said, deciding that it was best to
just lay all his cards on the table at this point. Mr. Saito seemed to be a man
who would appreciate forthrightness. "It was polite but I think he was too
polite. I don't think he made it clear how much my sister has come to mean to
him, and he's too modest to communicate how much he's come to mean to her."
"And to you?" Mr. Saito queried calmly. He didn't seem affected by what Arthur
was saying, but neither did he seem to be on the verge of rejecting it, as far
as Arthur could tell.
"Yes," he replied honestly. "But Ariadne has known him longer and has devoted
more of her time and affection to becoming a close friend to him, so her
emotions take precedence over mine."
"I see." Mr. Saito nodded and his dark eyes were fixed on Arthur's face,
piercing and intense. Arthur fought the instinctive urge to fidget; he needed
to remain professional. "And so your aim in this meeting is to...?"
"I'm here to ask you if you'd be willing to reconsider your decision to move
Eames back to England," Arthur said baldly. No need to mince words. "He's happy
here. That's not to say he wouldn't be happy there... eventually. But here he
has a support system and people who love him. I'm not asking for myself, or
even for my sister; I'm asking for the sake of Eames' mental and emotional
health. He's actually been through a lot since moving here, and not all of it
has been good, but he's come a long way and he trusts us. None of us want to
lose him."
This wasn't quite the speech Arthur'd had planned. He'd meant to be more
logical, to lay out the facts a little less personally. But he figured that
being brutally honest might be more likely to win Mr. Saito over once he was
here and speaking to him. No one had ever said Arthur couldn't adapt to any
given situation, no matter how often Ariadne and Eames teased him about his
lack of imagination.
Mr. Saito heard him out, then nodded, his expression thoughtful.
"My ward's mental and emotional health is of concern to me, of course," he said
seriously. "And I acknowledge what you are telling me. But I prefer not to
continue supporting the residence he has been living in. Without that, I
decided it would be best to take him back to the country of his origin."
Arthur nodded in turn. He could understand that. He didn't like it, but he
could understand it.
"What if I could offer an alternative?" he asked, fighting not to clench his
jaw. He had to remain in control, calm and collected, no matter how desperate
he was feeling. He didn't mind Mr. Saito knowing how much this meant to him,
but he needed to keep it to a professional level here.
Mr. Saito's winged brows rose. "And what is it you propose?"
Arthur kept his hands folded before him, trying for easy and casual, but he
knew his knuckles were white and his shoulders were hard underneath the
flawless lines of his jacket.
"Is it possible to schedule a second meeting with you for the near future?" he
asked formally, chin raised, meeting Mr. Saito's eyes unflinchingly. "To
discuss this further? Now that I have more relevant information, I need to go
and make some queries of my own before I can continue this line of discussion."
"I believe it should be possible," Mr. Saito replied evenly, and if he minded
Arthur's lack of a real answer he didn't show it. "Please make an appointment
with my receptionist on your way out. Tomorrow is a Saturday but I will be
here, and I have several hours in the morning that ought to be free."
Arthur felt dismissed, even though he'd been the one to initiate a retreat, and
so it actually made him feel a lot better when Mr. Saito added as they both
stood and he prepared to leave; " I will give some serious thought to the
matter in the meantime. I want what is best for Eames, but I cannot always set
aside what is practical."
"Of course not," Arthur acknowledged. "I wouldn't ask you to. But if a viable
alternative were to offer itself...?"
"Then I would give it my open consideration," Mr. Saito supplied, stepping
around the desk and offering Arthur his hand for a firm shake.
Arthur took both this action and the man's words as encouragement, and he
smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Saito," he said earnest. "And I hope to come back
tomorrow with a proposal that will fit everyone's needs."
"I look forward to it."
And whether or not he really did or was just being polite, Mr. Saito was
willing to listen, and Arthur was going to make sure that he returned as
promised, with a solution that they could all agree on. One way or another.
He was going to make it work.
***
Ariadne wasn't ashamed of it, she outright shrieked when she found out Arthur
had gotten both their parents' and Mr. Saito's okay for Eames to move in with
her family for an indeterminate amount of time. Then she was a little
embarrassed, because the next thing she did was burst into tears.
"Thank you, Arthur!" she sobbed, throwing her arms around her brother's neck
and clinging.
"You should thank Mom and Dad," he said, patting her back comfortingly, and not
minding that she was sniffling into his shoulder. "They're the ones who okayed
it. Mr. Saito is the one who's willing to give it a try. And, remember, Eames
still has to say yes."
"What do you mean?" Ariadne asked, peeling herself off of her brother and
scrubbing at her face. "Of course he'll say yes." Her eyes widened, because she
knew as well as Arthur did that Eames had a lot of pride despite his epic lack
of self-confidence -- or maybe in part because of it -- and he tended to freak
out more than a little when people did things behind his back. Not that she
blamed him for that last, not even a little, but this time it was a good thing
that Arthur had done.
"He has to say yes!" she blurted.
"That's why I want it to come from you," Arthur said seriously, and she still
couldn't believe he'd gone to see Mr. Saito personally and talked the man into
this. She also could barely believe Arthur had talked their parents into it; as
much as their Mom loved Eames and their Dad always did the right thing. The
effort that he had gone to was just more proof to Ariadne of how much Eames had
come to mean to Arthur. Not to mention how much Arthur knew Eames meant to
Ariadne as well.
"I'll call him right now," Ariadne said breathlessly, fumbling for her phone.
"You don't think Mr. Saito has told him yet, do you?"
Arthur frowned, shaking his head but looking uncertain. "I just met with him a
half hour ago, and he had a meeting to get to shortly after we finished
talking," he said, shrugging out of the jacket he was wearing. "So probably
not."
It was no wonder Mr. Saito had taken Arthur so seriously, Ariadne thought
fondly, even as she moved to call Eames on her cell. Arthur looked smart and
sharp and professional. He'd convinced their parents to give Eames a room to
live in while he finished out high school, as well as talking Mr. Saito into
allowing this.
Ariadne wanted to squeal and hug Arthur again, but Eames was answering his
phone and so she turned her attention to her best friend. God, she kind of
hoped Mr. Saito hadn't spoken to him yet. She was sure it would be fine, but
she felt like Arthur was right, and she should be the one to give him the news.
"Hey, Eames," she said, trying and failing to sound casual. "Remember when you
asked if you could run away and move in with us?"
Arthur rolled his eyes broadly, tugging off his tie and undoing the first two
buttons of his white shirt.
"Yeah," Eames replied slowly, sounding suspicious. "I was joking, though, Ari."
"You were sort of joking," she corrected. "But what if you actually could move
in with us? Like, legitimately."
"Smooth," Arthur mouthed at her, his brows creasing in a frown. Ariadne stuck
her tongue out at him.
"What?" Eames sounded confused, but at least not upset or defensive. Ariadne
wished she'd taken the time to drive over to his place, because she really
wanted to give him a huge hug right now. Also, being able to see his face might
help her know how best to approach this subject. But she just hadn't been able
to wait.
"I don't know why I thought you'd be better at this," Arthur murmured, rolling
his eyes again.
"Shut up, Arthur," she snapped, then turned her back so she could concentrate
on Eames at the other end of the line. Deciding it was just best to get it all
out here, baldly stated, with little chance of misinterpreting, she continued.
"Look, Mr. Saito is going to be contacting you, but I wanted to tell you first.
Arthur went to talk to Mr. Saito, and he talked to Mom and Dad, and Arthur is
awesome and amazing, and so the end result is that Mom and Dad said it was okay
for you to move in with us until you finish high school, and Mr. Saito said it
would be okay if that was what you wanted, so you don't have to move back to
England and leave us all behind, and you get to live here and be like my other
brother, and it's going to be great!" She paused, as much to breathe as to
listen for a response. Uncertainty rose in her as Eames remained silent, and
she really wished she could see him right now.
"I mean... if you want," she added feebly. "But I thought it'd be pretty cool
to have you living here. Mom loves you and Dad likes you and I love you and
Arthur--"
A small choking sound cut her off there, but it was probably for the best,
because Arthur's emotions weren't hers to share with Eames if Arthur wasn't
ready for that.
"Eames?" she prompted when he still didn't say anything. "Don't be mad at
Arthur for going behind your back, okay? He didn't tell anyone because, well,
what if it didn't work? He didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, right? He
didn't even tell me, and he only just got back from talking to Mr. Saito, and I
called you as soon as he told me."
"Maybe if you'd let him get a word in edgewise," Arthur said, poking her in the
arm. He looked a little concerned himself, though, his eyebrows denting
together in a frown.
"Eames?" Ariadne really wished she could see Eames' face right now, but she
hadn't had the patience to drive all the way over to his place before sharing.
She didn't normally think of herself as being impulsive, but she'd just been so
excited, and she couldn't see how it had been anything but good news.
It wasn't that she was uncertain now. But the longer it took Eames to respond,
the more nervous she got. She was probably just picking up on Arthur's mounting
anxiety. Arthur was always calm and even-tempered, but he got so wound up where
Eames was concerned. Ariadne thought it was cute, and she was one-hundred
percent convinced that it was further proof that the two of them were Meant To
Be. Even if maybe they didn't know it yet.
"So... I get to stay here?" Eames asked, and Ariadne didn't think she was
imagining that he sounded a little choked up, but she kindly ignored it.
"Not just stay, but you get to live with us!" she said, trying to sound calm
but kind of squeaking a little. "Isn't that cool?"
"It's... unbelievable," Eames breathed, and Ariadne wanted to think he sounded
happy, but she just couldn't be sure without seeing his face. It was too bad
she'd called instead of getting him on video chat. But calling him had been
quicker.
"Believe it," she said, her chest puffing up. "Arthur is amazing."
"I.... Yeah, he is," Eames agreed, and now she was pretty sure he was happy and
on board with plans.
"I'm coming over right now," she blurted. "To help you pack!"
"I-- What?"
Arthur laughed as Eames sputtered in her ear. "Ask him if it's okay if I come
too," he instructed.
"Eames, I'm bringing Arthur," she said. "So you can thank him in person. And
I'm calling Robert to see if he can join us."
"O-okay."
Eames sounded hesitant, but she knew him and he also sounded tentatively happy.
Relief was warm and bright in her chest, and she chortled gleefully.
"This is going to be so much fun!"
Eames didn't contradict her and she took that for agreement.
***
Eames almost couldn't credit that Arthur had braved speaking to Mr. Saito for
him, but it had actually happened. Not only had Arthur spoken to Mr. Saito, but
he'd also gotten the man to agree to let Eames move in with Arthur and Ariadne.
Additionally, there was the fact that Arthur had talked his parents around to
his plan, but this was a little less stunning. Eames wasn't swimming in self-
confidence, but he was well aware by now that Arthur and Ariadne's mother liked
him a lot, and that their father had at least a passing fondness for him even
if he was far more restrained about showing it. That they were opening their
home to him only proved that they valued him in some way. He didn't understand
it, but he appreciated it at the same time that their easy generosity humbled
him.
Ariadne couldn't have been more tickled, throwing herself on Eames and
squeezing him tightly the moment she reached his house. Arthur was wary, as
though he thought Eames might be angry at him for... for going behind his back,
perhaps? Or for speaking for him? Eames wasn't sure, but whatever Arthur was
worried about, Eames wasn't upset.
It was true that he had given it a moment or two of consideration whilst
Ariadne had been on her way over. It had, after all, been a bit presumptuous of
the older boy. But Arthur had done what he'd done because he wanted Eames to
stay here in the States and not have to leave for England. How could Eames
resent that? At least without looking like an ungrateful bounder.
And he was definitely the opposite of ungrateful. In fact, he couldn't imagine
being more grateful. Arthur had done something for Eames that he could never
have done for himself, something so incredible that Eames didn't think he'd
ever be able to repay him.
Even though Eames trusted both Ariadne and Arthur implicitly, it still didn't
seem real until Mr. Saito called a couple of hours later to tell him the news.
Eames was glad that his guardian was in town on business, because otherwise
Arthur wouldn't have been able to make an appointment to meet with him, but it
did make him feel a little rejected that Mr. Saito was staying at a hotel
downtown and contacting him through email and his mobile instead of stopping by
the house. Still, Mr. Saito was a very busy man, and Eames had been doing all
right up to this point.
He'd been doing so well in large part due to Ariadne and her mothering ways, of
course, but Mr. Saito needn't know about that. Especially not now, after the
fact.
And for the foreseeable future Eames had Ariadne and Arthur to look after him
legitimately. Mr. Saito had seemed bemused, as far as Eames could parse his
elusive emotions over the phone, when he heard that Arthur's sister had already
begun packing Eames' things, but he didn't seem to mind.
"I trust you are pleased with this arrangement?" he did ask, and Eames didn't
hesitate to let Mr. Saito know just how pleased he was. Then he tacked on how
grateful he was to his guardian for his support up to this point, hoping that
it didn't sound tacked on.
Mr. Saito didn't seem offended by this, accepting the thanks graciously. He
then told Eames that he had already contacted Arthur and Ariadne's parents and
worked out the details with them, and let him know it was perfectly fine that
he go to his new home tonight.
Eames was pretty well breathless by the time he ended the call, from a
combination of nerves at speaking to his guardian and gratitude for the way
things had worked out. Robert arrived and distracted Ariadne enough that Eames
could escape into the bathroom to have a little cry -- a very little one that
didn't last overly long -- and then he splashed his face with cold water and
everyone pretended he looked fine as the four of them set about getting his
personal effects ready to shift over to Arthur and Ariadne's home.
"Are you absolutely sure it's all right with your parents?" Eames couldn't help
asking Arthur shyly. He kind of really wanted to throw his arms around Arthur
and hug him the way Ariadne had hugged Eames when she'd first shown up, but he
was too reserved and besides that he didn't feel he knew Arthur well enough.
Even though they were sort of friends now, it just wasn't his place.
"It's fine," Arthur assured him, smiling and displaying those dimples that
Eames so delighted in seeing. "That was why I went back to see Mr. Saito today
after initially meeting with him yesterday; I had the idea but I didn't want to
volunteer our home without talking to Mom and Dad first."
Eames nodded, still a bit in awe that Arthur had so successfully orchestrated
this whole thing. Not to mention being in shock over the fact that he was going
to be living with Ariadne and Arthur soon. Starting tonight, in fact. Within
hours. It was so impossible to believe and yet it was happening right now, as
they packed for it.
"Mom was already there, offering before I even asked," Arthur continued, still
smiling at Eames with what looked like legitimate fondness. "And Dad didn't
even hesitate once she'd mentioned it."
"Really?" Eames was still in shock over the fact that not only would he be
living with his best friends, but he would be living with them for the next...
well, three years, so long as they didn't get bored with him, and so long as he
didn't cock it up somehow.
"Dad likes you, Eames," Ariadne spoke up and assured him, where she and Robert
were constructing the packing boxes that Robert had purchased for use on his
way over, taping the bottoms and stacking them next to Eames' desk, ready to be
filled. Eames wasn't even sure he had enough belongings to fill all the boxes
Robert had brought, but he hadn't the heart to inform Ariadne of this; she
seemed to be having so much fun.
"He just doesn't show it very readily," Arthur added, grabbing a box and
heading for Eames' closet.
"Sort of like someone else we know," Ariadne said archly, giving her brother's
back a pointed look.
"I don't know who you're talking about, Ari," Arthur replied breezily as he
vanished into the walk-in closet that was only about one-tenths filled with
Eames' clothes. He wasn't wanting for anything, but this place had always been
too big. He'd rattled about in it like a lonely pea in a tin, and whilst a part
of him was terrified that he would be getting in the way in his new home, the
rest of him was simply thrilled to be moving there.
How many times had Ariadne said she wished that he lived with her, was really
her little brother? And now her actual older brother had gone and made that a
reality.
It still didn't seem real, even though Arthur was packing up Eames' clothes.
Even though Eames knew that they already had the guest room ready for him. Even
though he'd be having dinner at their house -- now his home as well -- and
sleeping there tonight and going to school with Ariadne on Monday....
Perhaps noticing that he was internally freaking out a little, Robert gave
Eames a silent hug and a big bracing smile before he moved to put Eames' books
neatly into one of the boxes.
Robert really had come a long way since he'd gotten together with Ariadne,
Eames thought affectionately, grabbing a box as well and moved to help everyone
else. Robert had been a nice enough guy before, as proven by the way he had
helped Eames in the locker room when Nash had been picking on him, but he'd
really opened up and become more prone to physical affection since he and Ari
had become a couple.
Of course, the same could be said of Eames, though without the "couple"
qualification. Aside from his time with Dom, which he tried not to think about
and which had only happened in private, Eames had never been a very tactile
person.
His mother had given him lots of love when he'd been too young to really
remember anything more than a warm touch and the sweet scent of roses, but his
father had been far more neglectful, and now that he was gone, Eames rarely saw
Mr. Saito. And whilst Mr. Saito had seen to his every need, he had never
embraced Eames. Not that Eames would have been comfortable if he had done so.
Mr. Saito was strong but unapproachable, like a tall stone statue that was only
meant for admiring from afar.
Ariadne, though, was prone to giving hugs, inclined to sit on people's laps,
given to offering soft touches for no real reason, and kissing cheeks to show
affection. It had made Eames feel awkward and uncomfortable at first. It had
definitely taken him a while to get used to it. But now he couldn't imagine not
hugging her back, not squeezing together on the sofa, not accepting her easy
love and trying to give love back.
That was how Robert felt as well, Eames was virtually certain. It had started
out the same as it had for Eames; with Ariadne making the first move and sort
of easing him into it, making it feel natural, and then making it simple to
extend the same treatment to others.
And despite Ariadne's claim, Arthur was much the same. Not so much with the
touching, though he didn't seem adverse to it. But more emotionally.
Now that Eames had gotten a chance to get to know Arthur, now that he wasn't
completely shut out, he could see that Arthur cared about people, that he did
his best to make sure they were happy and taken care of. Hence his
manipulations to get Eames moved in with his family, so that he didn't have to
leave and go back to England.
It was sweet and comforting, and though Eames wistfully thought that it would
have been nice if he had Arthur's regard even more intently and exclusively, he
was going to soak up every moment he could get with Arthur's attention focused
solely upon him.
Yes, he really was gone on the older boy. And that might make living with him
awkward... but only for Eames, so long as he didn't act on his emotions. He had
no intention of making a move. Doing so would be a complete disaster, would
wreck everything. He was going to be living with Ariadne and Arthur now. Not
that he'd been at all inclined to do anything that would result in him being
horribly rejected, but even less so when he was depending upon their family for
his shelter and sense of home.
"Just pack books on the bottom of the boxes, then put lighter things on top,"
Arthur suggested to Robert as he emerged from the closet for another box.
"Otherwise we won't be able to lift it."
"Good idea," Robert said, instead of getting upset at being told what to do.
Maybe they spent time together because Robert was dating Arthur's younger
sister, but they'd become friends along the way, Eames thought. The four of
them were a strange group, but they worked and that was all that really
mattered.
Robert was precise, Ariadne was very spatially organized, and Arthur was both,
so the packing didn't actually take very long, and was accomplished much more
neatly than it would have been done if Eames had been left to it himself. He'd
have been inclined to just chuck everything into the boxes and sort it out once
he got there, but Robert had a sharpie and a determination to use it to list
what was in each box. That was going to come in handy, Eames had to admit, even
though it seemed a bit excessive.
Once most everything was packed, they took a break for lunch. Eames suggested
they make sandwiches but Robert ordered a pizza and since he paid for it, they
had pizza. Eames felt a little bad. They were helping him pack and move so he
ought to have paid, but he was out of pocket money for the month, and Robert
said it didn't matter, he had plenty, so Eames swallowed his pride and simply
thanked the older youth.
"We should take everything perishable in the kitchen with us," Arthur said as
they sat at the table and ate off of napkins. "And let Mom decide what she
wants to keep."
Eames nodded. There wasn't a lot in the refrigerator and pantry, but what there
was wasn't going to be of any use to whomever moved in once Mr. Saito sold the
place. Leaving it here in the meantime would only invite pests to enter the
house.
It still didn't seem real, that Eames was not only leaving this place, but that
he was moving in with Ari and Arthur. But soon enough he would be locking the
door behind him for the final time. He wasn't going to miss the place, or miss
being on his own most of the time, but he was growing a bit anxious about his
new home.... Not because he didn't want to live with two of his three close
friends, his only friends, with his best friend, but because he was so fearful
that he was going to muck it up somehow.
"Relax," Arthur told him softly, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, smiling
at him as Ariadne got up to get a soda and Robert followed her because he was
constantly caught in her gravitation field. "You know Mom and Dad love you and
we're all happy to have you. It's going to be fine."
Eames fidgeted, feeling disappointed when Arthur withdrew his hand but
resolutely not showing it.
"I know, but...."
"We have two guest rooms," Arthur continued reasonably. "Well, one now. So you
don't need to sweat about that. Not that we have many guests, but if we do, we
still have somewhere for them to sleep. You're not a guest, though. You're
going to be living with us."
"And we're all really thrilled," Ari put in, rejoining them, handing her
brother a bottle of water. Her dark eyes glinted at Eames, sharp and fierce
with determination. "Don't think differently, okay?"
Eames nodded, swallowing thickly. He wasn't going to insult them by doubting
their words or their welcome, but he still had a hard time processing that
where he was and what he did mattered so much to them.
It was even more affecting, knowing that not only had Arthur taken note of his
growing anxiety, but he had also done his best to alleviate it. It probably
shouldn't have, but it continued to take Eames by surprise that he had somehow
become someone who was important to Arthur.
It was less surprising to realize that Arthur was someone who had become
extremely important to Eames in turn, because Arthur was amazing and nearly
perfect and the ways in which he wasn't perfect only made him that much more
interesting and fascinating. It would have been strange if he hadn't become
important to Eames once he had actually gotten to know him.
After they were done eating their lunch Arthur helped Eames to discard the
detritus and by the time they were finished with this task -- not that it took
too long -- Ari and Robert had both vanished.
Eames shook his head, smiling a bit crookedly. "Guess they're taking the
opportunity to have a last snog," he murmured, waving a hand vaguely toward the
guest room they favored. "Seeing as they're losing access after today."
Arthur snorted. "Just as well," he remarked evenly. "It's none of my business
what they do in private and I think Robert's a nice enough guy, but I'm still
Ari's older brother and I don't like the idea of them making any mistakes that
they can't take back. If you know what I mean."
Eames nodded and blushed a little, because he did. Not that he knew what it was
like to be an older brother. But even though he was a year younger than her and
not related by blood, he felt protective of Ariadne as well. And he did like
Robert, but Ari held the majority of his loyalty. He knew she was smart enough
most of the time, but the heart was a powerful and stupid motivator. Just look
at what had happened with Eames and Dom....
"I'm not a prude," Arthur continued, as though he felt the need to defend
himself. "But she is my little sister."
"I understand," Eames told him earnestly. It was one thing to approve of a
loved one's chosen partner and another thing entirely having to deal with their
sex life. Especially since Ariadne was a girl and could potentially fall
pregnant if she and Robert moved beyond snogging and weren't careful enough.
Eames trusted that Ari was smarter than that, but it still felt awkward and
kind of nasty to think of her and Robert being intimate. Not least because she
was female -- Eames was one-hundred percent sure he was one-hundred percent gay
-- but also because she was virtually family to him.
Eames did wonder a bit about Arthur's sex life, he had to admit, if only
privately to himself. And that wasn't nasty. Or, well, only in the good way.
This wasn't the first time Eames had turned his thought in this direction, even
though he did respect Arthur very much. But Eames was only a teenage boy, and
Arthur was the most attractive person he knew in real life... or, well, the
person he was most attracted to at any rate.
Eames was well aware that most people, if asked to judge impartially, would say
that Dom was more physically attractive than Arthur. Arthur was handsome, true,
with very pleasing and very pleasant features, but he wasn't as pretty as Dom.
Dom was so beautiful he almost looked feminine, and yet he was completely
masculine at the same time.
Eames himself felt that Arthur was at least as pretty as Dom, especially when
he smiled. Perhaps that was his own prejudice speaking, but there it was. Not
to mention Arthur's personality was about a hundred times more attractive than
Cobb's, always.
Arthur was out at school and not shy about it. He didn't make any kind of a
fuss over being gay but he was open and honest about it, and even if Ariadne
hadn't mentioned it to him a few times, Eames would have known. Arthur was too
popular and well liked at school to catch any flack for it, especially not when
he'd still been best friends with Dom.
And yet, Eames couldn't say that he'd ever heard about Arthur being involved
with any of his peers, either in a relationship or short term.
Eames wondered and he wanted to ask Ari, but he couldn't excuse that level of
curiosity. Ari would have told him, he was sure. But it wasn't any of his
business.
He was sure that Arthur wasn't a virgin. Ariadne had offhandedly mentioned that
much, though how she knew, Eames didn't really care to find out. Eames wouldn't
have been surprised if he'd heard that Arthur and Dom had once fooled around,
but since Dom only dated girls, that couldn't have lasted. It was certain that
Arthur had been with people before Eames had enrolled in their school, but if
he'd been with anyone after that he'd been discrete about it.
Arthur was confident and stunning and mature enough to be dating college
students, Eames thought. It was completely possible that this was what was
going on, and it was why he hadn't heard anything at school. Not since they'd
become friends, of course, but before. Even though Ariadne hadn't said
anything.... After all, Arthur had been something of a sore spot for both of
them, back when he'd been being unpleasant to Eames.
But if that had been the case -- and even more so if not -- then Arthur was
having an extended dry spell now. He didn't seem too fussed by it, Eames
thought fondly. He could sympathize. Even if he were not hung up on Arthur and
his beautifully flawed perfection, even if he hadn't been so badly burned by
Dom, it wasn't easy putting oneself out there. Even heterosexual high school
students had trouble making connections; it was even more difficult when the
pool of available partners was so much smaller.
Eames wondered if Arthur masturbated as much as he did. He wondered who Arthur
thought about when he wanked. Eames thought about Arthur pretty much
exclusively now, replacing Dom in his hazy memories with the person he cared
about legitimately now. And sometimes he felt a little embarrassed and ashamed
when he saw Arthur in school or when they were hanging out... but not enough to
cause him to stop.
"Are you feeling okay?" Arthur asked, gazing at him a trifle anxiously. Eames
was aware that he was flushed, but there was no way he could inform Arthur of
the cause for it.
Instead he nodded. "Couldn't be better," he forced himself to say cheerfully.
Because he was going to be moving in with his two most important people, and
that was so amazing that the reality of it hadn't really completely processed
yet.
He was going to be getting off in his own room to thoughts of Arthur, when
Arthur was getting off just down the hall, Eames realized in a sudden rush of
heat and an even darker flush.
"Let's get some boxes and get this food packed," he suggested, almost
frantically, ready to flee the kitchen whether Arthur followed him or not.
"All right," Arthur replied easily enough, but Eames knew he was keeping a
close eye on him as they fetched the boxes and began packing.
It was unnerving but also strangely flattering, having Arthur's full attention
like this, Eames thought. Even if it was only because he was behaving in a
peculiar fashion. Even if Arthur just wanted to be sure he was okay.
This wasn't the first time it had only been the two of them. Ari and Robert did
like to vanish off together, and Eames didn't blame them.
And, like every time before, he treasured these moments when he and Arthur were
alone. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but he wasn't enough of a goof
that he was going to question it.
He still loved Ari with all his heart. She was his best friend, she was like a
sister, she had stood by him and given him affection and attention when no one
else had, and she deserved his loyalty forever for that fact alone. Not to
mention that she was worthy of love all on her own merits, completely aside
from gratitude. Eames didn't feel he owed her; he just loved her.
But what he felt for Arthur was just as intense and a fair sight more
complicated.
Before, when Eames had only been familiar with Arthur as Ari's older brother
and Dom's friend, back when Arthur had ignored him and treated him coolly,
Eames had still thought that Arthur was worth getting to know but he hadn't had
any hope of doing so.
Now that it had somehow inexplicably happened and he was getting to know
Arthur, Eames found that he'd been right... and then some.
Arthur was handsome and had adorable dimples when he smiled. He had large,
graceful hands, long legs, and the most gorgeous rear end that Eames had ever
seen. He was warm and caring, he laughed easily, he touched with careless
affection, he was intelligent and moral and ingenious. He'd gone to Mr. Saito
and found a way to keep Eames in the country, he'd opened his home and his
heart to Eames.... And that was only a fraction of the entirety of who and what
Arthur was.
Eames wasn't going to break his own heart by reading too much into what Arthur
had done for him. He thought that if Robert had been in the same position Eames
had been in, Arthur probably would have done the same for him.
But the fact that Arthur had done what he had done for Eames, without expecting
anything at all in return... well, it made Eames' heart thump, it filled him
with warmth, it made him feel loved... even though he knew that Arthur didn't
love him, not the way Ari and Robert loved one another.
And Eames didn't....
Well.
He froze, holding a package of dry rice, poking at his feelings for Arthur in
almost the same way he had poked at the split lip Nash had given him whilst it
had been healing. This was a similar sensation, an ache that was settled in the
middle of him rather than in his mouth. More emotional than physical, but real
nonetheless.
Eames wasn't quite sure.... He knew that he loved Arthur the same way he loved
Ariadne, and in addition to that he found Arthur to be extremely desirable....
Did that equal being in love with him? And if so, how great a disaster was that
going to be?
"Eames?"
Arthur's hand was warm and heavy between his shoulderblades, somehow feeling
far more intimate there than it would have been if he'd placed it on Eames'
shoulder. It seared through the material of his shirt, and Eames wanted him to
never, ever move it, and yet he couldn't share what he was thinking and feeling
with Arthur. Not and risk destroying everything that he had.
"I'm fine," he hurried to say, giving Arthur a wide smile because he knew
Arthur liked it, even though he usually tried to smile with closed lips in
order to hide his crooked teeth. "Honestly."
"All right," Arthur said skeptically, and Eames was about ready to come out of
his skin when his large hand moved in warm spirals that were probably supposed
to be soothing but which were more likely than not to having him sporting a
hard-on within moments.
"Maybe we should have some water and sit down, though," Arthur suggested,
completely unaware of the affect he was having on Eames, no doubt reading his
flush as overexertion or some such, even though they'd only recently finished
sitting down to lunch. "Then we'll bang on the door until Ari and Robert come
out to help us load the car."
Eames nodded silently, biting at his lower lip and forcing himself to step away
from Arthur's hand before Arthur could remove it himself.
Contemplating any sort of a relationship other than friendship with Arthur
would be nothing but a fantasy, and would make things more awkward when they
were about to be living in the same house. Eames was going to have to get his
emotions in check.
Nothing, however, was going to keep him from thinking about Arthur when he
jerked off in private. Eames tried to be a good person, but no one could be
that good.
And to be honest, he didn't even want to be.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Arthur was a little concerned about Eames, but he knew better than to push when
Eames said he was fine. It was a little surprising to realize that he knew
Eames so well, but it was a pleasant realization.
Even though he'd resolved not to be like Dom and take advantage of Eames in any
way, that didn't mean that Arthur was blind to either Eames' attractiveness or
Arthur's own attraction to Eames. It had definitely gone beyond wanting to
simply be his friend a while ago....
And yet Arthur was two years older than Eames, and at the age they were now
that made a difference. He wasn't three years older, like Dom, but he also
didn't intend on following in Dom's footsteps and do anything to hurt Eames.
Besides, he was still just counting himself fortunate that Eames was willing to
be his friend, after such a long period of Arthur treating him so poorly. He
wasn't under any illusion that Eames wanted more from him than friendship.
And that was okay with Arthur, especially since he still felt he was earning
Eames' trust, but it didn't mean he didn't worry and it didn't mean he didn't
want....
Whatever had caused Eames to flush so badly in the kitchen seemed to have
passed by the time they ousted Ariadne and Robert from the guest room and got
all of Eames' things loaded into their cars.
Eames looked thoughtful and a little sad, but not very sad, as he locked the
door of the mansion he'd been living in for the final time.
"I'll miss the kitchen," he said, glancing at Ariadne. "And the way you used to
cook for me, even though you didn't have to."
"I wanted to," Ari said, in a chiding tone, but she seemed at least as
sentimental as Eames and there was no bite to her words. "I'll miss the kitchen
too," she continued, stepping forward and sweeping Eames into her arms. "But
I'm super-glad to be taking you home with me."
"With us," Arthur supplied. He didn't usually feel the need to assert himself
like that, was usually content to let people have their own moments, but it had
been his visit to Mr. Saito that had gotten them this situation in the first
place.
"Of course," Eames replied, smiling shyly at him over Ariadne's head.
"I'm gonna miss the guest room," Robert muttered, low enough that Arthur didn't
think he meant anyone to hear, and he stolidly ignored that, because euw.
Just... euw.
"Let's go," he said, because getting Eames back to their place and settled was
the priority now. Not that he minded Eames taking a moment to say goodbye to
the place he'd been living for nearly a year, but it hadn't really ever been
home. Not when it had been so big and empty, with Eames' guardian almost never
there.
It was time to get him into Arthur and Ariadne's home. Which was smaller and
more crowded, but warmer and happier, and it had both Arthur and Ariadne living
in it. Soon all three of them would be living there -- plus Arthur and
Ariadne's parents, of course -- and it was going to be awesome.
Arthur was willing to bet, though, that Eames was going to regret giving up
having his own bathroom.
Especially the first school day morning that Ariadne spent half an hour getting
ready.
+++
Getting settled into his new room was a little rough on Eames, but getting
settled in his new home was easy.
He'd already spent so much time in Ariadne and Arthur's house, especially after
he and Arthur had become friends, that there wasn't really anything new
there... except that he didn't have to leave for Mr. Saito's silent, lonely
manor at the end of the day. He stayed every night, and when he retired he did
so to his very own bedroom.
He unpacked his clothing first. There was a narrow closet -- much more suited
in size to his wardrobe than the walk-in closet at the manor -- and a dresser.
He wanted to unpack his books next, but since other things were piled on top of
them, he ended up unloading most everything.
Not that he had much. His father had traveled a lot and so Eames hadn't had
much, growing up. Mr. Saito had given him a generous allowance, telling him to
spend anything left over after groceries on anything that he wanted, but he had
never really wanted much.
So it didn't really take him long to unpack, and once he did, his room still
felt... empty. Impersonal. Even though it was a fair bit smaller than his room
at the manor.
There was a plush lizard Ariadne had gotten him, which he put on the shelf with
his books. Robert had given him some puzzles, which was odd, but Eames set
those carefully on the bottom shelf and promised himself he'd try doing them
some time. And the sketchbook and pastels that Arthur had thrust at him once,
after admiring some silly sketches Eames had done in the margins of his English
notes during a boring class ended up right there on the desk, along with his
laptop and other stationary.
Eames still blushed, thinking that Arthur had bought the sketchbook and pencils
just for him. And he felt bad for not having used them so far, but he'd yet to
feel the tug of Inspiration. Things had been too stressful lately, he mused.
But they ought to calm soon enough.
He felt at home in the den, in the kitchen, in Ariadne's bedroom... but he
still felt like an awkward guest in his own room. He sort of assumed that
feeling would pass, but in the meantime it made him feel a bit edgy.
Ariadne did what she could to ease his transition, but shortly after he had
moved, she and Robert had realized that they could use the guesthouse on his
father's property the same way they'd been using the guest rooms in Mr. Saito's
manor, and that meant that she was absent a lot more than she had used to be.
Eames missed her, but he didn't actually mind too much. He loved her like a
sister, it was true, but she really was trying a little too hard. And he was
friends with Arthur now... not to mention possibly in love with the older boy,
and so time spent alone with him was golden.
He still treasured any time spent with Ariadne, of course. And Robert was still
a fine fellow who'd stood up to Nash for Eames when no one else had done, that
day in the locker room. But being alone with Arthur.... Well, it was both
glorious and agonizing at once.
Not to mention, even though Ari had been so careful to always make Eames feel
welcomed and he'd never really felt as though he was a third wheel, he was
pleased now that she was able to spend some one-on-one time with Robert. They
were wonderful people who made a glorious couple, and they deserved to spend
time getting to know one another without either Eames or Arthur present.
Though Eames resolutely did not think about the ways in which they were getting
to know one another. He comforted himself with the knowledge that they were
both intelligent enough to know to use birth control.
With Ariadne so often away, now, Arthur slid in smoothly to fill that space.
The four of them still hung out, and Ari was still painting Eames' nails twice
a week at school, during lunch, but in the afternoon, at home after school, it
was very often Arthur and Eames alone.
This was doing nothing to quell Eames' growing feelings for Arthur. In fact, it
only exacerbated the situation. Being around Arthur made Eames flush hot, made
his heart beat faster, made him get hard in his pants....
Eames was a fifteen year old boy. Wanking it at least twice daily had been
routine for quite some time. But now it became a dire necessity, sharing a
house with Arthur as he was.
Not just the house, but the bathroom. When he bathed in the morning, minutes
after Arthur had finished, Eames breathed in the faint scent of Arthur that
lingered in the shower. Mostly it was the cologne and bathing supplies that
Arthur used, but Eames was sure he could also catch a whiff of Arthur's clean
skin and fresh sweat. It might be just his imagination, but it was enough to
have him wrapping his hand around his prick and he came hard with the
visualization of Arthur having done the same, right where he was standing,
within the same quarter of an hour.
Eames thought that he might go mad, but he wouldn't have given up this
situation for anything and he still owed Arthur for getting it set up with Mr.
Saito.
It didn't help his near perpetual erection that the closer he and Arthur
became, the more handsy Arthur got. Eames had zero complaints over this, and it
wasn't like the way Ariadne would fall all over his lap if she felt like it,
but Arthur would touch him, a warm palm to his shoulderblade, a lingering pat
to his chest, and Arthur kept smiling at Eames. With those dimples and the warm
brown eyes that crinkled at the corners and a light in his gaze that clearly
proclaimed that he meant his smiles.
And Eames found himself smiling back, even though he knew better, even though
he knew that his teeth were wonk. To his credit, Arthur didn't seem to mind his
ugly chompers. Ariadne had told him once that Arthur found them "charming" but
Eames was pretty sure she'd just been putting the wind up, and that this was a
patented untruth.
Not that Ariadne really ever lied to him....
But that was easier to believe than that Arthur liked Eames' ugly teeth.
When Eames tossed off in the shower it was to the thought of Arthur bathing
there as well. When he tossed off at night in his bed it was to the memory of
Arthur's hand resting on him, somewhere, anywhere, large and strong but so
gentle....
Eames had begun using his allowance to buy himself boxes of tissue and he had
gone most of the way through an industrial size bottle of scent-free lotion. It
was a little embarrassing -- even though the clerk at the grocery hadn't seemed
to care what he was buying -- but this was a matter of survival.
He was virtually certain that Arthur had no idea what he was doing to him.
Arthur was a sweet and conscientious guy who would never tease anyone
deliberately or cause someone else discomfort if he could prevent it. This was
all on Eames; the way his brain and his body were responding to Arthur's
perfectly normal friendly actions.
It wasn't Arthur's fault that Eames' body was hyper-reactive to every touch,
nor was it Eames' fault. It just was and so Eames dealt with it as best he
could.
Even though that meant an awful lot of self-administered tug-jobs.
It was what Eames had to do in order to deal with living in the same house as
the object of his affections.
***
Arthur really, really didn't want to think about what his baby sister was
getting up to with Robert, and so he turned most of his attention and focus on
Eames.
This wasn't really fair to Eames, but it was no hardship. Arthur had sincere
feelings for the younger boy, so it wasn't exactly wrong either.
Except for the way that it kind of was. Eames was only fifteen and he'd already
been despoiled and had his heart broken by Dom. Hell, he'd been victimized and
then bullied, largely because of Dom and his selfish lies. Granted, Nash had
been acting on his own, but there were other kids at school who tended to speak
badly of Eames whether he was in earshot or not, and that was definitely Dom's
fault.
Arthur kind of wished he could punch his former best friend in the nose. He'd
have deserved it.
But he couldn't do so without getting into trouble, and besides, it was a wrong
against Eames so it was Eames' right to get vengeance, not Arthur's. Even
though Arthur hated when someone he cared about suffered, for any reason.
Eames didn't seem to mind horribly. He was cheerful at home, fitting in right
away, quiet and shy but clearly happy to be there. He'd already become family.
And at school he was withdrawn but not to the point that Arthur worried about
him. He spent time with Arthur, Robert, and Ariadne, together or separately. He
ignored those who spoke poorly about him, and Arthur hoped it was because he
really didn't care, and wasn't just a brave facade he was putting on.
For the first time ever, Arthur found himself glad that he was still a junior.
Before, he'd itched to graduate along with Dom and go off to college at the
same time as his best friend. But his priorities had changed. Now he was
grateful that he'd have another year of high school, another year of attending
in the same building as Eames, even if they were, obviously, in all different
classes.
Actually, if he'd tried harder Arthur could have been advanced. But he'd seen
what sort of crap kids had to deal with when they were skipped ahead. He'd seen
what Eames had had to deal with. One friend and a lot of people brushing him
off.... Of course, Arthur could have overcome all of that easily enough. Eames
was shy and Arthur was confident. But it had been easier to keep his schoolwork
to a level only slightly above his classmates than it would have been to adjust
to a whole new set of classmates.
Arthur wasn't lazy or afraid. He just saw the value in making sure that he was
always slightly underestimated. Then he had room to work around people and
occasionally surprise them when and if he felt like it.
At any rate, it had worked out for the best, because instead of leaving town
for college somewhere after graduation he still had another year of sharing his
living quarters with Eames.
Pleasurable torment that it was, considering how badly he was coming to want to
just drag Eames into his bed and thoroughly claim him.
But, again, that was what Dom had done, and that was what Arthur would not do.
No matter how badly he wanted to, and how much more badly he wanted to the more
he got to know Eames.
They had so many interests in common. Art, literature, and a mutual hatred for
reality television, though for different reasons. They usually agreed on food,
never agreed on beverages, and Eames had asked Arthur for guidance as he began
working-out in an earnest effort to put on more muscle mass.
It was like a subtle form of torture, Arthur sometimes thought. Being so close
to Eames and having the other boy look to him for so much, trust him with so
much of himself, and yet to be unable to take that last step and just kiss
those lush red lips that tempted him so badly.
On the other hand, Arthur wouldn't have given up Eames' friendship for
anything. Setting his own desires and feelings aside, he'd come to think of
Eames as his closest friend. Dom was really nothing but a memory, though Arthur
nodded at him sometimes from across the cafeteria on his way to sit with
Ariadne, Robert, and Eames. Dom didn't seem to mind. He might miss Arthur's
company, but he was all caught up in his relationship with Mal, and he never
sought Arthur out.
It had been silent and almost incidental, but Arthur had made his opinion on
the whole situation with Eames known and had clearly chosen his side. Dom was
probably just glad not to be fielding that punch to the nose that Arthur still
wanted to give him. He definitely knew how protective Arthur could be, and had
to know that Arthur would be feeling so toward Eames.
Case in point. Arthur walked into the cafeteria with the bag lunch Ariadne had
made for him in hand, letting his eyes sweep the room, and there was Dom in one
corner with his golden hair sunk close to Mal's stylish brunette bob, and there
in the opposite corner was Ariadne bent over Eames' hands, as she diligently
polished his nails. Robert had yet to join them; swim team had gotten out early
but track was running late, so he'd probably be in later.
Arthur kept trying to convince Robert to join the swim team, and Robert kept
trying to convince Arthur to join the track team. Arthur didn't think either of
them was ever going to give in, but they both kept trying.
At least they didn't have a rivalry going on. Arthur knew who Ari would end up
cheering for if that had happened, and his pride couldn't take it.
"Hey, Arthur," Eames drawled, smiling up at Arthur. It was the closed-lip smile
because they were in school, but Arthur kind of liked that Eames kept the full,
adorable smile only for him, in private. Well, Arthur and Ari and their
parents. But still.
"Hey, Eames," Arthur greeted, and as always he suffered a moment of indecision.
Sit next to Eames so that he could feel his body heat and smell the clean-sweat
smell of his skin, or sit across from him so that he could see every expression
that crossed the younger boy's face.
In the end he did what he usually did and sat beside Eames; mostly because he
knew that Robert would want the spot next to Ariadne.
"Ari make your lunch too?" he asked, knocking his shoulder into Eames'. He
already knew the answer to that; as if Ariadne would make his lunch and not
Eames' as well.
"Uh-huh," Eames nodded, indicating the bag beside his elbow, but he left his
hands where they were.
Ariadne was painting his nails a matte black, and Arthur snorted internally,
because he already knew that the polish was going to chip faster than usual.
Thanks to his baby sister and Eames, he knew far more about nail polish than
probably any other guy his age; at least one who attended this school. Far more
than he'd ever wanted to, but for some reason he found it cute and charming
that Eames let Ari paint his nails and that he wound up bitching about the
chips, though only to Arthur, and only where Ari couldn't hear.
Personally, Arthur liked it when Eames' nail polish chipped and wore off around
the edges. It made him look more like a boy wearing polish and less like a girl
with a perfect manicure. He'd told Eames so, even, and had been both amused and
captivated by the warm flush this had brought to the apples of Eames' cheek,
the bridge of his nose, and the tips of his pointy ears.
"You'll be able to eat in a few minutes," Ariadne informed Eames, even though
he hadn't complained.
"I know," he said evenly, smiling fondly at her bowed head.
Arthur smiled as well, at both of them, and then dug into his own bag. He
didn't need to wait, and after swimming hard and fast for the better part of an
hour he was starving.
He bit into the generous sandwich Ariadne had packed him, glad that she'd left
off the onions. Usually their Mom made them their lunches, but sometimes she
was busy and Ari always volunteered before Arthur could. It wasn't that Arthur
couldn't make food.... But a hot meal was more his forte than a bag lunch was.
His sandwiches tended to fall apart and whenever he tried to include a dessert
it either got squashed or leaked everywhere, depending on what it was.
Eames had offered more than once to make their lunches, but Ari had told him
no, and he'd politely bowed to her superior will. Arthur called her bossy and
controlling, but Eames was more tactful than that.
While Arthur ate and Ariadne screwed the cap back on the polish bottle then
turned her head to kiss Robert in greeting as he slid onto the seat beside her,
Arthur took note of the fact that Eames' shoulder was almost even with his own.
That was new. But then, Eames was fifteen, and he was eating regularly and well
now -- or would be once his polish dried -- so it only made sense that he'd hit
a grown spurt when Arthur hadn't really been looking.
Arthur eyed Eames as casually as he could while Eames waved his hands a little,
then began carefully plucking things out of his lunch bag. Eames was closer to
Arthur's size than Ariadne's now, and Arthur hadn't even really noticed it
happening. Eames' sleeves didn't go all the way to his knuckles anymore, and
Arthur could see the material of his shirt stretching over his biceps as he
moved his arms.
His brows rose. Huh. All the working out really had done Eames some good. He
was still about as wiry and lean as Arthur was, and he was still a bit shorter,
but he wasn't any longer nearly as tiny and thin as Ariadne.
He'd been a slip of a thing when he'd first moved here, and Arthur still held
that Dom was a huge pervert for having seduced him when he'd been so young and
virginal. But that was in the past. Eames was still only fifteen, was very
clearly two years younger than Arthur, but he was beginning to grow into the
man he would someday be, and he looked more like someone who could hold their
own in bed with another guy.
Arthur swallowed his mouthful and tried not to scowl, firmly telling his hard-
on to go away. The school cafeteria was not the place for an erection, nor was
it the place to be thinking filthy thoughts about the boy sitting next to him.
Even though the heated length of Eames' thigh was pressing against his own,
firm and solid and awfully tempting. If Arthur switched to eating with one
hand, he'd be able to reaching under the table and palm the hard muscles....
But he had no right to do so. He and Eames were just friend, nothing like that,
and Eames probably didn't even know he was touching Arthur.
While Arthur wrestled internally with himself, Ariadne was talking about some
movie she wanted to see with Robert, trying to convince him that a fusion of
sci fi and kung-fu wasn't a waste of time, and Eames was smirking at them as he
ate twice as fast as Arthur, as though to make up for the time he'd lost
waiting for his nails to dry.
Arthur had no desire to see the film in question, and he was glad that Ari
wasn't insisting that he join them. That was one of the things he disagreed
with Eames on; as far as Arthur was concerned, a movie that was bad couldn't be
entertaining because it was bad. That wasn't the way cinema worked. Eames
bought into the whole "So bad it's good" thing, though he at least admitted
that it was rarely applicable.
"Eames, do you wanna see it?" Ari asked, startling Eames as he stole some chips
from her lunch. He looked up at her with big eyes, and Arthur placing a hand on
his upper back before he thought. He knew that Eames probably didn't need to be
grounded that way, but sometimes he looked as though he did.
"Uh." Eames popped the chips in his mouth and chewed before replying. "I
thought you guys were going on a date."
Ariadne scoffed. "Please. If it was a date, we'd be going to see a chick
flick."
"What?" Arthur couldn't help blurting. Since when did either Ari or Robert go
see chick flicks?
"Seeing a movie we want to see isn't a date," Ariadne declared, which didn't
clarify things much until she continued, "Going on a date requires a movie you
can make out through."
Arthur rolled his eyes. Ari and Robert had an entire guesthouse where they
could do far more than make out. Why waste the money on a movie ticket if they
weren't going to watch the film?
Robert was blushing a little and Arthur badly wanted to laugh at him, but he
restrained himself. Better not to get on Ariadne's bad side. Ever. He'd spent
enough time there back when he'd been treating Eames coldly.
"No thank you, Ari," Eames politely declined, beginning to neatly pack away the
detritus from his lunch. "But I appreciate the invite."
Robert started whining about how he really didn't want to see the movie, but
Arthur tuned him out in favor of speaking to Eames.
"Did you want to go clothes shopping?" he asked quietly, as Ariadne told Robert
on no uncertain terms that he was taking her to see the movie. "You're starting
to grow out of your current wardrobe."
Eames blinked at him, long lashes flickering, and he looked torn between
delight and dismay. "I won't come out looking like you, will I?"
Arthur wasn't insulted; he really couldn't imagine Eames dressing the way he
dressed. It would have looked good, but also ridiculous. On the other hand, he
was pretty sure he could see Ariadne's hand a little too heavily in the things
that Eames wore now. He was curious to see how Eames would dress himself if he
was given free choice on the matter.
Ariadne was currently making a deal with Robert, that if the movie really was
too awful to enjoy then they could spend it making out after all, and Arthur
hurried to complete his conversation with Eames before she realized what they
were talking about.
"Not at all," he assured Eames. "Not unless you want to. But you might not come
out looking quite so much like a hipster, either."
Eames pulled an adorable face and glanced over at Ari himself. "Okay, sure," he
said, and smiled shyly at Arthur.
Arthur did his very best to not think about Eames trying on clothes for him,
stripping down in the dressing rooms, and tried to will his hard-on away before
the end of the lunch period.
Lunch was very much not a good time for an erection, damn it, but Eames' thigh
was still warm beside his. It was hard and getting harder by the minute. Pun
most definitely intended.
Arthur was seventeen and he'd thought he was past the whole getting-hard-
during-school thing. He really had.
Leave it to Eames and his casual beauty to prove him wrong. Arthur wished that
he could be more resentful and less enthralled by this fact.
***
Ariadne could tell immediately when Arthur took Eames clothes shopping. It
wasn't as though she knew every single piece of Eames' wardrobe... only she
totally did. And it wasn't like one or two new things showed up. It was a
complete overhaul.
Eames still wore jeans more fitted than the norm, but they were closer to boot-
cut than skinny, and she had to admit that they showcased his lengthening legs
and tiny rear even more than the jeans she'd chosen for him. She wasn't sure
whether Arthur had picked the new style out or if Eames had chosen them
himself, but they were definitely flattering.
His taste in shirts hadn't actually changed that much. Eames still tended to
favor long sleeves and a loose fit around the torso. But Ariadne suddenly
noticed that Eames had more of a torso for the material to drape over.
She'd always known that Eames would shoot up and out once he started eating
regularly. And he was working out with Arthur, which could only help. It was
pretty nice to see the results of this, though, and to note that Eames was
starting to look pretty hot.
Eames had traded in his converse sneakers for hiking boots, and he had a brand
new leather jacket that Ariadne was deeply jealous of. Evidently he'd been
sitting on the clothing allowance he got from Mr. Saito for a while, and had
gone all out when given the push to get out there and go shopping.
And it had evidently been Arthur who had decided to give him that push.
Ariadne was really glad that Arthur had thought of it. Not just because she
thought it was healthy for Eames to choose his own clothes rather than playing
at being her little dress-up doll --though it had been fun to choose his
wardrobe for him once they'd become friends, and she regretted nothing -- but
also because it meant that Arthur and Eames had spent some serious one-on-one
time together.
After all, what was more personal than clothing shopping? Even if Eames had
been the only one buying new clothes, it was still something that Arthur had
talked him into doing and Eames had taken Arthur along, to offer his input and
probably to keep him going when he wanted to give up. Ariadne had practically
had to drag him around by the hand when she'd taken him shopping, so she knew.
Eames seemed almost apologetic that he'd shifted from the style that she'd
picked out for him, so she made sure to compliment him on each new outfit that
he wore. Arthur was smug, so she punched him in the upper arm, but he was her
older brother so he could probably tell that she was proud of him as well.
She wasn't sure what was stopping Arthur from just making his move, especially
now that Eames was living with them, but she suspected that the reason started
with a "D" and ended with an "M"... or a "B" if one went with said reason's
full name.
Dominic Cobb was such a creeper, and now he was completely cockblocking
Ariadne's brother and her best friend, just through the memory of what he'd
done. It infuriated Ariadne, to know that not only had Dom deflowered and
dumped Eames when he'd practically been a baby still, but that now the mere
knowledge that he had done so was almost definitely the reason Arthur was
holding off on letting Eames know he was interested in him.
Robert was still urging that she not get involved, and she was smart enough to
know that it would be a really bad idea... but it was also really hard to just
stand by and watch them pine over one another when neither one was willing to
make a move.
Because that was what they were doing, there was no doubt about it. Ariadne had
used to think it was mostly wishful thinking on her part, but now that they
were all living in the same house she was certain that this interest was
mutual.
Being one half of a happy, successful couple, she obviously wanted those she
cared about to be as happy and successful as she and Robert were. But instead,
the spectre of Dom Cobb hung over Arthur's head, keeping him from acting on his
affections. And Eames was just too shy and insecure to hit on Arthur. He was
probably afraid that doing so would ruin their friendship.
If Ariadne had thought it would do any good to just tell Eames that Arthur was
interested in him, she'd have done so in a heartbeat. But that way lay
disaster, and while it was tough to keep her nose out of it, she tried her best
to be circumspect and leave them to muddle through things on their own.
That didn't mean that she couldn't manufacture reasons for them to have to
spend time together. As if they needed her encouragement for that. But she
really hoped that when they went out with her and Robert that it felt as much
like a double date to Arthur and Eames as it did to her.
It was just this incredibly frustrating stalemate. And she knew that Robert was
right when he urged her to stay out of it, but that didn't make it any less
frustrating. Especially when Arthur and Eames were both living in the same
house as her, not to mention living in the same house as each other.
Ariadne had really thought and hoped that once Eames moved in with them, that
this would advance his and Arthur's potential relationship forward. And, yeah,
they were becoming closer and closer friends, which was good. It was great, in
fact, because Ariadne had never liked the fact that Eames had no one but her,
as much as she loved him and loved being his friend.
But she knew, she knew that they could be wonderful together, as an adorable
couple, and it was making her crazy that they were both balking from taking
that final step.
So even though she knew it was a bad idea and a potential disaster, it was
getting increasingly more difficult to keep from playing matchmaker and doing
something, anything to get the two of them to acknowledge their feelings and
get together.
It wasn't selfish to want all three of the most important people in her life to
be as happy as they could be, was it? Where was the harm in wishing that Arthur
and Eames had what she and Robert had?
If she could just figure out how to get them there. Preferably without anyone
knowing she was involved. It shouldn't be too hard. After all, she was smart
and resourceful and inventive. Not to mention determined.
She just needed to dream up some way to get Arthur and Eames together.
She could do this.
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