I. Cobb
"I love you." Cobb was on the edge of crying, his hands holding Arthur's.
"Uhm…" Arthur tried to break free from Cobb's grip, it started to hurt. He didn't know what to say to Cobb, who was obviously too thrilled to care the inappropriateness of that statement in all sorts of ways. Cobb hugged (to suffocate) him one last time and went around the house to scare others with his emotional outburst.
"What was that all about?" a voice with a distinctive British accent suddenly snapped him out of petrifaction.
"Looks like Cobb really enjoys his wedding rehearsal party." and had had too much wine, he added mentally.
"Because he has the best point man to plan the whole thing." Eames looked at him, bemused by the look on Arthur's face, a subtle pride hidden beneath that nonchalant expression, "For a moment I was actually jealous of him, you know."
"I didn't know you felt that way about Mal," Arthur's face tensed a bit.
"It's not Mal I am talking about," he looked at Arthur, giving the man a once over and took off, "better go before he tries to grope me."
Arthur didn't give much thought on their conversation, being both Cobb's best man and his wedding planner left him little time to ponder on Eames' innuendos. He reached into his pocket, just to make sure Cobb's wedding ring wasn't stolen by the British forger.
II. Ariadne
"Thanks Arthur, you know I love you, right?" Ariadne was very hard to turn down when she was all glassy-eyed and man wasn't that girl persuasive. Besides, it was far better to go shopping with Ariadne than staying in the warehouse with Eames. So Arthur went to the farmer's market with her, now he was standing uncomfortably among piles of pumpkins, still wearing his three piece suit. He winced at the dirt smudged on his sleeves. If it wasn't Ariadne, he would probably have the other pay for the dry cleaning, but who can refuse a pretty architect?
That idea went old really quick when he had to carry an armful of freshly dug up potatoes to his car. "Why can't you ask Cobb for this?" he carefully placed the veggies into the trunk, a little upset about his suit and his car, "I'm sure he'd love to help."
"Because he has to pick up Phillipa and James, and you're the only decent cook in this team."
Arthur sighed inwardly, the idea of "family dinner" in Ariadne's newly purchased apartment wasn't as appealing as it first sounded now.
"Never took you as the cooking type," Eames looked at his apron, didn't try to hide his smirk.
"Shut up, Mr. Eames, if you don't want unexpected ingredients in your bloody soup." Arthur gave him his best threatening face, it didn't work well with a bowl of cake mixing in his arm.
"Never mess with the chef," Eames tasted a bite of the cake dough, "you might want to add some cinnamon."
Arthur scowled and turned to check the soup. He might have added a spoonful of cinnamon powder later on, but it had nothing to do with Eames.
III. Yusuf
"Arthur, you are the love of my life!"
"No I'm so not," he said wearily, "and this is the last time I smuggle drugs for you."
"These are not drugs!" Yusuf said defensively, "they are the state-of-art ecstasies."
"The definition of drugs." Arthur pointed out. He took out the little plastic bags he carefully hid into the suitcase, and lined them up on Yusuf's desk. The chemist looked at the illegal chemicals like his cat looking at catnips. Arthur just could not bring himself to blame Yusuf anymore.
"Yusuf, you shan't corrupt our most righteous stick in the mud." But Yusuf had already run away with his newly obtained toys.
"Eames," it was always Eames. Arthur didn't have to look to see the smugness on the forger's face, and he tried not to notice the warmth in Eames' eyes, or the curve of his lips.
"You know," Eames picked up a small tube filled with unidentifiable yellow liquid, "one drop of this you'll be so high that you can't remember your mother's maiden name afterwards."
"And you're saying?" Arthur tightened his lips, showing no interests in that subject.
"I think I can give you something better than that." Eames carefully put the tube back, knuckles brushing over Arthur's hand even so slightly.
A sudden warmth rushed through his body, whatever Eames was suggesting made his face grow hot. Arthur quickly walked out of the room, he was sure Eames noticed the redness of his neck (hell, a blind grandmother could have noticed).
IV. Saito
Arthur,
Thanjk you very much for taking care of my little problens. I hope you like the suit, I bought the designer's company ha ha.
Love,
Saito
Arthur pinched his nose after reading that email. He can practically hear Saito saying those words, and it was more than disconcerting. Being drunk wasn't the best time to write thank you notes, Arthur suppressed the idea to tell him that. After all, it was a very nice suit.
"Hmm…" hot breath with a hint of tobacco blew on his ear, Eames had no respect for personal space or privacy, how unsurprising.
"Shut up, Eames." Arthur cut him off from whatever he was going to say.
"Darling," Eames used one elbow to support his face, he was gazing at Arthur, who was pretending not to notice, "I was going to ask if you would be so kind as to help with my little problems."
Arthur could not decide if it was the wrong vowels or it was Eames' tone that made this sounded almost dirty. He didn't reply anyway. Well, his upper body didn't reply anyway.
V. Eames
"Arthur, I want to make this right."
They were standing on a cliff, dark clouds rolling underneath their feet. Eames' voice was almost drowned in the thunder and the music.
"Is that why you dream up a fucking apocalypse?" Arthur frowned at the dark clouds. He wished he could wake up before the lightening stroke him during the jump.
"Because I will love you till the end of the world," Eames laughed, and fell into the abyss, "No regrets, love." His eyes were on Arthur's face all the time until dark clouds devoured him.
Arthur's mouth curled up a little, grand gestures, how very Eames. Then he took a deep breath, and jumped.
"You know I mean it, don't you." Eames tilted his head, looking at Arthur from the armchair. If Arthur didn't know better, he would say Eames looked unsettled.
"Sure I do." He said flatly, as if they were just talking about weather. Now Eames really looked unsettled. Arthur sighed audibly: "Mr. Eames, you can be a gentleman and take me out for dinner, or you can come over here and kiss me right now."
"I'd rather do both," he grinned before he could not remember how to breathe.