#perfectpairingisperfect

tom got it

arthur and eames

“Oh,” Eames says. “Yeah?” Arthur grunts. “Uh huh,” Eames says, eyes rolling. “Nnh,” Arthur says. “Right—like—” “Yeah—” “Oh, that, oh, oh,” Eames says, spilling over his stomach. “Shit,” Arthur whispers, slumping forward, rolling his hips twice more before he stills. “Arthur?” Eames says, once he’s got his breath back. His knees are sweaty over Arthur’s slack elbows and he thinks Arthur might be drooling on him. “Arthur?” Arthur snores. “Really?” Eames says.

He stood up, because it was painful to sit, and he told Arthur about Tony, and how he despised himself for being gay, and sometimes took it out on Eames, the living embodiment of what he hated about himself. He'd moved them out of their old apartment building because neighbours were starting to complain about their fighting, and in his opinion, the less people who knew he was living with Eames, the better. He regularly saw his ex-girlfriend, to keep up appearances in case his colleagues found out about him, and Eames suspected they were still sleeping together. But he loved Eames despite all this and was terrified of losing him. “It's not worth it,” said Arthur, as soon as Eames told him this. “You've got to leave him, Eames.”