vampire trash? me?

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[It's been on his mind a lot over the last few weeks, the idea of becoming a vampire. Partially because he's looking older than Arthur these days, and if he lets that go on too long it's going to get pretty weird, but moreover he just feels ready]

[Anxious as fuck, but ready.]

[The idea of it is terrifying — he'd gone to Mal for an explanation of the finer details rather than worry Arthur with his questions, seeing as she's actually done it before and Arthur hasn't — the idea that he could just... Die. It's not one that sits easy with Eames. He rather likes being alive, in fact half the point of becoming a vampire is to keep being alive, for a stretch on the word, forever.]

[So he's been dealing with that a lot, pretending otherwise whenever Arthur notices him being distant or pensive so he can work out his feelings on this without any outside influence. He knows Arthur wouldn't be mad if he changed his mind, it's a huge change to undertake, but it's not that he might not want this so much as wondering if the risks are really worth it.]

[They are.]

[But now they need to talk about it, so Eames is psyching himself up to do exactly that. Offered to stay in and make dinner while Arthur's off doing his errands to give himself some time alone to think about it. Maybe making some significant progress on a bottle of wine to calm his nerves, maybe it'll slow him down enough Arthur won't realise how keyed up he is the second he gets home.]

Comments

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[Eames stops mid-step, suddenly overcome with affection for this old man and how soppy and sentimental he gets, and he tugs on Arthur's hand.]

Come here.

[He wants a kiss and he wants it now.]

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[Arthur turns, grinning, and slips a hand around Eames' waist to rest on the curve of his spine, leaning in to kiss him so goddamn tenderly you'd think one of them had just proposed or something. He's just so overcome with love for this ridiculous man and it feels good to express it.]

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[He wasn't expecting this kind of kiss, and it almost makes Eames laugh. A much more significant part of him just melts into it with a soft exhale, resting his hands and locking his fingers together at the small of Arthur's back. He almost wishes they were at home so they could spend a while just doing this, and when he pulls away he's reticent to move more than the space he needs to be able to speak, soft and quiet.]

I love you.

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[Arthur noses at Eames' face affectionately, not at all interested in moving away any time soon.]

I love you too.

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[He stays where he is with a smile on his face, eventually pulling his hands around to rest on Arthur's chest and give him a light push.]

Come on. I need some of that cheap beer.

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[Arthur doesn't pull away right away, smiling affectionately and a little playfully at Eames for a moment before he finally drops his arms and takes one of Eames' hands again. It's not a terribly long walk to the bar, but Arthur does savour the time they have before they get there and he has to put on his slightly more serious face.]

[It's kind of a dingy place, but it has its character. It's off the beaten trail on purpose, since the target demographic is mostly vampires and humans who are in the know. There are only a few populated tables and a couple people at the bar, but the classic rock playing over the speakers is loud enough that the conversations are still mostly private. Arthur smells a couple humans at a table in the back right away but otherwise it's all vampires in here, including the woman behind the bar who nods at him as he enters. She looks to be in her 50's or so but Arthur knows she's late into her second century, with enough of a grip on herself and the unwritten rules that she runs a pretty tight ship - Arthur's only had to tell her off for having someone feeding off a human in the bathroom once or twice in the past year, which is better than he can say for most vampire-run establishments in the area.]

[In any case, he's pleasant as he introduces Eames, leading him to the bar with his hand on the small of Eames' back and casually stepping around him so he's between Eames and the humans in the back. She nods and says it's nice to meet the man who's kept Arthur from snapping all their necks in recent years before she serves up a couple beers and Arthur nods at an empty table and asks if Eames wants to go sit down away from the bar.]

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[Eames is perfectly pleasant, if obviously distracted by the humans in the back, and makes his small talk while they wait for their drinks.]

[He's a little relieved by the suggestion of moving to the table and he nods, picking up his drink and doing his best to look nonchalant as they walk over and sit down.]

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[Arthur’s careful to keep himself between Eames and the rest of the bar, though he’s smooth enough about it that no one would notice unless they’re watching for it. He shuffles in closer and drapes his arm across the back of Eames’ chair, leaning back to give him some space]

Still doing okay?

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[Eames turns his body toward Arthur, ostensibly just paying attention to his boyfriend here, but mostly it's just so he can focus on Arthur and try to block out everything else.]

God-- I can smell them.

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Mmhmm.

[He lifts his thumb off the back of the chair just to give Eames' back a little reassuring brush, smirking a little.]

You can imagine now what it was like for me whenever I was hungry and stuck at your apartment.

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I told you to keep blood in my fridge and you thought it was "too weird".

[He rolls his eyes as he talks, but it's good-natured and he has a smile on his face at the same time.]

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[Arthur laughs softly.]

It was.

[He drops his free hand to Eames' knee to give it a brief and affectionate rub.]

Can you smell everything else going on in here as well?

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[Eames bows his head and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath while he tries to filter through the scents in the room and everything else trying to grab his attention.]

[Then he wrinkles his nose in disgust and looks up at Arthur like he's been personally betrayed.]

Well, I can smell the bathrooms pretty clearly.

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[Arthur wrinkles his nose too and laughs.]

Don't go that far. What about the expensive whiskey behind the bar?

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It's so hard to ignore now.

[He huffs a deeply put-upon sigh and closes his eyes again, the thought that a directional sense of smell would be useful briefly going through his head as he tries to find the smell of whiskey through all the noise. It takes him a little longer than it took to find the bathroom, but knowing what he's looking for helps.]

[After some time, he furrows his brow and looks up at Arthur again.]

How much is that? It smells good.

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One-fifty a bottle, I think. She certainly charges enough by the glass.

[Arthur glances over at the bar to receive a look from the bartender, which he returns with a wry smile.]

Sometimes it's nicer to focus on another smell, try picking that apart to distract yourself.

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[Eames hums softly in understanding and keeps trying to focus on that instead of anything that might make him act out.]

There's a lot of stuff.

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There is. It's not about itemizing the bar, just about... not focusing in on the one thing you can't have, even if it's the first thing that hits you. Sometimes it's going to feel like you can't live without it, but as long as you keep yourself somewhat fed that isn't actually true. You'll make it another few hours if that's how long it takes us to get home and heat up something from the fridge.

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[Eames nods in understanding and repeats the important parts of that in his head, as much as he wants it right now, he can wait. It'll be fine. His lips pull up in a slight smirk after a moment or two though, and he puts his hand over Arthur's.]

You know, you smell really good.

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[Arthur laughs softly again, glancing away, a little bashful. He manages to speak in a tone that's just mildly curious.]

Do I?

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Yeah.

[He only lays on the flirtatiousness for another moment before he tilts his head in thought, considering it more fully.]

Maybe it's because I'm already so familiar with your smell, so it's... Comforting.

[He pauses, and before it gets too serious, he adds:] Or maybe it's because you keep stealing my shower gel.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur might be blushing if he had the bloodflow to do it, but he laughs bashfully enough to get the point across, looking down at his lap.]

Well, maybe I use your shower gel because it reminds me of the way you smell.

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Eventually we're just going to end up smelling the same then.

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[Arthur shakes his head with a slightly bashful smile.]

Everyone has a unique smell to them, I find. It’ll always be there underneath whatver products they’ve put on.

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So I still smell like me, even when you come on my face and say it was an accident?

[Obviously a genuine inquiry what are you suggesting]