[Sometimes jobs go wrong, that's just a fact of life. No amount of planning can account for random strokes of luck, little things in life that just happen. Eames may not be the most stringent when it comes to these things, but he doubts any amount of forethought could plan for a security guard getting milk in his coffee instead of soy and sticking around an extra fifteen minutes. It's kind of amazing how some random guy being lactose intolerant can undo a week's work.]
[Maybe it's his own fault, maybe he got too cocky, too sure he could handle a job like this on his own. Eames would say he's probably one of the best, but even the best out there has problems when it comes to a guard coming out of the bathroom unexpectedly and alerting every other guard in the building before Eames manages to knock him out.]
[At least he had the foresight to wear a mask.]
[The protocol for this kind of thing is always the same at least. Get out, get gone, make sure you're not being tailed before you go to ground. Eames makes it out through a window and hops the fence, in the back of his mind it reminds him of when he was young, and with the adrenaline rush it's actually a little fun.]
[When he was young he didn't have the money or the experience to be able to dump his car and switch to another once he's confident he's not being followed. Guards like that don't tend to leave the premises, but one can never be too sure. He sits at the wheel for a little bit, ostensibly to get his head together, but he's in a bit of a state. He knows he needs to get somewhere he feels safe enough to regroup, and that's how he ends up letting himself in Arthur's bedroom window and passing out on his bed as soon as the adrenaline wears off. There's a little blood, he probably looks like a mess, but it's all superficial. Mostly he's just exhausted.]
[Arthur had a feeling that it was Eames as soon as he walked onto the crime scene. The patterns fit, the witness descriptions fit (god he has a love/hate relationship with having to write the words "muscular build" down in his notepad), everything fits right up until the point where it all goes to hell. As soon as he talks to the guard who came out of the bathroom he knows that that's where Eames fucked up, and it's almost annoying. There's something clean about the way Eames' robberies go; the witness statements are either nothing at all or describe a spectacular show, and the getaway's so smooth that they don't have to prepare too many reports for the insurance companies.]
[By comparison this is a complete travesty, and by the time Arthur gets home that evening he just feels like knocking back a beer and settling in to watch some TV. He doesn't imagine he'll be seeing Eames for a little while anyway - if the man's smart he got out of dodge and won't be seen for a couple weeks - but he's quickly corrected when he walks into his bedroom to change into some sweats.]
[Somewhere in his mind he knows how he should react, but he kissed that part of his mind goodbye a long time ago, going all the way back to the first time Eames broke in. Instead he follows his instinct, which is to sit down on the bed with a sigh, careful not to jostle too much, and smooth Eames' hair back.]
[Eames starts a little at Arthur's hand in his hair, but he relaxes again at the sound of his voice and when he looks up at him, cursing softly under his breath with a soft sigh. He doesn't fully register what Arthur said, brow pinched in confusion as he looks around to confirm where he is.]
[God, he doesn't even remember coming here. Eames groans weakly and moves to sit up, but his whole body is sore and that proves to be a bad move. Maybe he'll just... Stay laying down.]
Sorry.
[The apology comes after a long quiet on Eames' part, voice rough and groggy.]
[Arthur heaves a heavy sigh and looks at the window, kind of wondering if he should finally get a better lock. He can't be harbouring criminals like this, but at the same time seeing how bad it is he's actually glad he knows Eames is safe. That's a weird thing to feel.]
[He doesn't want to move though. He pulls a face like just the idea of moving is physically painful and sits up with a groan. Eventually he'll make it to the bathroom.]
[Arthur can tell if he starts asking about it it's going to sound like an interrogation, and the last thing he wants is to make Eames leave. He stands with Eames and follows at a short distance like he's worried about the man keeling over.]
You don't need to go to the hospital or anything, do you?
[Eames absolutely stops him, giving Arthur a look that's some mix of offended and confused, attempting to laugh it off even as he flinches away from Arthur's grasp.]
[Eames reaches for Arthur's arm to tug him over for a quick kiss before he goes. He doesn't want him being all annoyed or anything. Plus he hasn't had a single kiss yet and that is unacceptable.]
[That does help put him at a little more ease, but even as he lingers a second to nose at Eames' cheek before he turns away he feels weird. He feels relieved that Eames is okay, worried about his injuries, confused about why he came here but won't let Arthur help, a little mad that he came here and put them both at risk of being caught, and anxious that it all means something yet to be understood. It makes the sting of the beer hitting his tongue all the more welcome, and he just stands in front of his fridge for a moment.]
[The thing that makes Arthur good at his job is that he can deal with the here and now better than anyone, so that's what he's going to do. He digs out his first aid kit just in case there are any cuts or scrapes that need to be cleaned up and puts his extra-strength painkillers out on the counter so Eames can take one as soon as he gets out of the shower.]
[The next thing is clothes. Arthur digs out his stretchiest pair of sweatpants and leaves them on the bed, then goes to the bathroom door that he left open a few inches, politely standing on the other side of it to ask his question.]
Hey, you want me to put your clothes in the washer?
[The heat of the water hitting his skin is more than welcome right now. Eames just stands under the water for a few minutes, letting out a soft groan as it soothes the ache in his shoulder. He's trying hard not to think about why he came here instead of going home. Why he'd drag Arthur into this.]
[It's fine. He'll just focus on getting clean, lazily rinsing through his hair when Arthur offers to wash his clothes and Eames starts to say yes before he remembers what's in his pockets and sticks his head out to reply.]
I should probably empty the pockets first.
[There's something about letting Arthur handle his tools and stolen goods that just makes him feel uneasy.]
[The reality that he is actively helping cover up a crime at this point twists in his stomach a little, but Arthur shakes it off and goes back to his dresser so he can finally get changed. By the time Eames comes out of the shower Arthur will be sitting as his table in some comfy sweats, staring at his laptop and nursing a beer.]
[Eames comes out after a little, he sighs and stands in front of the sink for a minute, just... Trying to figure out what he should be doing. Probably none of what he's done so far, but it's too late for that.]
[He puts his underwear back on, he doesn't take the painkillers though he does silently appreciate them a lot. He's pretty sure the soreness will completely go away soon enough, a cut on his arm started bleeding in the shower, but it's light and it's the only one so he's not fussed. He's more focused on making sure things are okay with Arthur, and comes out to look for him. Sitting at the table with a light frown and a sigh.]
[Arthur looks across at him with a weary but otherwise inscrutable expression. He's not about to tell Eames that it's fine - there are so many reasons why it's not - but he's not about to tell him off either. He would have assumed Eames was fine if he hadn't come, but now that he's here and Arthur sees how much he needed somewhere to rest he feels a sense of relief. He can't tell if he'd prefer the ignorance.]
[It's a long moment and a heavy sigh before he speaks.]
[He's not worried about that in the least, honestly he's certain the only person who'll ever know he was here is Arthur. He just feels bad that this situation is something Arthur has to deal with on both sides of things now.]
[Arthur nods sharply and gets up to get Eames his beer, closing his laptop. He's not really sure where to go from here - they're not going to sleep together but he doesn't want Eames to go.]
[He puts the bottle down in front of Eames and goes backto his seat.]
I got the first aid kit out if you wanted to bandage any of those cuts.
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