there's bullet holes where my compassion used to be

[falsify]

[Eames, for the most part, is pretty good at avoiding serious injuries, but things happen. People make mistakes, get caught out or outdone. Also weapons are a thing.]

[The upside is that Eames can take a lot of pain. The downside is that he is currently in a lot of pain. Battered and bloody with a few nasty wounds to show for it when he lets himself into Arthur's place. Arthur keeps a first aid kit, he knows that, and moreover he keeps some medical supplies he absolutely should not legally have. He tries to remember where Arthur keeps it, turning to go in his kitchen. Grabbing a sharp-looking knife in one hand as he starts looking through a cupboard he vaguely remembers as storage with little regard for the blood he's leaving everywhere. Calling Arthur's name at the same time to see if he's home.]

Comments

[falsify]

[it doesn't take him long. He puts an arm around Arthur as best he can, drifting off quickly once he's settled. Probably for most of the day if Arthur doesn't wake him up.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur waits until he's sure Eames is asleep, relaxing a few minutes longer before he slips out of bed to go get some stuff done while Eames rests.]

[falsify]

[Aside from stirring and groaning every now and then, Eames sleeps well into the late afternoon, maybe even early evening. Pretty much the point where he physically cannot sleep anymore. The first thing he's aware of is just how much he hurts. Like every individual cut and bruise has it in for him. He groans and rolls onto his side, but that hurts even more and he curses in frustration and pain, rolling back to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling with a frown.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur hears Eames curse from the kitchen, where he's investigating takeout menus since it's getting to be that time. He's already made some of the painkiller potion in advance, so he grabs it out of the fridge and brings it into the bedroom with him to check on Eames.]

Evening.

[falsify]

[Eames looks at Arthur, happy to see him but also just extremely displeased with this entire situation.]

Did I really sleep that long?

[He (carefully) sits up, trying not to make as much noise about it as he wants to.]

[specifiercity]

Well, you needed it.

[He comes over and puts the potion down on the night table for Eames to get to at his leisure.]

It's not that late — I haven't eaten yet.

[falsify]

[Oh he goes for the potion immediately, Eames absolutely refuses to be in pain if he doesn't have to be. He looks up at Arthur over the rim of the glass on the comment about eating.]

What are you thinking?

[Feed him.]

[specifiercity]

I was thinking shawarma.

[He sits down on the edge of the bed.]

I can grab the menu for you if you want to take a look.

[falsify]

[He shakes his head.]

You decide. I can barely think right now.

[specifiercity]

Alright, I'll go order.

[He stands up again, looking at the concoction.]

You want me to bring you some water?

[falsify]

[He nods, taking a sip of the potion.]

Thank you.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur nods and leaves the room, returning a minute or two later with a glass of water and his laptop. He puts the glass down next to Eames and then walks around the bed to climb on, opening his laptop to the page where he was just starting a takeout order.]

[He orders more than enough, happy to have the leftovers in the likely event that Eames is not ready to eat four meals worth of food, and once that's put through and he's been emailed a confirmation he shuts the laptop and sets it aside.]

You sleep well?

[falsify]

[Once he's drunk the potion and felt it start to do its thing, he moves to get closer to Arthur and demand some good affection. He slides down a little so he can rest his head on Arthur's shoulder with a soft laugh at the question.]

Seems like it.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur wraps his arm around Eames' shoulders to pull him in.]

How's everything feeling?

[falsify]

Terrible.

[He sighs and turns his head to kiss Arthur's shoulder.]

That's a great potion though.

[specifiercity]

Yeah, Mal and Dom used to make it for me whenever I got hurt. It's easy to make.

[falsify]

[Eames makes a soft sound of understanding and plants another light kiss on his shoulder.]

How often did you get hurt?

[specifiercity]

[Arthur turns his head to nose at Eames' hair.]

Once in a while. An American witch tends to get himself into scraps now and then when he's wandering around asking questions. They hired me to be their bodyguard, so I was the one getting them out of those scraps.

[falsify]

[Makes sense. Eames breathes an amused noise and settles himself on Arthur's shoulder. What a strong, smart, handsome man. Eames likes him a lot.]

I always say witches are trouble.

[There's a gentle uptick, something amused in his voice. He knows he's trouble too.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur laughs softly.]

Dom was a special type of trouble, and Mal didn't help much.

[falsify]

Curiosity gets the bodyguard in a lot of scrapes, hm?

[specifiercity]

[He lets out a dry laugh.]

Yeah. I was good at it, at least.

[falsify]

[Eames hums, agreeing.]

I'd be lying if I didn't admit it really adds to your charm.

[specifiercity]

Oh yeah?

[He grins and kisses Eames' hair.]

How so?

[falsify]

[There's something strangely intimate about this, this sort of flirting with no intentions, cuddled up on Arthur's bed. Normally this is the point where Eames would push Arthur back on the bed and straddle his hips, but instead he's just content to stay here like this.]

[Maybe it's just the fatigue, that makes sense. Fatigue making him relaxed at Arthur's side, lazily resting a hand on his thigh as he thinks about that question.]

You and I both know there's something very attractive about someone so... Capable.

[He sighs softly, pausing to nose lightly at Arthur again.]

Especially when they're as gorgeous as you.