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i think i'm losing my grip
[Eames is not unaware of the pattern that's started emerging over these last months. The way the tension and the anger in him starts to build like a pressure cooker left unattended until he's ready to fight with anyone at the drop of a hat. It's almost easy to forget he's not like this after a couple of weeks pass, he's never been an angry person. Never been particularly combative outside specific situations. As the time ticks over, it's about all he can do not to start a fistfight with anyone who looks at him.]
[But then they do a job, and Eames gets an outlet for that violence coiled up inside him, and when they get back he's calm again. Serene. Back to himself. It's not something Eames is oblivious to, he just feels like at this point it's a state of being he has to accept. Every conversation he and Arthur have had gets filed away in his mind as something else to be ashamed of, something else that's off-limits, so this is just what it is now until Arthur gets sick of putting up with him and they part ways.]
[At least they're at the good part of things right now, a few days out from a successful job. Eames, at least, is pretty relaxed. Idly going over a few law enforcement transcripts while he eats to check if there's anything out here they should be aware of.]
[But then they do a job, and Eames gets an outlet for that violence coiled up inside him, and when they get back he's calm again. Serene. Back to himself. It's not something Eames is oblivious to, he just feels like at this point it's a state of being he has to accept. Every conversation he and Arthur have had gets filed away in his mind as something else to be ashamed of, something else that's off-limits, so this is just what it is now until Arthur gets sick of putting up with him and they part ways.]
[At least they're at the good part of things right now, a few days out from a successful job. Eames, at least, is pretty relaxed. Idly going over a few law enforcement transcripts while he eats to check if there's anything out here they should be aware of.]
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[He shakes his head.]
I don't think it actually matters. There's no getting rid of it.
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Guess you shouldn't waste the energy trying to make it go away then, right? It's more about coexisting with it.
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I had been, but it's different with you.
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Yeah, this is different than anything either of us have done, I think. But even if it's good, being happy takes work sometimes.
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[God does he know. Doesn't mean he's happy about it.]
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I love you.
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[His arms flex briefly, clearly wanting to squeeze Arthur but he doesn't let himself, instead breathing out through his nose, voice barely above a murmur.]
I love you so fucking much. I'd do anything--
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[He rubs Eames' back and hums.]
That's why I wanna help you be happy.
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[A few weeks later they're drifting through on their way to an outpost for a supply run when Eames feels himself getting that creeping feeling up the back of his neck, the way he's slowly becoming more tense, more combative. It's not something regular — sometimes it's weeks, sometimes months go by with no issue — so he's never really prepared for it, but it's been consistent enough for these last few days that he can't just write it off as a bad mood. Which is... Well, he's not happy about it, that's for sure.]
[After everything this last year, he's hesitant to come to Arthur, but he said he would. Eames paces for a while before he starts looking for him, softly calling Arthur's name when he thinks he's in the same part of the ship to see where he is.]
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In here.
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[Arguing about something sounds so good right now though.]
Hey-- I need...
[How did he even ask for this before. Eames pulls a face, brows knit and jaw clenched as he tries to just get it out.]
I need your help.
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What's up?
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[Eames crosses his arms, looking aside for a moment before he forces himself to look back at Arthur.]
It's that time again.
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What do you need?
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[He exhales heavily through his nose.]
I don't know, I just-- I need something hard and rough and fucking...
[Arthur please he's trying so hard.]
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Okay.
[He takes a deep breath and brushes Eames' cheek with his thumb.]
Let's go.
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