ruffians | i see your star

[Eames and his mother aren't so similar at first glance. Some people might accuse him of being posh, (simply for sounding vaguely middle class, he'd wager,) but he's not gentle or delicate unless he needs to be. Something about him that's casual, that hints he's not afraid of getting in the muck and dirt. His mother, on the other hand, is refined. Poised and elegant in the way she holds herself. Really it's no wonder she's a muse when she looks like a painting come to life: Vibrant red hair that cascades in large curls even from the hasty ponytail it's pulled into, bright green eyes that glitter with knowledge and mischief. Accent just pronounced enough that the Irish lilt enhances the melodic timbre of her voice. Where Eames passes easily for human, she is ever so slightly inhuman. Not enough that it raises alarms, but enough that those in the know might see her for what she is.]

[One way they're extremely alike, however, is the way they argue. The family resemblance is uncanny in the rhythm of it, the sarcasm interspersed with sharply pointed comments. The way she raises her eyebrows and mockingly asks, "oh, should I read your mind next time?" Could easily be mistaken for having come from Eames himself if he weren't standing across from her, rolling his eyes.]

[So if someone fancied letting themself into Eames' home for whatever reason, this is what they'll be greeted with. Eames and his mother standing in the living room, arguing about god knows what.]

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[Eames moans along with him, letting out little curses with Arthur's movements, and he lets himself fall back onto the bed when Arthur's done with a heavy exhale. That was good.]

[Arthur takes one deep breath and then slowly lifts his hips to pull off of Eames, setting himself down next to him on the bed and relaxing with a sigh.]

That's what I came over to do today.

[Eames laughs gently and turns on his side to face Arthur.]

I'm glad we managed to get around to it.

[Arthur grins at him and shuffles a little closer, reaching to rest his hand on Eames’ waist. He lets a happy silence fall, and then…]

Do you think your mom liked me?

[Well that's not a question he was expecting nor is he mentally prepared to delve into it. Eames sighs, giving Arthur a thoughtful frown as he replats earlier in his mind.]

More than not.

[She certainly wouldn't have been so ready to bully Eames if she didn't, he thinks, but he's not going to say that.]

She was a little preoccupied, but you'd know for certain if she disliked you, I can tell you that.

[Arthur's almost surprised at the thoughtful response, but pleasantly so.]

That's good.

[He gets a little closer and his voice gets a little softer.]

You could've told me you called her.

You could've told me you were coming over.

[His voice is soft and lightly teasing, but also like in terms of sharing information he would definitely argue Arthur was more obliged.]

I come over unannounced all the time.

[He says, like that's a defense. He's not so worried about arguing this point as he is nosing in for some affection.]

I just meant, if you were having a tough time...

[Eames hums softly and turns his head to give Arthur a quick kiss.]

I just haven't seen her in a long time.

[So wanting to see her after a traumatizing experience makes sense.]

Yeah.

[He thinks for a second, staring up at the ceiling and letting himself just sit in his heavy post-coital body.]

It's weird. It's like — absolutely nothing changed, but I feel different. Like I'm the one that's out of place now.

Mm. [He sighs softly and wraps his arm a little tighter around Arthur.] It's been... Difficult. To find my footing.

Yeah.

[He's noticed Eames has been a little off, but given what they went through it's nothing Arthur was particularly worried about. They're both resilient, he thinks.]

You know I'm here for you, though.

The same goes for you.

Well then let's be here for each other.

[He brushes his hand up Eames' arm, soothing and affectionate.]

[He hums happily.]

Sounds like a good plan.

[He turns his head to raise an eyebrow at Eames.]

Do you want me to start texting before I come over again?

[Eames snorts.]

Maybe just for this week, while she's still in town.

Okay.

[He rubs Eames' arm, just really enjoying being in bed with this man.]

Does she live in Faery?

Right now? She has a partner in Italy, so she spends most of her time there.

[Italy sounds so nice.]

How long has it been since you saw her?

[Oh. Hm.]

Thirty years or so? Maybe a little more.

Wow.

[He idly draws circles on Eames' arm, the corner of his mouth curling into a soft smile.]

That's as long as I've been alive.

[He sighs softly, enjoying the affection.]

I suppose that is a long time for a mortal.

Mm, for a mortal.

[He’s sleepy and it’s clear in his voice, though it can’t stop him from doing some quick math.]

That would only be about… a year and a half, for me.

[Somehow it's weird to think about Arthur's relationship with his family. He knows they exist, a little about them, but he's not sure he's ever even heard Arthur talk about them in even the vaguest terms.]

[But he knows enough about mortals to know it's not strange for a grown man not to see his parents in person for a couple of years here and there.]

That's not too bad.

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