ruffians | #vampireproblems

[Eames raises an eyebrow as if he's suspicious of this affection, but he doesn't refuse it.]

Hey.

[Arthur takes a deep breath and his smile fades just a little, but only because he's about to say something so serious.]

I do love you, you know.

[He knew he was right to be suspicious. If it were less serious, Eames might scoff or say something sarcastic, but it is and he frowns lightly.]

That's never been in doubt, Arthur.

[Arthur smiles again and brushes his knuckle against Eames' cheekbone. It's a good cheekbone.]

Yeah, it's just... we don't say it a lot.

[Maybe if someone hadn't practically had an existential crisis the first time Eames said it he'd say it more.]

Should I say it more often?

[He raises an eyebrow.] Every day, maybe? I'll greet you in the evenings-- "hello my love."

[He lets out a soft, embarrassed laugh.]

No, I don't want to devalue it or anything. I've just made so many mistakes and I don't want you to think I don't still feel that way. I want to make sure I'm still telling you.

I know I seem young to someone who drank wine in the gardens of Babylon, but I'm not a child. Love isn't some powerful shield that'll stop us from hurting one another-- accidentally or otherwise.

[Despite the joke, he fixes Arthur with an intent gaze, meeting his eyes with something intense and serious in his own eyes.]

I'm not saying I don't want to hear it, but I'm also not going to start questioning it just because you haven't told me in a week or so.

Okay.

[He looks over Eames' face, appreciating how good it is for a moment.]

I'll keep to saying it when you're being truly amazing, then.

[He lifts a hand to cup Arthur's face, letting his thumb brush back and forth over his cheek with a smile.]

I love you too.

[Arthur grins and rolls into Eames to kiss him and then... nope he's gonna stay right there, brushing his nose against Eames' cheek and sighing happily.]

[Well good, Eames has no objections to this. He wraps his arms around Arthur and holds him close, settling in to sleep peacefully for another couple of hours until he has to get up and go about his day.]

[Arthur makes a mild sound of protest when Eames gets up but he curls up into the warm spot where he was almost immediately. He is definitely not going anywhere for a while.]

[And everything is business as usual for the next few weeks. They even out back into their usual routine, sans a few things that used to be part of it. But neither of them is really ready to broach the whole biting topic, and Eames suspects Arthur has resigned himself to the idea of it never happening again.]

[Thing is, it's kind of hard for Eames to know if he's ready for it until they try, but he knows he misses it. It's not just the sex — though he misses that a hell of a lot — but it's like there's something gone. Like this vale of intimacy that's suddenly off-limits to him and, god. It's ludicrous how much he wants that door reopened, like he's craving it almost.]

[Eames waits for the right time to bring it up now he's decided he wants to; he's not a fool, he's not gonna spring it on Arthur first thing in the evening. After Arthur's had his blood so he's not hungry, not the way he is when he wakes up anyway, and thinks about what to say while Arthur's in the shower. Eames has posted himself up on the couch with a coffee and something supposedly important on his laptop that he's not actually paying attention to.]

[Idly, he traces a couple of old scars on his arm while he waits for Arthur and looks up in his direction with a smile when he's in the room.]

Hey-- I wanted to talk to you about something.

[He pats the couch next to him as a request for Arthur to come sit down.]

[Arthur pretty much has resigned himself to the fact that it's never happening again. He doesn't know how Eames feels about it and he doesn't dare ask, so every time he thinks about it he just tells himself: when he's ready, which could be never. He hasn't quite adjusted to the idea of that but he knows over time he'll adapt.]

[So he suspects nothing when Eames calls him over. It's probably just business, seeing as he has his laptop out and they're just about to get started with their night. He smiles back at him and sits down on the couch beside him.]

Yeah, what's up?

[Eames closes his laptop and puts it down on the coffee table, turning a little to face Arthur with a more serious expression. (The smile was a trap, sorry Arthur.)]

I think... It's time we tried again. [He swallows, and it's kind of frustrating trying to keep himself seeming even and calm when Arthur can tell how his pulse is racing with how anxious he is, but Eames does anyway. Taking a deep breath before he clarifies.] Drinking, I mean. From me.

[Arthur's smile fades into concern as he senses Eames' demeanour change. He manages to keep his reaction rather subdued, letting out a soft "oh" and nodding, then looking down at his hands with a frown.]

Are you sure? I mean, I'm not impatient at all, Eames, I can wait longer.

[He'd laugh if he wasn't so anxious about this, about how many ways it could go wrong. It's hardly as if Eames has ever been someone who did things because he felt pressured-- He'd be okay with it if Arthur said no, but it's not Arthur he wants this for.]

I don't know how it'll go. Might turn out I'm really not okay with it, but... [He sighs.] I miss it.

[Arthur thinks it's a weird thing to miss, but they've had that conversation a million times already and he's not going to get stuck on that point. The real point here is that Eames wants to do this, and he's not trying to do it solely for Arthur's benefit, which means he can't shut it down right away.]

Okay, we can give it a shot.

[He licks his lips and thinks it over, but realizes quickly that Eames has to be the one to decide how all this goes.]

How do you want to do this?

The first time-- The very first time, it was my arm.

[Eames looks down at the space between them and frowns, fairly certain that's not entirely what Arthur means, but truth be told he's not entirely sure of the hows and he shakes his head after a moment's pause and a heavy sigh.]

I haven't thought about the logistics, Arthur. I've mostly been gearing myself up for getting the conversation about this far.

[Arthur puts his hand on Eames' arm, where the scars are, feeling the pulse beneath his skin and getting excited in spite of himself.]

You want to try there again? We can get your glove - I'm not hungry but I want you to feel like you're... in control of the situation.

I figured you'd be more comfortable if you'd eaten already.

[Ugh the glove. He knows it's necessary and he was totally on board at the time, but now it just kind of feels... Well, dumb. He sucks in a breath and nods, looking at Arthur's hand on his arm, pulse picking up a little at the realisation this is happening. It feels stupid, but he wants this-- He really wants it.]

Okay.

[He looks down at his hand as well and then stands up to go to Eames' room and get the glove. He's careful not to touch any of the actual silver parts because that would kind of ruin the mood, but he manages not to look like he's holding a hot potato as he comes back out to the couch and gives it to Eames.]

[And while he waits for him to put it on and everything he just shuffles back on the couch, shifting eagerly.]

[Eames sighs and puts the glove on carefully, frowning as he flexes his fingers. Part of him thinks it might've been an idea to get a pair, not for Arthur but for other vampires — considering what landed them here in the first place — but he can think about that later.]

Alright.

[Deep breath. He looks up at Arthur and nods, offering a smile even if he's apprehensive.]

[Arthur leans in to kiss him briefly, just to reassure him, before he takes Eames' arm gently in his hands. He can feel with his thumb where the pulse is the strongest, right inside of his forearm halfway up to his elbow, where the scars are. God it smells good, and he knows it's going to feel good once he bites down, but part of him is terrified. Not necessarily that he'll lose control but that Eames will immediately decide he's not comfortable with it and pull back.]

[He looks up at him.]

Last chance.

[Instinctively, Eames starts to reach out touch him, but he stops himself and balls his hand into a fist, putting it on the couch next to himself and huffing a small laugh-- mostly to ease himself in.]

Get on with it.

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