[ Eames opens the door in a pair of fainted blue jeans and a tee that stretches over his chest, making the Rolling Stones logo grin just a little bit. His expression mellows into a fond smile and he steps aside to let Blake in.
The apartment is already styled a little bit in true Eames fashion, eclectic and colour mismatched in a way that should be unpleasing but actually fits rather nice together when you give it a chance. There's no couch but a big hammock couch hanging at one side of a curiously shaped coffee table and a couple of mismatched armchairs. A soft rug on the floor and pillows thrown around.
Where the bed is at? Should be right there in the studio apartment. But it's not. Maybe he sleeps in the hammock? ]
You... look a little worn out, sweetheart, [ Eames comments with a small smile. ] What happened?
[ Knowing Eames, the bed's tucked away in some secret place utterly undetectable without his help. Blake's cottoned on to the way Arthur can manipulate the dream world and like hell is he going to believe Eames doesn't have the same powers of dream persuasion at his behest.
The thoughts leave his mind quickly after he gives the place a good once over, his attention turning back to the other man. ]
Good to see you, too. [ It sounds like sarcasm except he means it. ] Two years in this place happened. Or are you looking for specifics already?
[ Setting aside the bag of coffee on the nearest flat surface, he goes about wandering a little to investigate the unfamiliar layout. ]
[ Eames simply leans against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as Blake explores his flat. There's an easel at the corner already but no finished paintings, just a few empty canvases. It's going to take a while to build up the same kind of setting he had before. ]
Always a delight, [ Eames murmurs, his mouth quirking at the corners. Blake isn't any less forthcoming than Arthur about himself.
Finally, he pushes himself away from the wall and walks into the open kitchen. ] So, do you want scotch or coffee? Or both? [ Eames needs a drink. A strong drink. But he's not going to shove one down Blake's throat if he's not in the mood for it. ]
[ Blake watches as Eames moves around, hands coming up to rub at his face. He actually happens to be slightly more forthcoming than Arthur, but it's probably going to take some time for Eames to see as much. For now, he's just happy to have the company, especially the kind of company that would help him to look after his twin. ]
Coffee's good, thanks.
[ He'd like to drink, trust me he would, but for the time being it's certainly better that he doesn't. Not after the last handful of weeks. ]
Last month I was kinda buck-wild. Pretty much drank like a fish. That's how the sayin' goes, right?
[ Blake's fucked enough in the head that he's not quite sure, not that he's bothered at the idea of being wrong. ]
[ Eames shrugs and fills up the coffee machine while downing a few fingers of scotch himself. ]
Yeah? Feeling the perpetual hangover, I suppose?
[ For Eames it's usually the opposite. He gets sharp when things go hell in a handbasket. When it gets quiet, he dives into the bottle, because that's when he has too much to think.
The coffee machine gurgling behind him, he leans on the door frame while looking at Blake. Asking about last month isn't probably what he should do - Blake has made it clear he's not going to talk. So, instead Eames decides to lighten the mood by asking: ] Have you already published some of your work or are you still writing your smut simply for private pleasures?
[ Blake huffs and shakes his head. He doesn't really want to think much about it, but Eames is having him over, warts and all, so he figures he can't pass on every opportunity to talk. ]
No, I took my fantasies to the real world instead. I'd started pokin' 'round writin' again, but I don't have the heart for it at the moment. Why? Need somethin' to read?
[ There's some comfort in just being around other people too. Eames is not surprised that Blake doesn't want to talk. He's the same, Arthur's the same. Every attempt feels like weakness being exposed and it feels exponentially worse when you're already down for the count.
But he knows that stress tends to pile up and when it gets to a point of never being able to find a release, it fucking ruins you.
So, what's he's doing is not pushing. Let this be a stress free moment, easy to breathe, yeah? ]
Hey, I'm always looking for good things to read.
What happened to your heart? I've heard writing is a good way to unload pretty much everything. [ There's a faint twitch at the corners of his mouth, not quite a smile but getting there. ]
Not sure I'd want to commit this kinda stuff to paper.
[ He rubs a hand down his face, feeling more tired by the moment. It's all a blur now — stuff his brain doesn't want to access — and while he's been terribly reticent about talking to anyone about it, he does feel like Eames isn't the type to go sharing his pain around town. ]
Did stuff that hurt some people I care about and what really messes me up is that I didn't think it was all that big of a deal until it blindsided me. Like I just knew what was fine and good for everyone and I was untouchable or somethin'. Shoulda known better'n that.
[ The coffee pot gurgles behind Eames as he listens to Blake quietly, arms folded over his chest. No, he's not going to talk about this to anyone. There is some honour among thieves after all. ]
What did you do? [ he asks quietly. Obviously it's bothering Blake quite a bit and Eames gets that, holy shit, he really gets that because it hits home like a hammer on a nail and he has a feeling Blake even has a good reason for what he did, whatever it is, unlike Eames. ]
[ Eames frowns a bit. This sounds more like something he would do. Blake seems too damn nice for it. ]
Was it some sort of status effect this place seems to give to people or just felt like fucking around? [ he asks calmly. ] That seems a little excessive even if you were on a bender for dick.
Christ, I dunno. Maybe. I mean, I was comin' off seein' Arthur die, seein' my friend Dick gettin' burned alive, and... I dunno. Think I needed the distraction, but that's not usually the way I go 'bout these things.
[ He takes in a shuttering breath and runs a hand down his face, clearly irritated with himself. ]
Think that coffee's ready yet?
[ Please, god, anything to take the spotlight off his poor decision making skills and crippling self doubt. ]
Black's fine. And you're prob'ly right, but I think what's makin' me so antsy is that I wasn't sorry. Not like I am now. I came back, cried my eyes out on my friend's shoulder, thought I made amends, and then it all came right back to punch me in the face days later.
[ He huffs. ]
I'm not blind to the fact that casual sex isn't as easy a thing for some people, not to mention cheating, but I'm naive enough to believe when someone says things're okay when they're not. What sense does that make?
[ It would take far too long for Blake to explain the lengths of the particular relationship he'd meddled in and it's definitely not his place, but suffice to say, there's a lot more there to navigate the just the regular relationship dynamics. ]
Honestly, I'm not entirely sure he wasn't thinkin' similar to what I was. Neither of us seemed to think it'd make the mess it did.
[ People are tough. That's for sure. Eames gets up without a word and fetches the bottle and two glasses, pouring them both a drink. It's up to Blake if he wants it or not. ]
Relationships tend to get messy. But if they weren't married and there's some leeway there, they'll work it out. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else, I imagine.
[ That doesn't make it any less difficult for Blake, though. ]
I suppose you learn as you go what flies and with who. And then you make adjustments depending on who you care about and who you don't. Isn't that how it works? People make mistakes, that's... [ Maybe he should listen to himself, once in a while too. ] The human condition, isn't it?
No offense, Eames, but I'm not sure that's the greatest advice. We should care about everyone on some level.
[ But hey, that's just the repressed vigilante talking. It's probably not nearly as accurate or as suitable for everyone as Blake might like. ]
Don't wanna get into the other guy's business, but he was pretty straightforward with me. And I get the distinct impression he didn't really think those kinda boundaries needed set in the relationship he was in. But I knew. Just didn't care.
[ Blake takes up the drink and tips it back, wincing. Nope, that was a mistake and he struggles a second, almost looking like it's ready to come back up. ]
Whatever. The mind's a weird thing. We'll just leave it at that, eh?
That's it though, [ Eames says as he pushes to sit up in his chair, elbow resting on his knee as he looks at Blake. ] You say we should care about everyone and you keep pointing out just how sorry you are, how guilty you feel... [ Has he really said that? Probably not, but Eames is reading it on him nonetheless. ]
You're actually a pretty decent bloke, aren't you?
[ Eames tilts his head with a quirk of his brow, then reaches over to fill their glasses again. Up to Blake if he wishes to down it. Eames will knock his own back right away. ]
What I'm getting at is that it doesn't seem like you to do something like that and not give a fuck.
[ Why he knows? Because he would have been that guy who doesn't care, and he wouldn't have cared a little later, either. ]
[ That's probably the most sense anyone has made in supporting Blake's own internal argument, although he's still reticent to let himself off the hook. Still, what Eames says does make him think and he finally he nods. ]
Yeah, I try pretty hard to be a good guy. Feels awful when I'm not, but... I get kinda mad sometimes. This place—
[ He huffs and cradles the drink, although doesn't make any moves to down more of it. Does he need to say anything more than that? ]
Anyway, thanks. For listenin' and whatever. You've got enough goin' on, it's kind of you to take the time and effort. You're pretty decent yourself.
[ Eames leans back on his chair, one knee on top of the other, his mouth twisting into a humourless smirk. ]
This place has a way of turning your head upside down and gives you the impression that it was your intention all along.
[ He sways his foot a little, as if tapping it to a silent tune. ]
No, not really. Listen, the reason why I'm quite sure about is because I could have been that guy, not caring. And it wouldn't have changed it if there had been two weeks or two days to think about it. You seem genuinely upset, that says something.
[ Blake lets that marinate a minute, surprised at how much sense it makes when everything else doesn't seem to want to. But he wants to believe he's outside that kind of influence, even if he knows he's not.
He smiles a little, then, looking a bit coquettish for the first time in a while. ]
On the bright side, wouldn't necessarily go back and undo it all. It was a good time at the time.
And you don't wanna be the one accused of that, lemme tell you.
[ Which is to say, Blake agrees with Eames on probably more things than he probably should. As far as he's concerned — and maybe they share this thought, too — it's no good if not everyone involved comes out satisfied. ]
I can go without. Had for a long time when I was workin' on my career. Just don't like to. It's a stress reliever, y'know? Easier'n goin' to the gym. But I guess I oughta not be so cavalier considerin'.
Sex is just sex. Rutting against one another to get off, [ Eames gives an easy shrug and a grin that says plenty about agreeing with Blake on the matter. ] That's what I believe anyway.
Then there's making love and that's different. I don't know how I'd feel if I were in love about sex with other people. [ For some reason he thinks of Arthur and it makes him look away, empty his glass and pour another. It's the closest he's ever been to caring about someone romantically. And he fucked that up too, so... ]
I suppose if sex was really good and there would be plenty of it. [ He chuckles because he knows he sounds like an asshole, sorry about that. ] But even then... [ His smile is positively Cheshire as he murmurs: ] What would you do about threesomes, or foursomes, or well, gosh, orgies?
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The apartment is already styled a little bit in true Eames fashion, eclectic and colour mismatched in a way that should be unpleasing but actually fits rather nice together when you give it a chance. There's no couch but a big hammock couch hanging at one side of a curiously shaped coffee table and a couple of mismatched armchairs. A soft rug on the floor and pillows thrown around.
Where the bed is at? Should be right there in the studio apartment. But it's not. Maybe he sleeps in the hammock? ]
You... look a little worn out, sweetheart, [ Eames comments with a small smile. ] What happened?
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The thoughts leave his mind quickly after he gives the place a good once over, his attention turning back to the other man. ]
Good to see you, too. [ It sounds like sarcasm except he means it. ] Two years in this place happened. Or are you looking for specifics already?
[ Setting aside the bag of coffee on the nearest flat surface, he goes about wandering a little to investigate the unfamiliar layout. ]
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Always a delight, [ Eames murmurs, his mouth quirking at the corners. Blake isn't any less forthcoming than Arthur about himself.
Finally, he pushes himself away from the wall and walks into the open kitchen. ] So, do you want scotch or coffee? Or both? [ Eames needs a drink. A strong drink. But he's not going to shove one down Blake's throat if he's not in the mood for it. ]
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Coffee's good, thanks.
[ He'd like to drink, trust me he would, but for the time being it's certainly better that he doesn't. Not after the last handful of weeks. ]
Last month I was kinda buck-wild. Pretty much drank like a fish. That's how the sayin' goes, right?
[ Blake's fucked enough in the head that he's not quite sure, not that he's bothered at the idea of being wrong. ]
so sorry for the slown!!
Yeah? Feeling the perpetual hangover, I suppose?
[ For Eames it's usually the opposite. He gets sharp when things go hell in a handbasket. When it gets quiet, he dives into the bottle, because that's when he has too much to think.
The coffee machine gurgling behind him, he leans on the door frame while looking at Blake. Asking about last month isn't probably what he should do - Blake has made it clear he's not going to talk. So, instead Eames decides to lighten the mood by asking: ] Have you already published some of your work or are you still writing your smut simply for private pleasures?
Likewise!!
No, I took my fantasies to the real world instead. I'd started pokin' 'round writin' again, but I don't have the heart for it at the moment. Why? Need somethin' to read?
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But he knows that stress tends to pile up and when it gets to a point of never being able to find a release, it fucking ruins you.
So, what's he's doing is not pushing. Let this be a stress free moment, easy to breathe, yeah? ]
Hey, I'm always looking for good things to read.
What happened to your heart? I've heard writing is a good way to unload pretty much everything. [ There's a faint twitch at the corners of his mouth, not quite a smile but getting there. ]
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[ He rubs a hand down his face, feeling more tired by the moment. It's all a blur now — stuff his brain doesn't want to access — and while he's been terribly reticent about talking to anyone about it, he does feel like Eames isn't the type to go sharing his pain around town. ]
Did stuff that hurt some people I care about and what really messes me up is that I didn't think it was all that big of a deal until it blindsided me. Like I just knew what was fine and good for everyone and I was untouchable or somethin'. Shoulda known better'n that.
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What did you do? [ he asks quietly. Obviously it's bothering Blake quite a bit and Eames gets that, holy shit, he really gets that because it hits home like a hammer on a nail and he has a feeling Blake even has a good reason for what he did, whatever it is, unlike Eames. ]
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[ ... ]
And another friend's man. And some stranger I met at the bar.
[ Ugh. He sounds like such a prick when he hears himself say it out loud. Why was he ever okay with this in the first place? ]
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Was it some sort of status effect this place seems to give to people or just felt like fucking around? [ he asks calmly. ] That seems a little excessive even if you were on a bender for dick.
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[ He takes in a shuttering breath and runs a hand down his face, clearly irritated with himself. ]
Think that coffee's ready yet?
[ Please, god, anything to take the spotlight off his poor decision making skills and crippling self doubt. ]
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You take milk or sugar? [ he calls out. Then continues: ]
You know, I don't know if it matter if it was you or this place. People do shitty things all the time.
I guess what matters is that you're sorry?
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[ He huffs. ]
I'm not blind to the fact that casual sex isn't as easy a thing for some people, not to mention cheating, but I'm naive enough to believe when someone says things're okay when they're not. What sense does that make?
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Generally people in a relationship aren't really okay with casual sex, [ he says as he takes a seat in one of the mismatched chairs and leans back. ]
But it takes two to tango. Your friend's man should've said something if it's not okay, I imagine.
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Honestly, I'm not entirely sure he wasn't thinkin' similar to what I was. Neither of us seemed to think it'd make the mess it did.
[ He makes a face. ]
Honestly, it's makin' me re-think that drink...
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Relationships tend to get messy. But if they weren't married and there's some leeway there, they'll work it out. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else, I imagine.
[ That doesn't make it any less difficult for Blake, though. ]
I suppose you learn as you go what flies and with who. And then you make adjustments depending on who you care about and who you don't. Isn't that how it works? People make mistakes, that's... [ Maybe he should listen to himself, once in a while too. ] The human condition, isn't it?
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[ But hey, that's just the repressed vigilante talking. It's probably not nearly as accurate or as suitable for everyone as Blake might like. ]
Don't wanna get into the other guy's business, but he was pretty straightforward with me. And I get the distinct impression he didn't really think those kinda boundaries needed set in the relationship he was in. But I knew. Just didn't care.
[ Blake takes up the drink and tips it back, wincing. Nope, that was a mistake and he struggles a second, almost looking like it's ready to come back up. ]
Whatever. The mind's a weird thing. We'll just leave it at that, eh?
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You're actually a pretty decent bloke, aren't you?
[ Eames tilts his head with a quirk of his brow, then reaches over to fill their glasses again. Up to Blake if he wishes to down it. Eames will knock his own back right away. ]
What I'm getting at is that it doesn't seem like you to do something like that and not give a fuck.
[ Why he knows? Because he would have been that guy who doesn't care, and he wouldn't have cared a little later, either. ]
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Yeah, I try pretty hard to be a good guy. Feels awful when I'm not, but... I get kinda mad sometimes. This place—
[ He huffs and cradles the drink, although doesn't make any moves to down more of it. Does he need to say anything more than that? ]
Anyway, thanks. For listenin' and whatever. You've got enough goin' on, it's kind of you to take the time and effort. You're pretty decent yourself.
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This place has a way of turning your head upside down and gives you the impression that it was your intention all along.
[ He sways his foot a little, as if tapping it to a silent tune. ]
No, not really. Listen, the reason why I'm quite sure about is because I could have been that guy, not caring. And it wouldn't have changed it if there had been two weeks or two days to think about it. You seem genuinely upset, that says something.
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He smiles a little, then, looking a bit coquettish for the first time in a while. ]
On the bright side, wouldn't necessarily go back and undo it all. It was a good time at the time.
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He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his scotch. ]
Sex usually is, and if it's not, someone did you wrong...
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[ Which is to say, Blake agrees with Eames on probably more things than he probably should. As far as he's concerned — and maybe they share this thought, too — it's no good if not everyone involved comes out satisfied. ]
I can go without. Had for a long time when I was workin' on my career. Just don't like to. It's a stress reliever, y'know? Easier'n goin' to the gym. But I guess I oughta not be so cavalier considerin'.
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Then there's making love and that's different. I don't know how I'd feel if I were in love about sex with other people. [ For some reason he thinks of Arthur and it makes him look away, empty his glass and pour another. It's the closest he's ever been to caring about someone romantically. And he fucked that up too, so... ]
I suppose if sex was really good and there would be plenty of it. [ He chuckles because he knows he sounds like an asshole, sorry about that. ] But even then... [ His smile is positively Cheshire as he murmurs: ] What would you do about threesomes, or foursomes, or well, gosh, orgies?
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