Rather than looking ready to tear into Eames, though, the look on Arthur's face is stricken and surprised.
Then again, is it that much of a surprise, considering Eames' confession? And now that Arthur knows what he does about Eames' previous misconceptions regarding him and Cobb, the whole nonsense on the ship and how fast it escalated makes more sense, spirits or no.
Unable to hold that gaze, Arthur looks away awkwardly, just out of reach from Eames as he leans back against the counter, arms loosely crossed just a touch defensively over his chest.
"... I had trouble sleeping, after the ship," he admits, still not looking at Eames. "Heard it was a side-effect with others who'd had... 'experiences' on it. It screwed everyone over, so... I guess I'm saying I don't blame you for everything that happened there."
Eames studies him quietly, the surprise and then something else, turning inwardly again - he had made Arthur watching a hobby long time before Duplicity and long time before he fell for the man like a rock sinking through waves. He knows in theory what those expressions are, what that stance means, and he should know how to dissolve the discomfort Arthur feels.
But there's a whole pirate ship size chasm between them and isn't that just awfully frustrating?
"I'm not willing to take blame for it," he says quietly. "I would never do that to you. I would--" He stumbles over his words, which is a rarity for Eames. "You know that, right? Arthur, I'm struggling because I want to strangle myself for what I did, or what someone did using my body. That I could let that happen..."
He doesn't think about it when he reaches for Arthur, sliding a hand over his, curling his fingers over Arthur's palm.
Arthur twitches at the touch and his eyes immediately focus in on the large hand covering his. But... he doesn't pull away or shake it off. After a long moment of staring, he turns his hand, loosely lacing their fingers together, giving a gentle squeeze to them.
"Yeah, I... get that," he murmurs. He really does. It's just going to take a bit more time for him to convince all of his brain that this is fine. That Eames is safe.
Eames quiets when Arthur takes his hand. He sucks in a quiet, deep breath, holds it and then relaxes. The coffeemaker gurgles on the counter beside him, Eames doesn't pull his hand away but he also doesn't move in any closer like he usually might have.
"I'm sincerely sorry about what happened," he says quietly. "And I don't expect you to forgive me now, or maybe ever. I just want you to know that none of that was my own idea and I would never do that to you."
He squeezes Arthur's hand once and then pulls his hand away, busying himself with the coffee. Yes, he drinks a lot. Yes, there's a reason for it. No, it's probably not going away soon.
He sees that coffee volume. He understands the reason for it, now.
And without realising it or having a moment to think (how very unlike him...), his mouth is open and asking without permission from his mind, "Is that invite to stay the night still there?"
Maybe if he sticks around, Eames will feel more at ease... Who knows. All he knows is that it feels... wrong to just leave the man to suffer his insomnia alone like that, when Arthur knows it's because of him.
Eames bites the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes for a moment to draw in a slow breath, gathering himself.
"The invite is still there, Arthur," he says quietly. "Please, do stay."
It's the lowest he will go about it. He's already confessed his feelings, admitted to having a problem with sleep and alcohol and now he's asking openly.
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Rather than looking ready to tear into Eames, though, the look on Arthur's face is stricken and surprised.
Then again, is it that much of a surprise, considering Eames' confession? And now that Arthur knows what he does about Eames' previous misconceptions regarding him and Cobb, the whole nonsense on the ship and how fast it escalated makes more sense, spirits or no.
Unable to hold that gaze, Arthur looks away awkwardly, just out of reach from Eames as he leans back against the counter, arms loosely crossed just a touch defensively over his chest.
"... I had trouble sleeping, after the ship," he admits, still not looking at Eames. "Heard it was a side-effect with others who'd had... 'experiences' on it. It screwed everyone over, so... I guess I'm saying I don't blame you for everything that happened there."
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But there's a whole pirate ship size chasm between them and isn't that just awfully frustrating?
"I'm not willing to take blame for it," he says quietly. "I would never do that to you. I would--" He stumbles over his words, which is a rarity for Eames. "You know that, right? Arthur, I'm struggling because I want to strangle myself for what I did, or what someone did using my body. That I could let that happen..."
He doesn't think about it when he reaches for Arthur, sliding a hand over his, curling his fingers over Arthur's palm.
no subject
Arthur twitches at the touch and his eyes immediately focus in on the large hand covering his. But... he doesn't pull away or shake it off. After a long moment of staring, he turns his hand, loosely lacing their fingers together, giving a gentle squeeze to them.
"Yeah, I... get that," he murmurs. He really does. It's just going to take a bit more time for him to convince all of his brain that this is fine. That Eames is safe.
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"I'm sincerely sorry about what happened," he says quietly. "And I don't expect you to forgive me now, or maybe ever. I just want you to know that none of that was my own idea and I would never do that to you."
He squeezes Arthur's hand once and then pulls his hand away, busying himself with the coffee. Yes, he drinks a lot. Yes, there's a reason for it. No, it's probably not going away soon.
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He sees that coffee volume. He understands the reason for it, now.
And without realising it or having a moment to think (how very unlike him...), his mouth is open and asking without permission from his mind, "Is that invite to stay the night still there?"
Maybe if he sticks around, Eames will feel more at ease... Who knows. All he knows is that it feels... wrong to just leave the man to suffer his insomnia alone like that, when Arthur knows it's because of him.
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"So, which part of this grovelling and feelings made you feel like you want to stick around?" Eames asks, turning towards Arthur with raised brows.
"You can stay as long as you like," he says with a small sigh. "You should already know that."
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"If you're gonna be a defensive dick about it, I can always just clear off," Arthur huffs, crossing his arms and looking away defensively.
Feelings and the discussion thereof are hard, okay.
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"The invite is still there, Arthur," he says quietly. "Please, do stay."
It's the lowest he will go about it. He's already confessed his feelings, admitted to having a problem with sleep and alcohol and now he's asking openly.
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Dark eyes slide over to stare at Eames' face, taking in the obvious restraint, there.
"... Okay," he answers at last. "Just for tonight."
For now.
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He offers Arthur his without another word.