Terrified

Inception songfiction

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Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to Inception, nor do I own the lyrics to "Terrified" by Katharine McPhee (accompaniment with Zachary Levi).

Warning: M/M pairing, very sappy fluff

Rating: T

Pairing: Arthur/Eames

Notes: Lyrics are in bold. I adore this song and I have recently begun to associate this with Arthur/Eames fluff haha.

I've actually had this idea in my head for a few months but I set it aside to write other stories. However, I wanted to write this story for Overthrown, who needs a little cheering up today *hug* This is also for anyone else who needs some fluff in their lives (who doesn't?), or something to smile at. I just had a close friend who lost someone close to her as well, and I just wish there was more I could do to help. All the best, everyone.

Shades of Gray will be posted tomorrow.

Summary: So don't you doubt what I've been dreaming. Arthur/Eames

Arthur was settled deeply into the plush armchair by the fire, watching the flames without seeing them. His thoughts and attention were elsewhere – far far away – and only vaguely aware of the searing heat of the flames, the crackling of the logs, the chill of the glass held loosely in one hand. It was his second glass of scotch; the first had disappeared quickly in an attempt to drown his sorrows, while the second lingered to keep him company.

He hadn't changed since he had run, his suit's style not out of place in this posh bar lounge, though he made sure the few tears of fabric were not visible. He had felt shaken when first arriving at the lounge, practically vibrating with unused energy as he got his drink, got his second drink, and found a solitary chair by the fire. No one else had approached him to take the opposite armchair or the other two loveseats by the fire but Arthur was grateful; he just needed to be alone for a while.

"It wasn't your fault."

Arthur felt his body jolt before he could control his automatic response, adrenaline still buzzing beneath the surface of his skin in preparation to run again. He knew it had been somewhat foolish to stop running so quickly, but he was relatively confident that he had managed to outrun anyone motivated enough to follow him. Unfortunately, he had been wrong. Arthur glanced up in brief annoyance, unwilling to deal with Eames at this precise moment. "I'm not in preschool," he glared at the man before taking a measured sip of his scotch. "I don't need you to tell me it's not my fault. Nor," he continued when he saw Eames shift a small box into view, "Do I need you to bring me pastries."

"Whoever said they were for you, darling?" the Forger raised an accusatory eyebrow and settled in the armchair opposite him, placing the box down on the small table between them. "Maybe cinnamon buns are just my favourite," Eames added as he picked one of the warm, sticky buns from the box to taste.

Arthur did his best to avert his gaze, staring down into his scotch or the fire, but found it difficult to look away as some white icing smeared along Eames's plump lips. He couldn't help but watch as the man licked his fingers clean with agonizing slowness. Arthur knew for a fact that Eames knew cinnamon buns were his favourite. "I hope you enjoy them then," he sniffed indignantly, downing the rest of his glass.

"Don't be like that, love," Eames sighed, nudging the open box a little closer towards him. "You know I got them for you."

It was with a warm fluttering in his stomach that Arthur finally broke down and selected one of the pastries for himself, feeling the icing and pastry melt against his fingers. He didn't bother to hide the tiny, grudging smile of thanks he sent the other man before abandoning his glass to the table and biting into the sweet dessert.

You, by the light

Is the greatest find

In a world full of wrong

You're the thing that's right

Finally made it through the lonely

To the other side

Arthur chewed thoughtfully as he watched Eames, who switched between watching him and the fire. Eames really was beautiful; the warm glow of the fire only accentuating this for Arthur's viewing pleasure. Those bright eyes seemed to capture and contain the flames in dark irises, the rest of the light sharpening the streaks of blue and green. They reminded Arthur of stained glass in a cathedral; breathtaking but oddly otherworldly.

The man's cheeks were flushed slightly as the fire thawed the remaining outside chill from Eames's body. It only added another layer of colour to the Forger's already-tanned skin, while the shadows made that skin look incredibly soft to the touch. Eames was also dressed to suit the lounge, clearly following Arthur's lead and not yet bothering to stop to change.

Arthur realized, quite suddenly while watching Eames, how glad he was to have the man there with him. He didn't even feel the need to ask the dream worker how he had managed to track Arthur from Rio de Janeiro, because he honestly didn't mind. The Point Man was used to ending up in some random city, alone with a drink after a job, and normally he was content with that. However this time, despite what he had thought earlier, he had not been content until Eames arrived with his stupid, adorably sweet pastry-offerings.

It had bothered Arthur at first, knowing that Eames was skilled enough to latch onto him and not let go if Arthur attempted to disappear without a trace. He was a private person and enjoyed his space. He wasn't a fan of human baggage – especially baggage that seemed capable of reading every thought on his face and make himself into a pain trying to dispel his worries. However, the thought had slowly grown on him, the ideal behind it, without Arthur's permission. And now he felt himself finally relaxing into his chair fully, concerns of their botched job slipping away easily.

Although he would never admit it aloud, knowing the Forger would be impossible to manage if his ego got any larger, Arthur had to admit that Eames was a good guy. He had been trying to shake the man for years, ever since they first met, and he was thankful that Eames had never given up. It was only in the firelight, left to his own thoughts while Eames fell comfortably silent, that Arthur was finally ready to admit how lucky he was to have caught Eames's eye. In such a dark, cold world, especially the uncaring world of illegal dream work, Eames felt like a treasure; like the only thing right in the world.

You set it again, my heart's in motion

Every word feels like a shooting star

I'm at the edge of my emotions

Watching the shadows burning in the dark

Those eyes turned to him and didn't flicker away again. Arthur felt his heart skip a beat embarrassingly as he met those eyes strongly, wondering where this might be headed. "Have another one, darling," Eames motioned for the remaining pastries, one left for each of them, "Before they get cold."

Arthur felt like he was a teenager with his first crush as he blushed at the doting attention, sent an obligatory glare in Eames's general directly, and plucked out another cinnamon bun. "They're good," he forced himself to say, feeling awkward and nervous. A part of him still felt as though he should simply get up and leave, run so far and so fast that Eames would never have a chance of catching up with him. But with how he felt right now, like he had suddenly found the correct path to follow, he did his best to suppress his withdrawal instincts and offer another small, rare smile.

"I'm glad," Eames admitted with a broad, dazzling smile before taking the final cinnamon bun. Arthur wasn't sure how it happened, how his heart could possibly race any faster without beating out of his chest, but it seemed determined to try. They sat in silence for another few minutes, Arthur waving away the waiter when he came to collect his glass to refill it. Then he felt Eames's eyes fall on him again, searching. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Arthur shook his head slowly. He could barely comprehend what he was feeling, how he could be so distraught over a ruined job, or why his heart was responding so energetically to a simple, familiar smile. But he felt like every word Eames spoke was like a sparkler being set alight on his skin, and it was...pleasant. Even when the current conversation was on a botched job, he didn't think he wanted to chase this away. In fact, it was honestly a relief to not be alone to deal with his thoughts, for the first time.

And I'm in love

And I'm terrified

For the first time and the last time

In my only life

Love.

The thought startled him. It startled him so badly he was half tempted to stand up from his chair and walk out right then. Arthur forced himself to remain seated though, beginning to realize that this feeling might be worth the terror causing his limbs to go jittery. Or maybe that was his sudden heightened awareness of the man sitting across from him, watching him softly. Arthur was almost positive Eames could tell what was going on in his head, always able to read his face better than anyone else. But while that would normally infuriate him, have his defences up, it was finally relieving.

He could barely remember the last time he had felt this way, distancing himself from everything to keep himself and everyone else safe when he entered illegal dream work. As cold as he acted, he couldn't bear the thought of letting someone down or hurting them. At the same time, he didn't think he was strong enough to open himself fully to someone else, to share everything and trust that they wouldn't break his heart. He didn't know how to do that, whether he wanted to do that. All he knew was that if it was going to be with anyone, he wanted that someone to be Eames.

And this could be good

It's already better than that

And nothing's worse

Than knowing you're holding back

I could be all that you're needing

If you let me try

"This could be good, love," Eames suggested almost absentmindedly, though Arthur could tell the Forger was reading all of the cues his body was giving away without his permission. "It's already better than that. Think of how much better it could be."

Arthur shook his head, still fearful of giving in to this. They were in a dangerous profession and there was no guarantee that Eames would survive the next job, or the one after that; similarly, there was no guarantee for Arthur to see the next year. It was just the way things were, what you had to sacrifice to pursue such a profession. The Point Man had learned that lesson quite painfully as he watched Dom and Mal's relationship; he didn't want that to happen to him. To finally give in and love, only to have that taken away. "You're living in a fantasy, Eames," he accused sadly.

"I know you want this too, darling," Eames pressed. "And there's nothing worse than knowing you're holding back."

"That's not fair," Arthur snapped, feeling weak and defensive. "You can't make me into the bad guy here. It's not just a matter of what I want."

"Then what is it a matter of?" Eames asked him calmly, eyes never wavering. "Because what you want is pretty high up on my priority list."

Arthur bit his lip, "The fact that we are involved in a dangerous profession filled with pain and broken promises." He picked up his glass, not to call for another but to distract himself with the shaped ridges of crystal against his palm. "If something were to happen, it would hurt so much less if we never moved beyond this point." He knew he sounded cold, uncaring, but it was the only way he could protect himself.

"I could be everything you're needing, Arthur," Eames offered softly, leaning forward in his chair and removing a few more inches of space between them. "If you would just let me try. As much as you don't want to admit it, we both already depend on one another," the Forger continued despite Arthur's sound of protest at the man's offer. "What's wrong with us moving beyond simple co-worker and complicated friend reliance towards something more? Why can't we protect each other and chase each others' fears away?"

You set it again, my heart's in motion

Every word feels like a shooting star

I'm at the edge of my emotions

Watching the shadows burning in the dark

Arthur swallowed thickly, not knowing how to respond to those heavy questions. However, Eames did not seem to be waiting for an answer, instead speaking up again as soon as he saw a flicker of hesitation across the Point Man's face. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, darling?" Eames asked him seriously, his eyes breathtaking as they seemed to light up with emotion. "You set my heart racing every time I see you, and it never slows down until long after we split up after a job."

"Eames..." Arthur whispered, his protests weakening now as Eames's words lit a hearty fire in his chest.

"I love listening to you talk, even if you're trying to explain financials to me for a job," the Forger continued, undeterred now. "I love watching you working in your element because you are breathtaking and inspiring, and I love watching you struggle and overcome a challenge; I just wish you would let me be by your side to help you along your way."

Arthur scoffed in disbelief. "You already have been helping me, Eames," he chided the man, "More than you know." Having the Forger on a job with him always made Arthur feel that he would never be alone, that there would always be support by his side without even needing to ask. It had always been incredibly comforting and reassuring, even though the Point Man had always refused to acknowledge it lest he accidentally admit he needed such support.

"I love you, Arthur," Eames suddenly blurted, eyes going wide at the quick declaration but looking determined nonetheless. Arthur was reeling. He had always suspected that the undertones of the Forger's flirting had been too sincere to be mere amusement, but hearing the words spoken aloud made everything so much more real. "I love everything about you and I want to be with you through thick and thin. I'm terrified, love," Eames insisted, probably reading the mirrored fear in Arthur's face. "I'm terrified because I don't know what I'll do if you reject me, and I don't know what I'll do if I ever lose you."

"Then why would you ever want to pursue this?" he questioned quietly, trying to understand, trying to find that reason to take a similar leap of faith.

"Because I'm going to be terrified either way, pet," Eames confessed. "I'll always worry about someone else stealing you away from me, from what I do already have with you. I'll always be afraid of something happening to you – especially if I'm not there to help you." The other dream worker gave a heavy sigh, seeming to deflate slightly. "I figure that if we're going to be terrified either way, we might as well enjoy ourselves and not waste anymore time."

And I'm in love

And I'm terrified

For the first time and the last time

In my only...

Eames was watching him intently, the empty box of pastries the only thing separating them. He must have been able to tell that Arthur was wavering, breaking down, because then the Forger abandoned his chair to stand in front of Arthur, hand held out in offering. "Join me on the loveseat, pet?" he asked warmly, smiling nervously.

Arthur glanced over at the two couches by the fire critically before sweeping the lounge and determining how busy it was. Then he met Eames's gaze again, feeling slightly lightheaded as his heart beat frantically with nerves. "Let's go back to my place," he counter-offered, a similar shy smile on his own lips.

Eames blinked in surprise and then gave him a flourishing bow. "Of course, my love," the man spoke in a playful tone. "Lead the way."

Arthur took that hand, still held aloft in silent offering, and didn't let go as they paid and left the lounge. The wind was bitter cold when it first hit them and he didn't hesitate to duck against Eames's side slightly for warmth. Arthur hadn't bothered to bring gloves, not planning on staying this far north for long, so they abandoned hand holding to avoid cold exposure to his bare skin. Eames seemed unperturbed though; instead the other dream worker wound an arm around his shoulders and positioned his body between Arthur and the wind as much as possible.

Luckily it wasn't a far trek back to the small hotel Arthur had temporarily moved into, and the heat of the lobby was soon thawing them out again. The hotel was certainly not to Arthur's usual tastes, but he had not seen the point in choosing a high-end hotel and drawing attention to himself. After all, he had only needed a heater, a washroom, and a bed until he left again in the morning. He wondered now what the morning would bring, whether he would stay or leave and whether Eames would be beside him, but had a more pressing question in mind as he slipped the hotel key into its lock.

The moment the door fell closed behind them, Arthur whirled in place and pinned the Forger to the door. He could feel muscle flex and relax under his palms as they pressed hard against Eames's shoulders to keep him in place. Arthur nearly lost himself when he felt Eames's breath ghost over his face, their lips mere inches apart now, but forced himself to speak. "Why did you say that?"

"Which, pet?" Eames raised a teasing eyebrow.

"That you...loved me," Arthur spoke the words slowly, testing the feel of them on his lips.

I only said it 'cause I mean it

I only mean it cause' it's true

So don't you doubt what I've been dreaming

'Cause it fills me up and holds me close whenever I'm without you

Eames's eyes softened as the man continued to watch Arthur, seeming entirely unconcerned with being pinned to the hotel room door. Arthur, with all of his determination, felt himself melting against the other dream worker as well. "I only said it because I mean it, love. And I only mean it because it's true. I adored you the moment I met you, and loved you a few seconds after that."

Arthur allowed his eyes to drift closed for a moment when one of Eames's warm hands came up to brush his cheek tenderly. It had been so long since he had felt a touch like this, so caring, unhurried and loving. He couldn't help but lean into the touch, shivering lightly when a few fingers skimmed over his jaw line while Eames's thumb traced the outline of Arthur's lips. He could also feel his cheeks blushing slightly at the other man's praise, feeling embarrassed but in an oddly enjoyable way.

"Don't you doubt what I've been dreaming, Arthur," the Point Man jumped slightly when Eames's breath and words ghosted over his ear. Arthur shook his head quickly, eyes still closed, and feeling as though he was dazed; he had not doubted Eames's confession. "My dreams of you, of me with you, have always filled me up with hope whenever we weren't together – when you were off on another job without me. My only wish..." the Forger trailed off for a moment, causing Arthur to hold his breath in anticipation as those hot lips brushed against the outer shell of his ear, "is that I can make those dreams into a reality."

Arthur finally forced himself to pull away slightly, putting just enough distance between them so that he could examine Eames's face closely. He could see the fear in those beautiful eyes, terrified that Arthur would reject the man and his dreams of them sharing everything. He could see those lips attempting an easygoing smile and failing miserably. Arthur leaned closer so that his lips barely brushed Eames's own, finally making his decision. "Then what are you waiting for?"

You set it again (you set it again), my heart's in motion

Every word feels like a shooting star

Watching the shadows burning in the dark

Eames seemed frozen for a moment, eyes scanning Arthur's face quickly. But he must have found what he was looking for – no questions or uncertainties in Arthur's body or face – because he finally closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together. Arthur removed his hands from the other man's shoulders to wrap his arms around Eames neck, pressing himself closer to that incredibly warm body. Taking this as a sign, Eames wound one arm around Arthur's waist, pulling him close, while his other hand cupped the Point Man's face to angle his lips upward.

Their lips locked together at the perfect angle slowly, like they had been doing this forever and yet were hesitant in order to make sure it was perfect. The feel of Eames's body flush against his own, holding him close in a silent promise to never let him go, and the taste of the man's lips had him breathless. Or maybe that was because he refused to stop kissing Eames, even for oxygen, until absolutely necessary. Their parting was brief though, the two dream workers gasping for breath before connecting again almost violently in their desperation.

Arthur lost track of how long they remained like that, lips and bodies moving in harmony. But he finally pulled away and rested his forehead against Eames's, staring into those bright eyes. Arthur's heart was fluttering dangerously in his chest – there was no way the Forger couldn't feel it with how closely they were pressed together. It felt like every nerve beneath his skin had been turned on for the first time, sensations wild and wonderful. He felt dazed and lighter than air, and he never wanted to come back down from this incredibly warming high.

"Tell me you want this too, Arthur," Eames whispered against his skin, affectionate as his nose brushed the Point Man's sensitive skin. "Tell me you're willing to stand by me and allow me to do the same."

"I want this," Arthur confessed quietly, whispering his secret intimately. He was nodding with his own conviction, speaking against Eames's lips. "I'm terrified but I want you by my side. I love you, Eames."

"Yeah?" Eames questioned, sounding scared and unwilling to believe that his dreams had finally come true.

Arthur smiled, feeling Eames's lips curl up into a similar smile against his own in response. "Yeah," he agreed, nipping Eames's tempting lower lip mischievously. "Let me show you how much," he requested, sealing their lips together fully again, both of them still smiling as he slowly led Eames backwards towards his hotel bed.

And I'm in love

And I'm terrified

For the first time and the last time

In my only life