Work Text:
It was Spring Break for college kids in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, which meant Eames was home for the week. It wasn’t Spring Break for the high school kids in Gladwyne though, which was a mild annoyance for the family and a colossal disappointment for Eames, who wanted to take his baby (step)brother out of the country for the week, back to South London where they went every year for a week since the Eames family married into the Penrose family. This year it seemed they would be stuck at home, with Arthur doing homework and writing papers, and Eames distracting him constantly with the want to go out and have fun.
Arthur’s resolve refused to crumble.
“I would have had this stuff done already if you hadn’t been skyping me for all of this last week!” Arthur hissed as Eames pawed at the notebook in front of him, trying to get Arthur to put it away and go out on the town with him. “Go out with Dom or something, I’m busy.”
Eames scowled. “I don’t want to go out with that ponce, I want to go out with you.”
“Go make me some food and let me finish these two pages. I need to study later tonight though.”
It wasn’t good enough for Eames. “Fuck homework, you’re moving in with me after school anyway. You don’t need to know this shit, you can be my Kept Boy.”
Arthur’s lips pursed. “Fuck you, Eames. I want to go to college too.”
“But why?” Eames whined, sliding in next to Arthur on the bed and nosing at his temple. “You don’t want to laze around all day and make me supper, wait for me to come home after a hard day’s work and then have me fuck you into the wall each night?”
A crack in Arthur’s resolve. His lips parted and he leaned into Eames’ nosing, the hand he gripped his pencil with loosening until pencil hit paper. “As good as that sounds,” he said quietly, “I still want to get good grades. Let me do my work. We’ve got the entire week left, you’ll get some of my time, I promise.”
Eames frowned, his fingers dancing over the small of Arthur’s back like little soldiers marching into battle—under Arthur’s polo and up the dip in his back. “Oh, the lies that have come from those lips, darling.”
“Eames. Please.”
With a huff, Eames backed off and rolled away, facing the opposite direction but speaking to Arthur. “I’ve never seen an American boy your age so fucking obsessed with homework. I’ll be playing Xbox downstairs if you need me.”
Arthur watched his step-brother leave the room in a tizzy, and pressed the heel of his palm to his eye in frustration until he saw spots. It was lovely that Eames wanted to support him after school, but the fact was that Eames could barely hold a job as it was, and… And, well, they were brothers with an open relationship. Arthur was 14. Eames was 22. Eames was a dreamer, didn’t like to root his ideas in reality, preferring to fantasize with his head in the clouds rather than keep his feet on the ground and realize that sometimes, life didn’t go the way you wanted it to.
And this thing they had. Who said it would last forever? Not like they could ever legally get married—just because they weren’t blood related, didn’t mean they weren’t brothers. No matter what country they were in, they’d never be able to legally be more than brothers rooming with each other.
Face buried in his hands, Arthur growled in frustration. He wasn’t old enough to be worrying about this shit anyway.
Fuck it, he’d lost his line of thought and couldn’t seem to reclaim it. The essay would have to wait until later. Fucking Eames would be pleased to have gotten his way.
Asshole.