Fic: Blue Lips (Eames/Arthur)
Fill for the inception_kink prompt from the most recent round "Arthur and Eames have to huddle together in the same sweatshirt to stay warm. idgaf why." Un-anon because I'm cool like that and it's not kinky-ass prawns. I wrote this on my cell phone at the county fair at a Joan Jett concert. weirdest situation for fanficcing, i think yes.
Title: Blue Lips
Fandom: Inception
Warnings: extreme cold/schmoop/some cursing. chronic overuse of the term "freezing to death".
Characters: Eames and Arthur.
Wordcount: short. almost five hundred. SO SHORT.
don't own Inception, just playing with Nolan's toys.
----
Arthur shivered; this job was not going exactly according to plan. They were supposed to be done by now. They were supposed to be awake. They were not supposed to be freezing their collective asses off in an abandoned ski lodge, hiding from a fictional monster. This went far beyond anything Arthur could have prepared for, to the point of absolute stupidity.
"Bloody hell, Arthur," Eames said through chattering teeth, keeping one hand on the shoulder of their unconscious Mark and the other holding his meagre sweater as close as he possibly could around his frigid body. "How did you not see this in your research?" The Forger frowned bitterly, and Arthur could not help notice that his full lips were turning blue.
"People don't tend to make this kind of thing public. And even if I'd have known that this idiot," Arthur gestured angrily to their unconscious Mark, "had a pathological fear of the goddamn Ski-Free monster, I wouldn't have expected it to manifest in here and try to kill us!" The Point Man laughed in spite of himself. "I'm sorry I yelled," he said apologetically, shuddering with the cold. "It's not your fault that we're stuck in here, dying what is probably the most ridiculous death either of us will ever die."
"It's not your fault either, darling," Eames assured him weakly. The Forger considered telling Arthur that it would be alright; saying that they weren't going to die, weren't going to freeze to death, but he just couldn't make himself say something he didn't believe himself. Instead, The Forger stripped the sweater he was wearing off and offered it to Arthur. "Here," he said, smiling weakly and pretending that he wasn’t colder than he remembered ever being in his life.
Arthur shook his head numbly, fighting off another frozen tremor. "No way, Eames," he replied firmly. "I won't take that and watch you freeze to death."
"Well neither will I," Eames told him. Both men looked at the sweater with survival-driven longing. "Come here," The Forger said after a moment, beckoning towards Arthur. "We'll share."
"We're both going to die before the kick, Eames. That's not enough warmth for two people for four hours."
Eames smiled dully. "Well then we’ll die together, won't we, darling?"
Arthur crawled across the icy ski lodge floor and wrapped himself around Eames' chest, pressing his face close next to the other man‘s heart and holding him tighter than he had ever held anything before. For survival, of course. As the Forger pulled the sweater over both of their shivering bodies, a wave of warmth spread through Arthur from head to toe. He grinned into Eames' chest, the sound of the Forger's heart echoing in his ears. "I know other ways to keep warm," he whispered through blue lips.
Eames ran a hand through Arthur's gelled hair, ruffling it affectionately. "Maybe we won't freeze to death after all," he said softly, pulling the Point Man's icy lips to his own.
Title: Blue Lips
Fandom: Inception
Warnings: extreme cold/schmoop/some cursing. chronic overuse of the term "freezing to death".
Characters: Eames and Arthur.
Wordcount: short. almost five hundred. SO SHORT.
don't own Inception, just playing with Nolan's toys.
----
Arthur shivered; this job was not going exactly according to plan. They were supposed to be done by now. They were supposed to be awake. They were not supposed to be freezing their collective asses off in an abandoned ski lodge, hiding from a fictional monster. This went far beyond anything Arthur could have prepared for, to the point of absolute stupidity.
"Bloody hell, Arthur," Eames said through chattering teeth, keeping one hand on the shoulder of their unconscious Mark and the other holding his meagre sweater as close as he possibly could around his frigid body. "How did you not see this in your research?" The Forger frowned bitterly, and Arthur could not help notice that his full lips were turning blue.
"People don't tend to make this kind of thing public. And even if I'd have known that this idiot," Arthur gestured angrily to their unconscious Mark, "had a pathological fear of the goddamn Ski-Free monster, I wouldn't have expected it to manifest in here and try to kill us!" The Point Man laughed in spite of himself. "I'm sorry I yelled," he said apologetically, shuddering with the cold. "It's not your fault that we're stuck in here, dying what is probably the most ridiculous death either of us will ever die."
"It's not your fault either, darling," Eames assured him weakly. The Forger considered telling Arthur that it would be alright; saying that they weren't going to die, weren't going to freeze to death, but he just couldn't make himself say something he didn't believe himself. Instead, The Forger stripped the sweater he was wearing off and offered it to Arthur. "Here," he said, smiling weakly and pretending that he wasn’t colder than he remembered ever being in his life.
Arthur shook his head numbly, fighting off another frozen tremor. "No way, Eames," he replied firmly. "I won't take that and watch you freeze to death."
"Well neither will I," Eames told him. Both men looked at the sweater with survival-driven longing. "Come here," The Forger said after a moment, beckoning towards Arthur. "We'll share."
"We're both going to die before the kick, Eames. That's not enough warmth for two people for four hours."
Eames smiled dully. "Well then we’ll die together, won't we, darling?"
Arthur crawled across the icy ski lodge floor and wrapped himself around Eames' chest, pressing his face close next to the other man‘s heart and holding him tighter than he had ever held anything before. For survival, of course. As the Forger pulled the sweater over both of their shivering bodies, a wave of warmth spread through Arthur from head to toe. He grinned into Eames' chest, the sound of the Forger's heart echoing in his ears. "I know other ways to keep warm," he whispered through blue lips.
Eames ran a hand through Arthur's gelled hair, ruffling it affectionately. "Maybe we won't freeze to death after all," he said softly, pulling the Point Man's icy lips to his own.