Breaking Secret - Inception - Arthur/Cobb
Title: Breaking Secrets
Pairing: Arthur/Cobb
Word Count: 1026
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Written for thisissirius for the Five Acts Meme.
Summary: Arthur can't handle watching Eames flirt with Cobb.
Eames is flirting.
This isn't unusual.
He's flirting with Cobb.
Also, not unusual.
He's flirting with Cobb and touching him, an innocent trail of his fingers against Cobb's arm while he leans in a little bit too close. It's all a game for Eames, Arthur knows that, but as he watches it he can feel his heart thumping, too hard, too hard. This thing between himself and Cobb, it still feels too fragile, too new, for Eames's intervention. He's waited for years, hiding in plain sight, loving Cobb and accepting that he can't have him.
Now he can. Now he does. Now he doesn't think that he could stand for anyone to take Cobb away.
Eames's hand slides down, his thumb brushing over the inside of Cobb's wrist. Arthur shifts behind his desk and tries to pretend that he isn't watching - but he sees the brief flutter of Cobb's eyelids. He remembers the sensitivity of that spot. How could he not? Gentle fingers brushing against that vulnerable skin have the same effect as holding Cobb down firmly, refusing to let him squirm. Arthur has experimented enough to know Cobb's body inside and out by now - and he's experimented enough to know that Eames should not be touching that spot.
Eames doesn't know - it's not his fault, Arthur has to remind himself, because they've kept it to themselves. No need to openly complicate matters while they're on a job. Besides, Arthur had said, it's nobody else's business.
Watching Cobb pull his wrist out of Eames's grasp, and that sight is enough to make Arthur smile, a tiny twitch of his lips that he keeps to himself. "It's hardly professional," Yusuf sighs beside him, as if commiserating with his annoyance. "I don't think Eames knows how to focus for any extended length of time."
Arthur nods, but he isn't thinking about Eames now. Now, he is thinking about how Cobb must have noticed him watching; his body language speaks of the awkward unease, as if he is too aware of all of his limbs. He's very deliberately not looking towards Arthur now - he must know that that would give him away, that it would reveal every thought. Clutching his pen, Arthur can't help but wonder what those thoughts are. Cobb knows what he gets like when they're alone. His composure breaks, and the greed rises. All that he needs, very suddenly, when they're alone together is to touch him, to take every inch just to remind himself that he can. He'd devour him whole, if he could.
Now Eames has touched that one patch of skin on Cobb's wrist - and, for once, Arthur can't be angry at him for it. Arthur has no claim to Cobb, publicly. As far as anyone in this room is concerned, he's a free agent.
With that uncomfortable twist in his stomach, Arthur thinks that it might be time to set things straight.
Even knowing that Cobb might resent him for it, the heat in his veins won't take no for an answer. He stands up with enough force that his chair almost falls over. Instantly, all eyes in the room are on him, but there's only one pair that he's interested in. Cobb frowns, worry and confusion lining his brow, and Arthur feels his heart racing as he moves around the desk, aiming right for Cobb. Cobb has the time to take a caution half-step backwards, but Arthur catches him - and this time, it's his fingers against Cobb's wrist. He can feel the thumping of Cobb's pulse against his hand, and he hears the hitch of breath that tells him he is doing everything right.
"Arthur," Cobb says. His voice is level and steady. "What's going on?"
For once, Arthur needs Cobb to shut up. Their problems usually involve Cobb's trademark silence about the most important matters - but right now Arthur would cherish the quiet. He doesn't have an answer. He has no explanation for what he's doing. He just needs people to know.
With a hand against the back of Cobb's head, he pulls him forward until their lips meet. There's nothing soft here, like there usually is. Nothing cautious, nothing gentle. He doesn't touch Cobb like he's worried about scaring him off - he kisses him like he's not going to let him run. His fingers tangle in Cobb's blond hair and he licks his way into his mouth, tongue taking charge. Cobb allows it, allows him to do whatever he wants as if stopping him isn't an option that could ever cross his mind.
Arthur's hand slips down onto Cobb's neck, placing his thumb against where he can feel Cobb's pulse racing. He feels Cobb shiver and give himself over even more, and he smirks into the kiss, feeling sure that he's made his point. He can feel Cobb coming apart in his grasp, Cobb's hands clutching to the front of his shirt as if he isn't going to let him back off, not ever. They could stay like this, just like this, kissing in the centre of the warehouse forever. Who could stop them? Who would dare?
Yet Cobb is pushing as close as he can get, and if they're not careful they are going to have to take this somewhere private. With an impressive show of will-power, Arthur breaks his lips away. He ducks his head and takes a step backwards, gathering his thoughts and his breath. Cheeks pink, he looks up at Eames - and he can see the surprised smile on his face, eyebrows raised in open delight. Everything is a joke to Eames. It always has been.
"Cobb is mine," Arthur says, surprising himself as much as Cobb.
Eames raises his hands in a show of defeat. "I didn't realise," he says, and even if he sounds as if he is seconds away from bursting into laughter, it's enough to feel like a victory. Arthur stalks back to his desk to get back to work, not quite able to meet Cobb's eyes yet. He needs to sit down and wait until his hard-on subsides.
Tonight, he can get back to the work of proving to Cobb just who he belongs to now.
Pairing: Arthur/Cobb
Word Count: 1026
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Written for thisissirius for the Five Acts Meme.
Summary: Arthur can't handle watching Eames flirt with Cobb.
Eames is flirting.
This isn't unusual.
He's flirting with Cobb.
Also, not unusual.
He's flirting with Cobb and touching him, an innocent trail of his fingers against Cobb's arm while he leans in a little bit too close. It's all a game for Eames, Arthur knows that, but as he watches it he can feel his heart thumping, too hard, too hard. This thing between himself and Cobb, it still feels too fragile, too new, for Eames's intervention. He's waited for years, hiding in plain sight, loving Cobb and accepting that he can't have him.
Now he can. Now he does. Now he doesn't think that he could stand for anyone to take Cobb away.
Eames's hand slides down, his thumb brushing over the inside of Cobb's wrist. Arthur shifts behind his desk and tries to pretend that he isn't watching - but he sees the brief flutter of Cobb's eyelids. He remembers the sensitivity of that spot. How could he not? Gentle fingers brushing against that vulnerable skin have the same effect as holding Cobb down firmly, refusing to let him squirm. Arthur has experimented enough to know Cobb's body inside and out by now - and he's experimented enough to know that Eames should not be touching that spot.
Eames doesn't know - it's not his fault, Arthur has to remind himself, because they've kept it to themselves. No need to openly complicate matters while they're on a job. Besides, Arthur had said, it's nobody else's business.
Watching Cobb pull his wrist out of Eames's grasp, and that sight is enough to make Arthur smile, a tiny twitch of his lips that he keeps to himself. "It's hardly professional," Yusuf sighs beside him, as if commiserating with his annoyance. "I don't think Eames knows how to focus for any extended length of time."
Arthur nods, but he isn't thinking about Eames now. Now, he is thinking about how Cobb must have noticed him watching; his body language speaks of the awkward unease, as if he is too aware of all of his limbs. He's very deliberately not looking towards Arthur now - he must know that that would give him away, that it would reveal every thought. Clutching his pen, Arthur can't help but wonder what those thoughts are. Cobb knows what he gets like when they're alone. His composure breaks, and the greed rises. All that he needs, very suddenly, when they're alone together is to touch him, to take every inch just to remind himself that he can. He'd devour him whole, if he could.
Now Eames has touched that one patch of skin on Cobb's wrist - and, for once, Arthur can't be angry at him for it. Arthur has no claim to Cobb, publicly. As far as anyone in this room is concerned, he's a free agent.
With that uncomfortable twist in his stomach, Arthur thinks that it might be time to set things straight.
Even knowing that Cobb might resent him for it, the heat in his veins won't take no for an answer. He stands up with enough force that his chair almost falls over. Instantly, all eyes in the room are on him, but there's only one pair that he's interested in. Cobb frowns, worry and confusion lining his brow, and Arthur feels his heart racing as he moves around the desk, aiming right for Cobb. Cobb has the time to take a caution half-step backwards, but Arthur catches him - and this time, it's his fingers against Cobb's wrist. He can feel the thumping of Cobb's pulse against his hand, and he hears the hitch of breath that tells him he is doing everything right.
"Arthur," Cobb says. His voice is level and steady. "What's going on?"
For once, Arthur needs Cobb to shut up. Their problems usually involve Cobb's trademark silence about the most important matters - but right now Arthur would cherish the quiet. He doesn't have an answer. He has no explanation for what he's doing. He just needs people to know.
With a hand against the back of Cobb's head, he pulls him forward until their lips meet. There's nothing soft here, like there usually is. Nothing cautious, nothing gentle. He doesn't touch Cobb like he's worried about scaring him off - he kisses him like he's not going to let him run. His fingers tangle in Cobb's blond hair and he licks his way into his mouth, tongue taking charge. Cobb allows it, allows him to do whatever he wants as if stopping him isn't an option that could ever cross his mind.
Arthur's hand slips down onto Cobb's neck, placing his thumb against where he can feel Cobb's pulse racing. He feels Cobb shiver and give himself over even more, and he smirks into the kiss, feeling sure that he's made his point. He can feel Cobb coming apart in his grasp, Cobb's hands clutching to the front of his shirt as if he isn't going to let him back off, not ever. They could stay like this, just like this, kissing in the centre of the warehouse forever. Who could stop them? Who would dare?
Yet Cobb is pushing as close as he can get, and if they're not careful they are going to have to take this somewhere private. With an impressive show of will-power, Arthur breaks his lips away. He ducks his head and takes a step backwards, gathering his thoughts and his breath. Cheeks pink, he looks up at Eames - and he can see the surprised smile on his face, eyebrows raised in open delight. Everything is a joke to Eames. It always has been.
"Cobb is mine," Arthur says, surprising himself as much as Cobb.
Eames raises his hands in a show of defeat. "I didn't realise," he says, and even if he sounds as if he is seconds away from bursting into laughter, it's enough to feel like a victory. Arthur stalks back to his desk to get back to work, not quite able to meet Cobb's eyes yet. He needs to sit down and wait until his hard-on subsides.
Tonight, he can get back to the work of proving to Cobb just who he belongs to now.