Also for Lo
For hungerpunch, who's had a no good, very bad day. I wrote this last night, and i kinda like it, and i have no idea if i'll ever do anything more with it, so. Have a little Inception drabble. Arthur/Eames/Ariadne.
"Why'd you go rogue, anyway?" Ariadne asks. It's very late at night, or very early in the morning; at some point soon the sky will start changing color, and perhaps already has, the barest hint of blue threading imperceptibly through the black.
Arthur shrugs, looking almost ruefully at the ceiling. They're sprawled in bed, sheets tangled around legs and hair loose and curling in the damp heat. "It didn't seem like a choice, really," he tries.
"He couldn't give it up," Eames translates from Arthur's other side, not bothering to open his eyes. He's got an arm slung across Arthur's waist, long-fingered hand curled over one cheek of Ariadne's ass. She'd thought him asleep until he spoke. "Watch him, th'next time he dreams. He's a nerd for it."
"You're one to talk," Arthur rebukes. "Showing off every time you're under."
"And again you confuse competence with braggadocio."
Arthur makes a noncommittal noise, too content to fight, it seems. "What about you?" he asks her. "Cobb showed up with an illegal job and you jumped at it without hesitation."
"I hesitated a little," Ariadne says, buying herself a little time. It doesn't help, though, and she shrugs, giving Arthur the same look he'd given the ceiling. "How could I turn down the chance for pure creation?"
Eames groans. "Nerds, the both of you," he clucks. "Shameful."
"Why'd you go rogue, anyway?" Ariadne asks. It's very late at night, or very early in the morning; at some point soon the sky will start changing color, and perhaps already has, the barest hint of blue threading imperceptibly through the black.
Arthur shrugs, looking almost ruefully at the ceiling. They're sprawled in bed, sheets tangled around legs and hair loose and curling in the damp heat. "It didn't seem like a choice, really," he tries.
"He couldn't give it up," Eames translates from Arthur's other side, not bothering to open his eyes. He's got an arm slung across Arthur's waist, long-fingered hand curled over one cheek of Ariadne's ass. She'd thought him asleep until he spoke. "Watch him, th'next time he dreams. He's a nerd for it."
"You're one to talk," Arthur rebukes. "Showing off every time you're under."
"And again you confuse competence with braggadocio."
Arthur makes a noncommittal noise, too content to fight, it seems. "What about you?" he asks her. "Cobb showed up with an illegal job and you jumped at it without hesitation."
"I hesitated a little," Ariadne says, buying herself a little time. It doesn't help, though, and she shrugs, giving Arthur the same look he'd given the ceiling. "How could I turn down the chance for pure creation?"
Eames groans. "Nerds, the both of you," he clucks. "Shameful."