Prompt Post No. 18
Welcome to Round 18 of the Inception Kink Meme.
Prompting System
Prompting System
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In the kitchen, Eames was lethargically sliding tins of food into a cupboard and Arthur slipped past Eames and the round table that had the bags of shopping and pumpkin on top and over to the sink where he washed out his mug. The water was icy and he held his fingers underneath the continuous flow, letting the needles of cold sink right into his flesh.
“How are you doing?” asked Eames, delving into one of the bags to retrieve a bag of pine nuts and a tall bottle of pomegranate molasses.
“Fine,” replied Arthur. His fingers were numb.
“Did you get much sleep?”
“Enough.” Arthur retrieved a glass from the sideboard and filled it with water. He was unable feel the coolness of the metal tap as he swiveled it off.
“In that case,” said Eames as he pulled out small bouquet of carrots with their greens still attached. “Do you feel up to going out tonight?”
Arthur stroked the rim of his glass. “Why?”
“Do you remember the job I did before I met up you with in Santiago? The one with the fake Courbet?” Eames said as he finished putting the shopping away and the word ‘August’ slid into Arthur’s mind along with images of cells fusing together.
“Vaguely,” he answered, moving to the cupboard that was used to a store a miniature pharmacy. He picked out the oblong box of antibiotics he’d been prescribed. His hand felt weak and not really connected to his body as he moved the two tablets in his palm to mouth. He swallowed them with a jerk of his head and flushed them down with the entire glass of water, all the while listening to Eames who had been saying, “Well, I have to go to some incredibly dull dinner party that Mr. Jaworski is throwing to unveil the painting. I think he just wants me there for back up when he starts being a smug-arse git about it but I don’t really fancy going by myself.”
“Then you shouldn’t have said you’d go,” Arthur stated after the final gulp of his drink. He wasn’t in the mood to socialise. It felt like any kind of interaction with anyone but Eames would leave him with a massive knot pounding in the centre of his brain.
“Its work, love,” said Eames, shedding himself of his coat and folding it over the back of a chair. “Kind of have to, so, will you come?”
“No,” replied Arthur, leaning back into the counter. “If you don’t want to go, why don’t you slither out of it like you usually do when you don’t want to do something? You’re good at that.”
He had meant to sound playful but what he had said had come out smeared in snideness.
Eames snapped back with, “Because I don’t feel like spending another night stuck in here, pushing food around my plate and reading books that I know by heart.”
Eames breathed hard through his nose for a moment, clenching his jaw tight and deflated, briefly slipping his eyes shut before muttering “Sorry.”
Arthur shook his head. This was his fault. Eames wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for him. He wouldn’t look like a ghoul, a shadow of version of himself. His skin wouldn’t be sallow and he wouldn’t have dark crescents branded underneath his eyes. His nails wouldn’t be ragged and he wouldn’t look like he was so drained of energy that it was an effort to stand.
“It doesn’t matter, alright,” Eames began quietly, and Arthur put down his glass and placed himself in between the table and Eames. He nudged their noses together and pressed a soft kiss onto Eames’ plump lips, his tongue staying firmly sealed in his mouth. His kissed Eames’ philtrum, his jaw, his cheek, his crow’s feet and then slid his face against Eames’, resting his chin on Eames’ shoulder.
“I’ll go but I don’t want to stay too late, okay?” Arthur said. If Eames needed him to spend a few hours being bored around a group of strangers then he could do that. It wasn’t as though Eames was asking him for much.
Eames nodded. “Thank you.”
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I can't wait for the next part.
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This is killing me, but I'm enjoying it so much.
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