Triple Rainbow
Title: Triple Rainbow
Author:
jenna_marianne
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: PG
Length: 675 words
Warning: unbeta'd
Summary: Crack, Fluff. Sequel to my silly Double Rainbow stories, " Look and that Rainbow" and " It's So Intense," it won't make much sense without having read those first. Arthur and Eames enjoy hot-air-ballooning through a rainbow filled dream.
A/N: So here's one out of my never published folder (written 09/21/2010). I was never quite satisfied with it and thought it could be better, but seven months later and I haven't touched it, so I may as well release it into the wilds of the internets.
Above a clover-covered field, drifting about some rainbows, a hot air balloon floated, it’s basket rocking every once in a while counter to the gentle breeze.
Inside, Arthur lay sprawled next to Eames, head pillowed on Eames’ bicep. He was swirling the red and blue pigment they’d splashed on each other earlier around the tattoos on Eames’ chest. Eames was carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair.
“Well,” said Eames, “I think Yusuf’s finally got it just about right this time. Pity, that.”
“Mmmmm,” said Arthur into Eames’ arm. “Maybe we can have him mix some up for some use at home, he’s kept the relaxing effects while getting rid of all the loopiness.”
“Yes, much smoother results, though what that first time lacked for in coherence, it made up for intensity,” smiling fondly at the memory of their reactions to the drug and Ariadne’s rainbows the first time.
Arthur snuggled into Eames side, before leaning up on one elbow and looking down at Eames. He started to say something, before getting distracted by Eames’ lips and leaning in for a little nibble. Eames’ arms came up around him, and they kissed each other passionately. The basket rocked gently in the wind and with their motions. Then Arthur leaned up, “What was I about to say?” he breathed into Eames’ mouth.
“I haven’t the foggiest,” said Eames, before pulling Arthur back down.
Minutes later, Arthur breathlessly collapsed back down next to Eames.
“How much longer do we have?” ask Eames into Arthur’s ruffled hair.
“I’m not sure,” said Arthur, yawning.
“Really, I thought you could always keep track?”
Arthur smiled softly, “You remember. Yes, usually I can keep count, but Yusuf’s experimental mixes interfere with that. We could ask Barry.”
“He knows?”
“Yes, maybe because Ariadne gave him so much musical abilities. He’s been keeping time for me. Why do you want to know?” asked Arthur.
“As much as I delight in your company, I thought we could check on Ariadne. She’s been awfully insistent on our continued forays into these less-than-lucid dreams. I’d like to make sure she’s alright,” said Eames, running a hand up and down Arthur’s flank.
Arthur stretched luxuriantly under Eames’ hand, reminding Eames of a cat, then sat up and transformed his disheveled, color-splashed shirt into a clean white button-up and gray waistcoat and trousers. “You’d noticed that, too? I’ve been wondering about that myself.”
Eames gave Arthur and admiring once-over, then his own clothing--an open Hawaiian shirt covered in pineapples and martini glasses and some cargo shorts, all splashed in red, blue and purple--shifted in the blink of an eye into blue and gray striped shirt and charcoal slacks. Arthur smiled, and ran his hands down the front of the shirt. “I thought you’d like this one,” said Eames, smiling fondly at Arthur.
Arthur pulled Eames into a kiss by the collar, before leaning back and straightening it. “Ready to go see Ariadne?”
“Yes, shall we?” said Eames, waving the arm not around Arthur’s waist towards the edge of the basket.
Arthur leaned over the side, “Hey Barry, how much time left on the clock,” he called down to the unicorn.
Barry, who’d been humming and munching on the clover below, occasionally singing out “look at that rainbow,” in his resonant baritone, called back, “Fifteen minutes, dream-time,” before kicking his back hoofs up playfully, cantering about the clearing and returning to his song.
Arthur and Eames exchanged grins before Arthur threw a rope-ladder over the side of the wicker basket. As it fell, it expanded into a rope and wicker stairway. Eames opened the waist-high door in the side of the basket, and arm-in-arm they descended the stairs, pausing occasionally to kiss.
Eames leaned back from the last kiss, laughing, “Yes, we really need Yusuf to give us a bit of this for recreational use. I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages.”
“Ditto,” said Arthur.
This entry was originally posted at http://jenna-marianne.dreamwidth.org/9340.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Author:
jenna_marianne
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: PG
Length: 675 words
Warning: unbeta'd
Summary: Crack, Fluff. Sequel to my silly Double Rainbow stories, " Look and that Rainbow" and " It's So Intense," it won't make much sense without having read those first. Arthur and Eames enjoy hot-air-ballooning through a rainbow filled dream.
A/N: So here's one out of my never published folder (written 09/21/2010). I was never quite satisfied with it and thought it could be better, but seven months later and I haven't touched it, so I may as well release it into the wilds of the internets.
Above a clover-covered field, drifting about some rainbows, a hot air balloon floated, it’s basket rocking every once in a while counter to the gentle breeze.
Inside, Arthur lay sprawled next to Eames, head pillowed on Eames’ bicep. He was swirling the red and blue pigment they’d splashed on each other earlier around the tattoos on Eames’ chest. Eames was carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair.
“Well,” said Eames, “I think Yusuf’s finally got it just about right this time. Pity, that.”
“Mmmmm,” said Arthur into Eames’ arm. “Maybe we can have him mix some up for some use at home, he’s kept the relaxing effects while getting rid of all the loopiness.”
“Yes, much smoother results, though what that first time lacked for in coherence, it made up for intensity,” smiling fondly at the memory of their reactions to the drug and Ariadne’s rainbows the first time.
Arthur snuggled into Eames side, before leaning up on one elbow and looking down at Eames. He started to say something, before getting distracted by Eames’ lips and leaning in for a little nibble. Eames’ arms came up around him, and they kissed each other passionately. The basket rocked gently in the wind and with their motions. Then Arthur leaned up, “What was I about to say?” he breathed into Eames’ mouth.
“I haven’t the foggiest,” said Eames, before pulling Arthur back down.
Minutes later, Arthur breathlessly collapsed back down next to Eames.
“How much longer do we have?” ask Eames into Arthur’s ruffled hair.
“I’m not sure,” said Arthur, yawning.
“Really, I thought you could always keep track?”
Arthur smiled softly, “You remember. Yes, usually I can keep count, but Yusuf’s experimental mixes interfere with that. We could ask Barry.”
“He knows?”
“Yes, maybe because Ariadne gave him so much musical abilities. He’s been keeping time for me. Why do you want to know?” asked Arthur.
“As much as I delight in your company, I thought we could check on Ariadne. She’s been awfully insistent on our continued forays into these less-than-lucid dreams. I’d like to make sure she’s alright,” said Eames, running a hand up and down Arthur’s flank.
Arthur stretched luxuriantly under Eames’ hand, reminding Eames of a cat, then sat up and transformed his disheveled, color-splashed shirt into a clean white button-up and gray waistcoat and trousers. “You’d noticed that, too? I’ve been wondering about that myself.”
Eames gave Arthur and admiring once-over, then his own clothing--an open Hawaiian shirt covered in pineapples and martini glasses and some cargo shorts, all splashed in red, blue and purple--shifted in the blink of an eye into blue and gray striped shirt and charcoal slacks. Arthur smiled, and ran his hands down the front of the shirt. “I thought you’d like this one,” said Eames, smiling fondly at Arthur.
Arthur pulled Eames into a kiss by the collar, before leaning back and straightening it. “Ready to go see Ariadne?”
“Yes, shall we?” said Eames, waving the arm not around Arthur’s waist towards the edge of the basket.
Arthur leaned over the side, “Hey Barry, how much time left on the clock,” he called down to the unicorn.
Barry, who’d been humming and munching on the clover below, occasionally singing out “look at that rainbow,” in his resonant baritone, called back, “Fifteen minutes, dream-time,” before kicking his back hoofs up playfully, cantering about the clearing and returning to his song.
Arthur and Eames exchanged grins before Arthur threw a rope-ladder over the side of the wicker basket. As it fell, it expanded into a rope and wicker stairway. Eames opened the waist-high door in the side of the basket, and arm-in-arm they descended the stairs, pausing occasionally to kiss.
Eames leaned back from the last kiss, laughing, “Yes, we really need Yusuf to give us a bit of this for recreational use. I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages.”
“Ditto,” said Arthur.
This entry was originally posted at http://jenna-marianne.dreamwidth.org/9340.html. Please comment there using OpenID.