Arthur/Eames fic!
Title: Taking Advantage
Character/Pairings: Arthur/Eames, Cobb
Rating: PG-13 ish?
Disclaimer: If I owned Inception, I'd be able to understand it. Clearly that is not the case.
Warning: Overuse of italics, perhaps.
Summary: In which Arthur and Eames are locked in a broom closet, Eames wants to make out, and Arthur wants to organize.
Author's Notes: Written for the prompt "trapped in a closet" over at inceptionkink.
“Cobb is laughing at us.”
“Arthur - ”
“I guarantee you, Cobb is out there, laughing at us. Right now. And it’s all your fault.”
“Darling, my fault how, precisely.”
Arthur sighs and dusts off his suit jacket. “You annoyed him somehow - ”
“Would I really?” Eames says, grabbing Arthur’s hand and kissing his fingers.
Arthur wrenches his hand away. “Yes. Yes, you would. I think he saw us yesterday.”
“Well, unless I’m much mistaken, you were a rather willing participant in that activity.”
Arthur sighs. “Regardless, I believe he has locked us in a broom closet because he thinks it’s funny.”
“Arthur, you wanted to tidy up this place a bit anyway.”
“Yes, and you followed me in because you thought we could - make out in it, and then the door swung shut.”
Eames gives Arthur a very Arthur-like look. “It’s called snogging in a broom closet. It’s romantic.”
“It’s dusty,” Arthur says, looking around.
Eames smirks. “You prefer a bed of roses, darling?”
“To this? Yes.”
“But - ”
“Eames, as much as I enjoy doing certain things with you - and believe me, I really, really do - this is a place that needs to be organized, not - ”
“Fucked in?”
“Exactly.” Arthur turns away, beginning to rifle through the stacks of unfilled papers.
“If I let you clean this all up and even help a little, then perhaps…”
“I plan to be out of here long before then,” Arthur informs him with a raised eyebrow, standing on his tiptoes to reach an old Moleskine on the top shelf. “But we’ll see.”
“How do you think we’re going to do that? Shall we devise a plan for escape?”
“That can be your problem.”
“I’m never specific enough for you, dear.”
“And I have no imagination - ”
“I suppose that’s why we get along so splendidly.”
Arthur turns and glares, and they stand there for a moment, gazes locked on one another. Arthur breaks the tension by looking down and deftly buttoning his suit jacket.
“We’re standing under a damn air conditioning vent, Eames,” he says to Eames’ questioning look. “Excuse me while I try to have all the warmth I could possibly get.”
Eames puts a hand on his arm. “There’s always body heat.” He glances at Arthur. “Oh, seriously, if looks could kill - ” he breaks off, feeling Arthur’s fingers. “You’re like icicles, pet. I’ll murder Cobb if you end up going to hospital.”
“Fine,” Arthur grumbles, allowing Eames to step closer and untuck Arthur’s dress shirt, putting warm hands on Arthur’s back. Arthur relaxes into Eames’ touch, shuddering pleasantly, and rests his forehead on Eames’ shoulder. Eames begins to run his thumbs up and down Arthur’s spine as if he’s mapping every last inch of skin, doing the kind of careful research Arthur would do, slow and certain and tender. Arthur moans a little, quiet, and presses his face into Eames’ neck.
“See, isn’t that better?” Eames murmurs.
Arthur makes some indistinct sound of assent and melts further into Eames, raising his head slightly, and this is a moment of closeness Eames will remember for eternity. He leans down, almost on instinct, and captures Arthur’s lips with his own, wet and warm and reassuring.
“Eames - ” Arthur says, jolting back to reality.
“Yes?”
“I told you, we are not snogging You took advantage of me!”
“Ah, you see, darling, I’m a con man.” Arthur grimaces at that. “And are you not considerably more comfortable?” he inquires, moving his index finger to trace over Arthur’s hipbone.
Arthur sighs and kisses Eames’ jaw lightly. “I should have never gotten involved with you.”
“Oh, you love it.”
Arthur gives him a look. “I mean, I suppose if we’re going to be in here much longer…”
Eames laughs and kisses him on the nose. “I knew you’d come around.”
Character/Pairings: Arthur/Eames, Cobb
Rating: PG-13 ish?
Disclaimer: If I owned Inception, I'd be able to understand it. Clearly that is not the case.
Warning: Overuse of italics, perhaps.
Summary: In which Arthur and Eames are locked in a broom closet, Eames wants to make out, and Arthur wants to organize.
Author's Notes: Written for the prompt "trapped in a closet" over at inceptionkink.
“Cobb is laughing at us.”
“Arthur - ”
“I guarantee you, Cobb is out there, laughing at us. Right now. And it’s all your fault.”
“Darling, my fault how, precisely.”
Arthur sighs and dusts off his suit jacket. “You annoyed him somehow - ”
“Would I really?” Eames says, grabbing Arthur’s hand and kissing his fingers.
Arthur wrenches his hand away. “Yes. Yes, you would. I think he saw us yesterday.”
“Well, unless I’m much mistaken, you were a rather willing participant in that activity.”
Arthur sighs. “Regardless, I believe he has locked us in a broom closet because he thinks it’s funny.”
“Arthur, you wanted to tidy up this place a bit anyway.”
“Yes, and you followed me in because you thought we could - make out in it, and then the door swung shut.”
Eames gives Arthur a very Arthur-like look. “It’s called snogging in a broom closet. It’s romantic.”
“It’s dusty,” Arthur says, looking around.
Eames smirks. “You prefer a bed of roses, darling?”
“To this? Yes.”
“But - ”
“Eames, as much as I enjoy doing certain things with you - and believe me, I really, really do - this is a place that needs to be organized, not - ”
“Fucked in?”
“Exactly.” Arthur turns away, beginning to rifle through the stacks of unfilled papers.
“If I let you clean this all up and even help a little, then perhaps…”
“I plan to be out of here long before then,” Arthur informs him with a raised eyebrow, standing on his tiptoes to reach an old Moleskine on the top shelf. “But we’ll see.”
“How do you think we’re going to do that? Shall we devise a plan for escape?”
“That can be your problem.”
“I’m never specific enough for you, dear.”
“And I have no imagination - ”
“I suppose that’s why we get along so splendidly.”
Arthur turns and glares, and they stand there for a moment, gazes locked on one another. Arthur breaks the tension by looking down and deftly buttoning his suit jacket.
“We’re standing under a damn air conditioning vent, Eames,” he says to Eames’ questioning look. “Excuse me while I try to have all the warmth I could possibly get.”
Eames puts a hand on his arm. “There’s always body heat.” He glances at Arthur. “Oh, seriously, if looks could kill - ” he breaks off, feeling Arthur’s fingers. “You’re like icicles, pet. I’ll murder Cobb if you end up going to hospital.”
“Fine,” Arthur grumbles, allowing Eames to step closer and untuck Arthur’s dress shirt, putting warm hands on Arthur’s back. Arthur relaxes into Eames’ touch, shuddering pleasantly, and rests his forehead on Eames’ shoulder. Eames begins to run his thumbs up and down Arthur’s spine as if he’s mapping every last inch of skin, doing the kind of careful research Arthur would do, slow and certain and tender. Arthur moans a little, quiet, and presses his face into Eames’ neck.
“See, isn’t that better?” Eames murmurs.
Arthur makes some indistinct sound of assent and melts further into Eames, raising his head slightly, and this is a moment of closeness Eames will remember for eternity. He leans down, almost on instinct, and captures Arthur’s lips with his own, wet and warm and reassuring.
“Eames - ” Arthur says, jolting back to reality.
“Yes?”
“I told you, we are not snogging You took advantage of me!”
“Ah, you see, darling, I’m a con man.” Arthur grimaces at that. “And are you not considerably more comfortable?” he inquires, moving his index finger to trace over Arthur’s hipbone.
Arthur sighs and kisses Eames’ jaw lightly. “I should have never gotten involved with you.”
“Oh, you love it.”
Arthur gives him a look. “I mean, I suppose if we’re going to be in here much longer…”
Eames laughs and kisses him on the nose. “I knew you’d come around.”