IC_ Precious Illusions
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: Dreams are nice. Dreams are complete. Dreams are perfect. And Eames doesn’t want to leave these dreams anymore.
AN: All details of Lewes are from my memories 8 years ago. Soooo~ it’s probably not so accurate as it should be. My mind is a colander .__.
„Where do you took me this time?“
“Lewes. A small town near Brighton.”
Eames likes to bring Arthur to England. Showing him things of a country he sadly never was except for some jobs, gives him a good feeling. Arthur would fit in so perfectly! Born American but Brit by heart or something like that.
Most people wouldn’t notice any change in Arthur’s expression, but Eames does. He sees this little hint of a smile and the way the dark eyes wanders around the market places they are standing at.
“It’s very traditional.” He finally says and the smile becomes a bit brighter. “I like it. Is this your hometown?”
It’s not the first time Arthur ask this question. But every time it’s the same answer.
“No.” Eames shows him many towns in England and other places around the world Eames were and liked very much. But never his hometown. Everywhere but there. It’s not like it’s too special or contrariwise too battered. It’s just … He wants to show him his birthplace in real. Not in some dream they share, but in the real outside world. Wants to walk with him on real streets, feel the real wind and lead him to his real house with his real parents. Well, his Dad ‘cause his Mum passes away some years ago.
Arthur doesn’t know anything about this and Eames doesn’t want to tell him. So he just keeps asking.
“But my grandparents lived here. I visited them often as a child.”
Arthur nods, gives the market place a second around look.
“Shall we?”
Eames answer is a simple warm smile before he starts to walk to the right direction.
Some people pass by. Not just habitants but tourists too. You can recognize them with their little digital cameras in their hands and the way they just don’t stop taking pictures of anything and everyone. Eames assumes that this is a scenario his subconsciousness has added because he remembers the tourists from back then far too well.
Then he didn’t understand why people would like to come to Lewes just to look at all the old houses and take photos. Today he shows them off himself and is somewhat proud to be able to show Arthurs such a lovely place.
The old cobblestone street leisurely leads them up.
They pass some bakers, second-hand bookstores, costumes rentals with Victorian clothes, antique shops, cafes. Eames tells Arthur from time to time stories about this or that house or store. Experiences from his childhood or some funny rumors his grandparents have told him about the people and places in Lewes.
Though Arthur often prefers to stay quiet when it’s just the two of them, it’s mostly Eames who’s talking. Maybe it’s just random nonsense but Eames always has the feeling that Arthur likes it. Or he just likes how Eames makes an idiot of himself, but that’s okay as long as he can see that sweet smile and the tenderly look of brown eyes.
The longer they’re separated from each other the more he misses that.
Not until they cross the little white bridge with all those couples who always standing there and looking at the pond with his swans and ducks and fishes, Eames dares to grab Arthur’s hand.
He doesn’t protest. He never does.
Eames doesn’t know how it would be in the real world, but in here nobodies looking at them twice. It’s the ideal privacy in a ‘public’ place. Not once his subconscious has tried to attack Arthur or his Eames. It’s like perfect sharing. They’re no longer two different individuals, they’re one whole. In some ways it’s more intimate than sex ever can be and a better proof of their union, their love, than words may ever express.
Although they’re in a dream it feels so incredibly warm. Secure.
Eames never would have thought that he could long so much for so little things. And crave after a person who’s so different from him.
But he never sensed it as wrong. Ever.
The first time Arthur smiled at him, really smiled, was the moment he completely felt for him. And instead of diminishing, his love increases with every day.
Hm, funny- he never was such a hilarious, almost obsessed romantic till…
“Can we visit the castle?” Arthur gestures with his free left hand to the little hill in front of them with the Lewes castle enthroned right on top of it.
He likes this whole historical stuff. Another reason why Eames chose Lewes for this date.
“That was my plan darling.” He grins one of his typical grins and Arthur smiles back cheekily. One of the many expression Eames never can resist. He bends down a little and steels a quick kiss from the pointer. His smirk gets even wider when Arthur gives him the ‘I so knew you would do that!’-look. He loves it. “Keep that look on your face and one day I’ll eat you!”
Playful Arthur wrinkles his nose.
“Gross.”
“Nah, just yammi!” Eames laughs when the pointer hits him lightly with his shoulder, while they keep on walking the gravel walk up to the castle.
They almost reached the entrance when the soft tones of “Je ne regretted rien” begin to hum in Eames head. He sighs in deep frustration. He doesn’t want to go again. It’s always the same. Always when he feels comfortable and in peace. No, more than just in peace- he feels complete.
Like always Arthur senses his sudden mood change. Unexpectedly his grip tightens appreciable around his left hand. Like a child who’s afraid of losing his parent in a big crowd. But in the next moment he lets go of him completely and just smiles politely.
Eames hates when he does this.
“Time really runs. Even in here.”
“Yeah, unfortunately.” Damn, sometimes his job really sucks. In general they’ve more time for each other in here. But today Cobb has set the time to just around 10 Minutes which are around two hours dreaming. It’s their lunch break.
“Maybe-… We could go a level deeper. It would give us more time!” Eames begins with the hint of hope, though he already knew it heads to nothing. He just never gives up trying.
If he would, he wouldn’t be here any longer.
“Eames.” Why does he have to sound so bloody confident, even in situation like this? Sometimes he wants to scream when Arthur speaks like this. Yet this outcry never leaves his mouth ‘cause Arthur always wraps bad news into a soft loving kiss.
He knows that technical he can’t taste the pointer but Eames have enough memories of Arthur that he can recreate his whole fantastic intoxicating flavor.
They don’t really part from each other. Their foreheads leaning against one another, while they listening to the always same French song. Sometimes Eames hums with it, sometimes he feels like crying. Now he’s just tired and sad.
“Yeah, I know I know- Reality is calling.” Fuck Reality. He knows far too well that they can’t stay here forever. In their dreams. Together. Without the crushing impossibility of the real world.
“Can we visit the castle next time?”
“Sure.”
Eames closes his eyes defeated when he sees the sweet smile of Arthur and opens them when he hears Cobbs excusing voice.
“Time’s up, sorry. But we’ve to work.”
“No prob. It was nice anyway.”
He fights himself to smile casually while he simply shrugs his perpetual sorrow off.
His eyes wander automatically to the pointer who lies still in the clean white bed besides his chair. He removes the needles from their arms and caresses the pale warm hand like he always does after their dates. But it just didn’t react anymore. Not here. Not in the outside world.
The constant beeping is his favorite and most hated song at the same time.
One day he knew Arthur will wake up with him together again and they’ll find a new song they can dream to.
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: Dreams are nice. Dreams are complete. Dreams are perfect. And Eames doesn’t want to leave these dreams anymore.
AN: All details of Lewes are from my memories 8 years ago. Soooo~ it’s probably not so accurate as it should be. My mind is a colander .__.
„Where do you took me this time?“
“Lewes. A small town near Brighton.”
Eames likes to bring Arthur to England. Showing him things of a country he sadly never was except for some jobs, gives him a good feeling. Arthur would fit in so perfectly! Born American but Brit by heart or something like that.
Most people wouldn’t notice any change in Arthur’s expression, but Eames does. He sees this little hint of a smile and the way the dark eyes wanders around the market places they are standing at.
“It’s very traditional.” He finally says and the smile becomes a bit brighter. “I like it. Is this your hometown?”
It’s not the first time Arthur ask this question. But every time it’s the same answer.
“No.” Eames shows him many towns in England and other places around the world Eames were and liked very much. But never his hometown. Everywhere but there. It’s not like it’s too special or contrariwise too battered. It’s just … He wants to show him his birthplace in real. Not in some dream they share, but in the real outside world. Wants to walk with him on real streets, feel the real wind and lead him to his real house with his real parents. Well, his Dad ‘cause his Mum passes away some years ago.
Arthur doesn’t know anything about this and Eames doesn’t want to tell him. So he just keeps asking.
“But my grandparents lived here. I visited them often as a child.”
Arthur nods, gives the market place a second around look.
“Shall we?”
Eames answer is a simple warm smile before he starts to walk to the right direction.
Some people pass by. Not just habitants but tourists too. You can recognize them with their little digital cameras in their hands and the way they just don’t stop taking pictures of anything and everyone. Eames assumes that this is a scenario his subconsciousness has added because he remembers the tourists from back then far too well.
Then he didn’t understand why people would like to come to Lewes just to look at all the old houses and take photos. Today he shows them off himself and is somewhat proud to be able to show Arthurs such a lovely place.
The old cobblestone street leisurely leads them up.
They pass some bakers, second-hand bookstores, costumes rentals with Victorian clothes, antique shops, cafes. Eames tells Arthur from time to time stories about this or that house or store. Experiences from his childhood or some funny rumors his grandparents have told him about the people and places in Lewes.
Though Arthur often prefers to stay quiet when it’s just the two of them, it’s mostly Eames who’s talking. Maybe it’s just random nonsense but Eames always has the feeling that Arthur likes it. Or he just likes how Eames makes an idiot of himself, but that’s okay as long as he can see that sweet smile and the tenderly look of brown eyes.
The longer they’re separated from each other the more he misses that.
Not until they cross the little white bridge with all those couples who always standing there and looking at the pond with his swans and ducks and fishes, Eames dares to grab Arthur’s hand.
He doesn’t protest. He never does.
Eames doesn’t know how it would be in the real world, but in here nobodies looking at them twice. It’s the ideal privacy in a ‘public’ place. Not once his subconscious has tried to attack Arthur or his Eames. It’s like perfect sharing. They’re no longer two different individuals, they’re one whole. In some ways it’s more intimate than sex ever can be and a better proof of their union, their love, than words may ever express.
Although they’re in a dream it feels so incredibly warm. Secure.
Eames never would have thought that he could long so much for so little things. And crave after a person who’s so different from him.
But he never sensed it as wrong. Ever.
The first time Arthur smiled at him, really smiled, was the moment he completely felt for him. And instead of diminishing, his love increases with every day.
Hm, funny- he never was such a hilarious, almost obsessed romantic till…
“Can we visit the castle?” Arthur gestures with his free left hand to the little hill in front of them with the Lewes castle enthroned right on top of it.
He likes this whole historical stuff. Another reason why Eames chose Lewes for this date.
“That was my plan darling.” He grins one of his typical grins and Arthur smiles back cheekily. One of the many expression Eames never can resist. He bends down a little and steels a quick kiss from the pointer. His smirk gets even wider when Arthur gives him the ‘I so knew you would do that!’-look. He loves it. “Keep that look on your face and one day I’ll eat you!”
Playful Arthur wrinkles his nose.
“Gross.”
“Nah, just yammi!” Eames laughs when the pointer hits him lightly with his shoulder, while they keep on walking the gravel walk up to the castle.
They almost reached the entrance when the soft tones of “Je ne regretted rien” begin to hum in Eames head. He sighs in deep frustration. He doesn’t want to go again. It’s always the same. Always when he feels comfortable and in peace. No, more than just in peace- he feels complete.
Like always Arthur senses his sudden mood change. Unexpectedly his grip tightens appreciable around his left hand. Like a child who’s afraid of losing his parent in a big crowd. But in the next moment he lets go of him completely and just smiles politely.
Eames hates when he does this.
“Time really runs. Even in here.”
“Yeah, unfortunately.” Damn, sometimes his job really sucks. In general they’ve more time for each other in here. But today Cobb has set the time to just around 10 Minutes which are around two hours dreaming. It’s their lunch break.
“Maybe-… We could go a level deeper. It would give us more time!” Eames begins with the hint of hope, though he already knew it heads to nothing. He just never gives up trying.
If he would, he wouldn’t be here any longer.
“Eames.” Why does he have to sound so bloody confident, even in situation like this? Sometimes he wants to scream when Arthur speaks like this. Yet this outcry never leaves his mouth ‘cause Arthur always wraps bad news into a soft loving kiss.
He knows that technical he can’t taste the pointer but Eames have enough memories of Arthur that he can recreate his whole fantastic intoxicating flavor.
They don’t really part from each other. Their foreheads leaning against one another, while they listening to the always same French song. Sometimes Eames hums with it, sometimes he feels like crying. Now he’s just tired and sad.
“Yeah, I know I know- Reality is calling.” Fuck Reality. He knows far too well that they can’t stay here forever. In their dreams. Together. Without the crushing impossibility of the real world.
“Can we visit the castle next time?”
“Sure.”
Eames closes his eyes defeated when he sees the sweet smile of Arthur and opens them when he hears Cobbs excusing voice.
“Time’s up, sorry. But we’ve to work.”
“No prob. It was nice anyway.”
He fights himself to smile casually while he simply shrugs his perpetual sorrow off.
His eyes wander automatically to the pointer who lies still in the clean white bed besides his chair. He removes the needles from their arms and caresses the pale warm hand like he always does after their dates. But it just didn’t react anymore. Not here. Not in the outside world.
The constant beeping is his favorite and most hated song at the same time.
One day he knew Arthur will wake up with him together again and they’ll find a new song they can dream to.