[fic post] Rounds
Title: Rounds
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst/Humor
Pairings or Characters: Eames/Arthur, implied Arthur/Cobb
Warnings: spoilers, language
Word Count: 510
Summary: There will still be other jobs. But he's never worked with anyone else, and he's not sure he can.
Author Notes: Hi, I can't get this movie out of my head, so I have to keep writing fic, and it's all gay and I'm not sorry.
Rounds
Arthur stares at the cards in his hand. He forgets what game they're playing.
"He's home by now," Eames says.
Arthur takes a guess that they're playing five-card draw and discards a five of diamonds and a jack of clubs. After a pause and a raise of an eyebrow, Eames passes him two fresh cards off the top of the deck.
"With his kids. I wonder how long it's been since he last saw them."
Arthur watches quietly as Eames drops three cards and draws himself three new ones, grimacing briefly in thought as he calculates his new hand.
"He won't be back," Eames adds, tossing four chips into the pot. Arthur matches him, slowly flicking one chip after another into the center of the table. "Full house," Eames grins, laying down three queens and a pair of twos.
Arthur tosses his cards onto the table, face up, and pushes out of his chair.
"Well, fuck me," Eames sighs before realizing Arthur is already walking away, "Aren't you going to collect your prize?"
"Keep it."
But before he can reach the door, Eames catches up and grabs him by the elbow, tugging him to a stop.
"That isn't like you," Eames says quietly.
"What isn't like me?" Arthur grunts, spinning on his heel to glare at Eames.
"The generosity thing. Or the... moping thing. I guess I shouldn't've been rubbing it in, though." He manages to sound a little sheepish, and it spares him a punch in the face. But Arthur stays quiet, frustrated and angry that even Eames can tell he's different.
Without Cobb, there will still be other jobs. But he's never worked with anyone else, and he's not sure he can. Eames will be fine, though. He's never been too attached to one partner or group more than any other. If he wasn't so unbearable, Arthur might even consider working with him again, but he really didn't want to think about that, even as a last resort.
"Now c'mon, play another round. Let me keep you to myself just a bit longer."
Arthur raises an eyebrow before shaking his arm free of Eames' grip, readjusting his sleeves as he strolls back to the small table.
"So how many rounds is that now?"
"Um. Eleven, I think."
"And I've won--"
"Eleven. But if you hadn't changed the game from stud to draw, I would've had you beat that last time," Eames adds with an accusatory finger as he sits across the table.
"We both had crap hands. And you cheat, anyway."
Eames grins, bright and unbridled, and blows him a kiss.
"I wouldn't be a very good forger if I couldn't cheat at cards."
Arthur's pretty sure that neither of those things are dependent on the other, but he says nothing and picks up his cards from the last round. He glances over the 8, 9, 10, jack and queen of spades before tossing them across the table where Eames is collecting the cards to reshuffle.
"Oh, and try to remember, darling, we're playing stud this time."
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst/Humor
Pairings or Characters: Eames/Arthur, implied Arthur/Cobb
Warnings: spoilers, language
Word Count: 510
Summary: There will still be other jobs. But he's never worked with anyone else, and he's not sure he can.
Author Notes: Hi, I can't get this movie out of my head, so I have to keep writing fic, and it's all gay and I'm not sorry.
Rounds
Arthur stares at the cards in his hand. He forgets what game they're playing.
"He's home by now," Eames says.
Arthur takes a guess that they're playing five-card draw and discards a five of diamonds and a jack of clubs. After a pause and a raise of an eyebrow, Eames passes him two fresh cards off the top of the deck.
"With his kids. I wonder how long it's been since he last saw them."
Arthur watches quietly as Eames drops three cards and draws himself three new ones, grimacing briefly in thought as he calculates his new hand.
"He won't be back," Eames adds, tossing four chips into the pot. Arthur matches him, slowly flicking one chip after another into the center of the table. "Full house," Eames grins, laying down three queens and a pair of twos.
Arthur tosses his cards onto the table, face up, and pushes out of his chair.
"Well, fuck me," Eames sighs before realizing Arthur is already walking away, "Aren't you going to collect your prize?"
"Keep it."
But before he can reach the door, Eames catches up and grabs him by the elbow, tugging him to a stop.
"That isn't like you," Eames says quietly.
"What isn't like me?" Arthur grunts, spinning on his heel to glare at Eames.
"The generosity thing. Or the... moping thing. I guess I shouldn't've been rubbing it in, though." He manages to sound a little sheepish, and it spares him a punch in the face. But Arthur stays quiet, frustrated and angry that even Eames can tell he's different.
Without Cobb, there will still be other jobs. But he's never worked with anyone else, and he's not sure he can. Eames will be fine, though. He's never been too attached to one partner or group more than any other. If he wasn't so unbearable, Arthur might even consider working with him again, but he really didn't want to think about that, even as a last resort.
"Now c'mon, play another round. Let me keep you to myself just a bit longer."
Arthur raises an eyebrow before shaking his arm free of Eames' grip, readjusting his sleeves as he strolls back to the small table.
"So how many rounds is that now?"
"Um. Eleven, I think."
"And I've won--"
"Eleven. But if you hadn't changed the game from stud to draw, I would've had you beat that last time," Eames adds with an accusatory finger as he sits across the table.
"We both had crap hands. And you cheat, anyway."
Eames grins, bright and unbridled, and blows him a kiss.
"I wouldn't be a very good forger if I couldn't cheat at cards."
Arthur's pretty sure that neither of those things are dependent on the other, but he says nothing and picks up his cards from the last round. He glances over the 8, 9, 10, jack and queen of spades before tossing them across the table where Eames is collecting the cards to reshuffle.
"Oh, and try to remember, darling, we're playing stud this time."