Inception/Mysterious Skin - Every Me and Every You (6/30)
Title: Every Me and Every You (6/30)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 2, 809
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
Neil left the Winchester building and hopped onto the subway. The idiot hadn't even realized that he had been robbed.
No one seemed to give him a second look in his suit and tie while he stood, holding onto one of the poles. Normally he'd get at least one halfway disgusted look from someone, but apparently he just right blended in with the other business yokels riding the train. It made him feel a weird combination of proud and grossed out.
He went a few stops over from the one near Eames's hotel and then walked the rest of the way, still looking a bit weird he imagined, with his leather coat over his suit jacket, but he removed the coat when he got into the lobby, wandering by the front desk without so much as a glance and into the elevator.
While he was riding up, he looked through the man's black book, finding various numbers that he recognized from being a twink on the underground gay scene. He raised an eyebrow as he noted the marks of asterisks next to ones George apparently found very satisfying, a list of names scribbled underneath certain places. The first name in the book however was this Cameron fellow. Cameron apparently helped set George up with these people.
Really, the book only helped confirm everything Neil thought, so he was happy to step off of the elevator and go straight to Eames's room. He did have the forethought to knock this time instead of breaking in.
When the door opened, Neil was a little bowled over to see a woman standing there. Her hair was cut short and bright red, and she looked at him warily, as if expecting him to pull a gun on her immediately. A quick glance over her shoulder and Neil could see a couple of other people too, including a dark-skinned, bald headed man looking through some files and a Middle Eastern man holding a vile of some chemical up to the light. He was muttering something to Eames, so that meant he was still in the right place. Neil also noticed Ms. Red Hair had a pistol in her hand.
Eames looked up when he noticed the door open and seemed about to say something when he saw Neil and fell silent.
"Hi," Neil offered, not sure what else to say.
"What are you doing here?" Eames asked, and Ms. Red Hair stepped back, giving Eames a look.
"You know this guy?" she asked. "What the hell, Eames? We're working."
"I know, Sophie-just give me a moment."
Eames stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. "Christ, I didn't even recognize you," he said, looking Neil up and down momentarily before frowning. "Why are you here?"
Neil lifted the little black book and placed it in Eames's hand before digging out the wallet and placing it in his other hand. "Thought this information could help you out. I told you I could do it."
Eames's gaze flattened. "You pilfered a wallet and a date book. How is this supposed to be at all helpful?"
"It's George Winchester Jr.'s wallet and date book. Oh, and he didn't poison his father. The secret he's keeping is from his fiancée. I'd look into his buddy Cameron though."
"Secret?" Eames said.
Neil nodded. "I was in his office. His father's picture is still sitting on his desk, but he turned down the picture of that lady you've been forging. Look in the book. He's gay."
Eames perused the names and numbers in the book, Neil occasionally piping up to offer that such-and-such was a gay bar that he'd hustled at or that this-or-that was a call service or that he knew Ian or Harry or Juan from his hustling days.
"The cherry on top is that he thought I was a prostitute hired for him when I showed up unexpectedly," Neil said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "All dressed to the nines and still look like a hooker. I guess it's my face or something."
Eames leveled him with his gaze. "You actually went into his office then?"
"I didn't really see another way to get the stuff you guys wanted, considering I can't afford the expensive shit you guys use for surveillance or whatever. It's not like he can trace me back to anyone. He didn't even know my name, and even if he figured it out, no one knows I know you except you."
And Wendy, but Wendy doesn't know Eames's name, he thought.
"He thought Cameron sent me up," Neil said. "I don't know who Cameron is, but he seems real important to George… and for the record this George guy doesn't seem like he even has the balls to do something like poison his dad. He's pretty boring and unremarkable. I doubt he'd even be able to be in the running for that company if it weren't for his last name. I honestly don't think he even wants it, but maybe this Cameron guy does."
Eames exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "This does change things."
Neil grinned, running his tongue along the top row of his own teeth before saying, "Does this mean you have to blow me now?"
The teasing statement brought up the sour tasting memory of George Winchester's cock on his tongue, but he didn't let it show on his face.
Eames rolled his eyes, but he did smile at the end of it. "This is some good stuff, Neil. Thanks… but please tell me you weren't stupid enough to come straight here?"
Neil pulled a face. "I do something smart, so you automatically think I'm stupid? I think you're stupid. No, I took the subway a few extra stops down and then walked here. No one was following me. Trust me, I would know if someone was."
He'd been looking over his shoulder every day since Brighton Beach, after all… but that thought made the gross taste in his mouth grow a little stronger, so he decided to let it lie.
Eames didn't look very satisfied in any sense, mumbling, "That's all you did then… mm…" He looked around and seemed to confirm that no one had followed Neil up and then sighed, looking satisfied. Neil just spent that time staring at Eames's mouth, remembering the kiss and remembering how he'd thought about it while sucking off George Winchester.
"Seriously though," Neil said softly. "Does this mean I can become a dreamer like you?... Come on, Eames… I haven't got anything going for me right now… I just… it'd be nice to have somewhat of a future to look forward to for once…"
It was oddly vulnerable of him to say, and he mentally chastised himself for it. Vulnerability had never served him well in the past, and he doubted it was going to now.
"Look… Neil," Eames said, sighing. "I do think you've got a talent for this, honest… but… it's just not as simple as all that. I don't have the power to just nod my head or twitch my nose and give you a position in this world. You can see that, can't you? You put on this suit, but the people there didn't see you as a business man. It's not as easy as playing the part."
Neil set his jaw, feeling like he was being scolded like a child after all of the good work he'd done. He wasn't really sure why it hurt so much though.
"You have to earn your place in this business," Eames continued, and his voice was so calm and placating that it made Neil want to scream. "It takes time and a lot of practice. You said so yourself you can't afford the types of surveillance we use, and here's the thing. If you could afford it, that doesn't mean you'd know how to use it, understand? I can't just take you under my wing and consider you a part of this team. There's a lot more work involved than that. It's childish, frankly, to believe otherwise."
Neil sneered, taking a deep breath through his nose, and then he shoved a finger into Eames's face. "Look, you son of a bitch. I got the information on this guy that will blow this job wide open and probably saved your ass from failing miserably when he wouldn't tell his secrets to you. I got that information, and I did it in two days without the use of your fucking surveillance and I did it for fucking free, so the least you can do is not patronize me like you're so much better than I am, you got that? I might not have been all over the world or inside the heads of every businessman who could afford to get their thoughts robbed, but I'm not a fucking idiot. I know how the world goddamn works, and I bet I've seen things that you haven't, so don't tell me what I can and can't do or I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll need a dentist to get it out."
Eames was silent for a moment, staring into Neil's eyes, and Neil realized then that he had crowded Eames up against the wall and they were inches apart and sharing the same air.
"I never meant to-" Eames started to say.
"Get my hopes up?" Neil interrupted. "You're a real bastard, Eames. I did a better job than the guy getting paid to do this, and you're leaving me out on the fucking curb. Why? Why won't you give me one goddamn chance? I've shown you what I can do, and you still treat me like a fucking… You're not that much older than me, you know. Just because you went into the army and ran away with your fucking tail between your legs doesn't mean you're better suited to this than I am."
"Neil-"
"No," Neil interrupted again, shoving Eames. "No, we're done. You can't pretend you haven't been stringing me along like your little puppet. You can go fuck yourself."
He pushed Eames again as he stepped away from him and started back towards the elevator. "Good luck on your fucking job. Consider yourself lucky I'm not going back to George and telling him what you're up to."
Just as the doors of the elevator were closing, Neil found them being shoved back open, and Eames was glaring at him, rosy faced with rage or embarrassment or some combination of both. Neil just stared back at him uncaringly, finger lingering on the door close button. "You want to know the real reason why I just turned you down?" Eames asked, voice cutting and raw.
Neil raised his eyebrows in challenge, as if to say enlighten me.
Eames climbed into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind him. "I turned you down because there's nothing wrong with the batch of somnacin we used to go into your dreams."
Neil didn't quite understand.
"All of that crazy shite that happened in your head was all on you. Do you really expect me to let someone with that fucked up of a subconscious work in this business? If you even have to think about that answer then you're stupider than I thought. Listen to me, Neil, and listen well, all right? You're a talented kid, and I admire how quickly you're able to pick up on things, but there's no way you're going to be of any use to anyone with your subconscious in the state that it's in, so if you want to be a part of this business it is still possible, but you're going to have to do some clean up on the inside first or at least entrust me with why it's in that state so I can help you."
Neil was breathing a little shakily by the end of Eames's spiel, standing in the corner and feeling six inches tall under Eames's gaze. He didn't let his face show fear though because that would be relinquishing the little bit of control Neil still had over the situation, and he couldn't let that happen. Not again. Not ever.
"Neil," Eames said, voice a little gentler, "just talk to me."
"Why should I?" Neil asked. "I barely know you. You're not the only person in the world that I have…" He was caged in by Eames though, and at that moment it sure felt like it was just the two of them. "How am I supposed to trust you with any of my secrets when no one else can? I thought I wasn't supposed to trust you any…way…"
Eames's hand was in Neil's hair again, causing some of the stiff, gelled strands to crunch a little and fall back onto his forehead in tufts, and the air around Neil suddenly seemed very, very warm, and he was caught in that familiar feeling that he got just before he was about to be kissed, and when he squeezed his eyes shut he could hear Coach whispering, "Shh… angel…"
The ping of the elevator signaling the opening of the doors was nearly deafening, and Neil nearly gasped as the air around him was freed when Eames quickly stepped away. Eames's face was still rosy, but the anger was gone, and Neil thought the man must have forgotten where they were.
They stepped off in the lobby as a woman and her child got on. Neil looked back at the little boy and his large glasses, and for a bizarre second wanted to cry.
Eames stepped up close to Neil's shoulder, grabbing him gently by the arm and pulling him aside. "Look, Neil, I… I'm sorry, okay? I didn't… I didn't mean to come off as such a prat."
Neil looked at his feet and nodded, mumbling, "It's… it's okay… whatever…"
"It's just that… well, now's not a good time for me to talk about it, but… perhaps we could meet up later? I… I do want to give you a chance, Neil. I do. I think we got off on the wrong foot, yeah?"
Neil ventured a glance at him, not sure why he felt so shy, and said, "Fine… I've got work tonight though, so uh… you can just… I don't know, you can come to my apartment, I guess. I don't know if Wendy will be there or not, but uh… I get off work at like… nine, so…"
Eames nodded. "Okay, well, what's the address then?
Neil told him and then slipped back into his coat, wandering back out onto the street and leaving Eames in the lobby. For a long few seconds he just stood there on the street, watching the cars push by slowly in traffic, almost as if waiting for Eames to come after him. When he didn't, Neil turned and started walking.
He walked back towards his and Wendy's apartment, needing some air before he got onto the subway, and he pressed his fingertips to his lips as if to satisfy the unfinished feeling there. He wondered what would have happened if that woman and little boy hadn't gotten onto the elevator… well, he figured the doors would have opened anyway, but…
Neil shook his head, digging out a cigarette to put in place of his fingers. He was pretty sure his association with Eames was making him lose his mind, but like an addict looking for a fix, he couldn't quite stop himself from coming back again and again in the hopes of getting what he wanted (even though at this point he wasn't exactly entirely sure what that was anymore other than notoriety and lots of money).
He sat silently on the subway when he got on a few blocks later, and he wondered just how much he would have to reveal to be able to do this dreaming thing. If there was one thing he didn't like about this work it was that secret-stealers couldn't afford to have secrets…
…and yet he was still thinking about it because there just wasn't anything quite like building dreams, creating entire worlds strictly for oneself and letting the buildings stretch as high into the heavens as one desired.
There also wasn't anything quite like Eames in Neil's life, at least not so far… and perhaps it was worth the challenge to see how much he could hide from Eames in the long run. It was the same game from the dream, just happening in reality. He wasn't about to let Eames fool him into giving away that precious information. Instead he would build up his defenses inside until they were a forced to be reckoned with.
That had to be safer than the truth after all because Neil McCormick had been running from it for years.
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 2, 809
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
Neil left the Winchester building and hopped onto the subway. The idiot hadn't even realized that he had been robbed.
No one seemed to give him a second look in his suit and tie while he stood, holding onto one of the poles. Normally he'd get at least one halfway disgusted look from someone, but apparently he just right blended in with the other business yokels riding the train. It made him feel a weird combination of proud and grossed out.
He went a few stops over from the one near Eames's hotel and then walked the rest of the way, still looking a bit weird he imagined, with his leather coat over his suit jacket, but he removed the coat when he got into the lobby, wandering by the front desk without so much as a glance and into the elevator.
While he was riding up, he looked through the man's black book, finding various numbers that he recognized from being a twink on the underground gay scene. He raised an eyebrow as he noted the marks of asterisks next to ones George apparently found very satisfying, a list of names scribbled underneath certain places. The first name in the book however was this Cameron fellow. Cameron apparently helped set George up with these people.
Really, the book only helped confirm everything Neil thought, so he was happy to step off of the elevator and go straight to Eames's room. He did have the forethought to knock this time instead of breaking in.
When the door opened, Neil was a little bowled over to see a woman standing there. Her hair was cut short and bright red, and she looked at him warily, as if expecting him to pull a gun on her immediately. A quick glance over her shoulder and Neil could see a couple of other people too, including a dark-skinned, bald headed man looking through some files and a Middle Eastern man holding a vile of some chemical up to the light. He was muttering something to Eames, so that meant he was still in the right place. Neil also noticed Ms. Red Hair had a pistol in her hand.
Eames looked up when he noticed the door open and seemed about to say something when he saw Neil and fell silent.
"Hi," Neil offered, not sure what else to say.
"What are you doing here?" Eames asked, and Ms. Red Hair stepped back, giving Eames a look.
"You know this guy?" she asked. "What the hell, Eames? We're working."
"I know, Sophie-just give me a moment."
Eames stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. "Christ, I didn't even recognize you," he said, looking Neil up and down momentarily before frowning. "Why are you here?"
Neil lifted the little black book and placed it in Eames's hand before digging out the wallet and placing it in his other hand. "Thought this information could help you out. I told you I could do it."
Eames's gaze flattened. "You pilfered a wallet and a date book. How is this supposed to be at all helpful?"
"It's George Winchester Jr.'s wallet and date book. Oh, and he didn't poison his father. The secret he's keeping is from his fiancée. I'd look into his buddy Cameron though."
"Secret?" Eames said.
Neil nodded. "I was in his office. His father's picture is still sitting on his desk, but he turned down the picture of that lady you've been forging. Look in the book. He's gay."
Eames perused the names and numbers in the book, Neil occasionally piping up to offer that such-and-such was a gay bar that he'd hustled at or that this-or-that was a call service or that he knew Ian or Harry or Juan from his hustling days.
"The cherry on top is that he thought I was a prostitute hired for him when I showed up unexpectedly," Neil said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "All dressed to the nines and still look like a hooker. I guess it's my face or something."
Eames leveled him with his gaze. "You actually went into his office then?"
"I didn't really see another way to get the stuff you guys wanted, considering I can't afford the expensive shit you guys use for surveillance or whatever. It's not like he can trace me back to anyone. He didn't even know my name, and even if he figured it out, no one knows I know you except you."
And Wendy, but Wendy doesn't know Eames's name, he thought.
"He thought Cameron sent me up," Neil said. "I don't know who Cameron is, but he seems real important to George… and for the record this George guy doesn't seem like he even has the balls to do something like poison his dad. He's pretty boring and unremarkable. I doubt he'd even be able to be in the running for that company if it weren't for his last name. I honestly don't think he even wants it, but maybe this Cameron guy does."
Eames exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "This does change things."
Neil grinned, running his tongue along the top row of his own teeth before saying, "Does this mean you have to blow me now?"
The teasing statement brought up the sour tasting memory of George Winchester's cock on his tongue, but he didn't let it show on his face.
Eames rolled his eyes, but he did smile at the end of it. "This is some good stuff, Neil. Thanks… but please tell me you weren't stupid enough to come straight here?"
Neil pulled a face. "I do something smart, so you automatically think I'm stupid? I think you're stupid. No, I took the subway a few extra stops down and then walked here. No one was following me. Trust me, I would know if someone was."
He'd been looking over his shoulder every day since Brighton Beach, after all… but that thought made the gross taste in his mouth grow a little stronger, so he decided to let it lie.
Eames didn't look very satisfied in any sense, mumbling, "That's all you did then… mm…" He looked around and seemed to confirm that no one had followed Neil up and then sighed, looking satisfied. Neil just spent that time staring at Eames's mouth, remembering the kiss and remembering how he'd thought about it while sucking off George Winchester.
"Seriously though," Neil said softly. "Does this mean I can become a dreamer like you?... Come on, Eames… I haven't got anything going for me right now… I just… it'd be nice to have somewhat of a future to look forward to for once…"
It was oddly vulnerable of him to say, and he mentally chastised himself for it. Vulnerability had never served him well in the past, and he doubted it was going to now.
"Look… Neil," Eames said, sighing. "I do think you've got a talent for this, honest… but… it's just not as simple as all that. I don't have the power to just nod my head or twitch my nose and give you a position in this world. You can see that, can't you? You put on this suit, but the people there didn't see you as a business man. It's not as easy as playing the part."
Neil set his jaw, feeling like he was being scolded like a child after all of the good work he'd done. He wasn't really sure why it hurt so much though.
"You have to earn your place in this business," Eames continued, and his voice was so calm and placating that it made Neil want to scream. "It takes time and a lot of practice. You said so yourself you can't afford the types of surveillance we use, and here's the thing. If you could afford it, that doesn't mean you'd know how to use it, understand? I can't just take you under my wing and consider you a part of this team. There's a lot more work involved than that. It's childish, frankly, to believe otherwise."
Neil sneered, taking a deep breath through his nose, and then he shoved a finger into Eames's face. "Look, you son of a bitch. I got the information on this guy that will blow this job wide open and probably saved your ass from failing miserably when he wouldn't tell his secrets to you. I got that information, and I did it in two days without the use of your fucking surveillance and I did it for fucking free, so the least you can do is not patronize me like you're so much better than I am, you got that? I might not have been all over the world or inside the heads of every businessman who could afford to get their thoughts robbed, but I'm not a fucking idiot. I know how the world goddamn works, and I bet I've seen things that you haven't, so don't tell me what I can and can't do or I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll need a dentist to get it out."
Eames was silent for a moment, staring into Neil's eyes, and Neil realized then that he had crowded Eames up against the wall and they were inches apart and sharing the same air.
"I never meant to-" Eames started to say.
"Get my hopes up?" Neil interrupted. "You're a real bastard, Eames. I did a better job than the guy getting paid to do this, and you're leaving me out on the fucking curb. Why? Why won't you give me one goddamn chance? I've shown you what I can do, and you still treat me like a fucking… You're not that much older than me, you know. Just because you went into the army and ran away with your fucking tail between your legs doesn't mean you're better suited to this than I am."
"Neil-"
"No," Neil interrupted again, shoving Eames. "No, we're done. You can't pretend you haven't been stringing me along like your little puppet. You can go fuck yourself."
He pushed Eames again as he stepped away from him and started back towards the elevator. "Good luck on your fucking job. Consider yourself lucky I'm not going back to George and telling him what you're up to."
Just as the doors of the elevator were closing, Neil found them being shoved back open, and Eames was glaring at him, rosy faced with rage or embarrassment or some combination of both. Neil just stared back at him uncaringly, finger lingering on the door close button. "You want to know the real reason why I just turned you down?" Eames asked, voice cutting and raw.
Neil raised his eyebrows in challenge, as if to say enlighten me.
Eames climbed into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind him. "I turned you down because there's nothing wrong with the batch of somnacin we used to go into your dreams."
Neil didn't quite understand.
"All of that crazy shite that happened in your head was all on you. Do you really expect me to let someone with that fucked up of a subconscious work in this business? If you even have to think about that answer then you're stupider than I thought. Listen to me, Neil, and listen well, all right? You're a talented kid, and I admire how quickly you're able to pick up on things, but there's no way you're going to be of any use to anyone with your subconscious in the state that it's in, so if you want to be a part of this business it is still possible, but you're going to have to do some clean up on the inside first or at least entrust me with why it's in that state so I can help you."
Neil was breathing a little shakily by the end of Eames's spiel, standing in the corner and feeling six inches tall under Eames's gaze. He didn't let his face show fear though because that would be relinquishing the little bit of control Neil still had over the situation, and he couldn't let that happen. Not again. Not ever.
"Neil," Eames said, voice a little gentler, "just talk to me."
"Why should I?" Neil asked. "I barely know you. You're not the only person in the world that I have…" He was caged in by Eames though, and at that moment it sure felt like it was just the two of them. "How am I supposed to trust you with any of my secrets when no one else can? I thought I wasn't supposed to trust you any…way…"
Eames's hand was in Neil's hair again, causing some of the stiff, gelled strands to crunch a little and fall back onto his forehead in tufts, and the air around Neil suddenly seemed very, very warm, and he was caught in that familiar feeling that he got just before he was about to be kissed, and when he squeezed his eyes shut he could hear Coach whispering, "Shh… angel…"
The ping of the elevator signaling the opening of the doors was nearly deafening, and Neil nearly gasped as the air around him was freed when Eames quickly stepped away. Eames's face was still rosy, but the anger was gone, and Neil thought the man must have forgotten where they were.
They stepped off in the lobby as a woman and her child got on. Neil looked back at the little boy and his large glasses, and for a bizarre second wanted to cry.
Eames stepped up close to Neil's shoulder, grabbing him gently by the arm and pulling him aside. "Look, Neil, I… I'm sorry, okay? I didn't… I didn't mean to come off as such a prat."
Neil looked at his feet and nodded, mumbling, "It's… it's okay… whatever…"
"It's just that… well, now's not a good time for me to talk about it, but… perhaps we could meet up later? I… I do want to give you a chance, Neil. I do. I think we got off on the wrong foot, yeah?"
Neil ventured a glance at him, not sure why he felt so shy, and said, "Fine… I've got work tonight though, so uh… you can just… I don't know, you can come to my apartment, I guess. I don't know if Wendy will be there or not, but uh… I get off work at like… nine, so…"
Eames nodded. "Okay, well, what's the address then?
Neil told him and then slipped back into his coat, wandering back out onto the street and leaving Eames in the lobby. For a long few seconds he just stood there on the street, watching the cars push by slowly in traffic, almost as if waiting for Eames to come after him. When he didn't, Neil turned and started walking.
He walked back towards his and Wendy's apartment, needing some air before he got onto the subway, and he pressed his fingertips to his lips as if to satisfy the unfinished feeling there. He wondered what would have happened if that woman and little boy hadn't gotten onto the elevator… well, he figured the doors would have opened anyway, but…
Neil shook his head, digging out a cigarette to put in place of his fingers. He was pretty sure his association with Eames was making him lose his mind, but like an addict looking for a fix, he couldn't quite stop himself from coming back again and again in the hopes of getting what he wanted (even though at this point he wasn't exactly entirely sure what that was anymore other than notoriety and lots of money).
He sat silently on the subway when he got on a few blocks later, and he wondered just how much he would have to reveal to be able to do this dreaming thing. If there was one thing he didn't like about this work it was that secret-stealers couldn't afford to have secrets…
…and yet he was still thinking about it because there just wasn't anything quite like building dreams, creating entire worlds strictly for oneself and letting the buildings stretch as high into the heavens as one desired.
There also wasn't anything quite like Eames in Neil's life, at least not so far… and perhaps it was worth the challenge to see how much he could hide from Eames in the long run. It was the same game from the dream, just happening in reality. He wasn't about to let Eames fool him into giving away that precious information. Instead he would build up his defenses inside until they were a forced to be reckoned with.
That had to be safer than the truth after all because Neil McCormick had been running from it for years.