Brick/Inception: Après Moi, le Deluge
Title: Après Moi, le Deluge (19/24)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Brick/Inception fusion
Word count: 4,495
Pairing: later Brendan(Arthur)xEames, mentions of BrendanxEmily and BrendanxLaura
Rating: R
Warnings: currently violence, language, mentions of character death
Summary: Brendan should have known better than to tug on loose threads. He should have known that one loose thread was all it took to make everything unravel, but he’d been tired and just wanted things to be done. He should have known well enough that things were never done.
Special thanks to wadebramwilson for betaing! <3
NINETEEN
As ridiculous as it was, talking to Eames had made Brendan feel a little less lost. He wasn't completely repaired by any means, but he rested easier. Without his brain being entirely preoccupied, he could focus more on the problem at hand and attempt to come up with some sort of solution.
He hadn't found one yet, but he was trying.
Brainstorm sessions between him and the rest of the group were long and usually a bit fruitless. Russell, Charlie, and Laura were well aware of what John Wells was capable of, and they also had faith that he wouldn't be found easily if he didn't want to be. He also didn't give a damn whose lives he had to sacrifice in order to save his own skin. Brendan was pretty sure most everyone already knew about that part.
"The good thing is," Charlie said as they all sat about in one of the hotel rooms, "and keep in mind that good is not great… but the good thing is that Johnny's attitude about saving himself means that we're probably not the only ones who are disloyal to him. There's a chance we can make contact and find out where he's stashed himself away."
"Yeah, and then he could find out where we were," Brain said skeptically. "Not for nothing, but loyal or not, he's got a lot more guys in his arsenal than we do."
"I know it's a 'maybe' at best," Charlie said.
"We're going to need to do better than 'maybe'," Brendan said flatly.
Charlie sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "It's a jumping off point, all right? I don't see any of you coming up with any bright ideas."
"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" Eames asked cheekily.
"I haven't slept in two days, sue me," Charlie grumbled. "Who's to say you're not going to use one of us as bait? It's not easy to really relax with that hanging over my head."
Eames shrugged, his expression as careless and self-pleased as it usually was. "Actually, that's not a terrible idea," he teased, his grin only widening when Charlie blanched.
"Don't listen to him," Mal said with a roll of her eyes. "If we were just going to toss you, we wouldn't have gone through the trouble to save you. You could have betrayed us at any time, and you didn't, so I can assure you that you're as safe as you can be with us."
"We're not the kind of people to make the sacrifice play," Cobb said. "I don't think any of us could ever be that desperate."
"That's because you've never been that desperate," Russell snorted.
Laura lit up a cigarette, leaning against the arm of the chair Charlie was propped in. "So, what do we do? We're sitting ducks here, and he's probably got guys scouring the globe for our faces. He doesn't know what move we're going to make, so I guarantee he's spooked. We're sort of stuck in the same situation, so it's a stalemate, but staying here isn't the best way to go."
"If we go on the run though, we've got a trail," Mal said. "At least here there are crowds to disappear into and a lot of ground to cover. I know we can't stay here forever, but I'm not sure moving is our best option right now either."
"I know," Laura sighed before taking a drag. "Our next move is going to be risky no matter what."
"Which is why we need to come up with a plan of action, yeah?" Eames offered impishly. "That's what this little pow-wow is for."
"Helpful," Brendan said sarcastically, cutting his eyes towards Eames.
"All right, how about we just put our hands up and tell him where we are?" Eames suggested, and suddenly everyone was looking at him like the nut he apparently was. "Now, now, hear me out, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm saying we have him come to us, and then we ambush him."
"What part of 'bigger arsenal of guys than us' didn't you get?" Brain asked. "There's no way we could take them down on our own."
"You Americans took down my people in your little revolution even though the odds were against you. Where's your fighting spirit?" Eames teased. Brain's cheeks colored in anger. It was about as out of control as Brain got. "Anyway, that's not all. I know a few blokes who would want to break some deserving skulls, and I've got some who owe me favors too. I can make a few phone calls, and then we've got back up. We'll find a place, set up a battleground, and send out our battle cry. Then we just wait to see if he bites. He wants to play war, then we'll give him war."
"Having a couple of your friends show up in the middle of nowhere with guns doesn't guarantee any sort of victory," Laura complained. "It's basically a suicide mission!"
"Nothing we do is a guaranteed victory," Eames replied. "If I go out, I want to go down swinging." He sighed when the room fell silent, sitting back in his chair, throwing his hands in the air. "Regardless of what we do, we have to make a move or they'll move in on us first. I guarantee that they won't be merciful."
"It's not the greatest plan," Brendan admitted, running a hand over his hair, "but it's probably about as close as we're going to get to a good one."
The entire room was dismal, Brendan included, but he knew Eames was right about one thing. It was war, and they sure as hell needed to make the first move if they stood any chance of succeeding.
"Once we're set up and prepared, one of the three of you will squeal," Brendan nodded towards Russell, Charlie, and Laura. "Say you were forced into going with us, something like that, play double agent."
"And if he doesn't believe us?" Russell asked skeptically. "You realize that he'll kill us, don't you?"
"You won't be face to face with him. Whoever it is, they'll say they've been captured, made an escape, but we're hot on your tail, something like that. I don't know. Either way, it has to be one of you because he'd certainly be less inclined to believe it's a trap if it's someone who's worked with him in the past."
"He'll still probably think it's a trap," Laura said.
"Then we'll have to be prepared for that, won't we? Either way, if we make the call, we're the ones dealing the cards. Whether we have a good hand or not is unfortunately up to fate, but I'd rather be the one in control than him," Brendan sighed. "It's all we can do."
"I'll start making calls then," Eames said.
"Me too," Mal added. "I think I know a few people who might be able to assist."
"I'll keep my eyes online to see what the buzz is," Brain mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "I'll scope out the desert and see if there's a place we can use. For that, I'm going to need lots of coffee."
"I can help with all that," Charlie said. "I'm pretty good with computers."
"Great, well, let's all batten down our hatches and get started then, yeah?" Eames offered lightly, and honestly, Brendan had no idea how he could be so calm. Then again, Eames's default emotion was playful. It was an impressive way to keep people's guards down, really, and if Brendan didn't trust him, he would have been absolutely terrified of what he could do.
Actually… when did he start trusting Eames exactly?
Things were moving slowly, which Brendan supposed wasn't that much of a surprise since they had to handle this work as delicately as possible. Eames and Mal weren't just dialing up their friends and asking to join the crusade after all. Background checks had to be done, thorough ones, to ensure loyalty, as well as offers of the right kind of price. Eames's friends in particular weren't dependable without a price.
Unfortunately, moving so slowly meant that there was a lot of time to sit around. Brendan never did find sitting around very relaxing, especially before something big, risky, and probably stupid was about to go down. He paced about his hotel room, stewing on it, until Brain ended up leaving with the claim that he'd never get any work done with him buzzing about.
It wasn't twenty minutes later when Eames arrived, looking like he was enjoying himself just a little more than he should, given the situation. "Your mate showed up in our room complaining about not giving him any peace. Trouble in paradise?"
"Brain usually works completely alone," Brendan shrugged. "He's not used to company unless he calls for it." He pursed his lips, eyes making a slow drag towards Eames's hand where it was wrapped around a bottle of whiskey. "You intending on making friends with Jack Daniel?"
"Thought it might calm your nerves a bit. Fancy a drink?"
"Do you have glasses?"
Eames rolled his eyes with a grin. "What do you take me for? Sit."
Brendan did on the edge of his bed and watched Eames push the door shut with his shoulder before setting the whiskey bottle on the bedside table. Eames pulled two tumblers out, one from each pocket of the blazer he was wearing, and set them next to the bottle. "I'm afraid I don't have any ice in my pockets, mind," Eames said, pouring two fingers of the drink into each glass.
Brendan lifted his glass. "Cheers, I guess."
Eames clinked his glass against Brendan's and took a swallow. "So, you're a bit in a tizzy, hm."
"I don't like waiting around if I can't do anything to help."
"You'll be getting your hands plenty dirty soon enough, I promise."
Brendan looked down into his glass, swilling the liquid around. "We might not get out of this one."
"I'd say we probably won't, but we might as well give it the old college try."
"So, you aren't afraid to die?"
"Please," Eames huffed. "Death has been following me around since I joined her majesty's and let people shoot at me. I don't want to die, no, but all the same I'm not afraid of it. We all have to go sometime and all that. Why? Are you afraid?"
"No," Brendan said, soft and honest. "I think you and I are both well aware of the fact that I've had a death wish right up until recently. It's just… when you're at that breaking point, you kind of can't help but think about what you did, what you didn't do… people who you might be leaving behind, people you never thought you cared about, people you never thought cared about you… You wonder what's after… if all of that peace and paradise stuff is real or just the bullshit we come up with to comfort ourselves into sleep. You think about how things could have been different if only you were different. All that stupid stuff."
"So, you think if you could go back and do it all again, you'd do it differently."
Brendan snorted. "I doubt it. If I thought I had a leg up on destiny, I'd probably do the exact same thing and think I could stop all of the bad parts in the process. I'm thick-headed."
Eames had a touch of a smile on his lips, but he made it disappear with another swig from his glass. "It's all meaningless in the end, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Brendan said weakly. The hand holding his glass started to tremble unexpectedly, and he could feel Eames's eyes on him. "It's not fair, is it? Most of us are just… We're fucking kids, Eames, we shouldn't… We shouldn't have to do all this…"
"You play grown-up games, you have to play by grown-up rules," Eames said gently, setting his glass down and then taking Brendan's and setting it aside as well. He sat next to Brendan and put an arm around him. It was slow but deliberate, his fingers squeezing his shoulder before sliding casually over his bicep. It was a gesture asking for trust, and for some reason it felt like a lifeline. Brendan was hanging on for dear life. "It doesn't mean you're not allowed to be afraid."
"I'm not afraid," Brendan said, though the tremor in his voice might have indicated otherwise. "I just don't want it to be over. I don't want to die like this… If I die, that means I fail, and I can't let it end like that, Eames. That can't be how it's supposed to be."
"Well, your heart's still beating right now, isn't it? There's no guarantee you're going to die."
"My life isn't the only one though, Eames… These people… Brain, Mal, even Cobb… Even you… You're my friends. If one of you goes down… I can't, I can't let it end that way either. I already lost Emily and most of my mind. I dragged so many of these people into this mess, and if I don't get them out, what does that say about me?" He paused, hands wringing in his lap, licking his dry lips. "I know one thing is for goddamned sure, I'd rather die than watch people get slaughtered to protect me."
"They're going to be fighting for their own lives," Eames said, squeezing his shoulder a little. "We all are. If we wanted out, we could have gotten out by now… Stop being so selfish, thinking all of this is for you." Smile.
"I know it's not," Brendan said softly. "Everything spiraled out of control though… because I threw a tantrum."
"Over some surveillance cameras in a house full of people you were wary about," Eames said with a shrug. "As agitated as I was when you broke my laptop and accused me of treason, I can't say I would have behaved any differently in your situation. Well. No, I can't say that because I'm not nearly as hot-headed as you are. I probably would have been a little less upfront in my offense. Itching powder in your clothes or something."
Brendan leveled him with a deadpan gaze, so Eames gladly continued. "Okay, yeah, probably something worse than that but I'm not about to give you all of the bullets in my arsenal. It's an example. What I'm trying to say is that we all make bad plays once in a while. We're human beings; it's how we function. If you want to place the blame on anyone it should probably be on me since I'm the one who stole Johnny's stash out of that den in San Clemente, and no, no, don't go shaking your head at me like that. I can see the look on your face so don't even try it, all right?" Brendan had been about to say something, but he stayed quiet.
"The fact of the matter is, love," Eames continued, "that it'll play out how it plays out, and there's no use in tossing blame and fear about. Sometimes you just have to sit back and let your luck work for you. As far as I'm concerned, we've gotten this far, so maybe we'll win this hand too. There's no point in worrying about it because we've already sat down to play."
"I've never been that much of a gambler."
"Bollocks. You're as much a gambler as I am, and you play higher stakes than I ever did. You put your cards on people who for all you knew could have betrayed you, and you won that hand. I never would have bet on that."
"I had nothing left to lose."
"Just your life."
"Which I would have lost anyway."
"Yes, and you're alive and kicking, aren't you? Maybe you have some sort of angel on your shoulder or something. Death is mocked by you, you bloody marvel."
Brendan hummed, picking up his glass again with a slightly steadier hand and knocking back what was left inside of it. "I don't think this is any time to get cocky."
"Never said it was, but if there was anyone I would be willing to bet on in this little prizefight, it would be you. You're no child anymore, darling. You've been made into a man on this little journey, and you're tough as nails at that. I don't put much faith in a lot of things, but I put my faith in you."
Brendan watched him for a moment or two, lips parted slightly. There was still a lot he didn't know about Eames, but he definitely understood the strength of this confession, no matter how casually it was said. Eames was the man who didn't have friends without a price, who smiled to hide his true intentions. He was a man who was distrustful because it was safer that way, a man who preferred a loyalty that could be bought. He'd learned with Antony that true devotion hurts a lot more than when betrayal is expected. Brendan knew Eames would turn on someone quicker than they could even think of how to do the same and probably had back-up plans for his back-up plans, even if he'd never admit to them.
Now here the two of them were, out of options, and Eames was putting his faith in Brendan. Eames had let Brendan inside.
"We should… probably see what everyone else is doing," Brendan said softly. He could feel Eames's breath he was sitting so close. It had seemed so natural that he hadn't even noticed it until now.
"Yes, probably," Eames said, though he never stopped looking into Brendan's eyes, never made even an attempt to move out of his personal bubble. Eames's arm was still around him, and he didn't have the slightest urge to shrug him off. "See if they've made any progress. Now isn't the time to be getting distracted."
"Distracted by what?" Brendan asked.
"Mm, probably this," Eames said, a warm hand planting itself on the side of Brendan's neck and dragging him those couple of inches closer to close the distance. He kissed Brendan's bottom lip, just lightly sucking on it for just a moment before releasing it. He didn't move away though.
"Yeah, we probably shouldn't do that," Brendan agreed breathlessly, and then dragged Eames back in and letting their mouths slot together properly. Eames's breath was hot and tinged strongly with the flavor of Jack Daniel's, as well as a cigarette he probably smoked before coming by. It was a flavor that on anyone else wouldn't have been welcome, but here and now Brendan savored the taste, letting it fill up his thoughts and his body.
Eames's hands slid down Brendan's arms, dropped to the bed, and then he was leaning forward and taking Brendan down with him. Brendan's head hit the mattress, and he used that opportunity to take a quick breath before taking Eames in for another long kiss, tongue sliding over Eames's teeth. Eames let out a soft groan, and it rumbled through all of Brendan's bones.
Kissing Eames was more familiar than it should have been considering they'd only done this once before. The desperation was missing from this one, but Brendan was quick to realize that it was hard to remember his previous kisses in comparison. It was hard to focus on anything but what was happening right here and now, with Eames's left hand planted next to his head and the other sliding up his side under his t-shirt. Eames seemed content to taste every inch of Brendan's mouth, but then he was pulling away to trail kisses along his jaw and back towards his ear.
The next sound came from Brendan's throat, soft and wanting. Eames's lips were slightly chapped from the dry Vegas weather, and his stubble was a little scratchy, but in that moment Brendan wouldn't have traded it for anything.
Before he'd needed someone to take care of him, just for a little while, but this time around he wasn't so sure if that was what he was searching for. Perhaps, he thought, this was his way of opening his doors to Eames as well, returning trust for trust. He didn't know for sure, but he didn't really care that much because Eames was gently biting at his ear lobe and that made his skin feel like it was on fire.
Eames paused, then rested his cheek against the side of Brendan's neck, feeling the pulse pounding there. Then he was back at Brendan's mouth, pulling him up from the mattress so he could ruck his t-shirt the rest of the way up. They broke only so it could be taken off completely, and then Brendan's arms were tangling around Eames's neck and his tongue was dragging along the roof of Eames's mouth.
Eames's hands had settled on Brendan's ass when the kiss broke again, and he was smiling a little, eyes half-lidded, giving him an almost dopey look of adoration. Brendan was suddenly very aware that Eames wasn't kissing Antony this time. He only had eyes for Brendan. For some reason that made him feel all the more longing.
"You're not going to back out on me this time, are you?" Brendan panted, managing to find some sort of focus even with a hard on pressed against the thigh he was straddling.
Eames's grin just widened, and he pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before moving back to take off his blazer, then the shirt underneath it. Brendan's mouth went dry as he studied the tattoos Eames revealed a little bit at a time. He'd never been attracted to a man like this before, but he guessed there was a first time for everything.
Eames tossed his shirt aside and gently shoved Brendan until he fell back onto the bed, limbs sprawled. "I'm honestly kicking myself for backing out the last time," Eames assured him, crawling over him and pressing long lingering kisses to his cheek, his lips, his chin. "Have you even been with another man before?"
That was when Brendan faltered, though only momentarily. "It's not an area of expertise for me, no."
Eames hummed, gaze warming. "Don't worry about it. We'll start things slow, mm? Save the more complicated things for another time."
Brendan didn't get the opportunity to ask what exactly he meant by that before Eames was unbuttoning Brendan's jeans and sliding his hand inside. Brendan's hips jerked, voice catching in his throat. It felt like it had been an eternity since he'd been touched like this. It wasn't anything he'd been particularly needy for, at least not most of the time, but it was in times like these that he remembered just how often he'd gone without…
…and it wasn't even about sex, not really. Brendan had spent so many days, so many long nights alone or as good as alone, hiding under the fringe of his hair. He'd stayed cold, forcing his focus onto task after task, fighting just for a reason to keep on going, to find someone worth holding onto. Eames might not have been that person-he honestly didn't know right now, but to have a gentle hand on him, one he could entrust wouldn't be turning traitorous, that was something he'd grown to miss. The only trustworthy hand that had ever been laid on him was Emily's, and without her, finding another wasn't really in his interest. He'd promised her though, and he would keep the promise this time.
It was time to move forward. He possibly didn't have a whole lot of life left ahead of him, so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
Eames dragged Brendan's jeans and underwear down his thighs. The air made him shiver, but he couldn't look away from Eames's face. Brendan swallowed, took a couple of breaths, and said one word.
"Please…"
Eames met the word with another kiss, soft and lingering. Brendan could see the wrinkles in Eames's brow, the way his expression had looked almost concerned, almost sympathetic, like he could understand why it hurt so much to say, why it took so long to say it. Maybe he could understand it. Maybe Brendan had just been the one to break and say it first.
As quickly as the look was there, it was gone, and Eames was smiling again. He rubbed his cheek against Brendan's, nipped at his untouched earlobe, and whispered, "Don't worry, love. I've got you. Everyone always said I've got a mouth for sucking cock."
"Please don't talk about everyone," Brendan grunted, laughing breathlessly as Eames nibbled at his neck.
"Something tells me you're going to be demanding in bed. I'll keep that in mind," Eames said, crouching between Brendan's legs. "If you weren't so lovely, you wouldn't be getting away with this."
Brendan wanted to come up with some sort of jabbing response, but then Eames's was taking him into his mouth, and he forgot.
He let out a whimper, but Eames's hands were petting his shaking thighs almost immediately. Brendan was torn between watching and squeezing his eyes shut just in the effort not to lose control all together, but he eventually settled on the latter. His hand slid up through the short bristly hairs on Eames's head, the other hand gripping the sheet. He breathed in and out, in and out, shakily through his nose while Eames slowly, almost methodically, sucked him off. Just when Brendan would think he was getting used to what Eames was doing, he would of course do something different, causing him to groan and shift his hips. Eames apparently did this just like he did everything else, relying on giving a person a certain impression and then adjusting accordingly to keep on surprising.
The sounds Brendan was making were wrecked, only becoming more so when he dared venture to open his eyes and see Eames expertly taking him down as far as he could. His stubble was rubbing against Brendan's thighs every now and then, and his eyes were watching interestedly for every response. Brendan couldn't even imagine how he looked right now, but apparently it was appealing because Eames was looking pretty wrecked himself-flushed, sweating, pupils blown, hands roaming over every inch of skin Brendan had offered him as if he couldn't get enough of touching him.
It really was quite a sight, and Brendan in a feverish wave of hormones couldn't help but wildly think that it was a view he hoped to get used to.
This wasn't love, Brendan knew that for sure. He'd felt love before, and this wasn't it, at least not yet. It wasn't love at all, but whatever it was, it was close enough.
It was all Brendan really needed, at least for now.
also available on AO3
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Brick/Inception fusion
Word count: 4,495
Pairing: later Brendan(Arthur)xEames, mentions of BrendanxEmily and BrendanxLaura
Rating: R
Warnings: currently violence, language, mentions of character death
Summary: Brendan should have known better than to tug on loose threads. He should have known that one loose thread was all it took to make everything unravel, but he’d been tired and just wanted things to be done. He should have known well enough that things were never done.
Special thanks to wadebramwilson for betaing! <3
NINETEEN
As ridiculous as it was, talking to Eames had made Brendan feel a little less lost. He wasn't completely repaired by any means, but he rested easier. Without his brain being entirely preoccupied, he could focus more on the problem at hand and attempt to come up with some sort of solution.
He hadn't found one yet, but he was trying.
Brainstorm sessions between him and the rest of the group were long and usually a bit fruitless. Russell, Charlie, and Laura were well aware of what John Wells was capable of, and they also had faith that he wouldn't be found easily if he didn't want to be. He also didn't give a damn whose lives he had to sacrifice in order to save his own skin. Brendan was pretty sure most everyone already knew about that part.
"The good thing is," Charlie said as they all sat about in one of the hotel rooms, "and keep in mind that good is not great… but the good thing is that Johnny's attitude about saving himself means that we're probably not the only ones who are disloyal to him. There's a chance we can make contact and find out where he's stashed himself away."
"Yeah, and then he could find out where we were," Brain said skeptically. "Not for nothing, but loyal or not, he's got a lot more guys in his arsenal than we do."
"I know it's a 'maybe' at best," Charlie said.
"We're going to need to do better than 'maybe'," Brendan said flatly.
Charlie sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "It's a jumping off point, all right? I don't see any of you coming up with any bright ideas."
"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" Eames asked cheekily.
"I haven't slept in two days, sue me," Charlie grumbled. "Who's to say you're not going to use one of us as bait? It's not easy to really relax with that hanging over my head."
Eames shrugged, his expression as careless and self-pleased as it usually was. "Actually, that's not a terrible idea," he teased, his grin only widening when Charlie blanched.
"Don't listen to him," Mal said with a roll of her eyes. "If we were just going to toss you, we wouldn't have gone through the trouble to save you. You could have betrayed us at any time, and you didn't, so I can assure you that you're as safe as you can be with us."
"We're not the kind of people to make the sacrifice play," Cobb said. "I don't think any of us could ever be that desperate."
"That's because you've never been that desperate," Russell snorted.
Laura lit up a cigarette, leaning against the arm of the chair Charlie was propped in. "So, what do we do? We're sitting ducks here, and he's probably got guys scouring the globe for our faces. He doesn't know what move we're going to make, so I guarantee he's spooked. We're sort of stuck in the same situation, so it's a stalemate, but staying here isn't the best way to go."
"If we go on the run though, we've got a trail," Mal said. "At least here there are crowds to disappear into and a lot of ground to cover. I know we can't stay here forever, but I'm not sure moving is our best option right now either."
"I know," Laura sighed before taking a drag. "Our next move is going to be risky no matter what."
"Which is why we need to come up with a plan of action, yeah?" Eames offered impishly. "That's what this little pow-wow is for."
"Helpful," Brendan said sarcastically, cutting his eyes towards Eames.
"All right, how about we just put our hands up and tell him where we are?" Eames suggested, and suddenly everyone was looking at him like the nut he apparently was. "Now, now, hear me out, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm saying we have him come to us, and then we ambush him."
"What part of 'bigger arsenal of guys than us' didn't you get?" Brain asked. "There's no way we could take them down on our own."
"You Americans took down my people in your little revolution even though the odds were against you. Where's your fighting spirit?" Eames teased. Brain's cheeks colored in anger. It was about as out of control as Brain got. "Anyway, that's not all. I know a few blokes who would want to break some deserving skulls, and I've got some who owe me favors too. I can make a few phone calls, and then we've got back up. We'll find a place, set up a battleground, and send out our battle cry. Then we just wait to see if he bites. He wants to play war, then we'll give him war."
"Having a couple of your friends show up in the middle of nowhere with guns doesn't guarantee any sort of victory," Laura complained. "It's basically a suicide mission!"
"Nothing we do is a guaranteed victory," Eames replied. "If I go out, I want to go down swinging." He sighed when the room fell silent, sitting back in his chair, throwing his hands in the air. "Regardless of what we do, we have to make a move or they'll move in on us first. I guarantee that they won't be merciful."
"It's not the greatest plan," Brendan admitted, running a hand over his hair, "but it's probably about as close as we're going to get to a good one."
The entire room was dismal, Brendan included, but he knew Eames was right about one thing. It was war, and they sure as hell needed to make the first move if they stood any chance of succeeding.
"Once we're set up and prepared, one of the three of you will squeal," Brendan nodded towards Russell, Charlie, and Laura. "Say you were forced into going with us, something like that, play double agent."
"And if he doesn't believe us?" Russell asked skeptically. "You realize that he'll kill us, don't you?"
"You won't be face to face with him. Whoever it is, they'll say they've been captured, made an escape, but we're hot on your tail, something like that. I don't know. Either way, it has to be one of you because he'd certainly be less inclined to believe it's a trap if it's someone who's worked with him in the past."
"He'll still probably think it's a trap," Laura said.
"Then we'll have to be prepared for that, won't we? Either way, if we make the call, we're the ones dealing the cards. Whether we have a good hand or not is unfortunately up to fate, but I'd rather be the one in control than him," Brendan sighed. "It's all we can do."
"I'll start making calls then," Eames said.
"Me too," Mal added. "I think I know a few people who might be able to assist."
"I'll keep my eyes online to see what the buzz is," Brain mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "I'll scope out the desert and see if there's a place we can use. For that, I'm going to need lots of coffee."
"I can help with all that," Charlie said. "I'm pretty good with computers."
"Great, well, let's all batten down our hatches and get started then, yeah?" Eames offered lightly, and honestly, Brendan had no idea how he could be so calm. Then again, Eames's default emotion was playful. It was an impressive way to keep people's guards down, really, and if Brendan didn't trust him, he would have been absolutely terrified of what he could do.
Actually… when did he start trusting Eames exactly?
Things were moving slowly, which Brendan supposed wasn't that much of a surprise since they had to handle this work as delicately as possible. Eames and Mal weren't just dialing up their friends and asking to join the crusade after all. Background checks had to be done, thorough ones, to ensure loyalty, as well as offers of the right kind of price. Eames's friends in particular weren't dependable without a price.
Unfortunately, moving so slowly meant that there was a lot of time to sit around. Brendan never did find sitting around very relaxing, especially before something big, risky, and probably stupid was about to go down. He paced about his hotel room, stewing on it, until Brain ended up leaving with the claim that he'd never get any work done with him buzzing about.
It wasn't twenty minutes later when Eames arrived, looking like he was enjoying himself just a little more than he should, given the situation. "Your mate showed up in our room complaining about not giving him any peace. Trouble in paradise?"
"Brain usually works completely alone," Brendan shrugged. "He's not used to company unless he calls for it." He pursed his lips, eyes making a slow drag towards Eames's hand where it was wrapped around a bottle of whiskey. "You intending on making friends with Jack Daniel?"
"Thought it might calm your nerves a bit. Fancy a drink?"
"Do you have glasses?"
Eames rolled his eyes with a grin. "What do you take me for? Sit."
Brendan did on the edge of his bed and watched Eames push the door shut with his shoulder before setting the whiskey bottle on the bedside table. Eames pulled two tumblers out, one from each pocket of the blazer he was wearing, and set them next to the bottle. "I'm afraid I don't have any ice in my pockets, mind," Eames said, pouring two fingers of the drink into each glass.
Brendan lifted his glass. "Cheers, I guess."
Eames clinked his glass against Brendan's and took a swallow. "So, you're a bit in a tizzy, hm."
"I don't like waiting around if I can't do anything to help."
"You'll be getting your hands plenty dirty soon enough, I promise."
Brendan looked down into his glass, swilling the liquid around. "We might not get out of this one."
"I'd say we probably won't, but we might as well give it the old college try."
"So, you aren't afraid to die?"
"Please," Eames huffed. "Death has been following me around since I joined her majesty's and let people shoot at me. I don't want to die, no, but all the same I'm not afraid of it. We all have to go sometime and all that. Why? Are you afraid?"
"No," Brendan said, soft and honest. "I think you and I are both well aware of the fact that I've had a death wish right up until recently. It's just… when you're at that breaking point, you kind of can't help but think about what you did, what you didn't do… people who you might be leaving behind, people you never thought you cared about, people you never thought cared about you… You wonder what's after… if all of that peace and paradise stuff is real or just the bullshit we come up with to comfort ourselves into sleep. You think about how things could have been different if only you were different. All that stupid stuff."
"So, you think if you could go back and do it all again, you'd do it differently."
Brendan snorted. "I doubt it. If I thought I had a leg up on destiny, I'd probably do the exact same thing and think I could stop all of the bad parts in the process. I'm thick-headed."
Eames had a touch of a smile on his lips, but he made it disappear with another swig from his glass. "It's all meaningless in the end, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Brendan said weakly. The hand holding his glass started to tremble unexpectedly, and he could feel Eames's eyes on him. "It's not fair, is it? Most of us are just… We're fucking kids, Eames, we shouldn't… We shouldn't have to do all this…"
"You play grown-up games, you have to play by grown-up rules," Eames said gently, setting his glass down and then taking Brendan's and setting it aside as well. He sat next to Brendan and put an arm around him. It was slow but deliberate, his fingers squeezing his shoulder before sliding casually over his bicep. It was a gesture asking for trust, and for some reason it felt like a lifeline. Brendan was hanging on for dear life. "It doesn't mean you're not allowed to be afraid."
"I'm not afraid," Brendan said, though the tremor in his voice might have indicated otherwise. "I just don't want it to be over. I don't want to die like this… If I die, that means I fail, and I can't let it end like that, Eames. That can't be how it's supposed to be."
"Well, your heart's still beating right now, isn't it? There's no guarantee you're going to die."
"My life isn't the only one though, Eames… These people… Brain, Mal, even Cobb… Even you… You're my friends. If one of you goes down… I can't, I can't let it end that way either. I already lost Emily and most of my mind. I dragged so many of these people into this mess, and if I don't get them out, what does that say about me?" He paused, hands wringing in his lap, licking his dry lips. "I know one thing is for goddamned sure, I'd rather die than watch people get slaughtered to protect me."
"They're going to be fighting for their own lives," Eames said, squeezing his shoulder a little. "We all are. If we wanted out, we could have gotten out by now… Stop being so selfish, thinking all of this is for you." Smile.
"I know it's not," Brendan said softly. "Everything spiraled out of control though… because I threw a tantrum."
"Over some surveillance cameras in a house full of people you were wary about," Eames said with a shrug. "As agitated as I was when you broke my laptop and accused me of treason, I can't say I would have behaved any differently in your situation. Well. No, I can't say that because I'm not nearly as hot-headed as you are. I probably would have been a little less upfront in my offense. Itching powder in your clothes or something."
Brendan leveled him with a deadpan gaze, so Eames gladly continued. "Okay, yeah, probably something worse than that but I'm not about to give you all of the bullets in my arsenal. It's an example. What I'm trying to say is that we all make bad plays once in a while. We're human beings; it's how we function. If you want to place the blame on anyone it should probably be on me since I'm the one who stole Johnny's stash out of that den in San Clemente, and no, no, don't go shaking your head at me like that. I can see the look on your face so don't even try it, all right?" Brendan had been about to say something, but he stayed quiet.
"The fact of the matter is, love," Eames continued, "that it'll play out how it plays out, and there's no use in tossing blame and fear about. Sometimes you just have to sit back and let your luck work for you. As far as I'm concerned, we've gotten this far, so maybe we'll win this hand too. There's no point in worrying about it because we've already sat down to play."
"I've never been that much of a gambler."
"Bollocks. You're as much a gambler as I am, and you play higher stakes than I ever did. You put your cards on people who for all you knew could have betrayed you, and you won that hand. I never would have bet on that."
"I had nothing left to lose."
"Just your life."
"Which I would have lost anyway."
"Yes, and you're alive and kicking, aren't you? Maybe you have some sort of angel on your shoulder or something. Death is mocked by you, you bloody marvel."
Brendan hummed, picking up his glass again with a slightly steadier hand and knocking back what was left inside of it. "I don't think this is any time to get cocky."
"Never said it was, but if there was anyone I would be willing to bet on in this little prizefight, it would be you. You're no child anymore, darling. You've been made into a man on this little journey, and you're tough as nails at that. I don't put much faith in a lot of things, but I put my faith in you."
Brendan watched him for a moment or two, lips parted slightly. There was still a lot he didn't know about Eames, but he definitely understood the strength of this confession, no matter how casually it was said. Eames was the man who didn't have friends without a price, who smiled to hide his true intentions. He was a man who was distrustful because it was safer that way, a man who preferred a loyalty that could be bought. He'd learned with Antony that true devotion hurts a lot more than when betrayal is expected. Brendan knew Eames would turn on someone quicker than they could even think of how to do the same and probably had back-up plans for his back-up plans, even if he'd never admit to them.
Now here the two of them were, out of options, and Eames was putting his faith in Brendan. Eames had let Brendan inside.
"We should… probably see what everyone else is doing," Brendan said softly. He could feel Eames's breath he was sitting so close. It had seemed so natural that he hadn't even noticed it until now.
"Yes, probably," Eames said, though he never stopped looking into Brendan's eyes, never made even an attempt to move out of his personal bubble. Eames's arm was still around him, and he didn't have the slightest urge to shrug him off. "See if they've made any progress. Now isn't the time to be getting distracted."
"Distracted by what?" Brendan asked.
"Mm, probably this," Eames said, a warm hand planting itself on the side of Brendan's neck and dragging him those couple of inches closer to close the distance. He kissed Brendan's bottom lip, just lightly sucking on it for just a moment before releasing it. He didn't move away though.
"Yeah, we probably shouldn't do that," Brendan agreed breathlessly, and then dragged Eames back in and letting their mouths slot together properly. Eames's breath was hot and tinged strongly with the flavor of Jack Daniel's, as well as a cigarette he probably smoked before coming by. It was a flavor that on anyone else wouldn't have been welcome, but here and now Brendan savored the taste, letting it fill up his thoughts and his body.
Eames's hands slid down Brendan's arms, dropped to the bed, and then he was leaning forward and taking Brendan down with him. Brendan's head hit the mattress, and he used that opportunity to take a quick breath before taking Eames in for another long kiss, tongue sliding over Eames's teeth. Eames let out a soft groan, and it rumbled through all of Brendan's bones.
Kissing Eames was more familiar than it should have been considering they'd only done this once before. The desperation was missing from this one, but Brendan was quick to realize that it was hard to remember his previous kisses in comparison. It was hard to focus on anything but what was happening right here and now, with Eames's left hand planted next to his head and the other sliding up his side under his t-shirt. Eames seemed content to taste every inch of Brendan's mouth, but then he was pulling away to trail kisses along his jaw and back towards his ear.
The next sound came from Brendan's throat, soft and wanting. Eames's lips were slightly chapped from the dry Vegas weather, and his stubble was a little scratchy, but in that moment Brendan wouldn't have traded it for anything.
Before he'd needed someone to take care of him, just for a little while, but this time around he wasn't so sure if that was what he was searching for. Perhaps, he thought, this was his way of opening his doors to Eames as well, returning trust for trust. He didn't know for sure, but he didn't really care that much because Eames was gently biting at his ear lobe and that made his skin feel like it was on fire.
Eames paused, then rested his cheek against the side of Brendan's neck, feeling the pulse pounding there. Then he was back at Brendan's mouth, pulling him up from the mattress so he could ruck his t-shirt the rest of the way up. They broke only so it could be taken off completely, and then Brendan's arms were tangling around Eames's neck and his tongue was dragging along the roof of Eames's mouth.
Eames's hands had settled on Brendan's ass when the kiss broke again, and he was smiling a little, eyes half-lidded, giving him an almost dopey look of adoration. Brendan was suddenly very aware that Eames wasn't kissing Antony this time. He only had eyes for Brendan. For some reason that made him feel all the more longing.
"You're not going to back out on me this time, are you?" Brendan panted, managing to find some sort of focus even with a hard on pressed against the thigh he was straddling.
Eames's grin just widened, and he pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before moving back to take off his blazer, then the shirt underneath it. Brendan's mouth went dry as he studied the tattoos Eames revealed a little bit at a time. He'd never been attracted to a man like this before, but he guessed there was a first time for everything.
Eames tossed his shirt aside and gently shoved Brendan until he fell back onto the bed, limbs sprawled. "I'm honestly kicking myself for backing out the last time," Eames assured him, crawling over him and pressing long lingering kisses to his cheek, his lips, his chin. "Have you even been with another man before?"
That was when Brendan faltered, though only momentarily. "It's not an area of expertise for me, no."
Eames hummed, gaze warming. "Don't worry about it. We'll start things slow, mm? Save the more complicated things for another time."
Brendan didn't get the opportunity to ask what exactly he meant by that before Eames was unbuttoning Brendan's jeans and sliding his hand inside. Brendan's hips jerked, voice catching in his throat. It felt like it had been an eternity since he'd been touched like this. It wasn't anything he'd been particularly needy for, at least not most of the time, but it was in times like these that he remembered just how often he'd gone without…
…and it wasn't even about sex, not really. Brendan had spent so many days, so many long nights alone or as good as alone, hiding under the fringe of his hair. He'd stayed cold, forcing his focus onto task after task, fighting just for a reason to keep on going, to find someone worth holding onto. Eames might not have been that person-he honestly didn't know right now, but to have a gentle hand on him, one he could entrust wouldn't be turning traitorous, that was something he'd grown to miss. The only trustworthy hand that had ever been laid on him was Emily's, and without her, finding another wasn't really in his interest. He'd promised her though, and he would keep the promise this time.
It was time to move forward. He possibly didn't have a whole lot of life left ahead of him, so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
Eames dragged Brendan's jeans and underwear down his thighs. The air made him shiver, but he couldn't look away from Eames's face. Brendan swallowed, took a couple of breaths, and said one word.
"Please…"
Eames met the word with another kiss, soft and lingering. Brendan could see the wrinkles in Eames's brow, the way his expression had looked almost concerned, almost sympathetic, like he could understand why it hurt so much to say, why it took so long to say it. Maybe he could understand it. Maybe Brendan had just been the one to break and say it first.
As quickly as the look was there, it was gone, and Eames was smiling again. He rubbed his cheek against Brendan's, nipped at his untouched earlobe, and whispered, "Don't worry, love. I've got you. Everyone always said I've got a mouth for sucking cock."
"Please don't talk about everyone," Brendan grunted, laughing breathlessly as Eames nibbled at his neck.
"Something tells me you're going to be demanding in bed. I'll keep that in mind," Eames said, crouching between Brendan's legs. "If you weren't so lovely, you wouldn't be getting away with this."
Brendan wanted to come up with some sort of jabbing response, but then Eames's was taking him into his mouth, and he forgot.
He let out a whimper, but Eames's hands were petting his shaking thighs almost immediately. Brendan was torn between watching and squeezing his eyes shut just in the effort not to lose control all together, but he eventually settled on the latter. His hand slid up through the short bristly hairs on Eames's head, the other hand gripping the sheet. He breathed in and out, in and out, shakily through his nose while Eames slowly, almost methodically, sucked him off. Just when Brendan would think he was getting used to what Eames was doing, he would of course do something different, causing him to groan and shift his hips. Eames apparently did this just like he did everything else, relying on giving a person a certain impression and then adjusting accordingly to keep on surprising.
The sounds Brendan was making were wrecked, only becoming more so when he dared venture to open his eyes and see Eames expertly taking him down as far as he could. His stubble was rubbing against Brendan's thighs every now and then, and his eyes were watching interestedly for every response. Brendan couldn't even imagine how he looked right now, but apparently it was appealing because Eames was looking pretty wrecked himself-flushed, sweating, pupils blown, hands roaming over every inch of skin Brendan had offered him as if he couldn't get enough of touching him.
It really was quite a sight, and Brendan in a feverish wave of hormones couldn't help but wildly think that it was a view he hoped to get used to.
This wasn't love, Brendan knew that for sure. He'd felt love before, and this wasn't it, at least not yet. It wasn't love at all, but whatever it was, it was close enough.
It was all Brendan really needed, at least for now.
also available on AO3