i can see you (can you see me?) [inception]
Title: i can see you (can you see me?)
Fandom: Inception
Summary: He knows when she needs him - she never has to ask.
Pairing: Ariadne/Yusuf
Rating: R
Notes: I mean...yeah. I love them. I love this. I love not sleeping. &hearts
The most surprising thing about Yusuf is nearly everything, Ariadne has decided. The fact that he is so much larger than her in every way - his hands and his voice and his smile and his drive - the fact that he manages to always be there the moment she needs him, like some strange magnet that lives forever by her side.
The fact that he knows she needs him - and she never has to ask.
Where did you come from? she'll say quietly, and he'll just smile and press a kiss to her neck, the small pressure from his thumb sending shivers down her spine. The entire world grows just a little bit quieter in that moment and she leans all her weight against him, knowing he'll always be able to carry it.
Ariadne's a trembling mess when she's hovering over him, sweat slick between them in her stuffy apartment. The air conditioning's been broken for two weeks, but for some reason that doesn't stop her from trapping him between her sheets and her thighs and her lips - it doesn't stop her from keeping him here with her, when she knows he could be half-way around the world doing something far more productive.
You need to be somewhere, she murmurs into his neck, fingers knotted around the wet curls of his hair, the fan in the window making more noise than it should.
No. I don't. But the truth is he does. He has a dozen jobs lined up and he's leaving her behind because he won't let her drop out of school just to trot around the world and put herself in anymore danger. If you could really understand how fragile you are -
She hates that word. Fragility. And when he leaves the first time, in the early morning with a note begging her to take care of his cat, she hates him for a few days, ignoring the obnoxious mewling of the cat that wraps herself around her ankles until, eventually, she realizes she can't hate him at all. Ariadne throws herself into her last semester of grad school drowning in homework and readings and late nights covered in pen smudges and paper cuts.
I'm feeding your stupid cat, she bites over the phone. The reception is terrible and she has no idea what kind of phone number has more than eleven numbers in it, but she picks it up knowing it's him.
She has a name.
Tabitha is a stupid name.
I miss you, he says, laughing. You're subtlty is one of your most charming qualities.
There's a wonderful pound down the street, you know. But Tabitha mewls like she knows and Ariadne sighs, rolling her eyes and reaching down to lift the animal into her arms. Thanks for leaving her. It's night having a smaller cat-version of you wandering around.
I'll take that as a compliment.
Come back soon.
As fast as I can.
He does come back, two weeks later in the middle of the evening while Ariadne's trying to cook dinner. Tabitha leaps from her spot on the counter and begins pawing furiously at the door, nearly howling. Jesus, Tab. Hold on. Ariadne pulls open the door and he's standing there, trying to pick the lock. Are you serious right now?
Eames taught me, he says quickly, tucking whatever he has in his hands into his back pocket and straightening up. Ariadne grabs him by the collar of his fraying jacket and pulls him down toward her for a kiss. Tabitha threads her way through their legs as they stumble over her and into the apartment.
Your air conditioning works again, he says into her neck, dragging his teeth along the skin.
You need to shut up and fuck me, she hisses. So he does.
When he comes back to her, it's never for very long. They spend most of the time in her bed or in the park near her apartment building, sleeping in the grass while he tells her stories about different jobs and the strange messes he's had to haul Eames out of lately. But mostly, she spends the whole time obsessively counting down the seconds until he leaves again, always setting herself on edge, trying to cram as many touches and kisses into one visit as she can.
You're going to hurt yourself.
Just...stay. For a little while longer.
When you're done with school, you can come with me, he murmurs against her lips one night. Ariadne just stares at the ceiling while he works his way down her body, making her skin prickle and her hands grip his arms tight. She doesn't have the heart to tell him she's going to get a real job. One where she won't have to drive herself crazy and constantly check if she's dreaming or not -
though she knows perfectly well she'll do that until she dies.
Ariadne?
Right, she mutters, closing her eyes and running a hand through his hair. He props himself up on one elbow and looks at her - she knows then that he understands. She won't follow him from country to country, constantly running, constantly looking over her shoulder. She won't. She can't. She has to do something that makes it all worth it.
She graduates and he's not there - but she didn't expect him to be.
Arthur is though. That surprises her.
Yusuf sends his congratulations, among other things.
Arthur.
It's not my place to express someone else's feelings. But he does care for you. Ariadne feels herself blush as she fingers the stem of the yellow rose Arthur's brought her. They're walking along the sidewalk in her park, and she can see the grass where she last napped with the chemist's head in her lap while she read a Spanish history book he'd bought at a university campus in the states. Just...be careful. Won't you?
You're so cautious.
I'm telling you that falling in love in this business can be dangerous. And I know you'd agree. Ariadne glances at her scuffed shoes and wonders when this all became about love.
She wonders when that part became important. And she wonders when the idea of love made her stomach churn and her head spin and her heart ache for him. She wonders.
It figures she would fall in love. Inconvenience is her middle name - and it shows.
He's in Paris a month after her graduation, and he knows she won't be joining him on his next job. But he doesn't really care. I just want you to be happy.
I'm happy when you're here, she mutters, resting her head against his chest.
No. That's not true.
Well I'm certainly miserable when you leave.
You're stronger than that. I know you.
I'm trying to make my case here, Yusuf. You're not helping. She straddles his waist, running her hands along his chest and shaking her head. It's hard, though, to argue like this. To even pretend. She can feel him hard against her so she doesn't waste anymore time, quickly lowering himself onto him and moving slowly. His eyes close and his fingers ghost over her hips, sending shivers down her sides.
When she comes, with a strangle cry and his name hanging in the air, Ariadne wonders how much time is left.
There's a job waiting for her in Phoenix. A tiny duplex she's going to start paying rent for in a few months. Her Paris flat is slowly being emptied out and moved to the states, to the desert where it will be bone dry and sweltering. Ariadne checks the weather in the summer each day and finds herself revolted and terrified of the near 120 degree weather she's presented with.
Stop that. You're making yourself sick.
I'm going to die. Burn to a crisp. Then what will you do?
Follow you there. Burn along with you.
I hate this. There was an offer in Oregon. Why didn't I take that?
Well it's either you burn or you drown. Make a choice. He's making a joke, but it sounds so much heavier on her ears. Ariadne carries the question around with her the rest of the day, distracted through dinner and Yusuf's stories. You're somewhere else. What's wrong? he asks while she brushes her teeth before bed. She pauses, then continues brushing. Yusuf sighs and shakes his head, picking up a book and falling onto the bed. Ariadne comes out of the bathroom, hands defiant on her hips.
What if I don't choose Phoenix?
Then I guess you can call them in Oregon and see-
What if I don't choose Oregon either? Yusuf narrows his eyes at her, confused. Ariadne pulls the book from his hands and straddles his waist. What if I just choose you?
Fandom: Inception
Summary: He knows when she needs him - she never has to ask.
Pairing: Ariadne/Yusuf
Rating: R
Notes: I mean...yeah. I love them. I love this. I love not sleeping. &hearts
The most surprising thing about Yusuf is nearly everything, Ariadne has decided. The fact that he is so much larger than her in every way - his hands and his voice and his smile and his drive - the fact that he manages to always be there the moment she needs him, like some strange magnet that lives forever by her side.
The fact that he knows she needs him - and she never has to ask.
Where did you come from? she'll say quietly, and he'll just smile and press a kiss to her neck, the small pressure from his thumb sending shivers down her spine. The entire world grows just a little bit quieter in that moment and she leans all her weight against him, knowing he'll always be able to carry it.
Ariadne's a trembling mess when she's hovering over him, sweat slick between them in her stuffy apartment. The air conditioning's been broken for two weeks, but for some reason that doesn't stop her from trapping him between her sheets and her thighs and her lips - it doesn't stop her from keeping him here with her, when she knows he could be half-way around the world doing something far more productive.
You need to be somewhere, she murmurs into his neck, fingers knotted around the wet curls of his hair, the fan in the window making more noise than it should.
No. I don't. But the truth is he does. He has a dozen jobs lined up and he's leaving her behind because he won't let her drop out of school just to trot around the world and put herself in anymore danger. If you could really understand how fragile you are -
She hates that word. Fragility. And when he leaves the first time, in the early morning with a note begging her to take care of his cat, she hates him for a few days, ignoring the obnoxious mewling of the cat that wraps herself around her ankles until, eventually, she realizes she can't hate him at all. Ariadne throws herself into her last semester of grad school drowning in homework and readings and late nights covered in pen smudges and paper cuts.
I'm feeding your stupid cat, she bites over the phone. The reception is terrible and she has no idea what kind of phone number has more than eleven numbers in it, but she picks it up knowing it's him.
She has a name.
Tabitha is a stupid name.
I miss you, he says, laughing. You're subtlty is one of your most charming qualities.
There's a wonderful pound down the street, you know. But Tabitha mewls like she knows and Ariadne sighs, rolling her eyes and reaching down to lift the animal into her arms. Thanks for leaving her. It's night having a smaller cat-version of you wandering around.
I'll take that as a compliment.
Come back soon.
As fast as I can.
He does come back, two weeks later in the middle of the evening while Ariadne's trying to cook dinner. Tabitha leaps from her spot on the counter and begins pawing furiously at the door, nearly howling. Jesus, Tab. Hold on. Ariadne pulls open the door and he's standing there, trying to pick the lock. Are you serious right now?
Eames taught me, he says quickly, tucking whatever he has in his hands into his back pocket and straightening up. Ariadne grabs him by the collar of his fraying jacket and pulls him down toward her for a kiss. Tabitha threads her way through their legs as they stumble over her and into the apartment.
Your air conditioning works again, he says into her neck, dragging his teeth along the skin.
You need to shut up and fuck me, she hisses. So he does.
When he comes back to her, it's never for very long. They spend most of the time in her bed or in the park near her apartment building, sleeping in the grass while he tells her stories about different jobs and the strange messes he's had to haul Eames out of lately. But mostly, she spends the whole time obsessively counting down the seconds until he leaves again, always setting herself on edge, trying to cram as many touches and kisses into one visit as she can.
You're going to hurt yourself.
Just...stay. For a little while longer.
When you're done with school, you can come with me, he murmurs against her lips one night. Ariadne just stares at the ceiling while he works his way down her body, making her skin prickle and her hands grip his arms tight. She doesn't have the heart to tell him she's going to get a real job. One where she won't have to drive herself crazy and constantly check if she's dreaming or not -
though she knows perfectly well she'll do that until she dies.
Ariadne?
Right, she mutters, closing her eyes and running a hand through his hair. He props himself up on one elbow and looks at her - she knows then that he understands. She won't follow him from country to country, constantly running, constantly looking over her shoulder. She won't. She can't. She has to do something that makes it all worth it.
She graduates and he's not there - but she didn't expect him to be.
Arthur is though. That surprises her.
Yusuf sends his congratulations, among other things.
Arthur.
It's not my place to express someone else's feelings. But he does care for you. Ariadne feels herself blush as she fingers the stem of the yellow rose Arthur's brought her. They're walking along the sidewalk in her park, and she can see the grass where she last napped with the chemist's head in her lap while she read a Spanish history book he'd bought at a university campus in the states. Just...be careful. Won't you?
You're so cautious.
I'm telling you that falling in love in this business can be dangerous. And I know you'd agree. Ariadne glances at her scuffed shoes and wonders when this all became about love.
She wonders when that part became important. And she wonders when the idea of love made her stomach churn and her head spin and her heart ache for him. She wonders.
It figures she would fall in love. Inconvenience is her middle name - and it shows.
He's in Paris a month after her graduation, and he knows she won't be joining him on his next job. But he doesn't really care. I just want you to be happy.
I'm happy when you're here, she mutters, resting her head against his chest.
No. That's not true.
Well I'm certainly miserable when you leave.
You're stronger than that. I know you.
I'm trying to make my case here, Yusuf. You're not helping. She straddles his waist, running her hands along his chest and shaking her head. It's hard, though, to argue like this. To even pretend. She can feel him hard against her so she doesn't waste anymore time, quickly lowering himself onto him and moving slowly. His eyes close and his fingers ghost over her hips, sending shivers down her sides.
When she comes, with a strangle cry and his name hanging in the air, Ariadne wonders how much time is left.
There's a job waiting for her in Phoenix. A tiny duplex she's going to start paying rent for in a few months. Her Paris flat is slowly being emptied out and moved to the states, to the desert where it will be bone dry and sweltering. Ariadne checks the weather in the summer each day and finds herself revolted and terrified of the near 120 degree weather she's presented with.
Stop that. You're making yourself sick.
I'm going to die. Burn to a crisp. Then what will you do?
Follow you there. Burn along with you.
I hate this. There was an offer in Oregon. Why didn't I take that?
Well it's either you burn or you drown. Make a choice. He's making a joke, but it sounds so much heavier on her ears. Ariadne carries the question around with her the rest of the day, distracted through dinner and Yusuf's stories. You're somewhere else. What's wrong? he asks while she brushes her teeth before bed. She pauses, then continues brushing. Yusuf sighs and shakes his head, picking up a book and falling onto the bed. Ariadne comes out of the bathroom, hands defiant on her hips.
What if I don't choose Phoenix?
Then I guess you can call them in Oregon and see-
What if I don't choose Oregon either? Yusuf narrows his eyes at her, confused. Ariadne pulls the book from his hands and straddles his waist. What if I just choose you?