Fic: Ducks in a Pond (Inception)
Title: Ducks in a Pond
Pairing: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1200
Warnings: None, egregious fluff
Summary: They meet every day at the dog park (for the inception meme). Very cheesy and Disney-inspired.
Lex was formerly an explosive detection dog for the military, and it comes out sometimes in the way he eyes squirrels. Right now he's up curled on the carpet, looking pathetically lonely and putting his head on Arthur’s knees.
He’s off and out the door, barking and wagging happily, as soon as Arthur manages to put a leash on him.
*
Arthur thought his military career would be over after the crash in Afghanistan, and it took six months in a VA hospital to recover; he's lucky he could still walk, let alone walk away from something like that. Still, it’s strange to be stateside again, with months of physical therapy ahead of him and working in research instead of dodging bombs and gunfire. He dutifully takes long walks in the park, but then sneaks over and sits on one of the benches in front of the lake, idly sketching ideas from work-weapons schematics, data mining satellite imagery.
He’s always liked this park; it’s surprisingly quiet, particularly on weekday afternoons, despite its proximity to government labs. Now, though, he hears a peal of laughter; a petite girl with a colorful scarf on the lawn behind him is throwing a football with what seems like unnecessary force at a guy who appears to know nothing about catching a football.
"Ow!"
"That was a perfect throw, Eames," the girl yells, "Come on!"
"Ariadne, you’re killing me," the guy protests; his voice is rounded and soft on the vowels, an English accent. She laughs and hits him again.
*
Arthur’s schedule is simple: he walks a few miles with Lex in the morning and then comes in the afternoon. The early spring chill doesn't bother him as much so he forgets a coat as often as not, just drawing schematics and architecture for work.
English comes to the park very often, almost every day, seemingly to look out onto the water and sketch. Sometimes he's with other people; Arthur sees him sometimes with another guy with crazy hair, smoking and talking animatedly.
Today he's throwing a football again with the girl with the scarf, who pretty much brains him each time; it’s funny to watch.
*
When he looks up next it’s late in the afternoon, and he realizes the pair is walking away, chatting. The girl kisses him on the cheek and they part. The guy makes eye contact with Arthur as he walks away and smiles, briefly; he was movie-star handsome, with coppery brown hair and a playful looking mouth.
Lex follows the movements, not-subtly giving English a sharp, focused eye, as he leaves.
"Alright, buddy, no scaring strangers," Arthur says, efficiently clipping the leash; the Doberman whines and looks at him sharply and determinedly, then jerks the other way.
"Lex--Lex, what are you doing," Arthur manages, as the Doberman darts out; he grabs the leash, almost too late, as Lex scrambles after the guy. "Hey! Slow down, Lex!" just as he catches up.
His dog makes a sharp turn and snaps at the man, then circles around him, winding the leash around both of them unexpectedly fast.
"What on--" the guy says, jerking back in surprise as he was suddenly flush with Arthur.
"Oh, I'm so sorry--" Arthur stammers, struggling back and stumbling.
"Oh, I think your dog is--" the man manages, tripping over the leash, and then that was pretty much it as Lex gives one more frustrated jerk and they both topple into the lake, tangled up together.
*
Arthur jerks out of the water, breathless, and the guy is sputtering too; the water is shallow, but they're both drenched.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, can I give you a hand? I don't know what's, he's never acted this way before, I’m sorry--" Arthur manages.
He stops apologizing when he realizes the man is laughing at his dripping button-down, which was also ruined by tumbling into the lake. "Okay, now I'm not sorry."
He must be glaring fiercely, because the guy looks sheepish and manages, "No, I apologize--I was just surprised, I tripped-" struggling out of the water. "I'm fine but you're dressed much nicer. Is your jacket going to be alright?"
This close, he's bright-eyed, roguish; Arthur has to hold back something slightly hysterical. They're scaring the hell out of the ducks, who are flapping over to one side of the lake and looking over, fluffing their feathers disapprovingly at the sight of them, dripping wet.
They stagger onto the banks of the grass, drying off; Lex shakes vigorously as he scrambles from the water, friendly and tail-waggy again, and Arthur determinedly tries to wrench his cuffs and get the worst of it out. Lex is circling and sniffing industriously; the guy just laughed and lets the dog nose him until he pulls out some slightly soggy dog treats. He wrestles with Lex until the dog whined and sprawled on the grass, tail thumping, gnawing contentedly.
"Dogs seem to have a six sense about these things, don’t they?" the guy jokes, easily. He's smiling; his hair was no longer coppery from the sun but now just dark, wet, slicked and curling against the back of his neck. Arthur swallows, and his heart flutters to a stop. Their eyes meet, the start of something new.
*
The guy’s name is Eames. He’s charming and chatty and he loves dogs.
*
"Drop back, pump fake, and then throw the ball," Arthur says; the football travels in a perfect, neat spiral across the grass, against the backdrop of reddened leaves and gusty fall breezes. It's been a few months now, he can walk easily, maybe run a few miles, more if he really wanted to--but he finds himself spending more and more time on the lawns in the park, watching Eames like he does now, as he catches the football and walks over.
"Okay. I think I can do that," he says, starting to throw.
"Hey, no, wait, you’re, you’re already telegraphing," Arthur says, brushing his fingers across his shoulder and taking the ball in one neat movement.
"How are you going to show up Ariadne?" he teases, "Here, watch me, follow what I do." He holds the ball straight out in front of him. "Hold the ball with me. You want about a three quarters' release--" He backs up. Eames is behind him and their fingers are entwined on the football. He’s working in Eames’ embrace, hyperaware of the way his arms feels around his shoulders, the press of his body, wrapped gently around his. Arthur can feel his heartbeat in the hollow of his shoulder blade; a shiver curls at the bottom of his spine. And...
Arthur jerks away. "Eames! Is that-"
"Sorry, sweetheart," Eames says in his ear, stifling a laugh.
"Can we concentrate on football, please?" Arthur turns and gives him an exasperated look.
Eames is smirking as he takes the football and throws it; it’s one smooth arc across the grass, much better than last time, and Lex, who had been prancing around underfoot, dashes off for it excitedly. Arthur swallows, not taking his eyes off Eames. "That’s um. Better. I mean, it’s good," he manages.
"Yeah?"
They’re standing very close; Eames looks at him like he knows exactly what Arthur’s thinking, eyes dipping briefly, a quirk playing at the corner of his mouth; Arthur suppresses a smile, takes one shared breath and closes the space between them with a kiss.
Pairing: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1200
Warnings: None, egregious fluff
Summary: They meet every day at the dog park (for the inception meme). Very cheesy and Disney-inspired.
Lex was formerly an explosive detection dog for the military, and it comes out sometimes in the way he eyes squirrels. Right now he's up curled on the carpet, looking pathetically lonely and putting his head on Arthur’s knees.
He’s off and out the door, barking and wagging happily, as soon as Arthur manages to put a leash on him.
*
Arthur thought his military career would be over after the crash in Afghanistan, and it took six months in a VA hospital to recover; he's lucky he could still walk, let alone walk away from something like that. Still, it’s strange to be stateside again, with months of physical therapy ahead of him and working in research instead of dodging bombs and gunfire. He dutifully takes long walks in the park, but then sneaks over and sits on one of the benches in front of the lake, idly sketching ideas from work-weapons schematics, data mining satellite imagery.
He’s always liked this park; it’s surprisingly quiet, particularly on weekday afternoons, despite its proximity to government labs. Now, though, he hears a peal of laughter; a petite girl with a colorful scarf on the lawn behind him is throwing a football with what seems like unnecessary force at a guy who appears to know nothing about catching a football.
"Ow!"
"That was a perfect throw, Eames," the girl yells, "Come on!"
"Ariadne, you’re killing me," the guy protests; his voice is rounded and soft on the vowels, an English accent. She laughs and hits him again.
*
Arthur’s schedule is simple: he walks a few miles with Lex in the morning and then comes in the afternoon. The early spring chill doesn't bother him as much so he forgets a coat as often as not, just drawing schematics and architecture for work.
English comes to the park very often, almost every day, seemingly to look out onto the water and sketch. Sometimes he's with other people; Arthur sees him sometimes with another guy with crazy hair, smoking and talking animatedly.
Today he's throwing a football again with the girl with the scarf, who pretty much brains him each time; it’s funny to watch.
*
When he looks up next it’s late in the afternoon, and he realizes the pair is walking away, chatting. The girl kisses him on the cheek and they part. The guy makes eye contact with Arthur as he walks away and smiles, briefly; he was movie-star handsome, with coppery brown hair and a playful looking mouth.
Lex follows the movements, not-subtly giving English a sharp, focused eye, as he leaves.
"Alright, buddy, no scaring strangers," Arthur says, efficiently clipping the leash; the Doberman whines and looks at him sharply and determinedly, then jerks the other way.
"Lex--Lex, what are you doing," Arthur manages, as the Doberman darts out; he grabs the leash, almost too late, as Lex scrambles after the guy. "Hey! Slow down, Lex!" just as he catches up.
His dog makes a sharp turn and snaps at the man, then circles around him, winding the leash around both of them unexpectedly fast.
"What on--" the guy says, jerking back in surprise as he was suddenly flush with Arthur.
"Oh, I'm so sorry--" Arthur stammers, struggling back and stumbling.
"Oh, I think your dog is--" the man manages, tripping over the leash, and then that was pretty much it as Lex gives one more frustrated jerk and they both topple into the lake, tangled up together.
*
Arthur jerks out of the water, breathless, and the guy is sputtering too; the water is shallow, but they're both drenched.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, can I give you a hand? I don't know what's, he's never acted this way before, I’m sorry--" Arthur manages.
He stops apologizing when he realizes the man is laughing at his dripping button-down, which was also ruined by tumbling into the lake. "Okay, now I'm not sorry."
He must be glaring fiercely, because the guy looks sheepish and manages, "No, I apologize--I was just surprised, I tripped-" struggling out of the water. "I'm fine but you're dressed much nicer. Is your jacket going to be alright?"
This close, he's bright-eyed, roguish; Arthur has to hold back something slightly hysterical. They're scaring the hell out of the ducks, who are flapping over to one side of the lake and looking over, fluffing their feathers disapprovingly at the sight of them, dripping wet.
They stagger onto the banks of the grass, drying off; Lex shakes vigorously as he scrambles from the water, friendly and tail-waggy again, and Arthur determinedly tries to wrench his cuffs and get the worst of it out. Lex is circling and sniffing industriously; the guy just laughed and lets the dog nose him until he pulls out some slightly soggy dog treats. He wrestles with Lex until the dog whined and sprawled on the grass, tail thumping, gnawing contentedly.
"Dogs seem to have a six sense about these things, don’t they?" the guy jokes, easily. He's smiling; his hair was no longer coppery from the sun but now just dark, wet, slicked and curling against the back of his neck. Arthur swallows, and his heart flutters to a stop. Their eyes meet, the start of something new.
*
The guy’s name is Eames. He’s charming and chatty and he loves dogs.
*
"Drop back, pump fake, and then throw the ball," Arthur says; the football travels in a perfect, neat spiral across the grass, against the backdrop of reddened leaves and gusty fall breezes. It's been a few months now, he can walk easily, maybe run a few miles, more if he really wanted to--but he finds himself spending more and more time on the lawns in the park, watching Eames like he does now, as he catches the football and walks over.
"Okay. I think I can do that," he says, starting to throw.
"Hey, no, wait, you’re, you’re already telegraphing," Arthur says, brushing his fingers across his shoulder and taking the ball in one neat movement.
"How are you going to show up Ariadne?" he teases, "Here, watch me, follow what I do." He holds the ball straight out in front of him. "Hold the ball with me. You want about a three quarters' release--" He backs up. Eames is behind him and their fingers are entwined on the football. He’s working in Eames’ embrace, hyperaware of the way his arms feels around his shoulders, the press of his body, wrapped gently around his. Arthur can feel his heartbeat in the hollow of his shoulder blade; a shiver curls at the bottom of his spine. And...
Arthur jerks away. "Eames! Is that-"
"Sorry, sweetheart," Eames says in his ear, stifling a laugh.
"Can we concentrate on football, please?" Arthur turns and gives him an exasperated look.
Eames is smirking as he takes the football and throws it; it’s one smooth arc across the grass, much better than last time, and Lex, who had been prancing around underfoot, dashes off for it excitedly. Arthur swallows, not taking his eyes off Eames. "That’s um. Better. I mean, it’s good," he manages.
"Yeah?"
They’re standing very close; Eames looks at him like he knows exactly what Arthur’s thinking, eyes dipping briefly, a quirk playing at the corner of his mouth; Arthur suppresses a smile, takes one shared breath and closes the space between them with a kiss.