fic: 026. ink & 027. double & 029. roundabout
( ink ) G, 281 words, implied Cobb/Eames
Yusuf notices the tattoo on Eames' wrist.
The tattoo is dark on Eames' wrist, a stain that he forced into his skin for the most ridiculous reason. Even if he doesn’t hide it behind the face of his watch, no one will know what it means but those who speak the language. So imagine his surprise when one day, he goes and visits Yusuf for another batch of his sleep compound, and Yusuf says, “Cobb?” while handing him a cardboard box lined with glass bottles, four by three, and Eames almost drops it in his knee-jerk reaction.
“Pardon?” he asks, adjusting his grip, tucking it beneath his arm.
Yusuf gestures towards his wrist and smiles. “You’ve got dream written on your wrist in Hindi, Eames, how come I’ve never noticed this before?”
Eames fights to urge to cover it up, to put a hand over it and rub at the skin. He shrugs. “I’m usually wearing my watch. Guess I forgot it today,” he shakes his finger at Yusuf, plastering on a grin, “can’t do business if I have a tattoo, people wouldn’t take me seriously. And,” he flashes Yusuf a look of warning, “then they’ll try to frame me in dream-sharing.”
Yusuf puts a finger over his mouth. “My lips are sealed, my friend, you know that I won’t say anything.”
Eames nods, pulls the sleeve of his jacket over his wrist. “Of course, mate. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you. See you in,” he glances down at the box, “say, a month or two?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Eames leaves in a whirlwind of barely concealed panic, making his way through Mombasa like it’s his most played game, all the paths ingrained into his brain.
( double ) G, 245 words, something like Arthur/Cobb and a faraway Cobb/Eames
College!AU, Eames lives another life as Handsome Bob.
“There he is,” sighs Cobb, sounding like a love sick puppy and Eames grimaces. He follows Cobb’s line of sight to spot Arthur across the room with his hands in his slacks, hunched over like the nerd he is.
Honestly.
“Honestly,” he repeats out loud and turns back to Cobb who is still tracking Arthur with his eyes, “Nick, we’ve talked about this before. If you’re gonna go for Arthur then I’d have to terminate our friendship immediately.”
“And I told you that if you call me Nick again, I’ll slam you against the nearest surface and make you my bitch,” replies Cobb, not even bothering to look at him as he makes the threat.
The nerve of him.
“Well, if you want to chase skinny boys and bossy girls, then count me out. I’m gonna hit the courts.”
“Basketball?” asks Cobb, suddenly paying attention, perking up and looking at Eames with his doe blue eyes. “I wanna play.”
“What you want doesn’t matter because I know for a fact that you have a paper due in two days and all you have is a bunch of dusty books on your desk.”
“Traitor,” scowls Cobb and Eames shrugs, walking off. Sure enough, Cobb doesn’t follow, he probably went off, sulking, to their shared room and Eames breathes a sigh of relief. He makes for the courts catching the sight of two familiar faces.
“One Two! Mumbles!” he calls, and they grin, waving back.
“Handsome Bob!”
( roundabout ) PG, 256 words, Arthur/Cobb/Eames
Ariadne comes to Arthur for relationship advice.
Ariadne comes to Arthur for help. She tells him about her dilemma; how it's just not working out with her and her boyfriend, how she doesn't know why because they like each other, they enjoy one another's company but they seem to be butting heads all the time.
Arthur nods through the whole talk, making notes in his notebook like he's a psychiatrist and Ariadne is his patient.
"How do you guys work?" she asks after she's finished and Arthur raises his eyebrows at her.
"Excuse me?"
"You. Cobb. Eames. You guys are together, right? You seem to be getting along fine."
Arthur narrows his eyes and puts down his pen and book. "Our relationship is about compromise and attention to detail."
"So, being aware of each other?"
"Something like that. Best way to describe it as a give and take method."
"Give and take," repeats Ariadne, sounding confused.
"Yes. I give and Cobb takes. Following this? Eames gives and Cobb takes. Understand now?"
"Do you or Eames ever take, does Cobb ever give?"
"Sure," says Arthur, smiling, and there's a hint of something that makes Ariadne suspicious. "We take turns. That's how a relationship works. Give and take. Except," he shrugs, averting his eyes, lips curling up into a near smirk, "Cobb really loves to take. We understand that, so we give it to him a lot."
"Oh my God," shouts Ariadne, looking horrified as she gets the joke, standing up so fast the chair clatters to the floor. "Arthur!"
Arthur just bursts into laughter.
Yusuf notices the tattoo on Eames' wrist.
The tattoo is dark on Eames' wrist, a stain that he forced into his skin for the most ridiculous reason. Even if he doesn’t hide it behind the face of his watch, no one will know what it means but those who speak the language. So imagine his surprise when one day, he goes and visits Yusuf for another batch of his sleep compound, and Yusuf says, “Cobb?” while handing him a cardboard box lined with glass bottles, four by three, and Eames almost drops it in his knee-jerk reaction.
“Pardon?” he asks, adjusting his grip, tucking it beneath his arm.
Yusuf gestures towards his wrist and smiles. “You’ve got dream written on your wrist in Hindi, Eames, how come I’ve never noticed this before?”
Eames fights to urge to cover it up, to put a hand over it and rub at the skin. He shrugs. “I’m usually wearing my watch. Guess I forgot it today,” he shakes his finger at Yusuf, plastering on a grin, “can’t do business if I have a tattoo, people wouldn’t take me seriously. And,” he flashes Yusuf a look of warning, “then they’ll try to frame me in dream-sharing.”
Yusuf puts a finger over his mouth. “My lips are sealed, my friend, you know that I won’t say anything.”
Eames nods, pulls the sleeve of his jacket over his wrist. “Of course, mate. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you. See you in,” he glances down at the box, “say, a month or two?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Eames leaves in a whirlwind of barely concealed panic, making his way through Mombasa like it’s his most played game, all the paths ingrained into his brain.
( double ) G, 245 words, something like Arthur/Cobb and a faraway Cobb/Eames
College!AU, Eames lives another life as Handsome Bob.
“There he is,” sighs Cobb, sounding like a love sick puppy and Eames grimaces. He follows Cobb’s line of sight to spot Arthur across the room with his hands in his slacks, hunched over like the nerd he is.
Honestly.
“Honestly,” he repeats out loud and turns back to Cobb who is still tracking Arthur with his eyes, “Nick, we’ve talked about this before. If you’re gonna go for Arthur then I’d have to terminate our friendship immediately.”
“And I told you that if you call me Nick again, I’ll slam you against the nearest surface and make you my bitch,” replies Cobb, not even bothering to look at him as he makes the threat.
The nerve of him.
“Well, if you want to chase skinny boys and bossy girls, then count me out. I’m gonna hit the courts.”
“Basketball?” asks Cobb, suddenly paying attention, perking up and looking at Eames with his doe blue eyes. “I wanna play.”
“What you want doesn’t matter because I know for a fact that you have a paper due in two days and all you have is a bunch of dusty books on your desk.”
“Traitor,” scowls Cobb and Eames shrugs, walking off. Sure enough, Cobb doesn’t follow, he probably went off, sulking, to their shared room and Eames breathes a sigh of relief. He makes for the courts catching the sight of two familiar faces.
“One Two! Mumbles!” he calls, and they grin, waving back.
“Handsome Bob!”
( roundabout ) PG, 256 words, Arthur/Cobb/Eames
Ariadne comes to Arthur for relationship advice.
Ariadne comes to Arthur for help. She tells him about her dilemma; how it's just not working out with her and her boyfriend, how she doesn't know why because they like each other, they enjoy one another's company but they seem to be butting heads all the time.
Arthur nods through the whole talk, making notes in his notebook like he's a psychiatrist and Ariadne is his patient.
"How do you guys work?" she asks after she's finished and Arthur raises his eyebrows at her.
"Excuse me?"
"You. Cobb. Eames. You guys are together, right? You seem to be getting along fine."
Arthur narrows his eyes and puts down his pen and book. "Our relationship is about compromise and attention to detail."
"So, being aware of each other?"
"Something like that. Best way to describe it as a give and take method."
"Give and take," repeats Ariadne, sounding confused.
"Yes. I give and Cobb takes. Following this? Eames gives and Cobb takes. Understand now?"
"Do you or Eames ever take, does Cobb ever give?"
"Sure," says Arthur, smiling, and there's a hint of something that makes Ariadne suspicious. "We take turns. That's how a relationship works. Give and take. Except," he shrugs, averting his eyes, lips curling up into a near smirk, "Cobb really loves to take. We understand that, so we give it to him a lot."
"Oh my God," shouts Ariadne, looking horrified as she gets the joke, standing up so fast the chair clatters to the floor. "Arthur!"
Arthur just bursts into laughter.