Good Time
Title: Good time
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: SAFE
Warning: none
Wordcount: 584
Note: Partecipa alla M2 "Something blue" per la terza settimana del COW-T 5 di maridichallenge
Summary:
"Can you think of a better way to greet the new year?"
"Of course I can. Easily," Arthur said, eyes flickering towards Eames. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and Eames knew that he was trying not to smile. "Two glasses of red wine and twelve hours of solid sleep, for example."
-
"A party, huh?" Arthur said, typing away at something on his laptop.
"Yes," Eames answered, hopping up to sit on Arthur's desk with a grin. "I mean, can you think of a better way to greet the new year?"
"Of course I can. Easily," Arthur said, eyes flickering towards Eames. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and Eames knew that he was trying not to smile. "Two glasses of red wine and twelve hours of solid sleep, for example."
"Luxurious," Eames said, and couldn't help but feel a little pang of guilt in his gut. Their last job had been a mess, and nobody got much rest while they were working on it - aside from the time that they had to be asleep to pull it off, of course - and Arthur as usual was probably the one who got to relax the least.
"Ditch the party and join me?" Arthur asked, voice low and suggestive.
Eames felt a shiver run down his spine. The thing that they had was still unnamed, but whatever it was, it lighted Eames' blood on fire whenever Arthur got that note in his voice.
After all that time they spent working together, it felt like ages since Eames had started to flirt with Arthur to piss him off at first, and then to hide and showcase his feelings towards the point man, to the point that Eames didn't actually think that Arthur would ever feel something back. But he did; and he did with such a straightforward clarity, that it actually swept Eames off his feet a little.
"Tempting," Eames admitted. "But it's been a while since I've seen the guys. I wanted you to meet them, too."
Arthur finally turned to him. "The guys? Your friends from art school?"
Eames couldn't say if Arthur's tone meant that he was interested or disappointed, but he was still pleased that Arthur remembered them.
"Yes. I thought that I could show you off a little," Eames joked. "You being the Arthur and everything."
"You're such a dick, mister Eames," Arthur deadpanned, pretend-exasperated, but his dark eyes betrayed his amusement.
"If you don't come, everybody will want to know what I've learned from you, and I'm going to fuck up so badly because I can't do jack shit of what you do."
"Oh, the horror."
"And it'll turn into a show-and-tell slash pissing contest about militarization techniques and paradox construction, and then there'll be a fight, and then a shared dream with not less than fifty people."
"Have fun with that."
"And everybody will go home with a sickening PASIV-induced hangover."
"You know you're not supposed to mix alcohol and somnacin-based compounds."
"I know, but are they going to remember it?" Eamed mock-complained. "Come on darling, come with me?"
"If really you insist so much," Arthur conceded with an exaggerated sigh, finally closing his laptop and starting to gather his things. "But you're going to explain to Guinevere why I'm suddenly ditching her for my boyfriend."
"Is Guinevere your sofa?" Eames smiled, pulling Arthur closer when he got up.
"Don't be silly," Arthur said, mindlessly running his hands along Eames' arms. "She's my corkscrew."
"Was that a pun? Are you growing a funny bone, Arthur? That was terrible."
"It wasn't terrible enough, if it didn't make you want to shut me up," Arthur said, his eyes dark.
Eames got the hint, and kissed him deeply, feeling Arthur's smile against his lips and his arms wrapping around his neck.
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: SAFE
Warning: none
Wordcount: 584
Note: Partecipa alla M2 "Something blue" per la terza settimana del COW-T 5 di maridichallenge
Summary:
"Can you think of a better way to greet the new year?"
"Of course I can. Easily," Arthur said, eyes flickering towards Eames. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and Eames knew that he was trying not to smile. "Two glasses of red wine and twelve hours of solid sleep, for example."
-
"A party, huh?" Arthur said, typing away at something on his laptop.
"Yes," Eames answered, hopping up to sit on Arthur's desk with a grin. "I mean, can you think of a better way to greet the new year?"
"Of course I can. Easily," Arthur said, eyes flickering towards Eames. A muscle jumped in his cheek, and Eames knew that he was trying not to smile. "Two glasses of red wine and twelve hours of solid sleep, for example."
"Luxurious," Eames said, and couldn't help but feel a little pang of guilt in his gut. Their last job had been a mess, and nobody got much rest while they were working on it - aside from the time that they had to be asleep to pull it off, of course - and Arthur as usual was probably the one who got to relax the least.
"Ditch the party and join me?" Arthur asked, voice low and suggestive.
Eames felt a shiver run down his spine. The thing that they had was still unnamed, but whatever it was, it lighted Eames' blood on fire whenever Arthur got that note in his voice.
After all that time they spent working together, it felt like ages since Eames had started to flirt with Arthur to piss him off at first, and then to hide and showcase his feelings towards the point man, to the point that Eames didn't actually think that Arthur would ever feel something back. But he did; and he did with such a straightforward clarity, that it actually swept Eames off his feet a little.
"Tempting," Eames admitted. "But it's been a while since I've seen the guys. I wanted you to meet them, too."
Arthur finally turned to him. "The guys? Your friends from art school?"
Eames couldn't say if Arthur's tone meant that he was interested or disappointed, but he was still pleased that Arthur remembered them.
"Yes. I thought that I could show you off a little," Eames joked. "You being the Arthur and everything."
"You're such a dick, mister Eames," Arthur deadpanned, pretend-exasperated, but his dark eyes betrayed his amusement.
"If you don't come, everybody will want to know what I've learned from you, and I'm going to fuck up so badly because I can't do jack shit of what you do."
"Oh, the horror."
"And it'll turn into a show-and-tell slash pissing contest about militarization techniques and paradox construction, and then there'll be a fight, and then a shared dream with not less than fifty people."
"Have fun with that."
"And everybody will go home with a sickening PASIV-induced hangover."
"You know you're not supposed to mix alcohol and somnacin-based compounds."
"I know, but are they going to remember it?" Eamed mock-complained. "Come on darling, come with me?"
"If really you insist so much," Arthur conceded with an exaggerated sigh, finally closing his laptop and starting to gather his things. "But you're going to explain to Guinevere why I'm suddenly ditching her for my boyfriend."
"Is Guinevere your sofa?" Eames smiled, pulling Arthur closer when he got up.
"Don't be silly," Arthur said, mindlessly running his hands along Eames' arms. "She's my corkscrew."
"Was that a pun? Are you growing a funny bone, Arthur? That was terrible."
"It wasn't terrible enough, if it didn't make you want to shut me up," Arthur said, his eyes dark.
Eames got the hint, and kissed him deeply, feeling Arthur's smile against his lips and his arms wrapping around his neck.