We Used to Wait - Art Masterpost
Title: We Used to Wait
Author: chibi_lurrel
Artist: dumbimps
Type: slash, het
Rating: PG-13 for kissing and a bare leg or two
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Eames, Arthur/Cobb, Arthur/Mal
Comments: inception_bang challenge for chibi_lurrel's big bang here. Thank you so much for putting up with me, Lurrel! I have not been the most diligent artist, but I'm glad I had the opportunity to work with you. You're awesome ♥
Cobb finally gets a good look. There are straps, holding down what appears to be a teenager. There are cords attached to him at all parts, but especially around his head, where something looks to be plugged in. The screen is the only light inside, and that combined with the haze of the glass makes it hard to discern any features.
“He’s connected directly,” Miles says, as though that’s a clue, and the screen begins to shift.
---
It would be worth any price, he decides firmly as the kid walks - no, he saunters - out of the dressing room in a burgundy dress shirt, skinny black tie, black vest, and suspenders with little gold snaps. His pants fit his slim hips, and he has the jacket slung jauntily over his shoulder. And he’s changed, again, somehow. He is exuding confidence as he steps onto a platform in front of a three paneled mirror.
“What do you think? I think I’m good at being a suave motherfucker.” Arthur twirls, and the employee looks somewhat amused. He slips the jacket on and the twitchy kid looks like an attractive man, the clothes fit him like a second skin.
---
“Maybe you trust me too much,” Cobb says softly, his face too close to Arthur’s. He feels Arthur’s muscles stiffen below him, rigid in the chair he’s tied to. Arthur is silent, so Cobb kisses him.
Arthur reacts immediately, whole body tensing and straining up up up against the ropes and toward Cobb’s mouth. He blossoms, cheeks reddening.
Arthur’s mouth is wet when Cobb pulls back.
---
“Mal,” he says, more of a sigh, and she moves behind him.
“What is it, Arthur?” she purrs into his ear, and slides her hands down his arms, notching her fingers between his. The spoon he was using sinks forgotten into the stew.
---
Arthur leaves the door open and Dom watches his reflection as he carefully cuts away a rectangular strip of flesh behind his ear, and pulls it out. Blood pours into the white towel stuffed around Arthur’s neck and he pats some of it away to reveal gleaming titanium.
There are holes there, within the bloody clearing Arthur’s made, holes fit for various wires. Plugs, Dom thinks, and remembers they go straight to Arthur’s brain.
---
He spies Arthur and Eames through the glass door, smoking in his yard, and he tries hard to swallow back his anger that they’re in his house at all. Eames is in the most nondescript clothing he’s ever seen him wear - black t-shirt stretched over his chest and jeans. Arthur is out of his uniform and in some slacks, a white button up that hangs loose. The sleeves are rolled up.
---
Phillipa grins shyly as she presents him a cookie iced with a tie and a collared shirt.
“It’s an Uncle Arthur cookie,” she says and smiles and he ruffles her hair and thinks maybe today, maybe Mal will snap out of it today.
---
The night Mal jumps, Arthur and Eames are celebrating a successful two-man job by buying an entire bottle of champagne and watching the sunset from the top level of the Tour Eifel in Paris. It’s too many Euros, and they’re surrounded by too many tourists, but they clink plastic glasses together and kiss. Some people clap around them, hooting and caught up in their sheer exhilaration.
---
“You don’t remember how you got this?” Eames says, running a thumb over the scar that wraps from Arthur’s thigh to the side of his right knee. He traces it to the side of Arthur’s patella, right in the joint, and presses down, slowly increasing the pressure.
Author: chibi_lurrel
Artist: dumbimps
Type: slash, het
Rating: PG-13 for kissing and a bare leg or two
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Eames, Arthur/Cobb, Arthur/Mal
Comments: inception_bang challenge for chibi_lurrel's big bang here. Thank you so much for putting up with me, Lurrel! I have not been the most diligent artist, but I'm glad I had the opportunity to work with you. You're awesome ♥
Cobb finally gets a good look. There are straps, holding down what appears to be a teenager. There are cords attached to him at all parts, but especially around his head, where something looks to be plugged in. The screen is the only light inside, and that combined with the haze of the glass makes it hard to discern any features.
“He’s connected directly,” Miles says, as though that’s a clue, and the screen begins to shift.
---
It would be worth any price, he decides firmly as the kid walks - no, he saunters - out of the dressing room in a burgundy dress shirt, skinny black tie, black vest, and suspenders with little gold snaps. His pants fit his slim hips, and he has the jacket slung jauntily over his shoulder. And he’s changed, again, somehow. He is exuding confidence as he steps onto a platform in front of a three paneled mirror.
“What do you think? I think I’m good at being a suave motherfucker.” Arthur twirls, and the employee looks somewhat amused. He slips the jacket on and the twitchy kid looks like an attractive man, the clothes fit him like a second skin.
---
“Maybe you trust me too much,” Cobb says softly, his face too close to Arthur’s. He feels Arthur’s muscles stiffen below him, rigid in the chair he’s tied to. Arthur is silent, so Cobb kisses him.
Arthur reacts immediately, whole body tensing and straining up up up against the ropes and toward Cobb’s mouth. He blossoms, cheeks reddening.
Arthur’s mouth is wet when Cobb pulls back.
---
“Mal,” he says, more of a sigh, and she moves behind him.
“What is it, Arthur?” she purrs into his ear, and slides her hands down his arms, notching her fingers between his. The spoon he was using sinks forgotten into the stew.
---
Arthur leaves the door open and Dom watches his reflection as he carefully cuts away a rectangular strip of flesh behind his ear, and pulls it out. Blood pours into the white towel stuffed around Arthur’s neck and he pats some of it away to reveal gleaming titanium.
There are holes there, within the bloody clearing Arthur’s made, holes fit for various wires. Plugs, Dom thinks, and remembers they go straight to Arthur’s brain.
---
He spies Arthur and Eames through the glass door, smoking in his yard, and he tries hard to swallow back his anger that they’re in his house at all. Eames is in the most nondescript clothing he’s ever seen him wear - black t-shirt stretched over his chest and jeans. Arthur is out of his uniform and in some slacks, a white button up that hangs loose. The sleeves are rolled up.
---
Phillipa grins shyly as she presents him a cookie iced with a tie and a collared shirt.
“It’s an Uncle Arthur cookie,” she says and smiles and he ruffles her hair and thinks maybe today, maybe Mal will snap out of it today.
---
The night Mal jumps, Arthur and Eames are celebrating a successful two-man job by buying an entire bottle of champagne and watching the sunset from the top level of the Tour Eifel in Paris. It’s too many Euros, and they’re surrounded by too many tourists, but they clink plastic glasses together and kiss. Some people clap around them, hooting and caught up in their sheer exhilaration.
---
“You don’t remember how you got this?” Eames says, running a thumb over the scar that wraps from Arthur’s thigh to the side of his right knee. He traces it to the side of Arthur’s patella, right in the joint, and presses down, slowly increasing the pressure.