Inception fic: Lost Where I Belong, NC-17.
I see a movie and what happens? I start devouring fanfic and then starting to write my own. And on top of that, I have an OTP and OT3. ::facepalm::
Oh, brain. I can't even be mad. :)
Title: Lost Where I Belong
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: I'm borrowing Nolan's toys to write this. I'll give them back when I'm done!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. My first "Inception" fic, and I've only seen it once. Written for the "insomnia" box on my
hc_bingo card.
Summary: I'm trying to keep the world from crashing in.
Cobb was right. Once Ariadne had built something in the dreamscape, building something in real life didn't feel the same.
Oh, it wasn't as if building things didn't matter anymore. If anything, she was that much more determined to finish her degree and get out there to do something. But it was a restlessness now; the real world was too slow, filled with too much paperwork. She could see in her dreams the way things should go, the way the buildings looked perfect, and how everything she had ever planned looked absolutely gorgeous. Sometimes she almost felt half asleep while she was going through the day, as if this was the dream world, as if she was walking through ether that was made from someone's projection. But the chess piece in her pocket was a solid weight, and it tipped over every time. She was awake, going through the motions as everyone around her assumed that this was the only reality there was to be had.
She was the one to call Arthur first. She didn't think that there was anything there between them, but he was always cordial on the phone and he understood what she was going through. Eames might have also, but he was harder to track down and everything was flippant with him. Ariadne had seen a whole new universe to play in, to build in, to create in, and normal physics just wasn't enough. Arthur seemed to understand that, and didn't mock her frustration with the real world. It never seemed to matter what time she called him. He was always awake, always sounding unruffled and in control. Cobb had been easy enough to read, once she knew what to look for. Arthur was smooth, no chinks in his armor that she could see. Maybe that was another reason why she was fascinated by him. Even during the Fischer Job, when he seemed rattled, there had been a core of control there. It made her wonder what would make him crack, what would cause his carefully constructed walls to come crashing down. And maybe, deep down, she wondered if he had instigated that kiss in the dream because he wanted to know what it was like. He could easily lie and say that it meant nothing, that it was just a failed ruse.
Or maybe she was the one making a bigger deal out of that kiss than she should be.
"What time is it there?" she asked suddenly during one of her phone calls to Arthur. She hadn't checked what time she had called, but it had to be late.
"Three am," was his crisp reply.
"Did I wake you?"
"No, I was awake. Doing research."
Ariadne blinked. "You have another job coming up."
"Maybe. I'm not sure, but I like to be prepared." That sounded like Arthur, but there was an undercurrent in his voice that she couldn't place. If she didn't know any better, she would have said that he was tired.
"Do you ever sleep?" she asked quietly, not sure why she was asking.
There was a slight pause, and Ariadne thought she could almost hear the hitch in his breath. "Sometimes I do."
"Without the machines?"
"Was there a point to this call?" he asked instead of answering her question. It was meant to make her defensive. It was meant to rattle her.
She looked at the chess piece in hand, and put it down on her kitchen table. It fell.
"Do you need an architect?" she asked quietly. "I'm almost done here, and I need to do more."
"I'll meet you," he said, words slow and precise. Just like Arthur, Ariadne decided. She could imagine him still in his crisp linen suit, even if it was three am. "I'll be there after your last class, sitting on the front steps."
She didn't even ask how he knew when her last class let out. He had been the point man, after all. It had been his job to know details like that. She remembered some details about him, the crisp angles of his suit pants, the way his hair had been combed back, the feel of his lips pressed against hers, even if had only been a dream.
Her chess piece was heavy in her hand. "I'll find you," she promised.
***
In her dreams, he wore jeans and leather jackets and a smile that was just for her. In reality, Arthur wore dress slacks and a suit blazer that was perfectly coordinated. His hair was combed and he looked every inch a white collar professional. He would have blended into the background if she hadn't been looking at him, if he hadn't worn a red tie the same color as his totem. The bright splash of color was almost too much, and Ariadne clutched the chess piece in her pocket. Its weight was reassuring. This was real. He was here, and this was really happening. He was here.
They sat down at a cafe and ordered something to eat, as it was nearly dinnertime. For a moment, it seemed perfectly ordinary that she was sitting there and eating dinner with Arthur, as if he hadn't flown halfway across the world just to be with her. Though it wasn't for that reason, was it? She looked up at him, at the taut lines of his face. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"
"Did you need to discuss a job?" he asked in an even tone.
Ariadne leaned back slightly. "Need to? No. Want to? Absolutely."
He cracked a sliver of a smile at her clarification. "You miss the rush?"
"I miss the creation," she said, a wistful smile on her face. "I miss being part of something."
Arthur nearly frowned at his water glass. "You can do the creation, I'm sure of it. I'm not sure about the part of something bit."
"Who else is in on this?"
He looked up at her, expression unreadable. "Just me."
"Just the two of us?" she asked, surprise coloring her tone. "Then we should get started, shouldn't we?"
***
When Ariadne fell under, it was as if no time had passed at all. She half expected to see Eames or Yusuf, or even Cobb and Mal. But it was just her and Arthur, standing in the middle of a blasted desert landscape. "Where are we?"
"Time to create, Ariadne," he said, a challenge in his voice. "You have all the time in the world, and you can do whatever you want."
Almost instantly, the sand began to move and take shape. There were walls, doors, windows. Steep angles, harsh bends and tiny gaps between the buildings she was creating. Soon enough, harsh little faces were peering out of the windows, and the doorknobs were starting to rattle. Ariadne kept at it, standing beside Arthur, feeling his gaze fall upon her profile. He was watching her do this, watching how she looked when she concentrated, when she was starting to create a maze.
She turned to look at him abruptly, and a tower crashed and fell somewhere in the background. "Kiss me."
He blinked and for a moment looked startled. "What?" He shook his head. "Why should I do that?"
Ariadne grasped hold of his shirt, and there was a banging at the windows behind her. She yanked him close, and she could almost see her own reflection mirrored in his eyes. "Because this is what we've been dancing around, isn't it?"
She kissed him, and it felt as if her lips burned at the touch. Her tongue touched the seam of his lips and he almost didn't part his lips for her. Just when she was beginning to think this was a horrible idea, Arthur opened his mouth and slid his hands along her waist. The faces in the windows behind her fell silent, and the rattling doorknobs stopped jangling. Ariadne moved her hands up to grasp at his shoulders, to feel the skin above the shirt collar. Her body was pressed tight to his, and she thought she could almost feel his erection press up against her.
Almost as soon as Ariadne registered the sensation, Arthur pushed her back. His lips were parted, his eyes burning bright. His impeccable hair and clothes were mussed, and Ariadne suddenly wanted to just yank them off of his body. "What? Why did you stop?"
"We should be doing this while awake."
The words shot straight to Ariadne's groin. "Then let's wake up."
She could never remember afterward how they woke themselves up. It didn't matter; the next conscious thing she was aware of was Arthur's mouth pressed against hers and her hands sliding along his shirt to pull it out of his pants. For all that he was carefully put together, his clothes came apart easily and they were lying naked in her apartment living room, limbs twined and seeking constant contact. She was already damp for him, and his bare skin against hers was electric. His fingers ghosted over her skin, tangled in her hair and then moved down her side to trace the inside of her thigh. Ariadne pulled back from his kiss long enough to say "Come inside me," in a half groan, and she let out a sigh of contentment when he slid inside of her wet heat. Arthur's expression was almost strained when he pushed himself up above her to look at her face. "Goddammit, don't think," she groaned, reaching up to touch his shoulder. "Just feel me," Ariadne pleaded, arching into his touch. "God, you feel so good, Arthur, please..."
He moved slowly at first, methodically, almost driving her insane. The more she tried to pull him in closer or wrap her legs around his waist, the more teasing his strokes became. His eyes never left her face, taking in every last detail as he thrust into her. "Don't stop," she whined, arching up again and writhing beneath him. "Oh God, right there, Arthur, please, please, right there, please, that feels so good..."
She came, pulsing all around him, and only then did he speed up. He moved fast and hard, driving himself deeply inside of her. Ariadne might have let out a strangled moan of pleasure, she wasn't entirely sure. Her entire world narrowed until it was just Arthur, the way he felt and the way he was making her feel. Nothing else existed, and then he let out a groan before shuddering and nearly collapsing down on top of her. Ariadne held him tightly, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck.
"Is this why you keep calling me?" he asked, hands moving to tangle in her hair.
She smiled against his neck. "I was hoping. Is this why you keep answering?"
Arthur laughed softly. "I kept checking my totem. I didn't think... I couldn't figure out why you kept calling."
"There is no job, is there?"
He laughed again. "No, there isn't."
Ariadne pressed her lips against his neck. "Good."
He pulled back slightly to look at her. "Why is that a good thing?"
"I don't have class tomorrow." Her lips curled into a smile. "No reason to leave at all."
Arthur rolled onto his side and let his hand run along her torso. She slid her hand along his chest and trailed her fingers along his neck. "I can stay," he murmured.
Her smile was brilliant in the half light. "Wonderful. I've dreamt of this for a long time."
"Then how do you know this is real?"
She traced the dark circles under his eyes, then ran the ball of her thumb along his lower lip. "This is the real thing. I don't need to check."
He smiled in the face of her certainty and pulled her thumb between his lips, sucking gently on the skin and running his teeth over the edge of it. Her breath caught, and Arthur laughed. "Sleep, Ari. You look exhausted." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll watch over your dreams."
Ariadne shifted so that she settled on top of him, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. He played with her hair a bit, and that was nice and soothing, too. It dimly occurred to her as she was falling asleep that he was still wide awake. She groggily pushed herself up, which surprised him. "You don't sleep, do you?"
"Not without a PASIV," he murmured, curling a lock of her hair around his finger.
Ariadne frowned. "I thought that was just dreaming that goes away?"
"I just don't shut down."
A slow smile slid along Ariadne's face. "I think I know how to shut you down."
Whatever Arthur was going to say was silenced by the startled gasp he made when Ariadne closed her lips around his cock. She shivered when his fingers went down to touch the top of her head, imagining the look of bliss on his face. She ran her tongue along the shaft, occasionally licking him or sucking on him. He made a soft sound deep in his throat, his fingers flexing along her hair. She took him deep into her mouth, her lips curling into a smile around him when she could hear the soft helpless sounds he made. She sucked on him hard, a hand cupping his balls gently.
She leaned back and smiled at him after he came in her mouth. She swallowed him down, then crawled back over his limp form. "Tired enough now?" she asked, pressing her lips against his jaw.
He gave her a weak laugh. "Maybe."
Ariadne laughed and twined her arms around him. "Good night, Arthur," she murmured sleepily, giving his neck a sloppy kiss.
He slid his hand along her shoulders and held her close. "Good night."
They both slept, arms twined around each other and hearts beating in sync.
The End.
Oh, brain. I can't even be mad. :)
Title: Lost Where I Belong
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: I'm borrowing Nolan's toys to write this. I'll give them back when I'm done!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. My first "Inception" fic, and I've only seen it once. Written for the "insomnia" box on my
hc_bingo card.
Summary: I'm trying to keep the world from crashing in.
Cobb was right. Once Ariadne had built something in the dreamscape, building something in real life didn't feel the same.
Oh, it wasn't as if building things didn't matter anymore. If anything, she was that much more determined to finish her degree and get out there to do something. But it was a restlessness now; the real world was too slow, filled with too much paperwork. She could see in her dreams the way things should go, the way the buildings looked perfect, and how everything she had ever planned looked absolutely gorgeous. Sometimes she almost felt half asleep while she was going through the day, as if this was the dream world, as if she was walking through ether that was made from someone's projection. But the chess piece in her pocket was a solid weight, and it tipped over every time. She was awake, going through the motions as everyone around her assumed that this was the only reality there was to be had.
She was the one to call Arthur first. She didn't think that there was anything there between them, but he was always cordial on the phone and he understood what she was going through. Eames might have also, but he was harder to track down and everything was flippant with him. Ariadne had seen a whole new universe to play in, to build in, to create in, and normal physics just wasn't enough. Arthur seemed to understand that, and didn't mock her frustration with the real world. It never seemed to matter what time she called him. He was always awake, always sounding unruffled and in control. Cobb had been easy enough to read, once she knew what to look for. Arthur was smooth, no chinks in his armor that she could see. Maybe that was another reason why she was fascinated by him. Even during the Fischer Job, when he seemed rattled, there had been a core of control there. It made her wonder what would make him crack, what would cause his carefully constructed walls to come crashing down. And maybe, deep down, she wondered if he had instigated that kiss in the dream because he wanted to know what it was like. He could easily lie and say that it meant nothing, that it was just a failed ruse.
Or maybe she was the one making a bigger deal out of that kiss than she should be.
"What time is it there?" she asked suddenly during one of her phone calls to Arthur. She hadn't checked what time she had called, but it had to be late.
"Three am," was his crisp reply.
"Did I wake you?"
"No, I was awake. Doing research."
Ariadne blinked. "You have another job coming up."
"Maybe. I'm not sure, but I like to be prepared." That sounded like Arthur, but there was an undercurrent in his voice that she couldn't place. If she didn't know any better, she would have said that he was tired.
"Do you ever sleep?" she asked quietly, not sure why she was asking.
There was a slight pause, and Ariadne thought she could almost hear the hitch in his breath. "Sometimes I do."
"Without the machines?"
"Was there a point to this call?" he asked instead of answering her question. It was meant to make her defensive. It was meant to rattle her.
She looked at the chess piece in hand, and put it down on her kitchen table. It fell.
"Do you need an architect?" she asked quietly. "I'm almost done here, and I need to do more."
"I'll meet you," he said, words slow and precise. Just like Arthur, Ariadne decided. She could imagine him still in his crisp linen suit, even if it was three am. "I'll be there after your last class, sitting on the front steps."
She didn't even ask how he knew when her last class let out. He had been the point man, after all. It had been his job to know details like that. She remembered some details about him, the crisp angles of his suit pants, the way his hair had been combed back, the feel of his lips pressed against hers, even if had only been a dream.
Her chess piece was heavy in her hand. "I'll find you," she promised.
***
In her dreams, he wore jeans and leather jackets and a smile that was just for her. In reality, Arthur wore dress slacks and a suit blazer that was perfectly coordinated. His hair was combed and he looked every inch a white collar professional. He would have blended into the background if she hadn't been looking at him, if he hadn't worn a red tie the same color as his totem. The bright splash of color was almost too much, and Ariadne clutched the chess piece in her pocket. Its weight was reassuring. This was real. He was here, and this was really happening. He was here.
They sat down at a cafe and ordered something to eat, as it was nearly dinnertime. For a moment, it seemed perfectly ordinary that she was sitting there and eating dinner with Arthur, as if he hadn't flown halfway across the world just to be with her. Though it wasn't for that reason, was it? She looked up at him, at the taut lines of his face. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"
"Did you need to discuss a job?" he asked in an even tone.
Ariadne leaned back slightly. "Need to? No. Want to? Absolutely."
He cracked a sliver of a smile at her clarification. "You miss the rush?"
"I miss the creation," she said, a wistful smile on her face. "I miss being part of something."
Arthur nearly frowned at his water glass. "You can do the creation, I'm sure of it. I'm not sure about the part of something bit."
"Who else is in on this?"
He looked up at her, expression unreadable. "Just me."
"Just the two of us?" she asked, surprise coloring her tone. "Then we should get started, shouldn't we?"
***
When Ariadne fell under, it was as if no time had passed at all. She half expected to see Eames or Yusuf, or even Cobb and Mal. But it was just her and Arthur, standing in the middle of a blasted desert landscape. "Where are we?"
"Time to create, Ariadne," he said, a challenge in his voice. "You have all the time in the world, and you can do whatever you want."
Almost instantly, the sand began to move and take shape. There were walls, doors, windows. Steep angles, harsh bends and tiny gaps between the buildings she was creating. Soon enough, harsh little faces were peering out of the windows, and the doorknobs were starting to rattle. Ariadne kept at it, standing beside Arthur, feeling his gaze fall upon her profile. He was watching her do this, watching how she looked when she concentrated, when she was starting to create a maze.
She turned to look at him abruptly, and a tower crashed and fell somewhere in the background. "Kiss me."
He blinked and for a moment looked startled. "What?" He shook his head. "Why should I do that?"
Ariadne grasped hold of his shirt, and there was a banging at the windows behind her. She yanked him close, and she could almost see her own reflection mirrored in his eyes. "Because this is what we've been dancing around, isn't it?"
She kissed him, and it felt as if her lips burned at the touch. Her tongue touched the seam of his lips and he almost didn't part his lips for her. Just when she was beginning to think this was a horrible idea, Arthur opened his mouth and slid his hands along her waist. The faces in the windows behind her fell silent, and the rattling doorknobs stopped jangling. Ariadne moved her hands up to grasp at his shoulders, to feel the skin above the shirt collar. Her body was pressed tight to his, and she thought she could almost feel his erection press up against her.
Almost as soon as Ariadne registered the sensation, Arthur pushed her back. His lips were parted, his eyes burning bright. His impeccable hair and clothes were mussed, and Ariadne suddenly wanted to just yank them off of his body. "What? Why did you stop?"
"We should be doing this while awake."
The words shot straight to Ariadne's groin. "Then let's wake up."
She could never remember afterward how they woke themselves up. It didn't matter; the next conscious thing she was aware of was Arthur's mouth pressed against hers and her hands sliding along his shirt to pull it out of his pants. For all that he was carefully put together, his clothes came apart easily and they were lying naked in her apartment living room, limbs twined and seeking constant contact. She was already damp for him, and his bare skin against hers was electric. His fingers ghosted over her skin, tangled in her hair and then moved down her side to trace the inside of her thigh. Ariadne pulled back from his kiss long enough to say "Come inside me," in a half groan, and she let out a sigh of contentment when he slid inside of her wet heat. Arthur's expression was almost strained when he pushed himself up above her to look at her face. "Goddammit, don't think," she groaned, reaching up to touch his shoulder. "Just feel me," Ariadne pleaded, arching into his touch. "God, you feel so good, Arthur, please..."
He moved slowly at first, methodically, almost driving her insane. The more she tried to pull him in closer or wrap her legs around his waist, the more teasing his strokes became. His eyes never left her face, taking in every last detail as he thrust into her. "Don't stop," she whined, arching up again and writhing beneath him. "Oh God, right there, Arthur, please, please, right there, please, that feels so good..."
She came, pulsing all around him, and only then did he speed up. He moved fast and hard, driving himself deeply inside of her. Ariadne might have let out a strangled moan of pleasure, she wasn't entirely sure. Her entire world narrowed until it was just Arthur, the way he felt and the way he was making her feel. Nothing else existed, and then he let out a groan before shuddering and nearly collapsing down on top of her. Ariadne held him tightly, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck.
"Is this why you keep calling me?" he asked, hands moving to tangle in her hair.
She smiled against his neck. "I was hoping. Is this why you keep answering?"
Arthur laughed softly. "I kept checking my totem. I didn't think... I couldn't figure out why you kept calling."
"There is no job, is there?"
He laughed again. "No, there isn't."
Ariadne pressed her lips against his neck. "Good."
He pulled back slightly to look at her. "Why is that a good thing?"
"I don't have class tomorrow." Her lips curled into a smile. "No reason to leave at all."
Arthur rolled onto his side and let his hand run along her torso. She slid her hand along his chest and trailed her fingers along his neck. "I can stay," he murmured.
Her smile was brilliant in the half light. "Wonderful. I've dreamt of this for a long time."
"Then how do you know this is real?"
She traced the dark circles under his eyes, then ran the ball of her thumb along his lower lip. "This is the real thing. I don't need to check."
He smiled in the face of her certainty and pulled her thumb between his lips, sucking gently on the skin and running his teeth over the edge of it. Her breath caught, and Arthur laughed. "Sleep, Ari. You look exhausted." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'll watch over your dreams."
Ariadne shifted so that she settled on top of him, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. He played with her hair a bit, and that was nice and soothing, too. It dimly occurred to her as she was falling asleep that he was still wide awake. She groggily pushed herself up, which surprised him. "You don't sleep, do you?"
"Not without a PASIV," he murmured, curling a lock of her hair around his finger.
Ariadne frowned. "I thought that was just dreaming that goes away?"
"I just don't shut down."
A slow smile slid along Ariadne's face. "I think I know how to shut you down."
Whatever Arthur was going to say was silenced by the startled gasp he made when Ariadne closed her lips around his cock. She shivered when his fingers went down to touch the top of her head, imagining the look of bliss on his face. She ran her tongue along the shaft, occasionally licking him or sucking on him. He made a soft sound deep in his throat, his fingers flexing along her hair. She took him deep into her mouth, her lips curling into a smile around him when she could hear the soft helpless sounds he made. She sucked on him hard, a hand cupping his balls gently.
She leaned back and smiled at him after he came in her mouth. She swallowed him down, then crawled back over his limp form. "Tired enough now?" she asked, pressing her lips against his jaw.
He gave her a weak laugh. "Maybe."
Ariadne laughed and twined her arms around him. "Good night, Arthur," she murmured sleepily, giving his neck a sloppy kiss.
He slid his hand along her shoulders and held her close. "Good night."
They both slept, arms twined around each other and hearts beating in sync.
The End.