Prompt Post No. 15
Welcome to Round 15 of the Inception Kink Meme.
Prompting System
- Prompt post will temporarily close to new prompts at 2000 comments.
- Forty-eight hours later, post will reopen to new prompts and temporarily close again when 4000 comments are reached.
- Forty-eight hours later, post will reopen to new prompts and permanently close to all new prompts ( Read more... )
Arthur goes in the spring. Eames buries him on a cool, crisp day. (On the first of March on the holiday, I thought I saw you breathing.)
Then Eames wakes up.
Reply
+1 so much. please please. this would make me cry and i would love ittt. ; ~ ; absolutely beautiful prompt.
Reply
As long as there's some sort of emotional resolution after Eames wakes up, yes?
Reply
-OP
Reply
Reply
Reply
Hope somebody will write something for it!!
Reply
Reply
It is just past six when Eames returns home from his morning run, iPod blaring hard rock and sneakers filthy with mud and grass. Argus, their three-year old German Shepherd, trails behind him into the dimly illuminated kitchen, tongue lolling and tail wagging furiously, exhausted but euphoric.
The kitchen is empty; no boiling kettle, no evidence of breakfast, no rustling newspapers, certainly no grumpy Arthur.
He bounds up the stairs two at a time, muscles protesting at the sudden exertion, calling out, “Still asleep, you lazy sod?” Unexpectedly, the rumpled bed is empty; blankets kicked into disarray, but he does find Arthur slumped against the bathroom wall, knees drawn to his chest and head tilted back to the tiles. The stale odour of sour vomit is unmistakable.
“Fuck, Arthur, how long have you been ( ... )
Reply
Reply
They talk through the night, about everything and nothing, flicking soapsuds at one another and sharing the dismal residues of the bottle between them. There is more water on the tiled floor than in the tub and Arthur-the-neat-freak will be so fucking pissed in the morning but Eames can’t quite care, caught up in the unspoiled brilliance of the moment.
He peels the dense sodden scarf from around Arthur’s icy neck, pressing delicate ethanol-flavoured kisses to the salty and soapy hollow of his throat. The skin around there is already bruised and discoloured by bite marks and Eames attempts to hide a smile because that explains the latest penchant for scarves and mufflers. Arthur squirms away, bright-eyed, but pulls him up, hand fisted in the front of his vest. They smash together in a muddle of teeth and tongue, spit and friction ( ... )
Reply
Oh, Eames ;_;
Reply
-OP
Reply
I'm so pleased you like it. I saw this prompt back when you first posted but was hoping someone else would fill it, ahah (lazy + too much real life crap to do + lazy). BUT, yeah, it was sad to think something so wonderful would be left unfilled so I decided to get my act together.
Can't promise anything, but I do hope it comes close to what you wanted :)
Reply
I apologise to anyone who was waiting. Concrit very welcome.
WARNINGS: eventual character death. descriptions of chronic illness (pancreatic cancer), treatment and side effects ( ... )
Reply
“But I wanted to,” Eames replies gravely, spectacles fogging up as he unloads the steaming dishwasher.
Arthur wrinkles his nose, accepting a stack of mismatched mugs, “Ew.”
“Hey, I was being romantic just then, you insensitive bastard.” He aims a half-hearted swipe at Arthur’s arse, somewhat relieved that they are able to effortlessly fall back on the tried and tested route of easy-going banter and camaraderie.
“But Eames,” Arthur stage-whispers as he sidesteps the blow easily; dimples particularly prominent and eyes comically wide, alight with purported innocence, “We’re manly men ( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment