Fic: School Blues
Title: School Blues
Pairings: Arthur/Eames
Rating: G
Word Count: 600+ words
Disclaimer: Inception is Christopher Nolan's. I don't own these characters.
Summary: The frustration of his class finally gets to Eames.
Note: AU, University. Written for keelain because classes can be hard and I wanted to encourage her! ♥
He watches Eames from the corner of his eyes. He's always watching. There's just something about Eames that captivates his attention so easily, so effortlessly.
The broad-shouldered youth is watching the middle-aged woman at the front of the room. She paces back and forth, her hands moving expressively. Eames' hands are moving too, but he hardly notices it.
Arthur does.
And he watches as Eames shreds a piece of paper from his notebook. Rip, rip, rip. His large fingers, tearing the paper into tiny, tiny little white and blue fragments, littering his pants, desk and the floor with confetti. Arthur almost feels sorry for the janitor who has to tidy the lecture halls afterwards.
As soon as the lecture is over, Eames is the first one shooting out of his seat and taking off as though a pack of hell-hounds are tight on his heels, snapping at his shoes. He'd been packed even before the end of class.
Arthur shoves his things into his backpack, not caring for once, the shape or condition of his books. Racing after Eames, he follows the British youth ducking outside. Once out there, he loses sight of Eames, but the familiar scent of cherry cigarillos and smoke tells him exactly where he is.
He tracks the smell to a small alcove, and finds Eames on the ground, sitting against the wall, knees drawn to his chest. The unruly-haired brunet slides down and joins him. He doesn't say anything, doesn't speak, doesn't even look at Eames. Instead, he watches the clouds in the sky. Watches them form, watches them fade. Watches as they make their trek across the great banner of blue.
The cigarette slowly burns down, whittled away, bit by bit, until there is nothing left but ashes and the filter. Eames fiddles with his lighter, flicking it several times, but he doesn't light up again. Finally, after what seems like hours, he speaks up. His voice, sounds so unlike his usual cheerful, boisterous self. His voice, instead, is small and uncertain.
“Arthur, I just--”
“You don't have to say anything,” he interrupts gently.
“No, I just...We're two lectures in and I can't...figure out anything. Every time I walk into that room,” he says, jabbing his thumb in the general direction of the classroom, “I feel like I'm all right. Like I understand it. But the moment I walk out, the moment I'm home and cracking open the books, it's all lost on me again.
“I can't do it, Arthur. I just. Can't,” he whispers.
“Yes, you can,” the younger disagrees.
“No, Arthur, you don't--”
“This is what you want, right? This. All of this.”
Eames nods.
Arthur gets onto his knees, turning to face his friend, taking his hands and holding them tight. He can't imagine it; he can't imagine not seeing the blue-grey eyes, sparkling with light and laughter. He can't imagine a day without seeing those familiar warm lips, curved up with into a Mona Lisa smile, secretive and knowing.
“Then I'll study with you. After class; we're both free. Every night. I can explain things to you, I can help you,” he promises earnestly.
“Arthur, I can't ask you to--”
“You're not. I'm offering,” he says firmly, as he looks straight into Eames' eyes, never once blinking or breaking his gaze. “And I don't take no for an answer.”
A pause.
Then Eames nods. “All right. Just on one condition.”
Arthur tilts his head. Waits for it.
“You let me take you out on a date this Friday.”
He stares, surprise flashing through him. Surprise and something else. Arthur thinks it might be his heart, trying to beat its way out of his chest. He thinks it might be hope.
“And Arthur.” Eames pulls the younger man toward him, lips barely brushing Arthur's ear, sending a shiver through him.
“I don't take no for an answer either.”
END
I wrote this literally in an hour and just posted it as an insta-drabble. So uh...yeah. I hope you guys like it anyway!
Feedback is much appreciated. :3
Pairings: Arthur/Eames
Rating: G
Word Count: 600+ words
Disclaimer: Inception is Christopher Nolan's. I don't own these characters.
Summary: The frustration of his class finally gets to Eames.
Note: AU, University. Written for keelain because classes can be hard and I wanted to encourage her! ♥
He watches Eames from the corner of his eyes. He's always watching. There's just something about Eames that captivates his attention so easily, so effortlessly.
The broad-shouldered youth is watching the middle-aged woman at the front of the room. She paces back and forth, her hands moving expressively. Eames' hands are moving too, but he hardly notices it.
Arthur does.
And he watches as Eames shreds a piece of paper from his notebook. Rip, rip, rip. His large fingers, tearing the paper into tiny, tiny little white and blue fragments, littering his pants, desk and the floor with confetti. Arthur almost feels sorry for the janitor who has to tidy the lecture halls afterwards.
As soon as the lecture is over, Eames is the first one shooting out of his seat and taking off as though a pack of hell-hounds are tight on his heels, snapping at his shoes. He'd been packed even before the end of class.
Arthur shoves his things into his backpack, not caring for once, the shape or condition of his books. Racing after Eames, he follows the British youth ducking outside. Once out there, he loses sight of Eames, but the familiar scent of cherry cigarillos and smoke tells him exactly where he is.
He tracks the smell to a small alcove, and finds Eames on the ground, sitting against the wall, knees drawn to his chest. The unruly-haired brunet slides down and joins him. He doesn't say anything, doesn't speak, doesn't even look at Eames. Instead, he watches the clouds in the sky. Watches them form, watches them fade. Watches as they make their trek across the great banner of blue.
The cigarette slowly burns down, whittled away, bit by bit, until there is nothing left but ashes and the filter. Eames fiddles with his lighter, flicking it several times, but he doesn't light up again. Finally, after what seems like hours, he speaks up. His voice, sounds so unlike his usual cheerful, boisterous self. His voice, instead, is small and uncertain.
“Arthur, I just--”
“You don't have to say anything,” he interrupts gently.
“No, I just...We're two lectures in and I can't...figure out anything. Every time I walk into that room,” he says, jabbing his thumb in the general direction of the classroom, “I feel like I'm all right. Like I understand it. But the moment I walk out, the moment I'm home and cracking open the books, it's all lost on me again.
“I can't do it, Arthur. I just. Can't,” he whispers.
“Yes, you can,” the younger disagrees.
“No, Arthur, you don't--”
“This is what you want, right? This. All of this.”
Eames nods.
Arthur gets onto his knees, turning to face his friend, taking his hands and holding them tight. He can't imagine it; he can't imagine not seeing the blue-grey eyes, sparkling with light and laughter. He can't imagine a day without seeing those familiar warm lips, curved up with into a Mona Lisa smile, secretive and knowing.
“Then I'll study with you. After class; we're both free. Every night. I can explain things to you, I can help you,” he promises earnestly.
“Arthur, I can't ask you to--”
“You're not. I'm offering,” he says firmly, as he looks straight into Eames' eyes, never once blinking or breaking his gaze. “And I don't take no for an answer.”
A pause.
Then Eames nods. “All right. Just on one condition.”
Arthur tilts his head. Waits for it.
“You let me take you out on a date this Friday.”
He stares, surprise flashing through him. Surprise and something else. Arthur thinks it might be his heart, trying to beat its way out of his chest. He thinks it might be hope.
“And Arthur.” Eames pulls the younger man toward him, lips barely brushing Arthur's ear, sending a shiver through him.
“I don't take no for an answer either.”
END
I wrote this literally in an hour and just posted it as an insta-drabble. So uh...yeah. I hope you guys like it anyway!
Feedback is much appreciated. :3