cathybites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cathybites) wrote2010-08-03 10:29 am
cathybites) wrote2010-08-03 10:29 am
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summer in the city
[inception, arthur/eames, pg, 563 words]
written for this prompt: The weather is so unbearably hot that Eames must walk around with the least possible amount of clothing on. Arthur finds this unbearable. completely unbetaed and written while half-asleep, so. yes. hello.
All things considered, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. It was, in fact, practically inevitable. For one, the cramped apartment they'd been holed up in for the week had no AC, and New York was in the middle of one of the worst heat waves in history. For another, Eames was completely and unabashedly shameless.
Really, the only thing that should've surprised Arthur was that Eames waited until the third day.
Arthur had been in the middle of giving the background on their latest mark when Eames stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Eames? What are you doing?"
Eames just grinned before shucking off the shirt. "It's bloody hot in here, and I've had just about enough of it." He tossed the shirt at Ariadne, who laughed and batted it away.
Arthur was going to reprimand him - really, he was. The admonishment was on the tip of his tongue, ready to remind him this was a big job and that now, without Cobb's help and skills, they had to work that much more carefully and harder - but then, with a curve to his smile that would haunt Arthur for days afterward, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers.
The words he'd wanted to say were lost as Arthur swallowed heavily. His fingers itched for his die, but he feared that any movement he made would betray his thoughts, which seemed to all run along the singular line of skinskinsomuchskinohgod.
So instead he kept still, he kept silent, focusing all his effort on glaring at Eames to express his disapproval.
That just earned Arthur another cheeky grin as Eames curled his fingers under the waistband of his boxers.
Before either of them could say anything, Ariadne shrieked and smacked Eames. "Oh god, don't you even DARE!" she said, still laughing. "You don't even want to know how much I will fuck up your dreams if you do."
Eames turned his attention to her, mock-snarling and snapping his waistband. It gave Arthur a moment to turn away, collect himself, think about the job at hand instead of Eames' near-naked body.
"Anytime you two want to stop fooling around, I'd like to finish up here." He looked back up, and they were both, thankfully, seated, although Eames was still clad in only his shorts. Arthur frowned a little, and Eames smiled, looking almost sorry. Almost.
"Apologies, Arthur. Do go on."
"As I was saying..." He looked down at his notes, then glanced back up and nearly swallowed his tongue. Eames was sprawled in his chair, legs spread out as he lounged. The fingers of one hand drummed against the inner thigh of one leg, tapping along the hem of his boxers. A fine sheen of sweat covered every inch, and Arthur swallowed again, his mouth watering instantly.
Eames watched him, mouth curving back into the same damn smile before.
Arthur gave his notes one last look, then set them down. "Right, that's it," he said, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.
"Wait, where are you going?" Ariadne asked.
Arthur paused, glancing from her and then to Eames (and if his glance towards Eames lasted a little longer and happened to follow a bead of sweat as it traveled from the hollow of his throat down to his navel, well. Arthur would never admit it.)
"To buy an air-conditioning unit."
thank you for reading!
[inception, arthur/eames, pg, 563 words]
written for this prompt: The weather is so unbearably hot that Eames must walk around with the least possible amount of clothing on. Arthur finds this unbearable. completely unbetaed and written while half-asleep, so. yes. hello.
All things considered, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. It was, in fact, practically inevitable. For one, the cramped apartment they'd been holed up in for the week had no AC, and New York was in the middle of one of the worst heat waves in history. For another, Eames was completely and unabashedly shameless.
Really, the only thing that should've surprised Arthur was that Eames waited until the third day.
Arthur had been in the middle of giving the background on their latest mark when Eames stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Eames? What are you doing?"
Eames just grinned before shucking off the shirt. "It's bloody hot in here, and I've had just about enough of it." He tossed the shirt at Ariadne, who laughed and batted it away.
Arthur was going to reprimand him - really, he was. The admonishment was on the tip of his tongue, ready to remind him this was a big job and that now, without Cobb's help and skills, they had to work that much more carefully and harder - but then, with a curve to his smile that would haunt Arthur for days afterward, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers.
The words he'd wanted to say were lost as Arthur swallowed heavily. His fingers itched for his die, but he feared that any movement he made would betray his thoughts, which seemed to all run along the singular line of skinskinsomuchskinohgod.
So instead he kept still, he kept silent, focusing all his effort on glaring at Eames to express his disapproval.
That just earned Arthur another cheeky grin as Eames curled his fingers under the waistband of his boxers.
Before either of them could say anything, Ariadne shrieked and smacked Eames. "Oh god, don't you even DARE!" she said, still laughing. "You don't even want to know how much I will fuck up your dreams if you do."
Eames turned his attention to her, mock-snarling and snapping his waistband. It gave Arthur a moment to turn away, collect himself, think about the job at hand instead of Eames' near-naked body.
"Anytime you two want to stop fooling around, I'd like to finish up here." He looked back up, and they were both, thankfully, seated, although Eames was still clad in only his shorts. Arthur frowned a little, and Eames smiled, looking almost sorry. Almost.
"Apologies, Arthur. Do go on."
"As I was saying..." He looked down at his notes, then glanced back up and nearly swallowed his tongue. Eames was sprawled in his chair, legs spread out as he lounged. The fingers of one hand drummed against the inner thigh of one leg, tapping along the hem of his boxers. A fine sheen of sweat covered every inch, and Arthur swallowed again, his mouth watering instantly.
Eames watched him, mouth curving back into the same damn smile before.
Arthur gave his notes one last look, then set them down. "Right, that's it," he said, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.
"Wait, where are you going?" Ariadne asked.
Arthur paused, glancing from her and then to Eames (and if his glance towards Eames lasted a little longer and happened to follow a bead of sweat as it traveled from the hollow of his throat down to his navel, well. Arthur would never admit it.)
"To buy an air-conditioning unit."
thank you for reading!
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I feel like if anyone would know, it'd be you. XD
Thanks, hon.
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It's awesome, I liked them a lot here - Arthur and Eames, and Ariadne. Thanks a lot for sharing :)
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but what a way to go, eh? ;D
Thank you so much for reading!
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this was great!
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Thank you!
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you do realize this cannot exist without a sequel.
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Will art be next?
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<333
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Thank you!
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Ok, this was WONDERFULLY HOT. And SO believable. This is totally Eames, who would be just as lazy-relaxed in NOTHING AT ALL as he is in his clothes. I LOVE THAT.
UGH, MORE CATHY. MOOOOOORE!
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