Keeping it Physical [Inception, an Arthur/Eames Fic] (Sequel to "Keepsakes")
Title: Keeping It Physical
Author: penelope_ziva
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Disclaimer: If I owned this movie Ariadne/Arthur would have been there SO much more. AND Arthur/Eames would have been canon.
Spoilers/Warnings: AU. Swear words.
Summary: Sequel to Keepsakes. Arthur finds Eames doing boxing training.
Arthur headed over to the Sports Hall, looking for Eames. He knew Eames often worked out in the gym, so since he wasn't in his dorm room, it was the second place to look.
He pushed open the door and walked in. It felt a bit odd walking in as he had no sports kit at all, and apart from Eames, no reason to be there.
He looked first in the gym: no Eames. As he was heading towards the changing rooms to check there he walked past another room. Glancing in as he went past, he noticed that it had a boxing ring as well as punch bags and other exercise equipment. He was just about to carry on past when he realized who the boy using one of the punch bags was.
He began to open the door, but stopped. Instead, he stood by the door and watched Eames as he took out what looked like a heck of a lot of frustration on the punch bag. A little voice in the back of his head was curious of what sort of frustration it was, but he ignored it.
Arthur watched as Eames, dressed only in shorts, punched the bag over and over again, his jaw gritted in determination. Eames has serious muscle, Arthur noted. Hot.
The lack of any sort of t-shirt showed off the full range of Eames' muscles, and there were many. Arthur smiled.
“You can come in, you know,” Eames called. Shit. Arthur hadn't even realized he'd been noticed. Eames glanced at him, smirking, before returning to his training.
Arthur pushed open the door and headed inside as Eames stopped working to walk over him.
“Ever done boxing, Arthur?”
Arthur shook his head. “Not boxing,” he replied. “Only karate.”
Eames arched an eyebrow. “Yes, that does seem as if it would be a more appropriate sport for someone of your stature.” He shrugged. “Mind you, so would badminton.”
Arthur punched Eames lightly on the arm.
“Is that the best you've got?” Eames teased, throwing punches that never reached Arthur. Arthur grinned.
“Nowhere near.”
Arthur quickly pulled off his socks and shoes and threw them to the side.
“Well, I can't say I've ever fought with someone wearing a three piece suit,” Eames told him, grinning. Arthur tugged off his jacket and threw it in the general direction of his shoes.
“Go on then,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face.
Eames through a gentle uppercut, but Arthur immediately blocked it and kicked Eames' legs out from under him.
“Don't bother being gentle, Mr. Eames,” Arthur informed him, looking down at the other boy. Eames bounced back up immediately.
“Oh, I won't,” Eames answered, before practically hurling himself at Arthur with a jab punch. The punch glanced off Arthur's cheek as he twisted to get out of the way, before launching a roundhouse kick that connected with Eames' side. And a heck of a lot of muscle.
Arthur noticed Eames grimace slightly, but apart from that he showed no sign of injury.
Eames bounced lightly on his toes, deftly moving out of the way of Arthur's slower kicks and punches. After catching Arthur's chin with a right hook, Eames found himself being thrown to the floor by the slimmer boy. Grabbing hold of Arthur's vest, Eames dragged him down too.
Arthur landed on top of Eames with an “oof” sound.
Neither made any attempt to move.
“Well, that was fun,” Eames commented. Arthur smirked and laughed.
“It was entertaining. You really ought to train more.”
“Me?” Eames looked at Arthur dubiously. “I rather think you are the one whose skills are rusty.”
“And yet I still manage to land you on your ass,” Arthur answered him.
“Ah, but you're down too,” Eames pointed out, looking up at Arthur.
“But I'm on top,” Arthur retorted, smiling knowingly. “And that is where I'll always be in our relationship.”
Eames raised both eyebrows. “Oh really, darling?”
“Really.”
“Fighting talk,” Eames commented, smirking. “I like it.”
Using his legs, Eames twisted so that he was lying on top of Arthur. Pulling off his boxing gloves, he threw them to the side of the room.
“Anyone could see,” Arthur reminded Eames.
“Well, we are just two guys getting a little... physical,” Eames commented, his voice slightly husky.
“Wouldn't we be in the boxing ring for that?” Arthur arched one eyebrow at Eames.
“Not necessarily. My bedroom seemed to be perfectly fine last time, love,” Eames replied, beginning to stand up. Putting his hand out, he pulled Arthur up to a standing position before heading off to retrieve his sports bag and boxing gloves.
“Where are you going?”
“To shower, Arthur. Care to join me?”
-
“Arthur?” Eames called into the cubicle next to his. An “mm hmm” was the only response he received. “You always smell lovely and I've misplaced my soap. Do you mind sharing?”
Waiting for a bar of soap or something similar to be passed over or under the wall between them, Eames was surprised and jumped out of the way when a tube of shower gel was thrown into his cubicle.
When Arthur heard the small yelp - apparently it had hit Eames somewhere - he couldn't help but snigger.
“I will get you back,” Eames reminded him as he heard Arthur shut the water off.
“Oh, I know you will,” Arthur replied airily, and Eames heard the door of Arthur's cubicle open and shut again. Jumping up, he peeked over the top of his cubicle door.
“You know, Arthur, you have a really nice arse.”
“I'm so glad you approve, Eames,” Arthur replied as he wrapped his towel around himself.
“Your condescension is always appreciated, Arthur,” Eames replied teasingly and he rinsed the lather off his body. Glancing at the label he realized precisely what Arthur was always scented slightly of. 'Cedar-wood, lemon, rosemary and mandarin' the bottle informed him.
Shutting off the water, Eames pulled his towel from where he'd left it slung over the cubicle door and tied it around his waist. Low around his waist. More around his hips. Opening the cubicle door he walked out to find Arthur looking in the mirror and combing his hair neatly. He spied Eames in the mirror.
Arthur turned around. “You couldn't have been a little more modest with the towel, could you?” he asked rhetorically. Eames winked.
“You know me, love,” he answered. Arthur rolled his eyes. Yes, yes I do.
Arthur's eyes widened slightly as Eames' towel began to come un-tucked.
“Eames, your towel-”
“I know,” Eames said as his towel slid into a heap on the floor.
“Fuck,” Arthur commented, and Eames smirked at the surprising use of a swear word. He'd never heard Arthur swear before.
“That was exactly what I was thinking, darling,” he replied, and he walked towards Arthur.
TO BE CONTINUED.
• Comments are l♥ve!
• ConCrit is also appreciated!
• Do not claim as your own!
Author: penelope_ziva
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Disclaimer: If I owned this movie Ariadne/Arthur would have been there SO much more. AND Arthur/Eames would have been canon.
Spoilers/Warnings: AU. Swear words.
Summary: Sequel to Keepsakes. Arthur finds Eames doing boxing training.
Arthur headed over to the Sports Hall, looking for Eames. He knew Eames often worked out in the gym, so since he wasn't in his dorm room, it was the second place to look.
He pushed open the door and walked in. It felt a bit odd walking in as he had no sports kit at all, and apart from Eames, no reason to be there.
He looked first in the gym: no Eames. As he was heading towards the changing rooms to check there he walked past another room. Glancing in as he went past, he noticed that it had a boxing ring as well as punch bags and other exercise equipment. He was just about to carry on past when he realized who the boy using one of the punch bags was.
He began to open the door, but stopped. Instead, he stood by the door and watched Eames as he took out what looked like a heck of a lot of frustration on the punch bag. A little voice in the back of his head was curious of what sort of frustration it was, but he ignored it.
Arthur watched as Eames, dressed only in shorts, punched the bag over and over again, his jaw gritted in determination. Eames has serious muscle, Arthur noted. Hot.
The lack of any sort of t-shirt showed off the full range of Eames' muscles, and there were many. Arthur smiled.
“You can come in, you know,” Eames called. Shit. Arthur hadn't even realized he'd been noticed. Eames glanced at him, smirking, before returning to his training.
Arthur pushed open the door and headed inside as Eames stopped working to walk over him.
“Ever done boxing, Arthur?”
Arthur shook his head. “Not boxing,” he replied. “Only karate.”
Eames arched an eyebrow. “Yes, that does seem as if it would be a more appropriate sport for someone of your stature.” He shrugged. “Mind you, so would badminton.”
Arthur punched Eames lightly on the arm.
“Is that the best you've got?” Eames teased, throwing punches that never reached Arthur. Arthur grinned.
“Nowhere near.”
Arthur quickly pulled off his socks and shoes and threw them to the side.
“Well, I can't say I've ever fought with someone wearing a three piece suit,” Eames told him, grinning. Arthur tugged off his jacket and threw it in the general direction of his shoes.
“Go on then,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face.
Eames through a gentle uppercut, but Arthur immediately blocked it and kicked Eames' legs out from under him.
“Don't bother being gentle, Mr. Eames,” Arthur informed him, looking down at the other boy. Eames bounced back up immediately.
“Oh, I won't,” Eames answered, before practically hurling himself at Arthur with a jab punch. The punch glanced off Arthur's cheek as he twisted to get out of the way, before launching a roundhouse kick that connected with Eames' side. And a heck of a lot of muscle.
Arthur noticed Eames grimace slightly, but apart from that he showed no sign of injury.
Eames bounced lightly on his toes, deftly moving out of the way of Arthur's slower kicks and punches. After catching Arthur's chin with a right hook, Eames found himself being thrown to the floor by the slimmer boy. Grabbing hold of Arthur's vest, Eames dragged him down too.
Arthur landed on top of Eames with an “oof” sound.
Neither made any attempt to move.
“Well, that was fun,” Eames commented. Arthur smirked and laughed.
“It was entertaining. You really ought to train more.”
“Me?” Eames looked at Arthur dubiously. “I rather think you are the one whose skills are rusty.”
“And yet I still manage to land you on your ass,” Arthur answered him.
“Ah, but you're down too,” Eames pointed out, looking up at Arthur.
“But I'm on top,” Arthur retorted, smiling knowingly. “And that is where I'll always be in our relationship.”
Eames raised both eyebrows. “Oh really, darling?”
“Really.”
“Fighting talk,” Eames commented, smirking. “I like it.”
Using his legs, Eames twisted so that he was lying on top of Arthur. Pulling off his boxing gloves, he threw them to the side of the room.
“Anyone could see,” Arthur reminded Eames.
“Well, we are just two guys getting a little... physical,” Eames commented, his voice slightly husky.
“Wouldn't we be in the boxing ring for that?” Arthur arched one eyebrow at Eames.
“Not necessarily. My bedroom seemed to be perfectly fine last time, love,” Eames replied, beginning to stand up. Putting his hand out, he pulled Arthur up to a standing position before heading off to retrieve his sports bag and boxing gloves.
“Where are you going?”
“To shower, Arthur. Care to join me?”
-
“Arthur?” Eames called into the cubicle next to his. An “mm hmm” was the only response he received. “You always smell lovely and I've misplaced my soap. Do you mind sharing?”
Waiting for a bar of soap or something similar to be passed over or under the wall between them, Eames was surprised and jumped out of the way when a tube of shower gel was thrown into his cubicle.
When Arthur heard the small yelp - apparently it had hit Eames somewhere - he couldn't help but snigger.
“I will get you back,” Eames reminded him as he heard Arthur shut the water off.
“Oh, I know you will,” Arthur replied airily, and Eames heard the door of Arthur's cubicle open and shut again. Jumping up, he peeked over the top of his cubicle door.
“You know, Arthur, you have a really nice arse.”
“I'm so glad you approve, Eames,” Arthur replied as he wrapped his towel around himself.
“Your condescension is always appreciated, Arthur,” Eames replied teasingly and he rinsed the lather off his body. Glancing at the label he realized precisely what Arthur was always scented slightly of. 'Cedar-wood, lemon, rosemary and mandarin' the bottle informed him.
Shutting off the water, Eames pulled his towel from where he'd left it slung over the cubicle door and tied it around his waist. Low around his waist. More around his hips. Opening the cubicle door he walked out to find Arthur looking in the mirror and combing his hair neatly. He spied Eames in the mirror.
Arthur turned around. “You couldn't have been a little more modest with the towel, could you?” he asked rhetorically. Eames winked.
“You know me, love,” he answered. Arthur rolled his eyes. Yes, yes I do.
Arthur's eyes widened slightly as Eames' towel began to come un-tucked.
“Eames, your towel-”
“I know,” Eames said as his towel slid into a heap on the floor.
“Fuck,” Arthur commented, and Eames smirked at the surprising use of a swear word. He'd never heard Arthur swear before.
“That was exactly what I was thinking, darling,” he replied, and he walked towards Arthur.
TO BE CONTINUED.
• Comments are l♥ve!
• ConCrit is also appreciated!
• Do not claim as your own!