KissBingo: Fic: The Typical War (Arthur/Eames)
Title: The Typical War
Prompt: type: stolen
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Kissing, gun violence, cussing
Summary: Arthur's brain and heart wage a war, debating which is more important to him: being the best at his job, or Eames?
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, or any of its fancy characters. Damn.
Author's Note: This is definitely the saddest fic I've wrote. ): I'm sorry it's got such a slow start, but I can't help my addiction to making things obnoxiously long (2,561 words to be exact...)
Dedication: As per usual, to alifeofourown . It's my first sad-ish fic, really, and well... I dunno. Just 'cause.
The mark's subconscious was closing in on the entire team; the mind was trained. They had known what they were in for; but on paper, this all seemed to be much more easier to handle.
"Arthur! Yusuf! Go down that alley way and meet us around to distract them!" Cobb yelled. "Ariadne made it so that there will be a place where our paths will meet. I need to get to the information!"
"Cobb, are you bloody bonkers?!" Eames yelled. "Sending Arthur and Yusuf down another way, do you think the projections are stupid? Using them as a distraction is simply risking their lives, and we need all the men we can get out here!" He fired his massive gun. "If you haven't noticed, we're being fired at from all angles!"
"I know what's best for my team, Eames! Arthur, Yusuf, go now!" Cobb ordered. Arthur nodded, glancing at Eames who was red in the face, looking like he was about to explode. His eyes darted to Yusuf, and he nodded. Together, they ran down the alley, successfully pulling some projections after them. However, what they were ambushed on the other side by three more projections. Arthur and Yusuf began shooting at all they could.
Suddenly, an abrupt pain made Arthur's leg give out, and he let out a very primal scream of pain. He could feel it echo in his veins as the pain from the bullet in his calf really sunk in. "Fuck!" He screamed, taking a sharp intake of breath, trying to raise his arm to keep shooting. Yusuf turned to Arthur, shooting over Arthur's shoulder.
"Yusuf! Keep moving forward! I'll kill as many as I can!" Arthur knew with this leg he wouldn't be able to walk on it, but getting the word that he had woken up to the rest of the team so they didn't waste time waiting was imperative. Though he knew that Cobb wouldn't wait; they both understood that if the other woke up, there was nothing they could do about it--and the mission became the most important thing.
Yusuf, holding his gun in front of him and firing not stop, pushed through the projections that kept coming out of no where. Arthur didn't have much time after that before the projections unleashed the fury on him--and the next thing Arthur knew, he was jolting up, gasping for air, his one hand flying to his calf and the other diving in his suit pocket to get his totem. He tried to catch his breath, rolling his die on the floor several times, watching as it rolled to where it was weighted, six, every time. He was in reality. He stuck his totem safely in his pocket, looking to his leg. It looked fine, and when he pushed himself to his feet, he expected to feel pain, but nothing was there. He bit his lip, pinching the bridge of his nose. No matter how many times he got injured before he died in a dream, that adrenaline rush would never go away--that fear that somehow, he really got injured. The feeling was the same; he could feel the pulsing in his calf, and he tried to ignore it by looking around. They were all still fast asleep, the entire team: Cobb, Ariadne, Yusuf, and Eames. His eyes focused on Yusuf, waiting, waiting for him to wake up and be caught by the projections. But all he saw was Yusuf's chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. If anyone was watching, they would have no idea what a nightmare was going on in there.
"Arthur, what happened?" Saito stood, looking up from his laptop. "How did you die?" His eyes darted to the others, waiting for someone who was around Arthur to wake up.
"Cobb sent Yusuf and I off as a distraction, I got shot in the calf and sent Yusuf forward. I died when Yusuf left because they focused on me. I think Yusuf is fine." Arthur hoped his nerves weren't showing; that the sweat he felt beading wasn't obvious. Arthur worked hard to keep up that cool, calm, and collected look. It wasn't always that easy, so to distract Saito from focusing on his perspiring face, began to loosen and adjust his tie, trying to get it right. "Saito, it was horrible in there. About ten times worse than we thought was possible." He smoothed out his hair, unable to tame his hands from moving. It was rather embarrassing.
"Oh. I hope they'll be able to complete the mission." Saito glanced at his watch. "Arthur, since you're awake, I should be able to get home early enough to get the carpet cleaned before my next meeting. Can I go?"
"Yeah, Saito, it's fine." Arthur nodded. He watched as their newest member left, and he turned back to the sleeping men. Nothing had changed.
Arthur's eyes landed on the one place he had tried to avert them. On Eames' sleeping body. He took a rather involuntary step forward.
They're under a heavy sedative, his subconscious reminded him. They're not to be woken for another half hour. You can let go, for once.
It was true. He knew that within the first week of meeting Eames, the rock that had been his heart had been shattered, exposing the squishy organ in all its defenselessness. Even through all the unpredictability--he never knew if Eames was gonna pop up for a mission or not, it just sort of happened--that squishy, defenseless organ always beat faster when Eames was in the room. But ever since the Inception, Eames had become a regular. Arthur's heart never had to endure this before; to have the one thing it wanted, so close, for so long. It began eating him up inside like a parasite. It was getting harder and harder to focus on his work, which was Arthur's main issue. It was the typical war between the heart and the brain. Arthur knew that it was stupid to let something so silly and common as Eames' presence distract him from his job, which was most important to him (or so, he told himself).
In addition for it getting harder and harder for Arthur to focus; a snake had wound itself around Arthur's chest. And with each day of seeing Eames, it was like the snake constricted a bit more. At this point, Arthur felt like his heart was going to burst.
There was another step forward, and Arthur cursed his legs, not aware of what they were doing.
His heart was aching for a need to stop fighting with the man. He wanted it all to stop, he wanted to walk up to Eames in the middle of one of their squabbles, grab his face and kiss him, kiss him so deeply that they never had to fight again, because everything suddenly made fucking sense. Arthur knew, that if he just got to kiss Eames once, that need would die and he could focus again. He knew that all his troubles, thanks to Eames, would melt away and things could go back to normal. Logically, however, he knew things would not. He knew that he would be busted. If he gave into rash decisions like wanting to kiss Eames, everything would change. They would all know his true aching; that he wasn't so calm, cool and collected every minute of every day. And if Arthur wasn't the collected one, what was he? Nothing. This is why he came to the conclusion that he could never, ever admit to Eames what he felt. It would destroy everything that he was.
Arthur walked right to where the man was laying, leaning over him, resting a hand on the arm of the chair. He leaned in close, taking a deep breath. That scent that he caught when Eames walked by his desk; the beautiful, intoxicating scent of Eames. He let out a shaky breath, leaning in closer to Eames' peaceful, sleeping face.
The snake that constricted his heart squeezed ten times as harder, and Arthur felt a pain in his chest that was simply incomparable to anything else he had ever felt; even the shot in the calf in the dream. Arthur realized, then, that it was undeniable. He loved Eames. He loved this man like he had never loved anything in this world before; loved this man more than he could ever imagine loving anything before. His sloppy, idiotic, charming, endearing, and quite frankly sexy ways were so addicting that Arthur sustained any contact--even the bickering relationship they had--with Eames, just for the sake of hearing the man add 'darling' or 'pet' or, if Arthur was lucky, 'love.'
Before he could change his mind, he leaned in and stole a kiss from the sleeping man. It was deep and powerful, and everything Arthur could ever imagine the man's lips tasting like. He pulled back, short of breath, and feeling like his ribs were constricting his chest.
He loved Eames, yes he did, but that was the problem. Arthur was the best at his job because of his lack of distractions, his lack of love.
He valued his job too much to let it all go down the drain for the pesky emotions.
Jumping back from the man who he could still taste lingering on his lips, he ripped open his suit jacket and ripped off his tie, throwing it to the ground. That kiss, that had just lasted full minute, was impossible to get out of his mind. He tugged at his moosed hair, putting it in a state of disarray. A shaking sob sounded from him. The snake, surely, was wrapping around his heart, turning it back to stone, because he was denying himself of the one thing he allowed to get in.
Arthur collapsed on the floor, right next to Eames' undisturbed body, shaking with violent, loud sobs; he screamed out in agony as his heart encased itself in the stony tomb, once again.
27 minutes later, when he woke them up, he was back to the Arthur they all knew; unaffected by anything, his defenses so intense, he could beat out his own desires. And as to be expected, he didn't even look at Eames, but right at Cobb, with only one thing on his mind.
"Did you complete the mission?"
AUTHOR'S EDIT:
WHAT IS THIS? FANCY NEW UPDATE? PART TWO, EVERYONE!
Prompt: type: stolen
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Kissing, gun violence, cussing
Summary: Arthur's brain and heart wage a war, debating which is more important to him: being the best at his job, or Eames?
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, or any of its fancy characters. Damn.
Author's Note: This is definitely the saddest fic I've wrote. ): I'm sorry it's got such a slow start, but I can't help my addiction to making things obnoxiously long (2,561 words to be exact...)
Dedication: As per usual, to alifeofourown . It's my first sad-ish fic, really, and well... I dunno. Just 'cause.
The mark's subconscious was closing in on the entire team; the mind was trained. They had known what they were in for; but on paper, this all seemed to be much more easier to handle.
"Arthur! Yusuf! Go down that alley way and meet us around to distract them!" Cobb yelled. "Ariadne made it so that there will be a place where our paths will meet. I need to get to the information!"
"Cobb, are you bloody bonkers?!" Eames yelled. "Sending Arthur and Yusuf down another way, do you think the projections are stupid? Using them as a distraction is simply risking their lives, and we need all the men we can get out here!" He fired his massive gun. "If you haven't noticed, we're being fired at from all angles!"
"I know what's best for my team, Eames! Arthur, Yusuf, go now!" Cobb ordered. Arthur nodded, glancing at Eames who was red in the face, looking like he was about to explode. His eyes darted to Yusuf, and he nodded. Together, they ran down the alley, successfully pulling some projections after them. However, what they were ambushed on the other side by three more projections. Arthur and Yusuf began shooting at all they could.
Suddenly, an abrupt pain made Arthur's leg give out, and he let out a very primal scream of pain. He could feel it echo in his veins as the pain from the bullet in his calf really sunk in. "Fuck!" He screamed, taking a sharp intake of breath, trying to raise his arm to keep shooting. Yusuf turned to Arthur, shooting over Arthur's shoulder.
"Yusuf! Keep moving forward! I'll kill as many as I can!" Arthur knew with this leg he wouldn't be able to walk on it, but getting the word that he had woken up to the rest of the team so they didn't waste time waiting was imperative. Though he knew that Cobb wouldn't wait; they both understood that if the other woke up, there was nothing they could do about it--and the mission became the most important thing.
Yusuf, holding his gun in front of him and firing not stop, pushed through the projections that kept coming out of no where. Arthur didn't have much time after that before the projections unleashed the fury on him--and the next thing Arthur knew, he was jolting up, gasping for air, his one hand flying to his calf and the other diving in his suit pocket to get his totem. He tried to catch his breath, rolling his die on the floor several times, watching as it rolled to where it was weighted, six, every time. He was in reality. He stuck his totem safely in his pocket, looking to his leg. It looked fine, and when he pushed himself to his feet, he expected to feel pain, but nothing was there. He bit his lip, pinching the bridge of his nose. No matter how many times he got injured before he died in a dream, that adrenaline rush would never go away--that fear that somehow, he really got injured. The feeling was the same; he could feel the pulsing in his calf, and he tried to ignore it by looking around. They were all still fast asleep, the entire team: Cobb, Ariadne, Yusuf, and Eames. His eyes focused on Yusuf, waiting, waiting for him to wake up and be caught by the projections. But all he saw was Yusuf's chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. If anyone was watching, they would have no idea what a nightmare was going on in there.
"Arthur, what happened?" Saito stood, looking up from his laptop. "How did you die?" His eyes darted to the others, waiting for someone who was around Arthur to wake up.
"Cobb sent Yusuf and I off as a distraction, I got shot in the calf and sent Yusuf forward. I died when Yusuf left because they focused on me. I think Yusuf is fine." Arthur hoped his nerves weren't showing; that the sweat he felt beading wasn't obvious. Arthur worked hard to keep up that cool, calm, and collected look. It wasn't always that easy, so to distract Saito from focusing on his perspiring face, began to loosen and adjust his tie, trying to get it right. "Saito, it was horrible in there. About ten times worse than we thought was possible." He smoothed out his hair, unable to tame his hands from moving. It was rather embarrassing.
"Oh. I hope they'll be able to complete the mission." Saito glanced at his watch. "Arthur, since you're awake, I should be able to get home early enough to get the carpet cleaned before my next meeting. Can I go?"
"Yeah, Saito, it's fine." Arthur nodded. He watched as their newest member left, and he turned back to the sleeping men. Nothing had changed.
Arthur's eyes landed on the one place he had tried to avert them. On Eames' sleeping body. He took a rather involuntary step forward.
They're under a heavy sedative, his subconscious reminded him. They're not to be woken for another half hour. You can let go, for once.
It was true. He knew that within the first week of meeting Eames, the rock that had been his heart had been shattered, exposing the squishy organ in all its defenselessness. Even through all the unpredictability--he never knew if Eames was gonna pop up for a mission or not, it just sort of happened--that squishy, defenseless organ always beat faster when Eames was in the room. But ever since the Inception, Eames had become a regular. Arthur's heart never had to endure this before; to have the one thing it wanted, so close, for so long. It began eating him up inside like a parasite. It was getting harder and harder to focus on his work, which was Arthur's main issue. It was the typical war between the heart and the brain. Arthur knew that it was stupid to let something so silly and common as Eames' presence distract him from his job, which was most important to him (or so, he told himself).
In addition for it getting harder and harder for Arthur to focus; a snake had wound itself around Arthur's chest. And with each day of seeing Eames, it was like the snake constricted a bit more. At this point, Arthur felt like his heart was going to burst.
There was another step forward, and Arthur cursed his legs, not aware of what they were doing.
His heart was aching for a need to stop fighting with the man. He wanted it all to stop, he wanted to walk up to Eames in the middle of one of their squabbles, grab his face and kiss him, kiss him so deeply that they never had to fight again, because everything suddenly made fucking sense. Arthur knew, that if he just got to kiss Eames once, that need would die and he could focus again. He knew that all his troubles, thanks to Eames, would melt away and things could go back to normal. Logically, however, he knew things would not. He knew that he would be busted. If he gave into rash decisions like wanting to kiss Eames, everything would change. They would all know his true aching; that he wasn't so calm, cool and collected every minute of every day. And if Arthur wasn't the collected one, what was he? Nothing. This is why he came to the conclusion that he could never, ever admit to Eames what he felt. It would destroy everything that he was.
Arthur walked right to where the man was laying, leaning over him, resting a hand on the arm of the chair. He leaned in close, taking a deep breath. That scent that he caught when Eames walked by his desk; the beautiful, intoxicating scent of Eames. He let out a shaky breath, leaning in closer to Eames' peaceful, sleeping face.
The snake that constricted his heart squeezed ten times as harder, and Arthur felt a pain in his chest that was simply incomparable to anything else he had ever felt; even the shot in the calf in the dream. Arthur realized, then, that it was undeniable. He loved Eames. He loved this man like he had never loved anything in this world before; loved this man more than he could ever imagine loving anything before. His sloppy, idiotic, charming, endearing, and quite frankly sexy ways were so addicting that Arthur sustained any contact--even the bickering relationship they had--with Eames, just for the sake of hearing the man add 'darling' or 'pet' or, if Arthur was lucky, 'love.'
Before he could change his mind, he leaned in and stole a kiss from the sleeping man. It was deep and powerful, and everything Arthur could ever imagine the man's lips tasting like. He pulled back, short of breath, and feeling like his ribs were constricting his chest.
He loved Eames, yes he did, but that was the problem. Arthur was the best at his job because of his lack of distractions, his lack of love.
He valued his job too much to let it all go down the drain for the pesky emotions.
Jumping back from the man who he could still taste lingering on his lips, he ripped open his suit jacket and ripped off his tie, throwing it to the ground. That kiss, that had just lasted full minute, was impossible to get out of his mind. He tugged at his moosed hair, putting it in a state of disarray. A shaking sob sounded from him. The snake, surely, was wrapping around his heart, turning it back to stone, because he was denying himself of the one thing he allowed to get in.
Arthur collapsed on the floor, right next to Eames' undisturbed body, shaking with violent, loud sobs; he screamed out in agony as his heart encased itself in the stony tomb, once again.
27 minutes later, when he woke them up, he was back to the Arthur they all knew; unaffected by anything, his defenses so intense, he could beat out his own desires. And as to be expected, he didn't even look at Eames, but right at Cobb, with only one thing on his mind.
"Did you complete the mission?"
AUTHOR'S EDIT:
WHAT IS THIS? FANCY NEW UPDATE? PART TWO, EVERYONE!