![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[Fic] hair today (PG-13) [Inception] (Arthur/Eames)
Title: hair today
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mizzy2k
Summary: Arthur/Eames. Eames is on time for the briefing for the first time in forever. Inspired by the TMW premiere pics @HardysHunni has been tweeting.
Disclaimer: Inception doesn't belong to me..
Wordcount: ~740
Eames has a problem with showing up to anything on time. He and time have a very loose relationship. He knows it drives Arthur wild, and not in a good way. He doesn't actively go out of his way to be late. He just is. And when Arthur's made another of his professionalism in the workplace briefings, Eames likes to pretend he's late on purpose.
But that's all it is. Pretence. Time just doesn't like Eames. The same way maths, spelling and fashion sometimes elude him. All right, maybe all the time. One doesn't need those things in life. Time, though, that's something he wouldn't mind mastering at some point.
It's his fast and loose relationship with time that leads him to showing up at the office with the beard he grew to get past the Australian Custom guys. He meant to shave it off after landing—getting out of Australia was much easier than getting in, after all—but Eames' relationship with hotel beds was much stronger, and his bed at the Grace hotel would be calling his name if it could.
When he woke actually on time for the briefing, Eames thought nothing of it. It was a success with time, one Eames wasn't going to throw away. He did the bare hygiene minimum, threw on his clothes and legged it to the tall building Arthur had texted him the co-ordinates to.
It was a new thing, hiring office space to work in. Invariably their Mark had offices in the building. It made sense, embedding their faces in the Mark's daily routine so them showing up in the dream wouldn't be so odd for their subconscious. It was Arthur's idea, so naturally Eames couldn't say out loud that he was impressed. He covered it up by being obnoxious about having to turn up for work in a suit.
He feels a little better that he didn't have time to iron his suit because that was one insult too far.
Eames takes a few minutes to check the building out, approaching the door carefully, one hand on his weapon just in case this is some sort of bizarre set-up, but when he sees Cobb, Arthur, Jen and Michaelson inside and nothing else, he relaxes, pushing into the room with as much swagger he can muster while on Australian time.
And Cobb pulls his gun on him.
Predictably, Arthur's right up next to him, gun extended before he even looks at what Cobb's pointing at. Arthur, thankfully for Eames' sanity, drops his gun immediately and just stares at Eames instead.
"Shit," Eames says. "Well..." No, there isn't any classy phrase that suits the situation. "Shit. Wasn't expecting you to do me in. 'spose it makes sense," he tags on half-heartedly. It's embarrassing if Cobb has been hired to take him out, but Eames isn't going to waste his potential last words on doing anything to Cobb's already out-of-control ego.
Cobb blinks. "...Eames?"
"Of course it's Eames," Arthur says, his condescending tone on its highest setting. Eames reflects on how it's rather refreshing for its awesome power to be directed at someone other than himself for once.
Cobb actually twitches at having it directed at him. "It's a... well. It's an impressive beard," he mutters, coughing in an embarrassed way as he puts his weapon away. "Sorry for the mix-up," he throws at Eames.
"He was on time," Arthur says, still staring at him. "You weren't to know it was him really, Cobb."
Cobb grunts appreciatively.
Eames shrugs as delicately as he can. "Didn't have time to deal with it," he says, ambling over to have a look at some of the plans already spread over the furniture. He flickers a greeting smile at Arthur as he moves up to lean against the table beside him. "I'll shave it off tonight."
Arthur blinks, and colors slightly, and presses his mouth into a line.
And then he looks at Eames in the same strange way he was staring at him before, and he leans in a little closer. "Don't," is all Arthur says, in a breathy sort of whisper, before reaching up and patting his cheek gently with two fingers.
Eames tracks the movement of Arthur's pale neck as he swallows and pulls away. And when Arthur's briefing them on the Mark, a Mr. Beard- sorry, Mr. Bard—Eames memorises the pretty flush on Arthur's cheeks and hides his smile in his beard.
Author:
mizzy2kSummary: Arthur/Eames. Eames is on time for the briefing for the first time in forever. Inspired by the TMW premiere pics @HardysHunni has been tweeting.
Disclaimer: Inception doesn't belong to me..
Wordcount: ~740
Eames has a problem with showing up to anything on time. He and time have a very loose relationship. He knows it drives Arthur wild, and not in a good way. He doesn't actively go out of his way to be late. He just is. And when Arthur's made another of his professionalism in the workplace briefings, Eames likes to pretend he's late on purpose.
But that's all it is. Pretence. Time just doesn't like Eames. The same way maths, spelling and fashion sometimes elude him. All right, maybe all the time. One doesn't need those things in life. Time, though, that's something he wouldn't mind mastering at some point.
It's his fast and loose relationship with time that leads him to showing up at the office with the beard he grew to get past the Australian Custom guys. He meant to shave it off after landing—getting out of Australia was much easier than getting in, after all—but Eames' relationship with hotel beds was much stronger, and his bed at the Grace hotel would be calling his name if it could.
When he woke actually on time for the briefing, Eames thought nothing of it. It was a success with time, one Eames wasn't going to throw away. He did the bare hygiene minimum, threw on his clothes and legged it to the tall building Arthur had texted him the co-ordinates to.
It was a new thing, hiring office space to work in. Invariably their Mark had offices in the building. It made sense, embedding their faces in the Mark's daily routine so them showing up in the dream wouldn't be so odd for their subconscious. It was Arthur's idea, so naturally Eames couldn't say out loud that he was impressed. He covered it up by being obnoxious about having to turn up for work in a suit.
He feels a little better that he didn't have time to iron his suit because that was one insult too far.
Eames takes a few minutes to check the building out, approaching the door carefully, one hand on his weapon just in case this is some sort of bizarre set-up, but when he sees Cobb, Arthur, Jen and Michaelson inside and nothing else, he relaxes, pushing into the room with as much swagger he can muster while on Australian time.
And Cobb pulls his gun on him.
Predictably, Arthur's right up next to him, gun extended before he even looks at what Cobb's pointing at. Arthur, thankfully for Eames' sanity, drops his gun immediately and just stares at Eames instead.
"Shit," Eames says. "Well..." No, there isn't any classy phrase that suits the situation. "Shit. Wasn't expecting you to do me in. 'spose it makes sense," he tags on half-heartedly. It's embarrassing if Cobb has been hired to take him out, but Eames isn't going to waste his potential last words on doing anything to Cobb's already out-of-control ego.
Cobb blinks. "...Eames?"
"Of course it's Eames," Arthur says, his condescending tone on its highest setting. Eames reflects on how it's rather refreshing for its awesome power to be directed at someone other than himself for once.
Cobb actually twitches at having it directed at him. "It's a... well. It's an impressive beard," he mutters, coughing in an embarrassed way as he puts his weapon away. "Sorry for the mix-up," he throws at Eames.
"He was on time," Arthur says, still staring at him. "You weren't to know it was him really, Cobb."
Cobb grunts appreciatively.
Eames shrugs as delicately as he can. "Didn't have time to deal with it," he says, ambling over to have a look at some of the plans already spread over the furniture. He flickers a greeting smile at Arthur as he moves up to lean against the table beside him. "I'll shave it off tonight."
Arthur blinks, and colors slightly, and presses his mouth into a line.
And then he looks at Eames in the same strange way he was staring at him before, and he leans in a little closer. "Don't," is all Arthur says, in a breathy sort of whisper, before reaching up and patting his cheek gently with two fingers.
Eames tracks the movement of Arthur's pale neck as he swallows and pulls away. And when Arthur's briefing them on the Mark, a Mr. Beard- sorry, Mr. Bard—Eames memorises the pretty flush on Arthur's cheeks and hides his smile in his beard.
no subject
no subject
(Anonymous) 2012-01-30 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
MIZZY, I LOVE THIS *_____* ARTHUR'S CONDESCENSION AT THE THOUGHT THAT EAMES IS ANY LESS EAMES-ISH BECAUSE OF THE BEARD. OH MY GOD. KILLING ME ALWAYS.
no subject