Hello :) This is my first Inception fanfic. It has been almost three years since I last watched the movie, so please do forgive me if the characters are a bit off. The story is mostly Arthur-Eames based, tho it is not purely romance. please do expect Sci-fic and action, aside from the romance and drama. Do R&R!
Disclaimer: I do not own Arthur, Eames or any other inception-based idea. the story line is purely original.
Warning: This story will include a homosexual romance.
Chapter 1: Dessert
I woke up to the whiff of cinnamon entangling me for a second. It was bright and warm, but those factors just made my head throb more. The unfamiliar room was white and neat, with a big window looking down to the busy streets. Sitting myself up, I looked around to find a table scattered with several folders, memos, sketches of people, pistols and rifles.
"Eames..." I grumbled knowingly. No one else could have owned such a table. What I did not understand was the fact that I had woken up in his room. I did not recall anything from the previous night. My guard tensed, sensing danger from the unfamiliarity, as my hand naturally reached for my gun. As I slowly made my way out of the room, the smell of cinnamon grew stronger,.
"Arthur?" a voice asked, the accent giving away his British origin.
"Where are we?" I asked, as i stepped into the kitchen. The area was equally bright, the morning rays dancing with the sweet smell of cinnamon. There he stood in the middle, hunched over a gingerbread house, glancing up for a second to meet my eyes.
"My place." said he with indifference. My brows formed a frown, getting tired of the games he played. "An apartment in London." he added quickly, sensing my displeasure.
"London!" A whelp of surprise escaped my lips, even before I had comprehended the situation I was in. "How in the world did I get to London?"
"Long story." I glared at him, ready to give a punch. "Seriously! I'll finish this first. Fix yourself a cup of coffee if you wish."
With that, he went back to the colorful icing, adding sophisticated strokes of red, blue and yellow. I gave a sigh of annoyance, and grabbed for the mug. I went through the cabinet as the water boiled, coming out with some grounded eastern coffee. The room filled with the aroma of the bitter drink, mixing nicely with the sweet cinnamon.
I walked back to where Eames stood, too concentrated on his work to notice me. In the table sat a lovely house, complete with a garden, different colors dancing with each other to form a work of art. It did not look anything like a gingerbread house, but rather a model of an actual house somewhere, too detailed to be a delicacy.
"Hey, who lives there?" I asked absentmindedly.
"What do you mean?" He looked up rather hastily, smudging some icing my in arm in the way. I frowned at the pastel blue paste, annoyed of the mess.
"Sorry!" he exclaimed. He grabbed for the towel, just to realize it was covered in sugary icing of different shade. He grumbled, unsure of what to do, as I stood in front of him impatiently.
"Just lick it off." I half-heartedly suggested. He stared at me, raising a questioning eyebrow.
"Seriously?" He asked, his voice doubting what he heard.
"Go ahead, unless you got a better idea. I can't believe you don't even have tissue in this place. Besides, I hate sweets." He gave a shrug, and grabbed my hands, quite violently to my annoyance. He lift it up, so that the bit of icing, a bright pastel blue just like the sky, was directly facing him. His mouth touched my skin, just where the icing lay, engulfing it whole. His warm but dry lips brushed against my arm, as I felt his tongue scooping out the sweet mess, teasing me to feel every bit of movement. His breath tickled, reminding me of how awkward the whole situation was. I held my own breath, scared that my heart my beat too loud if I let go.
"You're getting too into this." He playfully whispered in my ears. I felt my face grow hot, as I tried to push him away in vain. "You're not getting away, Arthur."
"Let me go." I said softly. I stared at his feet, embarrassed to meet his eyes. He held tightly around my wrist, his other hand securing my shoulders. He just smugly grinned.
"Quick, give me a kiss." He joked. I looked up to evaluate where to punch, but to my surprise, our lips really met. I once again felt his warmth, but this time against mine. My eyes grew wide, hoping to find an escape before i fell deeper into it. He licked me slightly, teasing my mouth to open up. I grumbled, hesitating for a moment, then grabbed his chin, kissing him back. The sweet taste of icing entangled me, blending with the lingering taste of coffee in my mouth. Our tongue danced passionately, but i felt the slight panic Eames felt. Then all of a sudden, the gingerbread house exploded, bursting the room with the sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar.
I pushed Eames back confused, as he lightly wiped his lips. I gave a frown, finally figuring out the whole situation.
"So that's where we are..." I whispered to myself. "I think that's enough games for now, don't you agree, Mr. Eames? I'll be in the living room if you need me." With that, i exited the kitchen with my coffee at hand.
To be continued...