Ttitle: The Final Countdown

Notes: A sort of prequel to No One Like You but you can read it on it's own

Warning: Slash, Eames/Cobb

isclaimer: I don't own Inception

1993

Eames should have stopped drinking the shots when the room started to wobble. Wobbling rooms – unless you're in Queen's Radio Ga Ga video – are generally not good. He had to blink a couple of times to get the room to stop spinning. He removed himself from the comfortable fort of the sofa, and stood up, beer in hand, looking around for his friend. The sound of singing from the open window made Eames swivel wildly. Where did he go? Because he was sure that Cobb had been sitting next to him a moment ago, rambling something about Renaissance period paintings. Eames padded towards the balcony, taking in a deep breath of cool night air.

'I'm not doing Romeo and Juliet with you, where the fuck did you go?' Eames called, and he looked down and to the left to the courtyard between the flats. Then he looked right, and his gaze followed the hard lines of the buildings.

'Up here' and Eames frowned turning and then looking upwards. Sitting on the flat part of the roof of his 9th floor accommodation, was Dominic Cobb waving his bottle of beer. 'Are you going to join me?' he asked, sounding rather impatient.

'Certainly' Eames replied putting a foot on the second bar of the balcony, balancing his bottle of beer in the crook between his thumb and index finger. He was then leaning to step on the piping, hoisting himself up to sit on the flat part which wasn't covered in tiles. Getting up on that bit of the roof was a skill that many students learned, and it required good hand-eye coordination. Cobb had moved a bit to let Eames have more room, and their legs were hanging down over the edge, swinging.

'What were you saying about Romeo and Juliet?' and Eames whacked him playfully, not trusting his strength to shove him without causing an accident. Eames learnt that about Cobb, that when inebriated he loses his self-consciousness, more cock sure than usual. That's why Eames gets him drunk as often as possible.

'Oh fuck off sunshine… Besides, you're Juliet' Eames said, smirking and taking a hungry swig of his beer.

'Hey! I played Romeo in a production last summer!' he said adamantly, and the protest would have been more indignant if his words weren't slightly slurred.

'Really? I need to see you in those tights' he teased. Cobb's blue eyes went comically wide, and then he dragged a hand down his face. Eames could tell, even in the light, that Cobb had gone slightly pink. The darkness around them covered them in a blanket, shadowing them from everyone else and prying eyes.

'Can you do me a favour? Never say that again'

'What? Or weren't you wearing any?' Eames leaned near him, making sure his breath tickle the hairs at the side of Cobb's neck.

'Daniel' Cobb whined, his voice low, making Eames drop his head onto his partner's shoulder and shake with laughter. Like this he could smell the t-shirt Cobb was wearing, it had the university launderette smell: the washing power that made Eames sneeze. So Eames lifted his head off Cobb's shoulder.

'You know, architecture is about evolution, not revolution'

'Yeah, how do you figure that? I thought, from a Psychological point of view it was about re invention and new ideas. Or am I wrong?' Eames asked, looking across the skyline at the buildings around them.

'It used to be thought that once the Romans pulled out of Britain in the fifth century, their elegant villas, carefully-planned towns and engineering marvels like Hadrian's Wall simply fell into decay as British culture was plunged into the Dark Ages. It took the Norman Conquest of 1066 to bring back the light, and the Gothic cathedral-builders of the Middle Ages played an important part in the revival of British culture' Cobb swayed, a crease in his brow where he was thinking.

'I forgot you did a module on British and European architecture' Eames commented.

'But it applies everywhere really. Different languages, people, cultures, all that affects art and architecture'

'I'm glad I did a Psychology with Literature degree' Eames stretched his feet out in front of him, looking at his converse.

'So am I, I've got my personal shrink' Cobb gulped some more of his beer, and Eames tracked the movement of his Adam's apple.

'Lay off, I'll charge you, you know?' and Cobb chuckled, running a hand through his blond hair. It was short but stuck up in random places in tufts.

'As if I want you anywhere near my subconscious, really' Cobb retorted.

'Scared you're harbouring feelings for… Mr Limington?' Eames said a grin firmly on his lips.

'You are one sick bastard, he's my professor!' and he made noise of disgust.

'Could be worse… could be me' Eames said with a wink, and he put his now empty beer bottle on the roof next to him, curling his hands around the edge next to the bend of his knees.

'In comparison to Mr Limington I assure you, you are the better option to have repressed desires – is that what they call them?'

'You're correct, but repressed? Look at me? I'm the epitome of hot' and Cobb choked on the last gulp of his beer. His partner was giggling for God's sake, and Eames raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to calm down.

'Yes, yes Daniel Eames you are the epitome of hot, whatever. I was referring to… oh I don't know… never mind' Cobb and there was silence between them, and all you could heard was noise from the town and some music from another flat.

'Oh' Eames remembered, 'How was your date the other night? I never saw you to ask' and Cobb ignored him for a few seconds, the town grabbing his attention.

'It was nice. Thanks' his voice soft, and laced with doubt.

'Nice? Oh dear…'

'She was less of my type than I thought'

'Serves you right for taking Michelle's advice over mine, the girl doesn't know what she's talking about' Eames scoffed, knowing full well that his fellow Language student who hung with them sometimes had pushed Cobb in the direction to go out with the girl. Oh she was quite perceptive (not in this case) but she didn't know Cobb like he did, and that made match making difficult.

'I didn't want to say no' Cobb shrugged loosely, and Eames nodded knowing exactly how the boy felt.

'I know'

Another silence and the cold wind got harsher making the hairs on his arm stand on end. Then...

'We're leaving together, but still it's farewell. And maybe we'll come back to earth, who can tell?' Cobb sung lightly, his voice a bit rough but pleasant to the ears. The lyrics registered in his alcohol dubbed brain and he could come up with the second set of lyrics without trouble. It was Europe, The Final Countdown. The song used in sport's tournaments world-wide.

'I guess there is no one to blame, we're leaving ground. Will things ever be the same again?' Eames sung a bit louder. Okay, they weren't the best singers in the world, and they probably sounded drunk, but it was weirdly relaxing.

'It's the final countdown!' they sung in prefect sync.

'Dad da da dadada da da da dadadada'

'The final countdown' and Cobb laughed, closing his eyes. Eames cleared his throat. 'Oh'

'We're heading for Venus and still we stand tall. 'Cause maybe they've seen us and welcome us all, yea' doing a Freddie Mercury impression with the fist to the clouds.

'With so many light years to go and things to be found' Cobb sung his voice cracking on the note.

'To be found' Eames echoed, following the rhythm of the song in his head. It was one of those moments where you are incredibly happy and you don't know why. All he knew, was that when the song ended it will be to quiet.

'I'm sure that we'll all miss her so…' Eames put on a sad face, and then sung the chorus.

'It's the final countdown'

'Dadada da, dada da da da, dada da da dada da da da da da'

The final countdown…..The final countdown'

'Ohh ho ohh' Eames sung, trying to match Joey Tempest's voice, which was bloody hard to do.

'Guitar solo' Cobb said dramatically. And they hummed the guitar tune, then going back to the main theme with all the dadada das.

'The final countdown, oh ho. It's the final countdown'

'The final countdown' Eames echoed.

'The final countdown. The final countdown'
'Ohh'

'It's the final countdown. We're leaving together'

'The final countdown'

'We'll all miss her so. It's the final countdown'

'The final countdown'

'Ohh, it's the final countdown' and the song was finished.

Yeah it wasn't perfect, because they over lapped each other's lines, laughed, and were out of tune in places.

'Keep it down over there' screeched the old lady that lived across the courtyard. Eames wasn't sure whether she was talking to them or the other students. Eames wasn't particularly fussed either way.

The singing had reduced them to giggles, with Cobb crying with laughter and flopping backwards so he lay on the tiles. They stayed like that for a while, not moving, just in their postions. That was until his architect decided to groan about his back hurting and sat up once more, leaning into Eames for support. Only with Dominic Cobb could Eames sit on a roof at sing Europe at the tops of his voice. He put his arm around Cobb's shoulders, liking that Cobb leant closer, letting his blond head drop onto the pad of Eames' shoulder. This was the kind of university friendship everyone wants to have, and most people do find it.

'I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship' Eames sighed, waiting for the reaction. Cobb turned his head, and lidded eyes stared at him with a look that said you sir are weird. Then Cobb shook his head slowly.

'Casablanca' Cobb said without emotion, as though it pained him to know.

'Brilliant film'

'But the quote sort of fits' then 'What time is it?' and Eames looked around at the sky that was once dark, now tinged with a little orange, before looking at his watch. Eames hadn't noticed.

'It's 1.04 am'

'Jesus' and as if on cue he yawned. 'I have a lecture at 8.30 urgh' Cobb grumbled.

'Well get going then. I don't want you falling asleep on top a Styrofoam building complex' he winked, and Cobb just grumbled some more. He was moving, but he froze in position to lift himself up.

'Oh great, it's Mr Limington' he shut his eyes, turned to Eames with a glare. 'You' his eyes narrowed, and he wobbled.

'It's not my fault you are graced with a good imagination is it?' and the boy let out a frustrated sigh. Eames fiddled with the mouth of his bottle of beer, not really having the energy to climb down and go to bed.

'Daniel' and Eames moved to look at Cobb. As he did so, the boy leant forward and kissed the corner of his mouth. It lingered a bit too long, and a part of Eames wanted to tilt his head to capture all of those lovely little pink lips. But it ended and Cobb was already clambering down the balcony. Eames sighed.

'Night Eames' Cobb called, and Eames heard wandering about in the room below.

'Night' Eames called back. He sat there, motionless, and then he growled in frustration.

He had an essay due today. Fuck.

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