Straitjacket Feeling

Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, or anything related to it, though it's apparent that I admire the heck out of it since I'm writing fan-fiction! My title is also an All American Reject's Song, and no, I don't own them or their music either. I just fell in love with the song around the time I thought of this story. For some reason, it just fits. I used a line from the chorus, sort of but tailored it so it would sound less like a lyric but still tie into the main theme. I also couldn't help but make a Red Hot Chili Pepper's reference, so again, 'No I don't own the rights to their song that concerns a roller coaster' which I also played with a chorus line from too.

A.N- So, my very first Inception fic. It took time, but well, I've had this idea for two months and needed to get it out. Just as a reminder, this is a slash fic starring our two favorite dream-workers, Eames and Arthur. They are my ultimate pairing when I think of Inception- Arthur is with Eames just like Peanut Butter is with Jelly! I intend for this to be a three part story and feel that since Spring Semester is ending soon, I should reward myself with the attempt to write fan fiction rather than essays.

Chapter 1- In Which Something Unfortunate Happens To Eames

It was meant to be practice.

Safe.

'Just a little test,' Yusuf had assured him.

Under the effects of a new chemical compound designed for the PASIV, Eames had opened his eyes and found himself on a barren shore, where there was nothing but swaths of seaweed stretched across damp sands decorated by loose cobbles and shells.

Looking around himself, turning a full 360 degrees to get the full effect of his new surroundings, Eames didn't quite catch on to what was going to happen until it was just a bit too late.

He didn't know what made him turn to look over his shoulder as the sun shone on him and his barren stretch of beach, the air taking on the neon-white glow of truly surreal dreams…without the water Eames could think that he was really lost on a distant and strange desert.

His eyes widened in shock- a sudden tidbit of information struck him from ages old courses in earth sciences- 'And, what Mr. Eames would be the product of an earthquake on the seafloor?'

The shadow of the wave, miles high and so blue it made his eyes ache to stare at it, swallowed him with ease as he recalled his response to his professor's question.

'I believe sir that an earthquake generated wave would be called a tsunami.'

All it took was another breath for him to be struck down, submerged, and swallowing down a great lungful of water the color of cerulean.

And the trouble wasn't over after he awoke from the dream with jerk and a long indrawn gasp accompanied by a bout of choking.

The trouble was only just beginning…

Now, when Arthur was brought into this situation, he had no idea what foolish things Eames had done or agreed to. Arthur was very carefully and precisely working on working. That's right- our Point Man had spent the better part of six months after Inception ignoring that things had changed.

Ridiculous really. Of course everything had changed! Dom was a free man and could once again be with his children. Dom had also nearly killed the entire team when the failure of Inception had been imminent.

Saito had survived his crash course learning experience about how it didn't matter how freaking rich and powerful you were in real life when you could have your brains turn into the equivalent of banana pudding after dropping into Limbo.

Ariadne was hooked on more than dream work and in the last six months had become quite attached to Dom. Arthur wouldn't lie- despite being in a life or death situation and risking Limbo with the aforementioned threat of a brain like banana pudding, he was even more afraid of the young Architect taking the diversionary tactic of his kissing her in front of Fischer's projections as something more.

Arthur wasn't the type to start relationships with young female Architects. He might not have started anything if Ariadne had actually been male rather than female either. While he tilted in that direction, he had already set his cap for someone and even then, he was still not so very happy about it.

He knew one person that would be ecstatic about the change of heart and would probably have much to say to his 'darling' about the length of time it took to admit to it.

Arthur felt fairly certain that Eames would use the word 'confess', saying it with just the right tone, eyeing him with a pleased smile, enjoying himself greatly while trying to catch the Point Man squirming.

The Point Man would never admit to squirming, but every time he thought about the situation, he imagined himself with a cluster of butterflies in the pit of his stomach. When Arthur thought of Eames, he had the same feeling as he did when thinking of roller coasters.

Arthur enjoyed roller coasters. He did. But at the same time as he strapped himself in he would go over the many statistics and figures that were related to the number of accidents and fatalities that were the results of mishaps involving roller coasters. When Arthur thought of the Forger he would experience that same fluttering of nervous anticipation in the pit of his stomach- he wanted the man, but was also busily weighing the prospects of putting himself in danger- never mind that in this scenario his body would be reasonably safe while his heart and feelings were what would be the most likely to take a hit.

Your love is like a roller coaster, baby-baby. I want a ride!

As the words of the popular Red Hot Chili Pepper's song came to mind, Arthur forced the thoughts away to attend to the report he was typing- He was going to focus on their latest job, the young man they were going to be doing a 'kind-of-sort-of-but-not-really-illegal' extraction of information from had a busy schedule and it was up to Arthur to find a way to make this work and iron out all of the angles so Dom could examine it- then they would go over the team.

Ariadne would definitely be required. Yusuf the Chemist, as well.

As Arthur's thoughts were dragged once more to the Forger, he was shocked out of his musings when his cell phone rang.

Peeking at the glowing face of his phone as he quickly finished the sentence he had been working on before his thoughts had been drawn to the conundrum that was Eames and his unexplainable feelings for the man, he clicked on the proper icon to save the document and reached for the phone before it rang for the third time.

In his first glance he had noticed that it was Yusuf calling him.

It is here that it should be pointed out that Arthur didn't expect anything more than Chemist chatter- nothing mind blowing. Nothing that would scare him. And nothing that would make him regret picking up the phone and look back later on the seven days that followed with misery and something close to hate.

Because before he answered the phone he had been reasonably certain that he didn't deserve any bad treatment from the capricious hand of fate. His hard work had contributed to the success of Inception (and yes, Eames got to compliment him dozens of times over for completing the kick while in free fall, though the elevator definitely helped his plan pay off- it didn't matter because Eames had called him 'love' and 'darling' and 'brilliant' all in the same sentence while Arthur had pretended not to preen under the pet names). Arthur was reasonably certain that if it hadn't been for his gentle rejection of Ariadne's misplaced affections after the completion of Inception, Dom wouldn't have a young and brilliant girlfriend.

There were more instances. He was sure of it. But every thought blew clean from his mind leaving a rather startled blank, when after he had said hello, Yusuf dropped the bomb on him.

"Something has gone wrong. I need you here now."

Arthur had felt his brow furrow, confused as to what the Chemist could require of him. And after another second, the man said in a rush, "It's Eames."

Then the Point Man could feel it. It was the butterfly feeling he got, the fluttering little sensation that struck him whenever he happened to be about to take that swift first drop from the crest of the coaster- the same feeling he got whenever he was looking at Eames with his scruffy hair, unshaven face, clothes that didn't have a chance of even appearing to match, the man having just sent him a comment that was so annoying or suggestive that Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to slap him or just kiss him and get it over with!

Arthur felt…confined. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. He didn't want to think but it seemed to be the only thing he was capable of doing right now- just zip through all the possibilities while Yusuf chanted something into his ear through the line of the cell phone that was fading in and out with a series of crackles and pops.

Straitjacket, Arthur thought to himself. No more butterflies for you- Try this on, it's your straitjacket feeling…

As Arthur swallowed hard, the idea of vomiting sounding perfectly rational, he realized that the arm that was free and not pressing the phone to his ear had wrapped itself across his chest to clutch at his shoulder. He shuddered and keyed into what Yusuf was saying.

"- Arthur? Are you alright? Please, you have to come and come quickly he's-," Yusuf's voice cut out with a pop and then the call ended.

That didn't leave Arthur with many options at all. He laid the silent phone on the table top and rose to his feet. When he realized that he was still holding himself he tried to force himself out of his own hold, jerking his arm away from his chest and breaking the grip he had on his own shoulder.

His arms tingled and buzzed with that phantom feeling of the straitjacket- he shook his hands and tried to dispel it.

There was no question of what he was to do. When he noticed that his hands had stopped the minute twitching tremble after his vigorous shaking to get the blood circulating and force away that mental image of being bound in such a way he felt ready. He powered down his laptop, grabbed his coat, and locked up their temporary offices. Then, Arthur was gone, off like a shot, and running to the Chemist's.

Strait-jack-et (noun) 1. A jacket-shaped garment with long sleeves that can be tied together, used to restrict the arm movements of somebody who is thought to be dangerous. 2. Something that limits somebody's freedom of action or initiative.

A.N- Okay, I'm having so much fun already! Please read, review, and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.