Jun. 7th, 2011

ladderax: (Default)
He looks like any other human, Arthur told himself. Same soft, flat skin. Same unshaded eyes; you can see everything they’re thinking. Boring. Nothing different about this one.

This particular human was standing in the door of his flat in Buenos Aires, smiling broadly. Warmly, almost.

“Arthur! What a surprise.” He moved aside slightly to indicate that Arthur could come in if he wanted, or not; either way, no skin off his…whatever the expression was.

His hair had grown; it was softer, wilder than he remembered it, showed more of the sun’s influence. He was wearing a blue, green and white striped Oxford that, as usual, didn’t fail to hint at the shape of the body beneath it, chest broad and convex as though he were always in the middle of taking a deep breath. It was still difficult for Arthur to not want to press his hand to Eames’s ribcage, to feel how subtly dynamic those thick, deep muscles were, to feel him tense and shift and breathe.

“Well, how have you been? Clearly I don’t need to tell you that it’s been awhile. You were in Boston?”

“Paris.”

Eames’s blithe gregariousness was more puzzling and sad than the coldness Arthur had expected from him.

“Ah. I knew it was one of those two.”

It was a transparent, childish parry, an old favorite of Eames’s, and one Arthur had used himself with Rochal. Pretending not to know something that was common knowledge, for the sake of convincing your opponent how little they mean to you.

Still, maybe Eames really hadn’t known.

“Eames, look. There’s a reason I came here.”

Eames stuck his hand in a pocket and fiddled with something clinking in there, keys or coins. He wore a haughty, amused expression that reminded Arthur why he’d often found the man so fucking irritating.

Read more... )
ladderax: (Default)
“Arthur, what the bloody hell do you need 100 milligrams of pancuronium bromide for? Planning to open up your own executioners’ practice?”

“You’ll understand when I show you. Also, I need a rat.”

“You need a rat?” Eames sat up in bed, flicking the lamp on. Now Arthur could clearly see his incredulity. “Well. I’m sorry our sex life is already too vanilla for you, if you want to bring rodents and muscle relaxants into it.”

“This is serious. I have to show you something.”

“Dear fellow, I think we can be certain that rats are not immune to large doses of lethal drugs. Can we move onto more unproven questions , like-- ”

“Eames, will you stop trying to dazzle me with your rapier-sharp wit and shut up and listen.”

He closed his mouth and nodded, looking a bit sheepish.

“I have to tell you something. I really didn’t want to tell you this, now or ever, but if we’re going to mean anything at all to each other, I have to get this out of the way. Or else whatever we have will be meaningless. All your feelings will be for someone who doesn’t actually exist.“ He swallowed hard, and grasped Eames’s hand. For what felt like a long time he was unable to continue. Eames stared at him blankly.

I'm an alien. )

Profile

ladderax: (Default)
la pellegrina

May 2012

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
131415161718 19
20212223242526
2728293031  

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 22nd, 2017 06:50 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios