posted by
lmx_v3point3 at 12:15am on 14/08/2010 under character: eames (inception), character: neil (mysterious skin), fandom: inception, fandom: mysterious skin, fanfiction, pairing: eames/neil, rating: pg-13, type: commentfic, type: crossover, type: one shot
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Fic: Just Not Appropriate
Author: LMX
Fandoms: Inception/Mysterious Skin (Cross-over of absolute win!!)
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Eames/Neil
Spoilers: If you haven't seen Mysterious Skin, this will likely spoil to a certain extent. Less so for Inception
Warnings: Prostitution
AN: Commentfic for
ryuutchi. "Eames meets a kid who reminds him very much of a guy he's never had sex with."
-
It's strange, but Eames had never really thought about 'before' when it came to Arthur. It was as if, in his mind, the man had come fully formed into the world on the day they had met, just as bland and unimaginative as a person could be. Even when he'd thought about how he might mimic the Point Man, if the situation ever arose (he couldn't help it, he deconstructed *everyone* these days), he'd never really thought about what might have gone into building this person. Which for him was downright indolent.
He wasn't a man inclined to research beyond what could be seen at any moment in time. That was more Arthur's field, in truth. But he had always been curious about people, about what made them and shaped them and drove their minds. That was the kind of research he could get behind.
Maybe that was what had brought him here, following a rumour from a friend three times removed that there was a kid down in Kansas that knew the moment someone else stepped into his dream. Something was so different, so unusual about his mind that he knew even if someone went in disguised as a trusted friend.
Of course, he hadn't realised quite what the boy's line of work was when he'd thought he'd take up the challenge.
Now he was standing there, half naked in front of this… thing of beauty… who was grinning wickedly back at Eames like he was nothing, like he wasn't worth his time or attention, like he should be kneeling at this boy's feet.
He'd forgotten why he was there entirely, and only part of that was the unexpected adrenaline that came from anticipation.
For some completely indefinable reason, he couldn't stop himself thinking about Arthur and why he had never, until now, wondered where Arthur came from before Cobb. What had made him into the man he was. What had prompted his mannerisms, his clothes, his complete lack of imagination. Why he could see him somewhere behind the wildness in this boy's eyes. Why he'd never thought about the wildness he'd seen hidden in the back of Arthur's.
(He really needed to stop thinking about Arthur while he was here. He was more than likely going to have work with the man again, and it just wasn't appropriate.)
"I saw the briefcase," the boy's voice was light, hands moving on his body, distracting, but Eames was listening, and he could hear the disapproval in his tone. "I won't charge any more, but you should know it doesn't work on me. Not like you guys seem to expect it to. You better be a damn good architect, is all I'm saying, 'cause the fuckers up there are angry." He gestured absently at his temple, and Eames wondered how the 'clients' before him had reacted to this kid's projections tearing them a new one. Which of them had been calm enough to explain what an architect was, and which of them had just struck out in retaliation.
It was a damn tacky way to get more time out of your money.
"I won't do anything you don't want me to." Eames said, softly, watching for a reaction. Wondering how far that would reach. Measuring his response.
The boy laughed at him. Loudly and heartily and (God he could see Arthur in that smile and he couldn't, all at once - had he ever seen Arthur laugh like that?) damn he was young. And older than he should be. Weary. It would be a real challenge to mimic this boy. Perhaps more than anyone else he'd ever taken on.
He was more curious than ever when the boy dragged him over to the bed and set about making him entirely naked. He wouldn't have said curiosity turned him on before today, but he'd never been so hard in his life.
It was later (a bankroll later, a dream and a rather vicious awakening later) that he started to put it all together. The boy - Neil… saw things for what they were, in the dream just as much as in the real world. It wasn't that he had no imagination, more that he could see things so clearly that the dream didn't look real to him. He could see the not-quite-rightness of it.
Eames began wondering what dreams looked like to Arthur when he was the subject. Whether he could see all the flaws, the paradoxes, the distortions in time.
Absently, as he let himself drift back to sleep, alone this time, he wondered when he would see Arthur next. He had so many questions.
Author: LMX
Fandoms: Inception/Mysterious Skin (Cross-over of absolute win!!)
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Eames/Neil
Spoilers: If you haven't seen Mysterious Skin, this will likely spoil to a certain extent. Less so for Inception
Warnings: Prostitution
AN: Commentfic for
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-
It's strange, but Eames had never really thought about 'before' when it came to Arthur. It was as if, in his mind, the man had come fully formed into the world on the day they had met, just as bland and unimaginative as a person could be. Even when he'd thought about how he might mimic the Point Man, if the situation ever arose (he couldn't help it, he deconstructed *everyone* these days), he'd never really thought about what might have gone into building this person. Which for him was downright indolent.
He wasn't a man inclined to research beyond what could be seen at any moment in time. That was more Arthur's field, in truth. But he had always been curious about people, about what made them and shaped them and drove their minds. That was the kind of research he could get behind.
Maybe that was what had brought him here, following a rumour from a friend three times removed that there was a kid down in Kansas that knew the moment someone else stepped into his dream. Something was so different, so unusual about his mind that he knew even if someone went in disguised as a trusted friend.
Of course, he hadn't realised quite what the boy's line of work was when he'd thought he'd take up the challenge.
Now he was standing there, half naked in front of this… thing of beauty… who was grinning wickedly back at Eames like he was nothing, like he wasn't worth his time or attention, like he should be kneeling at this boy's feet.
He'd forgotten why he was there entirely, and only part of that was the unexpected adrenaline that came from anticipation.
For some completely indefinable reason, he couldn't stop himself thinking about Arthur and why he had never, until now, wondered where Arthur came from before Cobb. What had made him into the man he was. What had prompted his mannerisms, his clothes, his complete lack of imagination. Why he could see him somewhere behind the wildness in this boy's eyes. Why he'd never thought about the wildness he'd seen hidden in the back of Arthur's.
(He really needed to stop thinking about Arthur while he was here. He was more than likely going to have work with the man again, and it just wasn't appropriate.)
"I saw the briefcase," the boy's voice was light, hands moving on his body, distracting, but Eames was listening, and he could hear the disapproval in his tone. "I won't charge any more, but you should know it doesn't work on me. Not like you guys seem to expect it to. You better be a damn good architect, is all I'm saying, 'cause the fuckers up there are angry." He gestured absently at his temple, and Eames wondered how the 'clients' before him had reacted to this kid's projections tearing them a new one. Which of them had been calm enough to explain what an architect was, and which of them had just struck out in retaliation.
It was a damn tacky way to get more time out of your money.
"I won't do anything you don't want me to." Eames said, softly, watching for a reaction. Wondering how far that would reach. Measuring his response.
The boy laughed at him. Loudly and heartily and (God he could see Arthur in that smile and he couldn't, all at once - had he ever seen Arthur laugh like that?) damn he was young. And older than he should be. Weary. It would be a real challenge to mimic this boy. Perhaps more than anyone else he'd ever taken on.
He was more curious than ever when the boy dragged him over to the bed and set about making him entirely naked. He wouldn't have said curiosity turned him on before today, but he'd never been so hard in his life.
It was later (a bankroll later, a dream and a rather vicious awakening later) that he started to put it all together. The boy - Neil… saw things for what they were, in the dream just as much as in the real world. It wasn't that he had no imagination, more that he could see things so clearly that the dream didn't look real to him. He could see the not-quite-rightness of it.
Eames began wondering what dreams looked like to Arthur when he was the subject. Whether he could see all the flaws, the paradoxes, the distortions in time.
Absently, as he let himself drift back to sleep, alone this time, he wondered when he would see Arthur next. He had so many questions.
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Need. more. god. I just. Mysterious Skin. I mean. I was wondering if anyone had done something with this and someone did and now there needs to be more and goddammit it I just ajw;efklsnvalsdfwalkfej coherency is not my biggest concern right now.
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