Adore Adore

Disclaimer: I don't own Inception because if I did I would have made this happen instead of just writing it :)

"Have I ever told you how much you disgust me?" Arthur tells him casually, as soon as he enters the warehouse. Eames is the only other person there, which is odd all in itself, and the predatory look the British man gives him is not promising.

"Repeatedly darling, repeatedly. I think you secretly love it though."

"What is there to love about the way you sexually harass me?" Arthur drily responds as he slides into his familiar seat and starts to boot up his laptop.

"It's only sexual harassment when one of the parties doesn't want it darling." Eames grins as he starts to edge closer to the seated man, who looks up to flash him a look of blatant annoyance.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting Mr. Eames?" Arthur scoffs.

"Oh love, I didn't mean to get your knickers in a twist! Simply stating a fact, even if you're in deep denial over the truth," beams Eames, cheerfully.

Arthur grinds his teeth as he types in his computer passwords. Eames takes a step closer.

"Eames I'm going to ask you kindly to shut up before I am forced to reach into your mouth and rip your tongue out."

Eames is now right behind him, practically breathing down his neck. It makes Arthur hot in a very bad way (or so he likes to think).

"…I don't think you meant for that to sound that kinky, did you?" Faster than lightening Arthur's fist is connecting with Eames' bicep. "Ouch, hey!—Damn, I can't help that everything you say sounds kinky to me! Dammit Arthur stop hitting me!"

"…No."

"You really are a cranky bitch sometimes, you know that?" Eames pouts, moving out of the danger zone.

"Mr. Eames do you think you could survive having your testicles removed? Because that is just about to happen if you say one more fucking thing!" snarls Arthur as he casually flips through files on his desk.

"Even if I told you how much I adore you?" grins Eames. He is standing behind Arthur, so the point man cannot see the softening of his eyes.

"Yes Mr. Eames, especially if you say something like that."

"Do you have something against affection in general, pet, or something just against my affections?" Eames raises a brow, trying to keep the hurt edge out of his voice. "I'm leaning towards the former after seeing the way you handled that bartender last night."

"It was not his job to stand around and flirt with his customers and he had a line forming. I merely saved everyone time by admonishing him."

"Admonishing him?" Eames laughs. "Bloody hell love, you practically emasculated him! Not that I minded watching it, of course, it made for a great good laugh…"

"It was not that funny. I still don't see why Ariadne had to Facebook everyone about it."

"Well dearie, it's not exactly every day that someone threatens to break someone's fingers bit by bit just because they ask for their number. You really are extreme in everything you do, aren't you?"

"It's just who I am." Arthur pauses for half a second, just long enough for Eames to notice. "Do you have a problem with that Mr. Eames?"

"Oh of course not, lovely!" Eames quickly insists. "It's part of the reason for my endless adoration for you."

"What did I say about saying shit like that?" Arthur's back stiffens slightly, and Eames wonders how long he can continue to press this.

"Saying what, darling, the truth? I do adore you." The sincerity in his voice is almost too easy for Arthur to ignore.

"No you don't. You're just looking to have sex with me, don't even bother denying it, and you think that by telling me all these sweet things you can get into my pants."

Arthur is flipping through more files, scouring for information on their latest target. He doesn't even seem to notice Eames move to stand right by his side, because apparently, work is more important than Eames is at the moment, and Eames tries his best not to be too put out. For Arthur, he's learned to always just forge ahead.

"Well I never denied that I think sex with you would be mind boggling," Eames begins, slowly. "But seriously, you think that my aim is only sex? Do you really think that little of me?"

Arthur begins to type on his laptop, his voice oddly neutral when he eventually bothers to answer Eames. "I really don't know what to think of you, Eames. All I know is that you call me ridiculous names and annoy me constantly for no adequately explained reason."

"Ever heard of the phrase 'pulling pigtails'? I do it to get you to notice me, love, and it's been working. You can't properly ignore me."

"Because you're so loud."

"Or because you adore me too, and you don't even know it." Or at least, that's what Eames can only hope.

"Mr. Eames, I insist you stop in this ridiculous vein of thought you're entering. The last thing I feel for you is adoration." Arthur says it so casually that Eames almost gives up. But when it comes to Arthur, how can he ever give up?

"Well then, it must be something deeper than adoration."

Arthur pauses, shots Eames an incredulous look as his lip curls. "You are not seriously talking to me about my feelings right now."

"Unless we're dreaming and I don't know about it then yes, I really am," Eames declares. "You need to come to some realizations darling." Eames approaches Arthur from behind, casually, trying his damn best to be nonchalant, even though the point man is so ridiculously engrossed in his work it was not as though he would notice anyway.

"No actually, I really, really don't—" When Arthur goes to reach for his pen, Eames strikes, ensnaring the delicate yet calloused appendage with his larger, broader one. Immediately Arthur tries to yank his hand away, dark eyes flashing. "Don't touch me!"

"Relax, it's just your hand!" Eames lets his thumb start to run over Arthur's knuckles, feeling the point man stiffen even more. "See, doesn't that feel nice?"

"Let me go before I do what I threatened to do to that bartender to you," Arthur growls, but there is something else edged between his words, making them seem almost hollow. Eames broadens his grin and holds the hand he has taken hostage tighter.

"Aw you would never; after all, we'll need these fingers for certain activities later."

"Only in your dreams Mr. Eames and hopefully not even in them! Spare me your depravity."

"No, I rather think you like it. What will it take for you to admit to that?" Eames leers, and Arthur begins to struggle even more. All it would take is one little harsh hit and he would be free. So why hasn't he done it yet?

"I'd have to be dead and unable to respond ever for me to admit that."

"You are such a wanker."

"And you are such a British annoyance. Now please Eames, as usual I am trying to get some work done so if you'll just—mmpf!"

Eames' lips are frantic on Arthur's and yet at the same time oddly gentle. Even as Eames licks his way into Arthur's mouth his hands are gentle on his neck, where they perch precariously to draw the startled point man in. Eames is not a fool; he knows that this might be the only chance he'll ever have at kissing Arthur so he enjoys every moment, even if the lips are unresponsive and the body is completely stiff beneath his hands.

Just because it's Arthur everything about the kiss seems automatically perfect to Eames.

Even if, by the light pink Arthur is currently turning, Arthur didn't quite think so. Eames makes sure to move across the room before he finds himself tackled by his irate (and stunning) coworker.

One second passed, two. Neither of them moves until Arthur slowly starts to recover, face going carefully blank as Eames winces.

"Mr. Eames…"

A slight pause. Arthur didn't look at him. "….Yes Arthur dearest heart?"

"Why exactly did you just kiss me?"

"I was…expressing affection?" Eames begins meekly, and knows he has to backtrack when Arthur's face turns thunderous. "Oh come now, don't roll your eyes and scoff at me, it's the truth! My God, you really don't know anything about affection, do you?"

"I know enough to realize that yours for me is simply sexual and—"

"'Simply sexual,' he says? I am much more than the philandering ape you seem so keen on making me out as, pet."

"You are lying," Arthur states. Since Arthur is currently not pointing a gun at his face, Eames moves a little closer, and then a lot closer. He gravitates towards Arthur without even realizing it anymore.

"And you are so in denial. Maybe if I kiss you again you'll start to realize it." Because Eames is always one to dream bigger and just take that damn risk, even if it ends in tragedy. And from the look he is getting, it looks as though it will be a tragedy.

"You will never touch me again."

Eames steps closer, within Arthur's reach. Arthur is within his grasp. "Then why aren't you moving away?"

"One more step and I'll break your jaw."

"I don't doubt that sweetheart."

"…."

"Arthur, I promise; no I swear to you that this was never really about sex. Well, maybe at first because come on, you're bloody gorgeous, but after that…Not to sound cliché but what I feel for you is something new to me darling, and I don't exactly want it to go away. Preferably never actually."

Arthur isn't looking at him, taking an express interest suddenly in the paisley shirt Eames is wearing. The tips of his ears are pink. Eames feels something as deadly as hope forming beneath his sternum. "Eames…I swear to god that if you are lying about this—"

"I've never lied to you about anything, Arthur, and I never will. Now can I try to kiss you again?"

A small pause. Arthur's hands flutter in his lap. "Nothing more than kissing?" he asks, and Eames' heart melts a little more.

"Well, at least not at this moment. Just a little kiss, love, just a little one…"

When Eames leans in closer and closer and closer, until his lips are just barely touching Arthur's and Arthur doesn't lean away, Eames almost has to check his totem to make sure that this is real. Especially when Arthur's eyes, so dark and fathomless in front of him, start to slide closed as he presses in, all soft lips and warm breath and velvet skin to seal their lips together.

And then Arthur is suddenly attacking his lips, pressing into him and biting his way into his mouth and Eames can only moan and wonder if this is still the same Arthur who, just minutes ago, had raged on about how vile he was. But who is he to complain?

When they break away, breathless and flushed, Arthur is tangled all around him and didn't look like he was about to move any time soon.

"Eames?"

"Yes darling?"

"…I lied earlier. I don't really think you're all that disgusting. You're just uncouth."

"That might just be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," Eames grins as he holds the slim yet strong body closer. Arthur sighs and it is soft and almost delicate and Eames is fucking dreaming he has to be. Because this can't get better—

And then it does, it really does.

"No it's not, because this is: I think I might, just slightly, momentarily, adore you too. Oh and I won't just break your fingers if you break my heart; I'll break your entire body."

Eames knows then that he will never let Arthur go. "You are just an endless romantic, aren't you?"

SAP.

Fin.