Weltzschmerz, by cobweb_diamond (R)

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Fandom: INCEPTION
Title: Weltschmerz - R
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Length: 14,614
Author on LJ: cobweb_diamond
Author Website: masterlist on author's LJ
Why this must be read: For Arthur in this fic, the ability to take any shape your subconscious desires can pose a few significant logistical difficulties. As excellent as he is at keeping Eames from getting too close to his secret, when the bullets start flying, keeping his own heart safe might prove another issue altogether. cobweb_diamond is amazing at writing fast-paced, adrenalin-filled adventures that seem epic without ever feeling too weighty or somber, and her deft, action-centric style feels perfect for this kind of story, for an Arthur who's too used to being reckless, to taking great risks, except in the one area that matters most. Rarely has a felt dealt so honestly with transgender identity issues while also managing to be so much fun.

The next time he sees Eames, he spends all their time together descending almost into self-parody with his overly-intellectual criticism on Arthur’s plans and mocking comments about Arthur’s supposed uptightness. Arthur supposes that this is how Eames does professional distance. He has no idea why Eames even agreed to take a job with him after that last fiasco.

After the extraction’s over and he’s cleared out their temporary workshop, Arthur goes to the hotel bar where he knows Eames will be having a celebratory drink with their chemist. Neutral territory.

Eames is sitting on a bar stool with his feet up on the rungs of the chemist’s stool, companionable and chuckling at something she’s saying. He doesn’t notice Arthur at first, and Arthur takes a moment just to look at him, the gap at his neck where his crisp blue shirt is unbuttoned to reveal tanned skin below. The way he holds himself, relaxed and confidant. His unspeakable shoes.

‘You staying for a drink, Arthur?’ asks the chemist, waving her beer bottle at him.

‘No, I’ve got a plane to catch,’ he says. The plane’s not for another six hours. But he will have to catch it then, so it's not entirely a lie. ‘I just thought I’d say goodbye on the way out. That was a smooth job.’

‘Well done, us?’ suggests Eames mockingly, and takes a swig from his pint.

Arthur and the chemist shake hands. ‘I’ll be sure to recommend you to my colleagues,’ he says.

She winks. ‘Thanks, mate.’

Eames is holding out his hand as well. Arthur doesn’t actually think they’ve ever shaken hands before. Maybe when they first met? He can’t remember. Eames’ hand is large and warm against his own. And strong enough to lift him up between the two seats of a Lamborghini Reventón, he remembers.

Arthur lets go. ‘I told you you’d get over it,’ he says, quiet enough that the chemist will know it’s none of her business, and keeping it nonspecific enough that she won’t know what they’re talking about.

‘That’s what you told me,’ Eames agrees.

Weltschmerz