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laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2012-09-16 09:00 pm
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2012-09-16 09:00 pm
All you need is a place to stand by Trojie (NC-17)
Fandom: INCEPTION
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Length: ~6178 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agenttrojie
Author Website: Trojie's stories on AO3
Why this must be read: Trojie writes amazingly good, amazingly hot fic, and even if certain things aren't your kinks, you should read this anyway. You don't usually read cross-dressing fic? This has Eames in a kilt, and it's freakin' hot, trust me. You don't usually read bondage, even light bondage? This has Eames' hands loosely wrapped with Arthur's tie, and it's all about trust. It's metaphorical bondage! Not fond of one of them seducing someone else for work? It happens off-screen, it's necessary to the plot, and seriously, this is all about the difference between what you do because you have to and what you do because you need or want to.
What I love most about this story, I think, is the level of trust between the two characters. Arthur asks for help, Eames goes. Arthur tells Eames he can go home, and Eames follows him anyway. Arthur needs ... and Eames lets him. It's not about feelings and it's not just about sex, it's all about trusting someone with everything that you are, and that makes this an amazing story.
He's wearing a skirt. Deal with it, bitch.
It's easy enough to get into the bar. It's been years since Eames was carded, and the bouncer can't take him, and knows it.
Eames gets past the door, and the noise is a wall, a contrast to the gentle jazz he left behind at the job he's supposed to be at right now, undercover with a drag act, and the complete antithesis of the quiet 3am outside. The crowd in here are screaming and moshing from stage to sound-desk and even back towards the tables and the bar, and Eames never feels self-conscious, but he has a tiny pang of regret for the trousers he left behind and which he could have worn if he hadn't felt like he had to make a point to Arthur.
You don't just call someone in the middle of a job, not unless it's serious, and Arthur will be bloody grateful for his backup in whatever costume it comes in, thank you very much. The only reason Eames changed at all was that floor-length sequins and four-inch stilettos seemed likely to be a serious health-hazard.
'There you are,' Arthur mutters in Eames's ear before he's waded six feet into the building, and drags him backwards towards a table. This is Arthur's gig, and he knows what he's doing, so Eames lets the point man push him into a chair and then straddle his lap, even if it's completely bizarre behaviour. When Arthur leans forward, though, it's only to keep whispering in Eames's ear.
'Don't get overexcited,' he says. 'I need you to go along with this for ten seconds and then tell me I'm too drunk.' He then mouths along Eames's jawline, and his hands find the small of Eames's back.
'Am I going to get an explanation later tonight?' Eames asks, pulling Arthur down into his lap harder, making him grind. His mind is elsewhere, however; finding security, exits, decent-sized bits of furniture in case of the very distant possibility of a fire-fight. Two people that he can spot are carrying, both within striking distance of a man Eames recognises from photos – Arthur's mark, Richards.
'If it goes to plan,' Arthur murmurs. 'If it goes to shit, then I'll tell you when we're far enough away that we've got time to talk.'
'That kind of a scenario, eh.'
'Precisely,' Arthur says, and bites. Little shit, that's going to leave a mark.
On AO3: All you need is a place to stand
If you enjoy the story, remember to feedback the author!
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Length: ~6178 words
Author on LJ:
agenttrojieAuthor Website: Trojie's stories on AO3
Why this must be read: Trojie writes amazingly good, amazingly hot fic, and even if certain things aren't your kinks, you should read this anyway. You don't usually read cross-dressing fic? This has Eames in a kilt, and it's freakin' hot, trust me. You don't usually read bondage, even light bondage? This has Eames' hands loosely wrapped with Arthur's tie, and it's all about trust. It's metaphorical bondage! Not fond of one of them seducing someone else for work? It happens off-screen, it's necessary to the plot, and seriously, this is all about the difference between what you do because you have to and what you do because you need or want to.
What I love most about this story, I think, is the level of trust between the two characters. Arthur asks for help, Eames goes. Arthur tells Eames he can go home, and Eames follows him anyway. Arthur needs ... and Eames lets him. It's not about feelings and it's not just about sex, it's all about trusting someone with everything that you are, and that makes this an amazing story.
He's wearing a skirt. Deal with it, bitch.
It's easy enough to get into the bar. It's been years since Eames was carded, and the bouncer can't take him, and knows it.
Eames gets past the door, and the noise is a wall, a contrast to the gentle jazz he left behind at the job he's supposed to be at right now, undercover with a drag act, and the complete antithesis of the quiet 3am outside. The crowd in here are screaming and moshing from stage to sound-desk and even back towards the tables and the bar, and Eames never feels self-conscious, but he has a tiny pang of regret for the trousers he left behind and which he could have worn if he hadn't felt like he had to make a point to Arthur.
You don't just call someone in the middle of a job, not unless it's serious, and Arthur will be bloody grateful for his backup in whatever costume it comes in, thank you very much. The only reason Eames changed at all was that floor-length sequins and four-inch stilettos seemed likely to be a serious health-hazard.
'There you are,' Arthur mutters in Eames's ear before he's waded six feet into the building, and drags him backwards towards a table. This is Arthur's gig, and he knows what he's doing, so Eames lets the point man push him into a chair and then straddle his lap, even if it's completely bizarre behaviour. When Arthur leans forward, though, it's only to keep whispering in Eames's ear.
'Don't get overexcited,' he says. 'I need you to go along with this for ten seconds and then tell me I'm too drunk.' He then mouths along Eames's jawline, and his hands find the small of Eames's back.
'Am I going to get an explanation later tonight?' Eames asks, pulling Arthur down into his lap harder, making him grind. His mind is elsewhere, however; finding security, exits, decent-sized bits of furniture in case of the very distant possibility of a fire-fight. Two people that he can spot are carrying, both within striking distance of a man Eames recognises from photos – Arthur's mark, Richards.
'If it goes to plan,' Arthur murmurs. 'If it goes to shit, then I'll tell you when we're far enough away that we've got time to talk.'
'That kind of a scenario, eh.'
'Precisely,' Arthur says, and bites. Little shit, that's going to leave a mark.
On AO3: All you need is a place to stand
If you enjoy the story, remember to feedback the author!