katernater (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
katernater) wrote2010-07-21 04:13 am
katernater) wrote2010-07-21 04:13 am
Entry tags:
drabble : inception : arthur / ariadne
come you back to mandalay
fandom: inception
pairing: arthur / ariadne
summary: the heat gets to you
rating: pg-13
word count: 426
It's their first time, but neither of them really cares about formalities or seduction.
They're in Myanmar and the heat is oppressive and there are kids down in the street hawking bottles of water they've filled at the mouth of the Irrawaddy River, some five miles away. Arthur can hear them yelling “Rij! Rij!”, the Burmese word for water, over and over again until the word runs together, falls over itself, and becomes a constant wail in the sweltering afternoon.
Their base of operations is a hotel in Nay Pyi Taw and another two miles to the east, in Pyinmana. More than four Americans in a single hotel room in Myanmar tends to make the state a little nervous, hence the division. Cobb and Eames are in Pyinmana with the new chemist, a fellow called Lang to whom Arthur took a strong, immediate dislike. Ariadne thought there was more floorspace in the hotel in Nay Pyi Taw anyway, so she brought her model making equipment and her intractable optimism about the heat and had proceeded to spread both around the hotel room.
It had taken Arthur twenty-four hours before he'd started organizing her things into orderly piles – a personal record.
There's no order to what they're doing now. The heat of the afternoon bakes their backs and follows them up the stairs. She's lost a shoulder of her jacket and Arthur can see what the sun has done to her skin when she spends her afternoons out on the balcony, building far beyond Burma. Rij! Rij! Ariadne's cool, soft mouth on the side of his throat, just above the collar. He's got his hands on her waist, fingers in the negative spaces between her ribs. Rij grang! Rij grang a lun!
Spilling into the room, he knocks the Do Not Disturb placard from the door handle and stoops to pick it up, only to be yanked upward by his lapels.
“These walls're like tissue paper,” she says, sliding her hand inside of his coat, over his chest, “you really think a sign is gonna' fool people?”
He frowns. “A little discretion --”
“-- is not exactly status quo at this point.”
She's got him there. They move backward into the room, a strange waltz of discarded clothing and the escape of hands to skin. The last thing that either of them part with before they tumble onto the old mattress are their totems: a loaded die and a chess piece.
Neither of them looks to see how they land.
fandom: inception
pairing: arthur / ariadne
summary: the heat gets to you
rating: pg-13
word count: 426
It's their first time, but neither of them really cares about formalities or seduction.
They're in Myanmar and the heat is oppressive and there are kids down in the street hawking bottles of water they've filled at the mouth of the Irrawaddy River, some five miles away. Arthur can hear them yelling “Rij! Rij!”, the Burmese word for water, over and over again until the word runs together, falls over itself, and becomes a constant wail in the sweltering afternoon.
Their base of operations is a hotel in Nay Pyi Taw and another two miles to the east, in Pyinmana. More than four Americans in a single hotel room in Myanmar tends to make the state a little nervous, hence the division. Cobb and Eames are in Pyinmana with the new chemist, a fellow called Lang to whom Arthur took a strong, immediate dislike. Ariadne thought there was more floorspace in the hotel in Nay Pyi Taw anyway, so she brought her model making equipment and her intractable optimism about the heat and had proceeded to spread both around the hotel room.
It had taken Arthur twenty-four hours before he'd started organizing her things into orderly piles – a personal record.
There's no order to what they're doing now. The heat of the afternoon bakes their backs and follows them up the stairs. She's lost a shoulder of her jacket and Arthur can see what the sun has done to her skin when she spends her afternoons out on the balcony, building far beyond Burma. Rij! Rij! Ariadne's cool, soft mouth on the side of his throat, just above the collar. He's got his hands on her waist, fingers in the negative spaces between her ribs. Rij grang! Rij grang a lun!
Spilling into the room, he knocks the Do Not Disturb placard from the door handle and stoops to pick it up, only to be yanked upward by his lapels.
“These walls're like tissue paper,” she says, sliding her hand inside of his coat, over his chest, “you really think a sign is gonna' fool people?”
He frowns. “A little discretion --”
“-- is not exactly status quo at this point.”
She's got him there. They move backward into the room, a strange waltz of discarded clothing and the escape of hands to skin. The last thing that either of them part with before they tumble onto the old mattress are their totems: a loaded die and a chess piece.
Neither of them looks to see how they land.
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Seriously, amazing job. I love Arthur/Ariadne and you captured them so, so well here. God, now I gotta write one.
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I especially like how you got the mood of this across.
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I love the way you write! I can't wait to read more! :)
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This feels like a scene we've simply yet to see. ♥
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Love the image of them not bothering to look at their totems. And the thought of Arthur compulsively organizing is perfect.
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