what, boasting, darling?Кто написал: дуглас
Бета:
selfilleНазвание: нет
Фандом: Inception
Пейринг: Артур/Дом/Мол
Рейтинг: PG-13
Жанр: ррроманс, артурцентрированно
Предупреждение: флафф, фу. и ничего там такого нет.
От автора: never have I written such a fic before. в смысле флаффа. (бете моей - чмоки, когда выйдет на связь.)
читать дальшеI
After they woke (and it was like coming to the surface through the heavy dark weight of water, like leaving the Earth’s atmosphere, like driving the highway at top speed), they just laid there for an hour - an hour of slow and quiet contemplation. They had to get used to each other once more. Many, many years had passed them by, and many, many years had passed through them, and it was so beautiful just to lay there and watch their room where they had been sleeping; the sun, drowning the room in its orange light; the shadows, dancing on their figures like the tongues of flame.
Finally, Dom stood up and helped Mal do the same. They kissed, again and again, and there was something trembling in the depths of Mal’s eyes, but Dom just said, “I love you, Mal,” and she silently pressed her lips to his neck.
The silence was ruined soon by the shouts and laughter of their kids, and there was nothing else to do except go down the stairs and abandon their dream, long as the life itself.
“We’ve got a lot of experience,” said Mal while they were drinking tea late in the evening. “I don’t think we can keep it a secret. Dom, we can share it.” Her big charming eyes smiled softly as she sipped her tea. “We can be like teachers - no, like mentors, only younger than mentors usually are. There’re many people who would like to learn how to dream.”
“But darling, it can be harmful.” He put his cup on the table and looked her seriously in the eyes, his lips opening and halting before he told her, “our knowledge can be used for criminal purposes. Look, in espionage--”
“But people are already using the new technologies,” she interrupted. “It’s the way every new technology comes to this world. We can do nothing to stop it, really.”
Dom couldn’t find an argument, and he gave in.
“So, who will we teach?”
She chuckled quietly and circled the edge of the cup with her pointer finger. Dom caught it and kissed it, and she laughed again.
“Dear, it must be someone who both you and I will love.”
II
“What am I doing here?” Arthur just can’t stop asking himself. Not that he needs answers, no, because they are obvious to him. Like, “I’m sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee made by Dom in my hands.” Or like, “I’m touching Mal’s hair and she is laughing and asking me if I want to brush it.” Even like, “I’m lying between Dom and Mal and they are tickling me, shit!”
He can’t stop admiring them: her grace and his strength, her eyes and his arms, their lively minds and vivid imaginations. They are such a great (simply great) pair that they, Arthur believed, can do everything, and the whole fucking world will fall to its knees before them.
It’s like he has found that mysterious place in the world that he could call his own, that many people seek and cannot even get close to. His place is near them, between them - and in their dreams, too.
“Arthur, dear, a penny for your thoughts!” Smiles Mal and squats down near him. “Are you worried about something? Tell us, please.”
Arthur clears his throat and feels her fingers on his jaw. “It’s nothing, Mal,” says he, gazing at her eyes. Oh, those eyes, those wonderful, precious, curious and enchanting eyes! He can’t get enough of them, ever.
“Is it really nothing?” Dom asks mockingly, entering the room. “Or are you hiding something from us?”
“How can I hide anything from you?” Asks Arthur seriously. “I don’t even understand how it’s possible.”
Dom and Mal smile, and Mal kisses him on the cheek, and Dom sits by him and embraces him with one hand, and it feels like melting away, like losing himself in their touches and smells.
The setting sun brushes him lightly when he loses his control and smiles to them openly, hugs them closely and whispers, “God, guys, you want to drive me crazy, and I’m going to give in.”
III
The dawn is breaking. The first gray rays of light leak through the curtains and spread all over the bedroom. In the half-light Arthur opens his eyes and sits on the bed, sleep still embracing him. He looks at his hands (Mal had taught him to look at his hands after awakening, and said that if they were growing transparent, then her Arthur was dreaming), and then he looks at the clock. The three of them sleep together with their legs tangled and warmth mixing. Mal always sleeps between them. He and Dom are like her protectors, though Arthur doubts such a strong woman really needs his protection.
Their relationships are strange. Mal was the first who kissed him and said, “Arthur, I love you, my boy,” and she was shining with the utter blessedness. He was caught off guard and didn’t understand her, just stood there and felt her sweet lips on his. He managed to breathe out, “Dom is--”
Dom was there behind him, holding him by his waist, and he said into Arthur’s ear, “From now on, you cannot run away.” Arthur was scared at first; he tried to break away, but their confessions and whispers wrapped around him, and he suddenly knew: he was trapped. He was caught.
He was let into their happiness.
Arthur runs his fingers over Mal’s tender skin. She stirs in her sleep. Dom murmurs something and opens his eyes, his eyelids trembling slightly. He sees Arthur and asks him, “What’s the matter? Too early to get up.”
“Don’t worry, go to sleep.” Arthur bends over Mal and kisses Dom on the forehead. Dom closes his eyes and licks his lips, eager to get more, but he really wants to sleep, so he pulls Arthur down and puts his arm around Mal and him.
Happiness, that’s it.
IV
They sit in the cafe. The cafe is small and neat and exquisite in details, like the vases, napkins and covers of the menus. They drink coffee, and Arthur feels strangely full. Butterflies flit chaotically in his stomach, brushing their wings lightly over its inner walls. He knows that there’s nothing he should be concerned about, that’s just because of the way Mal feeds him cheesecake with a fork and Dom holds his hand. Nobody watches them.
They are alone, and even the bartender has gone into a small kitchen.
“I think we’ve taught you everything we can,” Dom begins delicately. “You can tell reality from a dream. You know how to get into and out of a dream. You know how to operate a PASIV and you even know about multiple layers… ”
“But you lack imagination,” says Mal thoughtfully. “Dom and I are builders of a dream, and you? You can only be a supporter.”
“So what if I can be only a supporter?” Arthur replies. He somehow feels cold inside because of Mal’s words. She is right, of course; Arthur can control his actions, not a fragile dream construction. “On the other hand, I never lose my sense of reality.”
Dom smiles and nods. “And the time. You’ve got a perfect sense of time.”
Arthur glances at him smugly, and everybody laughs. Mal finishes her coffee and giggles, “You can leave your boring job and join us, the real dreamers. Will you?”
“I don’t even need time for thinking,” Arthur confesses, “as my answer is always yes to you.”
“And if I ask you to jump off…”
“You will never ask him, dear,” interrupts Dom and kisses Arthur roughly. “Let’s celebrate the end of your training.”
“Celebrate?” Whispers Arthur and trails off, uncertain.
Dom and Mal exchange sly looks and stand up simultaneously. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. Let us show you some love,” says Mal, insinuatingly. Dom can’t help chuckling, and they leave the cafe.
V
Arthur finds himself standing on the seashore. The big snowy moon lazily reflects in the black calm waters. Waves kiss the sand, rolling in their inevitable rhythm. When crashing against the rocks far away, they sigh loudly. The stars are singing in the high cloudless sky, their light covering Dom’s and Mal’s faces like a silver gaze.
It’s so good that Dom, who has been rather somber lately, stands beside him now and watches the sky. A gentle smile plays on his lips. Mal sits on the sand with her arms around Arthur’s legs. “They still try to show me that I’m a part of their life, that they need me and want me to be with them,” thinks Arthur. “But they don’t need to prove that, really.”
He repeats his last thought out loud. They look into the sea, and then Dom says, “I’ve built a small town for us. Tried to make it cosy.”
“Darling, I feel tired,” smiles Mal cunningly. “Let’s stay here on the shore. I like this scenery, and the firmament is just like real. Look, Arthur, all the constellations are in their places, and the moon is magnificent. Oh, my boys,” and she pulls Arthur’s trouser leg. “Come on, sit down.”
He sits, and she lays his head on her knees. Dom sits down, too. He takes off Arthur’s boots and runs his hand over the curves of his body, over his side and thigh, enjoying the sensation.
Mal looks tired, blissful and enigmatic all at ones. She kisses Dom lovingly and tilts her head. She starts to narrate a tale about the Star-Child, but in the middle she says that it is a sad fairy-tale, so she tells them a story of the Happy Prince instead. At the end she smiles, says that she is probably happier than the Prince, and they sit there, leaning against each other, listening to the waves and each other’s breath.
There is nothing to say at the moment, and yet Arthur whispers, “I love you.”
They know it.
@настроение:
грёбаное, грёбаное форматирование через задницу, дорогой дневничок
@темы:
a fic