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They stood like points of a compass, Cobb at North, Ariadne South, Arthur West and Yusuf East, each turning to gaze both about and within their group, eyes on the dreamscape and then on Eames who stood within them, still, focused, silent.

Ariadne arched a brow and coiled the world upon itself, a helter skelter of non-reality streaking up into the sky, pavement twisted about trees, sky about soil, light about dark, Cobb audibly catching his breath from where he stood, each of the team gripping their weapons a little tighter.

They each waited, watching the projections still milling about, going about their everyday business in Eames' subconscious - apparently oblivious to the intruders in their midst.

Slightly piqued, Ariadne allowed the dreamscape to settle back into a recognisable world, smiling tightly at Yusuf. "Alright," she conceded, "It's good, I'll give you that, but no compound is going to overrule his psyche forever, no matter the dose."

"It's not about overruling it," Yusuf waved his hands in glee, eyes darting between Cobb's impassive yet somehow pleased expression and the almost Zen-like calm of the Forgers face, "it merely acts as a focusing agent. Eames is aware that he is in a dream and as long as he can maintain control - using the improved formula for both sedative and adrenal management - he should be able to maintain his grip on the dream and protect us from his own subconscious!"

Arthur snorted inelegantly, allowing himself the luxury of such crass behaviour in the depths of the Brit's no doubt filthy mind. "So our wellbeing will depend on Eames keeping his control? Excuse me if I take my safety off." His gun clicked neatly in his hand and Ariadne giggled.

"In fairness," Cobb interjected, "Ariadne's alterations usually have them on us like a pack of rabid dogs by now, I'd say this looks promising."

Ariadne pouted, hating to look even slightly less dazzling in the eyes of the notorious Extractor. "So that's it? Eames didn't react..."

"Yet." Cobb smirked, "He didn't react, ah, recall our first meeting in Paris?"

Ariadne's eyes lit up and without hesitation she proceeded to blow every building on the street even as Cobb twisted the dreamscape into jagged peaks and drops, the ground falling away, flood waters rushing everywhere, fire raining from the heavens.

Eames' lips twitched upwards before settling back into serenity, the dreams rolling through and around the team like so much mist and CGI. This time both Ariadne and Cobb appeared put out even as Yusuf clapped and bounced on the spot.

Arthur sighed, strolling forward through the fire, stepping over chasms and whirlpool eddies 'til he stood close behind Eames, his lips at the Forgers ear.

"I think about fucking you," he murmured, "All the time."

At Eames' side, his knuckles turned white and around them figures faltered, turning.
Arthur licked his lips, letting his breath gust over Eames' skin, allowing several years worth of past frustration to colour his voice.

"Sometimes I think about just fucking your mouth with just the head of my cock, just push it back and forth through those pretty, whorish, fucking cockteasing lips... make you work for it, make you strain to get my come in you, on your tongue, dripping off your chin, spattered all across your fucking face. I think about it when I'm shooting you, when I lift my gun to your head to save your life, I'm really thinking about shoving the barrel down your throat and fucking your tight fucking hole while you deepthroat our only means of escape..."

Something akin to a whimper broke past the Englishman's clenched teeth and with a startled cry Ariadne began to back towards them, gun up, Cobb and Yusuf clustering backwards too.

"He's losing it!" She shouted, half exhilarated, half scared as the projections twisted in upon themselves, rage marring their features into unrecognisable beasts as they began driving forwards through the fire, water and twisted earth.

"They're coming," Arthur whispered, eyes on the muscle leaping in Eames' jaw, "they're coming but you don't care, because all you want now, all you can think about is how much you want what I say to be true. You want to know what it's like to feel me ramming down your throat, you want me out of my 'pretentious prick schoolboy' suits and onto your cock, writhing as you pump yourself in and out of me - fucking dying for just a drop of your come inside me - and worse, even goddamn worse is that beyond that, beyond the fucking and sucking and sticky naked skin, all you really want now is to know what you've started to wonder: whether you could have had that, any of that - all of it - way before now. You want to know whether you could have been balls deep in me for years..."

Eames shuddered, hard and Arthur smiled, cruel and beautiful as the fire and furious horde rushed closer, "You're wondering if you could just have me, right now - and the answer, Dear Mr Eames is," he lifted his gun high and pressed his lips tight to the shivering man's ear, "You'll Never Know."

And with that he sent a bullet straight through his head, leaving the Forger to scrabble madly for his own sidearm as the team executed themselves wordlessly around him, the Projections a bare hairsbreadth away as he sent his own bullet scorching through his skull as one last howl echoed through the dreamscape.



eta: I couldn't resist having Arthur speak THOSE words because this: is HOTTER THAN HELL.