It's a constant shifting balance between the feline and the human. You are Arthur. You choose your own adventure ...

Eames and Mal have been seducing each other for years. But this time, Mal brings backup.

After the Fischer inception, Eames goes back to work as an extractor, and Arthur joins his team. Due to circumstances involving a guy who may or may not be from Greenland, pop astrology, someone's broken limb, hormones, and convenience, they end up learning that love is what starts down below (and makes its way up your spine).

Political crisis managers AU. Arthur and Eames are operatives for rival presidential campaigns in a heated Democratic primary. Can they find love and happiness in spite of all the pies, Republicans, and publicity disasters in their way? Even in the face of the dreaded ELECTORAL COLLEGE SYSTEM? I DON'T KNOW! LET'S FIND OUT!

Still, the wisdom of leaving a family to a man named Dom Cobb was questionable. The phrase "Don Cobb" didn't exactly roll off the tongue, and "Don Dom" was even worse. "Don Dom Cobb". A travesty.

In deserts, wheat fields, and rose gardens, Eames finds Arthur and shakes off the remnants of war. AU, very vaguely based on The Little Prince.

During eight hours in the warehouse on an ill-advised bet, Arthur discovers that Eames is a man with no scruples.

Ten months after a savage split, Arthur climbs down to pull Eames out of limbo.

Eames can't help it. He's never seen Arthur die before.

Eames navigates the preconscious world straight into Arthur's pants.

In the immortal words of Freddie Mercury, Fucking on the subway, fucking on the subway, fucking on the subway on a job.

Arthur and Eames suck at phone sex.

"It's a shame we had to meet like this." She blasts his kneecaps, and then lays a volley into his gut. He's still screaming in pain when Dom finally puts him out of his misery with a quick bullet to the head.

In which Arthur's biology hates him (and the feeling's mutual), Eames' patience is sorely tried indeed, and the future of the educational system is on the line.

Bang bang, we're beautiful and dirty rich.

"I'm looking for a good bra," she smiles again, "I'm sure you hear that every day."

 "Arthur's learned this lesson before."

Arthur is working for Saito at Fischer-Morrow. Robert notices.

"Ah," Yusuf says, lifting a reproving hand, "are we calling less than 24 hours of memory loss amnesia now?"

Ariadne needs a vacation. So does Arthur, but he doesn't know it yet.

Arthur is forced to move in with Eames. The world moves.

Arthur and Eames adopt a kid and raise that kid into Neal Caffrey.

The first time Arthur shoots Eames in the head at point blank range is when Eames falls in love. That’s the beginning. That’s the end. (Or: Tattoo!Arthur gone sideways.)

Could you take my picture? ('Cause I won't remember)

In the months after the inception job, Ariadne slips from one life to another.

It's normal for a young woman almost out of college to seem a little different when she visits her family, right?

It's a mutually beneficial business arrangement and mutually beneficial sex. Arthur can end it any old time he wants. Any time of day.

Possession is a two-way street. There is ownership in letting yourself be taken over. After all, a leash is a rope that works both ways, and both ways are about control.

It took some time for Eames to realise that his relationship with Judaism was no longer entirely based on his relationship with Arthur.

Young military Arthur goes to a sex worker to take care of his ~ass virginity problem.~ Finds an unexpected rapport, is drawn back repeatedly, falls in love, knows it's untenable for a dozen different reasons and doesn't say anything about it... you know the drill. Then the sex worker drops completely off the radar with no warning. Arthur panics, is heartbroken; represses the fuck out of it, forcing himself to move on. Several years later, they meet in dreamshare.

Ariadne works out something's going on between her two colleagues. She just can't work out what, exactly.

Nash is this, Nash is that, but it's far more likely that Nash is just something in between.

Arthur only ever works with Dominic Cobb.

Eames can't get the taste of Arthur out of his mouth.

Eames doesn’t know what he thought worst-case scenario was, but it was never this.

"Does that mean you dream about me at your doorstep often?"

Some days, Arthur knew he deserved what he got. Other days, he still knew it, but he wrapped himself in self-pity, let it encase him like a security blanket, and didn’t know how to settle without it.

Sometimes Eames tells himself lies like he’s setting himself a dare, like how he tells himself he’s in love with Arthur, how he’s desperate to have Arthur love him back. That’s a good one.

Arthur isn't used to making mistakes.

"Is it possible for someone else's memories to get in your head?" Ariadne asks.

"Are we still at the airport?"

No one has better timing than a mother.

Or worse timing, depending on what said mother wants.

"Mum, no," Eames says into the phone, kicking the refrigerator door closed with his bare foot since his hands are currently full of ale bottles and sable paint brushes.

"I had plans," Arthur grates aloud.

Dreamshare is an addiction with some nasty side-effects. Eames and Arthur have a working solution, but when Cobb brings Ariadne into the team, they start to realise that not everyone has a safety-net.

Epistolary fic. Eames wants a job. Arthur mostly wants Eames to shut up.

There's no such thing as an origin, only an origin-story.

Eames wakes up alone.

Arthur and Eames have broken up and moved on. Only they haven't. Sometimes their not-moving-on happens at the workplace and sometimes it happens in hotel rooms. On this particular occasion, it happens in a pool.

Arthur sketches the impossible. Eames does some manscaping. It's just another job, until it isn't.

Arthur and Eames are older, and they have never had sex in their own skin.

The first time they met, it took twenty-eight seconds for Eames to start hitting on Arthur. It took a good five hours for Arthur to point a gun at Eames’ head.

Eames is very good at pretending.

"Not that your sex confessions aren't entertaining, Eames, but I call bullshit."

Eames secretly hates working jobs with Ariadne, because they always end up working out of Paris, so that she can still attend classes, and Eames hates Paris. Hates it with a passion so bigoted and without foundation that he suspects he inherited it.

“I don't think the definition of 'easy' includes being shot at by Russians and getting cock-blocked by your best friends!” Arthur shouts.

This could be the beginning of something amazing ... if Dom and Mal will only stay out of Arthur's way. A story in which there are Russians, Arthur spends a lot of time in his underwear, and (sadly) no one gets laid.

Whatever life Dom had in America, he’s left it behind as thoroughly as Arthur, and neither of them ever push the other for their life stories. Arthur likes to think that it’s because he and Dom agree about why everything that came before doesn’t really matter. That they both know their lives began when they met Eames and Mal.

In which Eames embarks on a campaign of seduction and Arthur mostly just wants someone to hang out with other than Cobb.

After his mother "retires," Arthur finds himself in need of a new business partner. He gets a bit more than he bargained for with Eames. OR; in which Arthur becomes a real boy.

Hate him, love him. It doesn’t matter. He’s still Arthur’s.

“This isn’t something we do, Eames. It’s something we are.” Magical realism, soulbonding, d/s fusion.

The perils of fucking on the job.

"That was weird."

It was a testament to Ariadne's love of the English language (because she loved to watch ideas be constructed, even linguistically) that she was distracted from the current predicament enough to say, "I am going home, slapping some glitter on a trophy, and making you the Understatement of the Year Award you so very much deserve."

It was not a testament to anything regarding Arthur that he stuck out his tongue, flipped both of them their very own bird, and shouted, "Fuck you, fascists!" Then he kicked a table over.

"Gosh," said Eames in a tone that tread a careful line between wonder and deep-seated fear. He pushed his thick glasses up his nose.

Eames is a demon. Arthur is a priest. Predictably, they fall in love.

Dreaming, driving, dying; this is a story about how things don't change.

Written for this prompt at inception_kink - "When the next generation of Somnacin compound gets released, people start experiencing odd side effects; they dream about their past lives. The next time Arthur & Eames share a dream, they come across a startling revelation - they've been lovers in every single incarnation of their past selves, finding each other no matter what their form, no matter what obstacles had stood in their way."

From the beginning of their relationship, Eames has always been the one to find Arthur. A story in which Arthur is kidnapped, Eames is a hopeless romantic, the past informs the present, and true love conquers all.

The story of how Eames and Arthur meet is one of the great legends of the dream-sharing profession.

In it, there's a dark alley, a foreign country, a bar, a punch in the face, a loaded die, a poker chip, a three-piece suit, and a kiss. Not necessarily in that order. And not necessarily all the time.

Arthur gets out of a bad situation and into a nice suit.

Arthur is a full-service masseuse. Eames is his favorite customer.

"But God knows this can't last. You're going to find someone you do want and I'd just as soon finish this before that happens."

Eames is silent for a long time before he says, "It's not going to happen."

"Statistically speaking," Arthur starts, but Eames doesn't let him finish.

"Statistically speaking, love," and his voice is almost a cruel imitation of Arthur's, "if it hasn't happened in thirty-three years, it's not likely to happen now."

Eames probably would have been pleased with a sandwich, but Arthur's got a knack for making Eames happy in surprising ways.

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.

~ Dr. Seuss

“Just once,” Eames says, “I wish you’d let me come round when I’m not in mortal peril.”

“Yusuf,” she says, dangerously, “did you give my point man a love potion?”

Eames doesn't deal in fractions.

Arthur doesn’t quite know when renting a house in Westchester and pretending to be in a civil union with Eames came to constitute "lying-low" but however it happened, he wants a do-over. Pretending to be married fic!

In which Eames writes (sometimes horrible) horoscopes to woo Arthur, much to the chagrin of everyone (read: Dom), and manages to even mess that up. Go figure.

"Arthur, you're about to be deported."

Arthur tries normal life as a bank manager after the Army shuts down its PASIV program, until Eames comes along and steals that normal life right out from under him.

Eames is a factory worker, a troubled migrant, and a madman. The city of Los Angeles stretches around him, writhing with dreams, and Eames can't shut them out.

Arthur and Eames sabotage each other's jobs-- until they can't anymore. Or: How Arthur and Eames Learned to Stop Worrying and Make Their Own Form of Social Capital.