Work Text:
“He’s says they’ll be here by 08:00 tomorrow, weather permitting.” Arthur snaps the phone shut, the crease between his brows working its way into a full scowl.
Cobb dumps his duffle and the PASIV case next to the bed and flexes his hands, his fingers already stiff from the cold. “Looks like Saito might be losing his touch.”
“You’d think if there was anyone who’d keep a guy on staff just to drive through blizzards in the middle of the night, it’d be him.”
“So much for the back-up plan,” Cobb sighs. “Looks like we’re staying the night.”
Arthur’s brows shoot up. “Here?”
“No, Arthur. In the other abandoned hotel down the road. Of course here.”
“Dom, I told you. This place has no heating, no electricity, nothing. If that storm out there gets any worse—” he shakes his head. “We should get back in the van, get on the road while we still can. We’re not that far from civilization—there’s got to be a farmhouse around here... something...”
Cobb frowns. “Too risky. Better to lie low here. At least we’re under cover. And we have blankets.” He picks up a pillow, throws it at Arthur’s chest and Arthur catches it with an ‘oomf’. “It’s only for one night. We’ve had worse.” he adds with a rueful smile.
“We have, sure, but Ariadne and-”
“Ariadne what?” comes a voice from the doorway. Arthur steps forward to take some of the boxes from the pile she’s got towering in her arms.
“Where are the others?” he asks, setting the equipment down beside the bed next to Cobb’s bag.
“Securing the area.” she unloads the rest of the stuff and cups her hands in front of her face, blowing on them like that will somehow make her warm despite the fact that she’s already wearing a pair of the world’s largest mittens.
Arthur smirks. “Where’d you get those?”
“Eames.” she answers between breaths.
He can feel his face falling before he gets a chance to pull it back together. “Eames.” Arthur doesn’t know why he’s surprised, not really. The mittens are yellow with little felt happy faces on them. They look home made. Of course they’re Eames’s.
Ariadne starts stepping from foot to foot, like she’s trying to keep her circulation flowing. “You’re shivering.” Cobb notices. He pulls the top blanket from the bed and tucks it around her shoulders like Arthur’s seen him do with Phillipa after she’s climbed out of her bath, rubbing at her arms a little before stepping back.
“Thanks.” She grins, bemused. “So has anyone called Saito?”
“He can’t be here until morning.” says Arthur, keeping his eyes on Cobb like maybe the visual of a half-frozen Ariadne standing next to him will convince him that the plan of driving on in search of a house with actual electricity is clearly the better option.
“I guess that means we’re staying the night.” Ariadne huffs, flopping down onto the nearest couch and completely undermining Arthur’s use of her as a bargaining tool.
“It’s only one night.” Cobb repeats.
“Well at least we have blankets.” she shrugs up at them.
Arthur can feel himself grinding his teeth.
“Arthur, are your teeth chattering?” Ariadne’s grin is a little too gleeful for Arthur’s liking.
“No.” he shoots back, only to have her roll her eyes at him.
“Alright, that’s it.” she shifts around under the blanket, lifting the corner and waving it at him.
“...What?”
“Oh come on, it’s glacial outside and you’re dressed in a shirt and vest. What, you think that scowly-Arthur-face is enough to keep you from freezing your ass off? Think again, buddy. Get over here.”
“I do not have ‘scowly-Arthur-face’.”
“You totally do. Now man up, boys, because tonight, we cuddle.” She waves the blanket again, adamant. “That goes for you, too, Cobb.” she raises an eyebrow at him when he starts laughing at the expression on Arthur’s face, cutting him off mid-chuckle. “Hurry up, you’re letting all the cold air in.”
Arthur can’t help but grin at her, incredulous. “Seriously? Look, I can’t just sit down and... and cuddle all night, okay, there are things I—”
“Not tonight, there’s not. You want to lose all your toes to hypothermia, fine. Do it on your own time. Right now, I’m in charge, and I say it’s time to share some of that body heat.” she orders.
Arthur looks to Cobb. “She’s in charge?”
“I have the only blanket. That makes me your god.”
Cobb shrugs, though he looks about as comfortable with the whole thing as Arthur feels. “She has a point. And you were the one complaining about the lack of heat.”
“You’re all ridiculous. I want you to know that.” Arthur glares, stalking forward to grab the edge of the blanket and crawl under it beside Ariadne, who smiles at him happily. “Don’t even think about leaving.” he growls at Cobb, who’d started to make shifty eyes at the door, grabbing for his wrist and pulling him down onto the couch with them.
They manage to find a position that’s mildly comfortable, where Arthur’s hip isn’t digging into anyone’s side, when Yusuf comes strolling into the room.
“So apparently this place has been abandoned just long enough for all the useful stuff to have been looted, but there’s a large mahogany table in the dining r-- what’s going on here?” he cuts himself off when he looks up to see the group of them huddled together, Ariadne basically reduced to a pair of eyes blinking up at him from beneath the folds of the blanket.
“We’re conserving body heat.” Arthur says just as Ariadne answers “We’re cuddling.” Yusuf’s eyes light up as she lifts the edge of the blanket for him. “There’s still room if you want in.” He’s across the room and under the covers in less than a heartbeat, snuggling into Ariadne’s side without the least bit of embarrassment, like it’s the most normal situation in the world.
“You were saying about a table?” Cobb prods.
“Oh yes. There’s a wooden table in the dining room. It’s old, but it should be easy enough to dismantle. There’s a wood stove in the kitchen we can use to burn it in. I figure a small source of heat is better than none.” Yusuf stretches his arm across the back of the couch until Arthur can feel his fingers brushing against his collar. He shifts forward just enough for the arm to drop away from his neck and over Ariadne’s shoulders instead.
Cobb nods. “Is Eames working on it?”
“No, he’s still out making sure this place is locked down. I can take the thing to pieces well enough on my own, I just came back here to see if anyone has any matches?”
“They’re in my satchel. Side pocket.” Arthur points with his chin, not really interested in moving his hands from where they’re nestled warm between his thighs.
“Ah, thank you.” Yusuf nods, but makes no sign of getting up.
“Did you want help with it?” Cobb offers, but judging by his tone he isn’t exactly thrilled by the notion of leaving behind his spot on the couch, either. Funny how quickly things turn around when you can suddenly feel your fingers again for the first time in hours.
Yusuf makes a face. “Actually, if any of you have any idea of how to build a fire, I could definitely use the input.”
“You don’t know how to build a fire?” Ariadne snorts.
Yusuf straightens, as much as a person can when he’s sprawled all over a couch, “I live in Kenya. Even in winter it’s rare for us to see anything below 22 degrees.”
“Celcius.” he adds when Ariadne continues to look unimpressed.
“Well, lucky for you I was in the girl scouts.” She twists around until she can free both herself and Yusuf from the tangle of blanket. Arthur can’t help the shiver that runs down his side after she’s gone. “You two stay put.” She calls back to Cobb and Arthur, and Arthur tries to at least make it look like he’d been planning to move as soon as she left the room.
“Oh, and here.” She peels the lumpy mittens from her hands, throwing one to each of them.
“We’ll call you when the fire’s ready.” Yusuf promises, following Ariadne from the room.
Arthur stares disdainfully down at the woollen glove, weighing the pros and cons of actually wearing something that particular shade of yellow.
“Oh, for Christ’s... here.” Cobb reaches over with his own mitten-covered fingers and yanks Arthur’s hand into his own, shoving the thick wool down over his skin like you would for a disobedient child.
Arthur’s staring at his palm in annoyance when he hears Eames announcing his presence with a cough from the doorway.
“Location’s secured.” he informs them, eyes glued to where Arthurs hand is still resting between Cobb’s. Arthur pulls away quickly, shifting back from where he’d been leaning into Cobb and immediately missing his warmth.
“What... uhh... what...” Eames pauses, clears his throat again. “Where’s Ariadne?”
“With Yusuf. They’re using a table for firewood to light the stove in the kitchen.” Cobb tells him, resettling the blanket around himself and Arthur.
“Right. Well. Good then. About bloody time we got some heat in here.” he rubs his hands together, eyes still locked on Arthur. “Should I... Did you want me to go?”
“What?” Arthur’s brows snapped together.
“Help Yusuf. Did you want me to go help Yusuf.” Eames repeats, already taking a step backwards.
It takes him a minute, but Arthur eventually gets what Eames is implying by leaving him alone with Cobb, tucked under a blanket and, yeah, okay, cuddling on the couch.
He’s still mumbling, walking towards the door and completely missing the glare Arthur shoots at him. “Alright then. I’ll just be off. Leave you... to it.” he says.
“Eames.” Arthur rolls his eyes, lifting the edge of the blanket like Ariadne had done for him.
“Hm?” Eames looks back, confused.
“It’s blizzarding outside and we’re in sub-zero weather with no heat.” Arthur speaks slowly for him, like his point should be obvious.
“I’m aware of that, thank you, Arthur.” he drawls, sardonic, but walks back towards them regardless.
“Will you just...” Arthur growls, leaning forward until he can get a fistful of Eames’ shirt and pulling, like he’d done earlier with Cobb. Eames ends up slumped against the couch, half over Cobb and half over Arthur, blinking up at them with confusion written plainly across his face.
“It was Ariadne’s idea.” Cobb tells him, pushing and pulling at the blanket until he can wrap it over Eames as well. Eames’ eyes light up like he gets it, and straight away he’s burrowing deeper under the covers, one arm winding its way behind Arthur’s waist, and suddenly there’s not an inch of Arthur that’s touching Cobb anymore.
Arthur knees him in the thigh. “It’s for body warmth, Eames. Don’t be a child about this.”
“I’ve no idea what you mean, pet.” he grins, looping his ankle around Arthur’s. Arthur would protest more, but Eames really is ridiculously warm for someone who’s just been running around in the snow checking perimeters and such. He settles for a gruff exhale, and crosses his arms, ignoring the fact that his un-gloved hand is now resting tucked between Eames’ ribs and his own.
When Arthur looks up again, Ariadne and Yusuf are tramping their way through the doorway, arms full with piles of sheets and blankets.
“The fire?” Cobb asks.
“Well, see, here’s the thing...” Yusuf starts.
“You couldn’t get it started.” Eames guesses.
“Hey. I am a master at lighting fires, okay?” Ariadne squints at him. “I have a badge in it and everything.”
“So what’s the problem?” Arthur cuts in.
“Well, we got it going, but I guess... it burnt a little too well.” she shrugs.
“This place has been deserted for at least twenty years, and apparently during that time no one thought to drop by and clean the chimney.” Yusuf wrinkles his brow, clearly annoyed by this oversight.
“Oh no.” Cobb pinches at the bridge of his nose.
“Yes. Well.” Yusuf echoes Ariadne’s shrug. “Probably best no one goes into the kitchen for a while.”
“A long while.” Ariadne adds. “That smoke got... pretty bad.”
“At least tell me you put the fire out and we’re not all going to die of smoke-inhalation in our sleep.” Eames runs a hand over his face.
Ariadne huffs. “What do you take me for, an amateur?”
“She screamed and threw a bucket of snow at it.” Yusuf informs them, deadpan.
“I did not scream.” Ariadne grumbles, moving forward to dump her pile of blankets on the bed.
“Where’d you find all that?” asks Arthur.
“Cupboard at the end of the hall when I was looking for the fire blanket.” Yusuf smiles proudly.
Ariadne takes his bundle from him, throwing a blanket each at everyone’s head. “Gear up, gentlemen. No one’s losing a toe on my watch.” She takes the rest of the sheets and covers back to the bed and starts layering them one on top of the other.
Arthur swipes the blanket away from his face, untangles himself from Eames and stands. “I don’t know what you have in mind here, but there’s no way we’re all going to fit in that bed at the same time.” He frowns as Yusuf crawls into the middle of the mattress, followed closely by Ariadne and Cobb.
“Guess we’ll just have to get creative about it then.” Eames’ voice rumbles next to his ear, and the next thing he knows, Arthur’s legs are being kicked out from under him and he’s being pulled down onto the bed between Yusuf and Eames. He’s trying to work out how that works, exactly (since he’s pretty sure that once Cobb and Ariadne had shoved Yusuf over to make room for themselves, there had only been enough space left in the bed for one), when he realises that he’s basically sandwiched between the heavy layer of covers above him and Eames body below him. He’s sitting with his back pressed to Eames chest, Eames manhandling him until he’s got him caught snug between the vee of his legs.
“Oh hell no--” Arthur starts to move away, but Eames snakes a hand around his waist, dragging him back.
“Don’t be selfish, Arthur.” Eames scolds.
“I... What?!” Arthur scowls at him from over his shoulder.
“Hey, it’s not like I’m doing this for my own benefit.” Eames widens his eyes, the picture of innocence. “We all of us need to keep warm right now, and this is the only resource we have at our disposal. Now, are you going to sit back and share your abnormally warm body temperature with us, or are you going to kick up a fuss and have us all die of frostbite and pneumonia before dawn?”
“That’s a little over-dramatic, don’t you think? It’s not like--”
“Hey. You. Sit down, shush, and stop pulling at the covers.” Ariadne interrupts his rant before he can even get it going.
“I—what? Come on! Dom, you—”
“What she said.” Cobb snuffles drowsily into the pillow, rolling away to face the wall and making it clear that this discussion is over.
“I don’t believe this.” Arthur sighs, looking to the ceiling for a little compassion.
“Relax, love. It’s not the end of the world, is it?” Eames voice is like a vibration coming through his chest, his words spilling over Arthur’s skin where Eames lips brush against his ear, his throat, the corner of his jaw when Arthur half-turns to lock eyes with him.
“I do not have an abnormally warm body temperature.” he frowns.
“No? My mistake.” Eames smirks.
“Don’t think I won’t cause you damage just because you have witnesses.” Arthur narrows his eyes.
Eames smiles even wider, turning to get a better look at the ‘witnesses’. Yusuf is spread out like a starfish, one arm looped behind Eames’ shoulders, the other resting flat across the pillows where his hand is scritching idly against Cobb’s scalp. Cobb has rolled back towards them, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, his own arm wrapped tight over Ariadne’s waist, hand fisted in Yusuf’s shirt like he’s worried that his newfound source of scalp-massaging-bliss might somehow escape from him. Ariadne has her head pillowed on Cobb’s chest and her legs kicked out over Yusuf’s, her woolly socks occasionally pressing up against Eames’ knee, knocking him further into Arthur. Her hands are buried beneath the collar of Cobb’s sweater, most likely because neither Cobb nor Arthur had remembered to give her back the mittens, and now Dom has to suffer the punishment of her tiny fists like icicles pressing in between the skin of his neck and his shoulder, searching out the warmth there.
Eames turns back to Arthur, eyes softening when he notices that Arthur’s smiling too, a little bit. Just enough for one almost-dimple to appear. He drops his gaze to Arthur’s hands, still fisted on top of the covers. He takes hold of the hand currently wrapped in yellow wool and blue felt.
“I like this on you.” Eames murmurs, keeping his voice low while the others drift off around them.
“It was a forced decision. It’s not like this was voluntary.” Arthur waves the mitten at him, flexing his fingers against the soft wool.
“Still.” Eames frees his hands from beneath the blankets, takes hold of Arthur’s fists and pulls them back under the covers, rubbing them between his own until they warm. Arthur lets him.
A soft snore has them both looking up—Cobb’s finally asleep, maybe the first natural sleep he’s had in days, and Ariadne and Yusuf aren’t far behind. Eames slips the fingers of one hand beneath the knitted wool covering Arthur’s own, the well-worn mitten large enough to fit both of their hands comfortably—even more so when Eames quietly links each of his fingers around Arthur’s.
Arthur doesn’t have it in him to protest—he’s too warm, too comfortable. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be able to remember all the reasons he should be mad about this, but right now... right now he’s sinking back against Eames, head dropping back onto Eames’ shoulder, eyes drifting shut as he hums into Eames’ neck.
“Go to sleep, Mr Eames.”
