Fic: "Dude," (7/7), Inception, Robert/Yusuf, Arthur/Eames, NC-17
I finished a WIP!
It was a pleasure to write this for those of you who read it.
Dude (7/7)
Author:
_beetle_
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Robert/Yusuf, Arthur/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: Approx. 5500
Disclaimer: Not stealing, just appreciating.
Notes: An AU where the Inception team works at a men's magazine called Dude. Previous parts hold court here.
Summary: Written for the
inception_kink prompt: Yusuf is working his first job out of college as a "fact checker" for a semi-sleazy men's magazine; doomed to spend his days researching protein bars and celebrity bra sizes. Robert Fischer is his boss whom he has a million good reasons to hate. So why doesn't he?
“You awake?”
This is kissed into the skin of Yusuf’s nape, and he smiles sleepily, blinking in the dim, late morning sunlight. “No, but I could be persuaded.”
Robert’s low chuckle vibrates against his skin as it travels down and around to his shoulder, where it turns into a gentle love bite. It’s not the first and it will happily not be the last.
A warm, admiring hand caresses its way down Yusuf’s back, to the small, and thence to his ass, where it strokes and strokes. Yusuf sighs and spreads his legs. Robert’s fingers immediately trail down to his opening, circling and feinting inward till Yusuf’s moaning and humping his bed, literally biting his pillow. The irony would not have been lost on him, had he not been so focused on what Robert was doing.
First one finger wriggles its way inside him and he lets out a breath, bearing down on it instantly. “More,” he demands, and Robert chuckles again.
“You’re awful pushy, for a bottom,” Robert leans down to whisper in his ear, as his middle finger joins its brother, scissoring and stretching Yusuf back open. He’s still sore enough that there’s discomfort, but it only adds to the sweet, dirty, right sensation of being slowly and surely filled.
“I want what I want, when I want it,” he agrees, half purr, half chuckle. “And right now, I want your cock.”
“Fuck,” Robert swears, removing his fingers. Yusuf smiles, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Robert fumbling about on the nightstand for the tube of lube.
And for the empty wrapper of the condoms they’d used up last night.
“Ah, fuck-“ Robert begins irritably, crumpling the wrapper in frustration. Yusuf reaches out and covers Robert’s pale fist with his hand. Their hands, together, look like an old Beneton ad.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, pushing back against Robert.
“You have more condoms?” Robert asks hopefully, and Yusuf looks over his shoulder, biting his lip. He takes a breath.
“No . . . but it’s okay. If you wanna . . . you know. Bareback.”
Robert’s eyebrows shoot up.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I mean-I understand if you don’t, but if you do, that’d be, um, cool, too. I’ve only been with one guy, and I’ve been tested since.” Yusuf blushes, but manages not to look away from Robert’s startled gaze. “Or we could do other things-“
Robert leans in to kiss Yusuf hard and quick, his tongue darting into Yusuf’s mouth to count his teeth, then just as quickly withdraw. “I’ve been tested, too, since my last . . . assignation. I’m clean.” Then three cool, gel-sticky fingers brush his entrance teasingly before pushing back in slowly, but implacably. Yusuf hisses in a breath that Robert steals with another kiss.
“Tell me you want my come inside you, Yusuf,” he murmurs, his breathing fast and shaky. “Tell me.”
Blushing harder, Yusuf inhales again. The air smells of sex, sweat, and Robert’s cologne. Good scents. “God, yes . . . I w-want you to come inside me, Robert . . . please.”
“Yeah.” Robert pushes Yusuf’s legs further apart, and bends the right one till Yusuf’s knee is practically in his armpit. “Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you everything-gonna make you mine.”
“I’m already yours,” Yusuf whispers, glancing back over his shoulder. He can just make out the look of surprise on Robert’s face, before it’s replaced by bitten-lipped concentration.
Robert prepares Yusuf quickly, with fingers that are shaky and not especially coordinated, murmuring how tight and hot he is all the while. Then, after what feels like forever, he’s guiding his cock forward, pushing insistently against the first ring of muscle. Yusuf relaxes his body and reaches back to put one hand on Robert’s hip.
Robert’s other hand, on Yusuf’s ass, squeezes and clutches, and Robert hisses as he slides slowly forward, inch by inch. When he’s seated completely in Yusuf, he reaches around to take Yusuf’s cock in hand and strokes it gently.
“Mine,” he breathes on Yusuf’s nape. “This cock. This ass. So perfect, and so mine.”
“Yours,” Yusuf’s agrees, bringing every muscle possible to bear on the thick, hot cock inside him. “In part and in whole.”
Robert kisses his nape, his neck, his shoulders-any part of Yusuf he can reach. “And I’m yours . . . I’m so yours.”
Then he starts to move . . . slowly, painstakingly, putting his hips into every thrust and pulling back out just as slowly, moaning at the loss of Yusuf around him, only to seek out his heat again.
His hand on Yusuf’s cock is tight and somehow in exact counterpoint to his thrusts. His thumb sweeps feather-light across the tip, sliding in the precome collected there. Every so often he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean, then tells Yusuf how good he tastes.
A swivel of his hips and he finds Yusuf’s prostate, moaning once more, long and drawn-out, when Yusuf clenches around him and shudders.
“Oh, my love,” Yusuf breathes, and struggles to get to his hands and knees. When he realizes what Yusuf’s trying to do, Robert pulls him up by his hips without separating their bodies. But instead of stopping there, he sits up and settles back on his heels, pulling Yusuf down into his lap. The both groan as Robert sinks even deeper, till it feels as if he’s filling Yusuf’s entire being.
Yusuf straddles Robert’s thighs and leans back in the arms that wrap around his waist.
“Ever done it like this?” Robert asks, pressing his face against Yusuf’s damp shoulder.
“No,” Yusuf exhales, waiting for his body to accommodate Robert more completely. It hurts, but it feels incredible, too. Better than anything that immediately comes to mind. Which isn’t really a lot of things, distracted as Yusuf is. “Just missionary and doggy-style. I never even thought-oh, God-“ he gasps out as Robert bucks up into him hard, nailing his prostate dead-on.
“Gravity’s a wonderful thing. It takes me so-“ kiss “-so-“ nuzzle “deep.” Robert chuckles, bucking up again, his fingers finding Yusuf’s nipples and tweaking them lightly. “When I come, you’re gonna feel it.”
Yusuf leans his head back on Robert’s shoulder and meets his heated, hungry gaze.
Then Robert smiles and kisses him lingeringly, one hand dropping to Yusuf’s cock again.
“Fuck yourself on me,” he murmurs into the kiss. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Yusuf’s eyes squinch shut and he nods, trying his best to lever his shaking, sweaty body up off Robert’s cock. He doesn’t get very far before he sits back down again, and they both cry out, sharing breath and kisses.
“Again,” Robert commands, licking Yusuf’s lips and nibbling his way down to Yusuf’s throat. “God, do it again.”
Yusuf does it again, and Robert cries out again, his hand tightening around Yusuf’s cock.
“Yeah,” he sighs happily, his breath warm and humid on Yusuf’s throat. “Gonna fuck this sweet ass till neither of us can walk right.”
Lost though he is to pleasure, to Robert’s hard, almost sporadic thrusts, Yusuf laughs. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk, period.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to stay in bed till you recover . . . servicing my cock whenever I get hard . . . which’ll be often,” Robert promises darkly.
“So basically I’ll never walk again?”
Robert laughs and thrusts . . . grunts and thrusts again. “Walking is overrated, anyway.”
Yusuf gasps once more, seeing stars and fireworks, as Robert really starts putting his back into it. There’s no more inclination or ability to talk until Yusuf croaks out: “Coming!”
“And I’ll lick every inch of you clean,” Robert murmurs in a tight, controlled voice that indicates he’s not too far off, either.
Seconds later, Yusuf’s body is strung taught, his muscles bearing down so hard on Robert’s cock, Robert swears and stills within him. Then Yusuf’s lost to his orgasm-the best he’s ever had, and not just because it’s the most recent-sobbing Robert’s name as come lands in hot spatters on his chest.
“Oh, baby, so good . . . so fucking-fuck-“ Robert grits out, pulling Yusuf’s hips down hard and thrusting up at the same time. His cock pulses tangibly within Yusuf who, coming down from his orgasm, finds himself on the brink of another. The sensation is so intense it’s nearly painful.
Then Robert’s coming in him: hard, hot, and a lot. Yusuf feels every pulse, every spurt, every twitch as Robert’s body struggles to come more.
“God, baby, yes,” Robert’s moaning hoarsely. “Take it all, all . . . can you feel it?”
“Yes,” Yusuf breathes as his own body struggles to come again. Robert’s still thrusting up into him, still hard, still stroking him. “I need-“
“Tell me what you need, baby. Anything. I’ll give you anything you need.”
Yusuf doesn’t answer. Can’t, as he pushes himself to his second orgasm, answer. He simply sags forward, barely able to brace himself as he hits the bed. Robert slips out of him, but grabs his hips and pushes him flat to the bed, spreading his legs.
He pushes Yusuf’s cheeks apart, and Yusuf sighs, yes, as he waits for the powerful thrust of Robert’s cock.
He doesn’t get it.
What he does get is more than enough, however, to send him over the edge, and he comes again, shouting Robert’s name as Robert’s tongue rasps and laps at his sore, over-sensitized entrance.
*
“You have the softest hair.”
Yusuf smiles, his head pillowed on Robert’s shoulder while Robert’s fingers card through his hair. “Hmm . . . it’s too curly.”
“It’s perfect,” Robert murmurs into his curls. "Perfect, perfect, perfect."
“That’s the post-coital endorphins talking.”
Robert laughs. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
Yusuf looks up at Robert and catches a soft, fond look on his face. “I know you make me feel beautiful. Does that count?”
That soft smile widens a little. “I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are. It’s the least you deserve.” He searches Yusuf’s eyes for a moment, then leans in to kiss him.
The kiss has turned into a clinch, with Robert’s fingers dancing lightly down Yusuf’s back, toward his ass-though after four times (five for Yusuf) in six hours, neither of them are likely to be getting hard any time soon-when Robert’s phone rings from somewhere in the scattered clothes on the floor.
Robert seems content to ignore it, but Yusuf pulls away reluctantly. “It might be important.”
“Probably,” Robert agrees lowly, huskily. “But I don’t care.”
“You do. You will.” Yusuf smiles apologetically and leans over Robert and over the edge of his double bed. He feels around on the floor till his hand touches a vibrating lump.
“Aha!” He sits up with Robert’s Blackberry, waggling it. Robert rolls his eyes and reaches for it, but Yusuf holds it just out of reach. “What will you give me for it?”
Robert sits up and pulls Yusuf in for hard, biting kiss. “The fucking of your life.”
“Ah, but you already gave me that.”
Robert quirks an eyebrow. “So you’re saying once was enough?”
“Never.”
They grin at each other, and Yusuf hands over the phone. Robert kisses him again, quick and dirty then answers, pulling Yusuf into his arms and laying them back down. “Fischer. Make it good.”
“You’re so butch,” Yusuf whispers, leaning in to lick a trail from Robert’s nipple to his ear lobe. Robert shivers and clears his throat.
“ . . . off the table . . . yes, I know we were close to a deal, but I’ve changed my mind. It’s been known to happen . . . well, it’s not like we need the money, Uncle Peter . . . yeah, well, it was one of dad’s first publishing successes, so I think it’s worth sav-no, I don’t care what Saito expects. Saito can go fuck himself if he doesn’t like it. . . .”
Intent as he is on mapping the shell of Robert’s ear with his tongue, the import of Robert’s end of the conversation doesn’t compute. At first. But when it does, he looks up at Robert solemnly, studying his face.
Robert watches him back, just as solemnly.
“Dude isn’t for sale,” he says finally. “Dad was about as sentimental as a crocodile, but when he loved something, well . . . he really loved it.” Robert swallows, and looks away, his eyes melancholy. “And he loved Dude, so. . . .
“There’s no changing my mind on this, Uncle Peter. Dude will remain a part of Fischer-Morrow Publishing. End of story. If Saito has a problem with that, we can-ah, fuck, can I call you back in a little bit? Bye.” Robert hangs up withhout waiting for an answer from his uncle.
Yusuf’s getting out of bed, looking for his pajama bottoms.
Robert gets up, too, and watches Yusuf get partially dressed.
“Well, I thought you’d be happy,” he says sarcastically. Yusuf snorts.
“I’m ecstatic, Robert.” He pulls the drawstring on his pants and crosses his arms. “You magically decide to keep Dude after I sleep with you? What the hell?”
Robert looks genuinely surprised for a moment. Then his eyes narrow and his face transforms into that cold mask.
“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”
Stung, Yusuf takes a step back and Robert’s mask cracks a little. Then crumbles. “Jesus, Yusuf, I didn’t mean it like that-“
“Then what did you mean, Robert?” Yusuf demands, turning away, ostensibly to look for his shirt. He spots it where he remembers Robert flinging it earlier, on his laptop. He snags it and pulls it on. Feeling somewhat less vulnerable, he turns to face Robert again. “What, if not that I’m bad in bed?”
Robert, standing there naked, covered in hickies and scratches, looks ridiculous . . . and repentant.
“I shouldn’t have said that-not just because it was insulting, but because it wasn’t true. After today, I’d buy shares of Enron, if you wanted me to . . . it was that good. But that’s not why I kept Dude,” he says quietly.
Yusuf crosses his arms again and sighs. “I’m listening.”
For a moment, Robert gets that high-handed look on his face . . . but then he smiles wryly and sits on the foot of Yusuf’s bed. He pats the spot next to him and Yusuf, arms still crossed, reluctantly drifts over to sit next to him, just shy of touching him.
This time, Robert is the one to sigh. But he scoots closer to Yusuf, till they’re touching all along the lengths of their body. Yusuf can’t help the shiver that passes through him.
“You’re amazing in bed, Yusuf. In case me fucking you four times in six hours wasn’t indication enough,” Robert says warmly, and Yusuf blushes, fighting a smile. “You’re sensual and responsive and adventurous.”
Yusuf’s eyebrows travel halfway up to his hairline. “Missionary and doggy-style, Robert. I’m hardly adventurous.”
“Hey, you tried something new with me,” Robert says, smiling, putting his arm around Yusuf’s shoulders. “And there are so many more things we can try, so many things I want to do with you and to you.”
“Robert,” Yusuf moans when Robert kisses his shoulder, and up to his ear, doing the same things Yusuf had been doing not five minutes ago. “If not because I . . . somehow sexed you into it, why are you keeping Dude?”
Robert sighs again, wrapping his arms around Yusuf’s waist. “Well, it’s actually that guy Eames’s fault.”
“Eames?”
Robert laughs a little. “The way he came to bat for you when he thought I was just trying to, you know, get in your pants-the way you guys all stick up for each other and sing each other’s praises . . . I’ve never seen that kind of camaraderie in any of dad’s companies. Not a single one.” He looks up into Yusuf’s eyes. “It’s obvious that you all have this amazing relationship with each other, and that you care a great deal for each other. And you work well together.
“Dude has issues, it’s true. Sales and readership have dropped and plateaued in recent years, but I think-no, I know that can be turned around.” Robert’s voice turns fierce for a moment. “Back when my father started Dude, it did worse than it is, now. But he worked and fought for it-practically single-handedly turned it around. And it always held a special place in the piece of coal that passed for his heart.”
He reaches up and caresses Yusuf’s cheek gently. “I’ve never had anything like that, you know? Never had any real purpose or place in the world. Then along came you, and Dude . . . and suddenly it feels like I belong. Like I’m wanted and needed. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt that way before, and I’d be a fool to give it up.”
Robert falls silent and Yusuf studies him. Those blue-blue eyes are fixed determinedly on Yusuf’s face. “I want to keep you, and I want to keep Dude. I feel like you both need me, and so help me, I need to be needed.”
“So you’re keeping us because we’re fixer-uppers?”
Robert shakes his head. “I’m keeping you because I think I could love you . . . if I don’t already.”
Yusuf’s eyes widen and his keen sense of disappointment is replaced with pure shock. “Robert, I-“
“Oh, and I’m keeping Dude because I also love a challenge,” Robert adds almost gleefully. “No one, not even Uncle Peter, thinks anyone short of Jesus Christ could save it. I think all it needs is some tough love and some elbow grease.”
Blinking, Yusuf shakes his head. “That’s-you're-do you mean it?“
Robert’s smile is tender and possessive, and he leans in to kiss Yusuf lightly. “You’re both mine, now, and I don’t give up on what’s mine. I keep it and I take care of it.”
Yusuf draws in a shaking breath, unable to stop the tear that rolls down his cheek. But Robert brushes it away with his thumb, along with the others that follow.
“I’m scared, Robert,” Yusuf whispers shakily as Robert kisses him again and again, still catching tears. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and certainly not so fast. Aren’t you scared, too?”
Robert shushes him. “A little. But you took a chance on me, so I’m thinking you’re worth the same risk.” He gives Yusuf an Eskimo kiss. “So worth it.”
“Robert,” Yusuf starts then chuckles sheepishly. “God, we’re so gay.”
“And proud of it.” Robert pulls Yusuf closer, tugging on his shirt before sliding his hand under it to circle Yusuf’s right nipple. “C’mon. Let’s hose off and I’ll take you to breakfast.”
“You just want to have sex in my shower; admit it.”
Robert’s smile turns into a crafty smirk. “Guilty as charged. But we have to work up an appetite, somehow.”
Yusuf strips his shirt back off and tosses it at his laptop. Just in time for Robert to push him back down to the bed and roll on top of him. Yusuf obligingly wraps his legs around Robert’s waist.
“Think you can get it up a fifth time?” Yusuf taunts, smiling up into flame-bright eyes.
That crafty smirk turns arrogant and Yusuf could swear he feels the beginnings of a hard-on growing against his own rather interested cock. “For you? I know I can, baby.”
“Mm . . . game-on, then.”
Epilogue: Ten months later. . . .
“How do I look?”
Robert’s impeccable, tuxedoed reflection joins Yusuf’s in the full-length mirror. His hands travel everywhere and his eyes are admiring.
“Delicious . . . you look even more beautiful than usual,” Robert says, kissing Yusuf’s cheek, then his neck, then his wool-covered shoulder. Yusuf smiles a little and leans back into the embrace waiting for him.
“But I feel like a trained chimp. Or maybe a waiter.” Yusuf sighs, tugging hopelessly on his tuxedo. “And my speech is horrible! Why on Earth did he choose me, Robert?”
“Maybe because you’re his best friend?” Robert’s hands come to rest on Yusuf’s fly. “And your speech is great. It’s funny and moving. I’ve told you that a hundred and fifty times.”
Yusuf sighs again. “I know. But I can’t help feeling as if I’m going to mess up their special day, somehow.”
“See, you’re not, baby,” Robert promises quietly, resting his chin on Yusuf’s shoulder. His eyes meet Yusuf’s in the mirror. “That’s just the nerves talking.”
“Yeah? Well, they’re talking pretty loud,” Yusuf mutters, and Robert smiles.
“I love you, you know that?”
Yusuf feels his own genuine, besotted smile crossing his face and stopping to stay awhile. Robert’s never been shy about declaring his feelings, but even after six months of doing so, hearing the I love yous still warms Yusuf to his core.
“I love you, too, Robert Fischer.”
Robert’s eyes go hooded and heated, and he unzips Yusuf’s fly, snaking his hand in and past the opening of Yusuf’s boxers. He takes Yusuf’s cock in hand and strokes it till Yusuf’s hard and breathing that way.
“God, we can’t, love,” Yusuf says, knowing already that, indeed, they damned well will. And Robert’s smile says much the same. Then he’s slipping around to face Yusuf, getting to his knees.
“It’ll cure those nerves of yours, for one thing, and for another thing-“ Robert holds Yusuf’s gaze while he pulls his cock out and licks it from root to tip. Yusuf moans, running his fingers through Robert’s hair. "For another thing, I like sucking you off while you're all fancied-up."
“We’re in a temple, Robert. . . .” Yusuf sputters, gently undulating his hips as Robert initiates then increases his suction.
“Mmhmm.”
“A temple!”
“Mm. . . .”
“There’s a special place in hell for men who give and receive blowjobs in holy buildings. You know that, right? And on the morning of their best friends’ wedding, no less.”
Robert pulls off of Yusuf, smiling. “And it’ll be worth it to blow you, then bugger you in Yahweh's house. On the morning of Conor and Arthur’s wedding, no less.”
Yusuf’s eyes widen with fake innocence. “And how did we go from blowjob, to buggery?”
“Don’t we always?” Robert’s blue eyes twinkle with humor and Yusuf thinks about it for a moment, then nods.
“This is true.”
“And will it, or will it not calm your nerves?”
“Well-“
Robert stands up, pulling Yusuf into his arms again. He kisses Yusuf, who can taste himself on Robert’s lips and tongue.
“I love you,” Robert says once more, and once more, Yusuf practically melts.
“I love you, too.”
Robert tilts his head. “Wanna maybe do what Conor and Arthur are doing, sometime soon?”
Yusuf’s brow furrows and he tries to imagine what Eames and Arthur are doing at this-or really any-given moment. “Weren’t we about to?”
Robert chuckles. “Not that-I mean, yes, that, but I was thinking that you might also do me the honor-“ one arm drops away from Yusuf and Robert digs in his pockets for a few moments “-of becoming my husband.”
He lets go of Yusuf completely and drops to one knee again, holding up a small open box with a platinum ring set with a ruby inside.
Yusuf’s mouth drops open and while he’s still in a state of gape-mouthed shock, Robert smirks and takes his hand, sliding the ring on. “Perfect fit. Just like us.”
“But-but-you? Marry? Me?” Yusuf stammers as Robert stands up, pulling Yusuf’s unresisting arms around his neck then putting his own around Yusuf’s waist. “Why?”
“Because I love you, Yusuf Muhammad, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Robert says earnestly, his piercing eyes staring intently into Yusuf’s.
Yusuf flushes, and looks away. “I want that, too, but . . . are you certain?” Somehow, he finds the courage to meet Robert’s eyes again. They’re still intent and intense.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Yusuf,” Robert says, leaning in to kiss Yusuf ardently. Yusuf responds just as ardently, hugging Robert close.
“Then, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” he murmurs on Robert’s lips, throwing caution to the wind, as he always has in their relationship.
It’s worth the risk.
Robert clinches Yusuf close. His hands slide down to Yusuf’s ass, pulling his pelvis tight against his own. He’s hard.
Yusuf laughs giddily, but quietly. “How about we skip the blowjob and just go straight to the buggery?”
“Baby, you read my mind,” Robert breathes, stealing one more kiss before manhandling Yusuf so that he’s facing the desk, one of the temple anteroom’s few pieces of furniture. He plasters his body to Yusuf’s, grasps Yusuf’s hips, and walks them forward, hooking his fingers in Yusuf’s waistband.
“You brought lube?” Yusuf asks as he braces his hands on the desk and spreads his legs. Robert snorts, one hand leaving Yusuf’s hip.
“Look who you’re asking.”
Yusuf rolls his eyes. “Yes, I forgot with whom I was dealing,” he says wryly, as he hears the small sound of a cap being flipped open.
Listening with half an ear to the slick whist-whist sounds of Robert coating his fingers and cock, Yusuf takes a few moments to admire the ring. Shaped not unlike a class ring, it has an inscription: Semper et perpetuum amorem.
Robert’s fingers breach him and immediately go to their work of stretching him. Yusuf’s breathing changes, speeds up, and stutters.
“What does Semper et perpetuum amorem mea-oh!” He gasps as Robert unerringly finds his prostate and applies increasing pressure to it. “Oh, Robert. . . .”
“It means,” Robert kisses into his hair. He stimulates Yusuf’s prostate one more time, till Yusuf’s shaking and moaning and writhing for more. “It means: Always and forever, my love.”
Yusuf finds himself blinking back tears as Robert lines himself up and enters him with a series of small but implacable thrusts. When he’s seated fully within Yusuf, Robert whispers in Yusuf’s ear: “And I mean just that: always and forever, my love. No one but you.”
“Oh, Robert,” Yusuf sniffs, feeling like a big girl, and completely beyond caring. He reaches behind himself to put one hand on Robert’s own, which has rejoined its mate on Yusuf’s hip. “I love you, too. Always and forever.”
Robert lets out a sigh that’s all relief, and starts to move, slowly and deliberately. “God, that’s good to hear. Say it again.”
“Always. And forever,” Yusuf enunciates, bowing his head like a penitent and spreading his legs as far apart as they’ll go, while still supporting him. “I’m yours.”
“Mine,” Robert agrees, leaving a trail of tiny kisses to Yusuf’s ear lobe, which he worries at gently. “And I’m yours.”
Then there’s nothing but the soft, happy grunts and moans of two people in love and expressing that love in the world’s oldest terms. At least until Yusuf comes, dragging Robert with him and gritting out his name through bitten lips. Robert himself comes with a drawn-out groan, filling Yusuf with wet, copious heat.
For a brief time afterwards, there’s only the huff and puff of heavy breathing, then the wet, softly sucking sounds of lazy kisses.
“You know . . . I’ve been carrying that ring around in my pocket since two months after we met,” Robert says, insinuating a hand between them to ease himself out of Yusuf, who immediately misses the sensation of being full. A warm, tacky mixture of come and lube tickles its way out of him.
“Really?”
“Yep.” Robert busies himself cleaning Yusuf with his silk handkerchief. “I kinda put all my chips on you falling madly in love with me.”
Yusuf snorts fondly. “Well, you won that bet.”
Robert kisses the back of Yusuf’s neck and swipes one last time with the handkerchief before tossing it at the wastebasket. “Did I ever.”
Smiling, Yusuf lets Robert pull up his pants and underwear, and rezips himself. Then he suffers himself to be turned to face Robert, who grins rakishly.
“Still nervous?”
Yusuf shakes his head no.
“See? I’m a miracle worker.”
Rolling his eyes, Yusuf smiles as he’s folded into Robert’s arms. “Yes, and it’ll be another miracle if I can make it down the aisle without everyone knowing what we were doing back here.”
“Yeah, I love to watch you walk all bow-legged after I’ve fucked you,” Robert whispers, stroking the small of Yusuf’s back. “Makes me want to fuck you all. Over. Again.”
“Save it for the coatroom at the reception hall,” Yusuf says, and Robert leans back just enough to look him in the eyes.
“You promise.”
“I promise.”
Robert chuckles and kisses him. “At some point, we’re supposed to slow down, right? To stop acting like a couple of horny teenagers, fucking whenever we get the chance, right?”
“God, I hope not,” Yusuf says sincerely. “I find it rather gratifying that being around you makes me raise wood on a dime.”
“Ditto.”
Yusuf returns that rakish grin and takes Robert’s hand. “C’mon, stud. We have wedding duties to attend to. Eames is probably freaking the fuck out, right about now. We’d best calm him down before he runs out of the temple screaming.”
“Okay . . . but we’re not calming him down the way I just calmed you down.” Robert scowls, and Yusuf laughs and turns toward the door, tugging on Robert’s hand.
“Actually. . . .” he begins with mock thoughtfulness. Robert pulls Yusuf back into his arms and kisses him hard.
“Mine,” he growls, only half-jokingly. "Remember?"
“Yours,” Yusuf agrees, meaning it with every fiber of his being. “Semper et perpetuum amorem.”
“Good.” Robert squeezes Yusuf’s hand and leads him to the door. He opens it and they’re both startled by a strikingly dapper, but harried-looking Eames, who barges in without noticing their surprise.
He’s carrying a flask and his boutonnière, and he makes his way to the room’s lone chair, flopping into it with a groan. He goes to take a swig from the boutonnière, swears, and tries again, this time with the flask.
“So, Arthur’s bubbe and yetta are peppering me with questions about when we’re going to have children. Whether we’re going to adopt, or have a surrogate mother-whether we’ll raise the little tykes Jewish-“ Eames takes another swig, runs his hand over his yarmulke, and looks even more harried. Then he looks at Robert and Yusuf as if really seeing them. His eyes tick from their linked hands to their flushed faces and he rolls his eyes. “Bloody hell, at my wedding? In Arthur’s family’s temple?”
Yusuf, at least, has the grace to look contrite. “Sorry, Eames, but-“ he holds out his hand and smiles so big, it feels like it stretches from ear to ear. “Robert and I just got engaged!”
Eames blinks. Then smiles, himself. “Congrats, Yusuf. Robert.” He gets up and holds out his hand to Robert for shaking. Robert takes it without hesitation, almost smiling himself. “About time you made our boy an honest man.”
“I could say the same for you and Arthur, Conor.”
“He could, but he won’t,” Yusuf interrupts to say, letting Eames hug him. He hugs back just as hard. “After all, we have a wedding to pull off.”
“Don't remind me,” Eames looks momentarily harried again, but lets Yusuf and Robert, each with a hand on his back, to lead him to the door. Robert takes the flask and Yusuf the boutonnière. “Is it normal to be so nervous? I mean, I want this more than anything, but-I’m so bloody anxious! What if Arthur changes his mind? What if someone objects? What if-?”
“You’ll both be fine. I decree it as your best man,” Yusuf says firmly, pinning the boutonnière to the lapel of Eames’s white tuxedo jacket and kissing Eames on the cheek. Robert, meanwhile, has slipped the flask into his right breast pocket. “Now, let’s get you married before you have a nervous breakdown. Then you and Arthur can get started on those little Eames-Krakauers. Okay?”
“Ha-bloody-ha. I hope you’ll remember that lovely sense of humor when it’s your turn to walk down the aisle,” Eames mutters, glaring daggers at them both. “Let’s see how certain you two are when it’s your turn.”
Yusuf’s and Robert’s gazes meet behind Eames's back.
Always, Robert mouths, and Yusuf blows him a kiss.
Forever, he returns.
And together-always together-they lead a still-muttering Eames out to his destiny.
End
It was a pleasure to write this for those of you who read it.
Dude (7/7)
Author:
_beetle_
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Robert/Yusuf, Arthur/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: Approx. 5500
Disclaimer: Not stealing, just appreciating.
Notes: An AU where the Inception team works at a men's magazine called Dude. Previous parts hold court here.
Summary: Written for the
inception_kink prompt: Yusuf is working his first job out of college as a "fact checker" for a semi-sleazy men's magazine; doomed to spend his days researching protein bars and celebrity bra sizes. Robert Fischer is his boss whom he has a million good reasons to hate. So why doesn't he?
“You awake?”
This is kissed into the skin of Yusuf’s nape, and he smiles sleepily, blinking in the dim, late morning sunlight. “No, but I could be persuaded.”
Robert’s low chuckle vibrates against his skin as it travels down and around to his shoulder, where it turns into a gentle love bite. It’s not the first and it will happily not be the last.
A warm, admiring hand caresses its way down Yusuf’s back, to the small, and thence to his ass, where it strokes and strokes. Yusuf sighs and spreads his legs. Robert’s fingers immediately trail down to his opening, circling and feinting inward till Yusuf’s moaning and humping his bed, literally biting his pillow. The irony would not have been lost on him, had he not been so focused on what Robert was doing.
First one finger wriggles its way inside him and he lets out a breath, bearing down on it instantly. “More,” he demands, and Robert chuckles again.
“You’re awful pushy, for a bottom,” Robert leans down to whisper in his ear, as his middle finger joins its brother, scissoring and stretching Yusuf back open. He’s still sore enough that there’s discomfort, but it only adds to the sweet, dirty, right sensation of being slowly and surely filled.
“I want what I want, when I want it,” he agrees, half purr, half chuckle. “And right now, I want your cock.”
“Fuck,” Robert swears, removing his fingers. Yusuf smiles, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Robert fumbling about on the nightstand for the tube of lube.
And for the empty wrapper of the condoms they’d used up last night.
“Ah, fuck-“ Robert begins irritably, crumpling the wrapper in frustration. Yusuf reaches out and covers Robert’s pale fist with his hand. Their hands, together, look like an old Beneton ad.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, pushing back against Robert.
“You have more condoms?” Robert asks hopefully, and Yusuf looks over his shoulder, biting his lip. He takes a breath.
“No . . . but it’s okay. If you wanna . . . you know. Bareback.”
Robert’s eyebrows shoot up.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I mean-I understand if you don’t, but if you do, that’d be, um, cool, too. I’ve only been with one guy, and I’ve been tested since.” Yusuf blushes, but manages not to look away from Robert’s startled gaze. “Or we could do other things-“
Robert leans in to kiss Yusuf hard and quick, his tongue darting into Yusuf’s mouth to count his teeth, then just as quickly withdraw. “I’ve been tested, too, since my last . . . assignation. I’m clean.” Then three cool, gel-sticky fingers brush his entrance teasingly before pushing back in slowly, but implacably. Yusuf hisses in a breath that Robert steals with another kiss.
“Tell me you want my come inside you, Yusuf,” he murmurs, his breathing fast and shaky. “Tell me.”
Blushing harder, Yusuf inhales again. The air smells of sex, sweat, and Robert’s cologne. Good scents. “God, yes . . . I w-want you to come inside me, Robert . . . please.”
“Yeah.” Robert pushes Yusuf’s legs further apart, and bends the right one till Yusuf’s knee is practically in his armpit. “Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you everything-gonna make you mine.”
“I’m already yours,” Yusuf whispers, glancing back over his shoulder. He can just make out the look of surprise on Robert’s face, before it’s replaced by bitten-lipped concentration.
Robert prepares Yusuf quickly, with fingers that are shaky and not especially coordinated, murmuring how tight and hot he is all the while. Then, after what feels like forever, he’s guiding his cock forward, pushing insistently against the first ring of muscle. Yusuf relaxes his body and reaches back to put one hand on Robert’s hip.
Robert’s other hand, on Yusuf’s ass, squeezes and clutches, and Robert hisses as he slides slowly forward, inch by inch. When he’s seated completely in Yusuf, he reaches around to take Yusuf’s cock in hand and strokes it gently.
“Mine,” he breathes on Yusuf’s nape. “This cock. This ass. So perfect, and so mine.”
“Yours,” Yusuf’s agrees, bringing every muscle possible to bear on the thick, hot cock inside him. “In part and in whole.”
Robert kisses his nape, his neck, his shoulders-any part of Yusuf he can reach. “And I’m yours . . . I’m so yours.”
Then he starts to move . . . slowly, painstakingly, putting his hips into every thrust and pulling back out just as slowly, moaning at the loss of Yusuf around him, only to seek out his heat again.
His hand on Yusuf’s cock is tight and somehow in exact counterpoint to his thrusts. His thumb sweeps feather-light across the tip, sliding in the precome collected there. Every so often he brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean, then tells Yusuf how good he tastes.
A swivel of his hips and he finds Yusuf’s prostate, moaning once more, long and drawn-out, when Yusuf clenches around him and shudders.
“Oh, my love,” Yusuf breathes, and struggles to get to his hands and knees. When he realizes what Yusuf’s trying to do, Robert pulls him up by his hips without separating their bodies. But instead of stopping there, he sits up and settles back on his heels, pulling Yusuf down into his lap. The both groan as Robert sinks even deeper, till it feels as if he’s filling Yusuf’s entire being.
Yusuf straddles Robert’s thighs and leans back in the arms that wrap around his waist.
“Ever done it like this?” Robert asks, pressing his face against Yusuf’s damp shoulder.
“No,” Yusuf exhales, waiting for his body to accommodate Robert more completely. It hurts, but it feels incredible, too. Better than anything that immediately comes to mind. Which isn’t really a lot of things, distracted as Yusuf is. “Just missionary and doggy-style. I never even thought-oh, God-“ he gasps out as Robert bucks up into him hard, nailing his prostate dead-on.
“Gravity’s a wonderful thing. It takes me so-“ kiss “-so-“ nuzzle “deep.” Robert chuckles, bucking up again, his fingers finding Yusuf’s nipples and tweaking them lightly. “When I come, you’re gonna feel it.”
Yusuf leans his head back on Robert’s shoulder and meets his heated, hungry gaze.
Then Robert smiles and kisses him lingeringly, one hand dropping to Yusuf’s cock again.
“Fuck yourself on me,” he murmurs into the kiss. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Yusuf’s eyes squinch shut and he nods, trying his best to lever his shaking, sweaty body up off Robert’s cock. He doesn’t get very far before he sits back down again, and they both cry out, sharing breath and kisses.
“Again,” Robert commands, licking Yusuf’s lips and nibbling his way down to Yusuf’s throat. “God, do it again.”
Yusuf does it again, and Robert cries out again, his hand tightening around Yusuf’s cock.
“Yeah,” he sighs happily, his breath warm and humid on Yusuf’s throat. “Gonna fuck this sweet ass till neither of us can walk right.”
Lost though he is to pleasure, to Robert’s hard, almost sporadic thrusts, Yusuf laughs. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk, period.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to stay in bed till you recover . . . servicing my cock whenever I get hard . . . which’ll be often,” Robert promises darkly.
“So basically I’ll never walk again?”
Robert laughs and thrusts . . . grunts and thrusts again. “Walking is overrated, anyway.”
Yusuf gasps once more, seeing stars and fireworks, as Robert really starts putting his back into it. There’s no more inclination or ability to talk until Yusuf croaks out: “Coming!”
“And I’ll lick every inch of you clean,” Robert murmurs in a tight, controlled voice that indicates he’s not too far off, either.
Seconds later, Yusuf’s body is strung taught, his muscles bearing down so hard on Robert’s cock, Robert swears and stills within him. Then Yusuf’s lost to his orgasm-the best he’s ever had, and not just because it’s the most recent-sobbing Robert’s name as come lands in hot spatters on his chest.
“Oh, baby, so good . . . so fucking-fuck-“ Robert grits out, pulling Yusuf’s hips down hard and thrusting up at the same time. His cock pulses tangibly within Yusuf who, coming down from his orgasm, finds himself on the brink of another. The sensation is so intense it’s nearly painful.
Then Robert’s coming in him: hard, hot, and a lot. Yusuf feels every pulse, every spurt, every twitch as Robert’s body struggles to come more.
“God, baby, yes,” Robert’s moaning hoarsely. “Take it all, all . . . can you feel it?”
“Yes,” Yusuf breathes as his own body struggles to come again. Robert’s still thrusting up into him, still hard, still stroking him. “I need-“
“Tell me what you need, baby. Anything. I’ll give you anything you need.”
Yusuf doesn’t answer. Can’t, as he pushes himself to his second orgasm, answer. He simply sags forward, barely able to brace himself as he hits the bed. Robert slips out of him, but grabs his hips and pushes him flat to the bed, spreading his legs.
He pushes Yusuf’s cheeks apart, and Yusuf sighs, yes, as he waits for the powerful thrust of Robert’s cock.
He doesn’t get it.
What he does get is more than enough, however, to send him over the edge, and he comes again, shouting Robert’s name as Robert’s tongue rasps and laps at his sore, over-sensitized entrance.
*
“You have the softest hair.”
Yusuf smiles, his head pillowed on Robert’s shoulder while Robert’s fingers card through his hair. “Hmm . . . it’s too curly.”
“It’s perfect,” Robert murmurs into his curls. "Perfect, perfect, perfect."
“That’s the post-coital endorphins talking.”
Robert laughs. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
Yusuf looks up at Robert and catches a soft, fond look on his face. “I know you make me feel beautiful. Does that count?”
That soft smile widens a little. “I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are. It’s the least you deserve.” He searches Yusuf’s eyes for a moment, then leans in to kiss him.
The kiss has turned into a clinch, with Robert’s fingers dancing lightly down Yusuf’s back, toward his ass-though after four times (five for Yusuf) in six hours, neither of them are likely to be getting hard any time soon-when Robert’s phone rings from somewhere in the scattered clothes on the floor.
Robert seems content to ignore it, but Yusuf pulls away reluctantly. “It might be important.”
“Probably,” Robert agrees lowly, huskily. “But I don’t care.”
“You do. You will.” Yusuf smiles apologetically and leans over Robert and over the edge of his double bed. He feels around on the floor till his hand touches a vibrating lump.
“Aha!” He sits up with Robert’s Blackberry, waggling it. Robert rolls his eyes and reaches for it, but Yusuf holds it just out of reach. “What will you give me for it?”
Robert sits up and pulls Yusuf in for hard, biting kiss. “The fucking of your life.”
“Ah, but you already gave me that.”
Robert quirks an eyebrow. “So you’re saying once was enough?”
“Never.”
They grin at each other, and Yusuf hands over the phone. Robert kisses him again, quick and dirty then answers, pulling Yusuf into his arms and laying them back down. “Fischer. Make it good.”
“You’re so butch,” Yusuf whispers, leaning in to lick a trail from Robert’s nipple to his ear lobe. Robert shivers and clears his throat.
“ . . . off the table . . . yes, I know we were close to a deal, but I’ve changed my mind. It’s been known to happen . . . well, it’s not like we need the money, Uncle Peter . . . yeah, well, it was one of dad’s first publishing successes, so I think it’s worth sav-no, I don’t care what Saito expects. Saito can go fuck himself if he doesn’t like it. . . .”
Intent as he is on mapping the shell of Robert’s ear with his tongue, the import of Robert’s end of the conversation doesn’t compute. At first. But when it does, he looks up at Robert solemnly, studying his face.
Robert watches him back, just as solemnly.
“Dude isn’t for sale,” he says finally. “Dad was about as sentimental as a crocodile, but when he loved something, well . . . he really loved it.” Robert swallows, and looks away, his eyes melancholy. “And he loved Dude, so. . . .
“There’s no changing my mind on this, Uncle Peter. Dude will remain a part of Fischer-Morrow Publishing. End of story. If Saito has a problem with that, we can-ah, fuck, can I call you back in a little bit? Bye.” Robert hangs up withhout waiting for an answer from his uncle.
Yusuf’s getting out of bed, looking for his pajama bottoms.
Robert gets up, too, and watches Yusuf get partially dressed.
“Well, I thought you’d be happy,” he says sarcastically. Yusuf snorts.
“I’m ecstatic, Robert.” He pulls the drawstring on his pants and crosses his arms. “You magically decide to keep Dude after I sleep with you? What the hell?”
Robert looks genuinely surprised for a moment. Then his eyes narrow and his face transforms into that cold mask.
“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”
Stung, Yusuf takes a step back and Robert’s mask cracks a little. Then crumbles. “Jesus, Yusuf, I didn’t mean it like that-“
“Then what did you mean, Robert?” Yusuf demands, turning away, ostensibly to look for his shirt. He spots it where he remembers Robert flinging it earlier, on his laptop. He snags it and pulls it on. Feeling somewhat less vulnerable, he turns to face Robert again. “What, if not that I’m bad in bed?”
Robert, standing there naked, covered in hickies and scratches, looks ridiculous . . . and repentant.
“I shouldn’t have said that-not just because it was insulting, but because it wasn’t true. After today, I’d buy shares of Enron, if you wanted me to . . . it was that good. But that’s not why I kept Dude,” he says quietly.
Yusuf crosses his arms again and sighs. “I’m listening.”
For a moment, Robert gets that high-handed look on his face . . . but then he smiles wryly and sits on the foot of Yusuf’s bed. He pats the spot next to him and Yusuf, arms still crossed, reluctantly drifts over to sit next to him, just shy of touching him.
This time, Robert is the one to sigh. But he scoots closer to Yusuf, till they’re touching all along the lengths of their body. Yusuf can’t help the shiver that passes through him.
“You’re amazing in bed, Yusuf. In case me fucking you four times in six hours wasn’t indication enough,” Robert says warmly, and Yusuf blushes, fighting a smile. “You’re sensual and responsive and adventurous.”
Yusuf’s eyebrows travel halfway up to his hairline. “Missionary and doggy-style, Robert. I’m hardly adventurous.”
“Hey, you tried something new with me,” Robert says, smiling, putting his arm around Yusuf’s shoulders. “And there are so many more things we can try, so many things I want to do with you and to you.”
“Robert,” Yusuf moans when Robert kisses his shoulder, and up to his ear, doing the same things Yusuf had been doing not five minutes ago. “If not because I . . . somehow sexed you into it, why are you keeping Dude?”
Robert sighs again, wrapping his arms around Yusuf’s waist. “Well, it’s actually that guy Eames’s fault.”
“Eames?”
Robert laughs a little. “The way he came to bat for you when he thought I was just trying to, you know, get in your pants-the way you guys all stick up for each other and sing each other’s praises . . . I’ve never seen that kind of camaraderie in any of dad’s companies. Not a single one.” He looks up into Yusuf’s eyes. “It’s obvious that you all have this amazing relationship with each other, and that you care a great deal for each other. And you work well together.
“Dude has issues, it’s true. Sales and readership have dropped and plateaued in recent years, but I think-no, I know that can be turned around.” Robert’s voice turns fierce for a moment. “Back when my father started Dude, it did worse than it is, now. But he worked and fought for it-practically single-handedly turned it around. And it always held a special place in the piece of coal that passed for his heart.”
He reaches up and caresses Yusuf’s cheek gently. “I’ve never had anything like that, you know? Never had any real purpose or place in the world. Then along came you, and Dude . . . and suddenly it feels like I belong. Like I’m wanted and needed. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt that way before, and I’d be a fool to give it up.”
Robert falls silent and Yusuf studies him. Those blue-blue eyes are fixed determinedly on Yusuf’s face. “I want to keep you, and I want to keep Dude. I feel like you both need me, and so help me, I need to be needed.”
“So you’re keeping us because we’re fixer-uppers?”
Robert shakes his head. “I’m keeping you because I think I could love you . . . if I don’t already.”
Yusuf’s eyes widen and his keen sense of disappointment is replaced with pure shock. “Robert, I-“
“Oh, and I’m keeping Dude because I also love a challenge,” Robert adds almost gleefully. “No one, not even Uncle Peter, thinks anyone short of Jesus Christ could save it. I think all it needs is some tough love and some elbow grease.”
Blinking, Yusuf shakes his head. “That’s-you're-do you mean it?“
Robert’s smile is tender and possessive, and he leans in to kiss Yusuf lightly. “You’re both mine, now, and I don’t give up on what’s mine. I keep it and I take care of it.”
Yusuf draws in a shaking breath, unable to stop the tear that rolls down his cheek. But Robert brushes it away with his thumb, along with the others that follow.
“I’m scared, Robert,” Yusuf whispers shakily as Robert kisses him again and again, still catching tears. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and certainly not so fast. Aren’t you scared, too?”
Robert shushes him. “A little. But you took a chance on me, so I’m thinking you’re worth the same risk.” He gives Yusuf an Eskimo kiss. “So worth it.”
“Robert,” Yusuf starts then chuckles sheepishly. “God, we’re so gay.”
“And proud of it.” Robert pulls Yusuf closer, tugging on his shirt before sliding his hand under it to circle Yusuf’s right nipple. “C’mon. Let’s hose off and I’ll take you to breakfast.”
“You just want to have sex in my shower; admit it.”
Robert’s smile turns into a crafty smirk. “Guilty as charged. But we have to work up an appetite, somehow.”
Yusuf strips his shirt back off and tosses it at his laptop. Just in time for Robert to push him back down to the bed and roll on top of him. Yusuf obligingly wraps his legs around Robert’s waist.
“Think you can get it up a fifth time?” Yusuf taunts, smiling up into flame-bright eyes.
That crafty smirk turns arrogant and Yusuf could swear he feels the beginnings of a hard-on growing against his own rather interested cock. “For you? I know I can, baby.”
“Mm . . . game-on, then.”
Epilogue: Ten months later. . . .
“How do I look?”
Robert’s impeccable, tuxedoed reflection joins Yusuf’s in the full-length mirror. His hands travel everywhere and his eyes are admiring.
“Delicious . . . you look even more beautiful than usual,” Robert says, kissing Yusuf’s cheek, then his neck, then his wool-covered shoulder. Yusuf smiles a little and leans back into the embrace waiting for him.
“But I feel like a trained chimp. Or maybe a waiter.” Yusuf sighs, tugging hopelessly on his tuxedo. “And my speech is horrible! Why on Earth did he choose me, Robert?”
“Maybe because you’re his best friend?” Robert’s hands come to rest on Yusuf’s fly. “And your speech is great. It’s funny and moving. I’ve told you that a hundred and fifty times.”
Yusuf sighs again. “I know. But I can’t help feeling as if I’m going to mess up their special day, somehow.”
“See, you’re not, baby,” Robert promises quietly, resting his chin on Yusuf’s shoulder. His eyes meet Yusuf’s in the mirror. “That’s just the nerves talking.”
“Yeah? Well, they’re talking pretty loud,” Yusuf mutters, and Robert smiles.
“I love you, you know that?”
Yusuf feels his own genuine, besotted smile crossing his face and stopping to stay awhile. Robert’s never been shy about declaring his feelings, but even after six months of doing so, hearing the I love yous still warms Yusuf to his core.
“I love you, too, Robert Fischer.”
Robert’s eyes go hooded and heated, and he unzips Yusuf’s fly, snaking his hand in and past the opening of Yusuf’s boxers. He takes Yusuf’s cock in hand and strokes it till Yusuf’s hard and breathing that way.
“God, we can’t, love,” Yusuf says, knowing already that, indeed, they damned well will. And Robert’s smile says much the same. Then he’s slipping around to face Yusuf, getting to his knees.
“It’ll cure those nerves of yours, for one thing, and for another thing-“ Robert holds Yusuf’s gaze while he pulls his cock out and licks it from root to tip. Yusuf moans, running his fingers through Robert’s hair. "For another thing, I like sucking you off while you're all fancied-up."
“We’re in a temple, Robert. . . .” Yusuf sputters, gently undulating his hips as Robert initiates then increases his suction.
“Mmhmm.”
“A temple!”
“Mm. . . .”
“There’s a special place in hell for men who give and receive blowjobs in holy buildings. You know that, right? And on the morning of their best friends’ wedding, no less.”
Robert pulls off of Yusuf, smiling. “And it’ll be worth it to blow you, then bugger you in Yahweh's house. On the morning of Conor and Arthur’s wedding, no less.”
Yusuf’s eyes widen with fake innocence. “And how did we go from blowjob, to buggery?”
“Don’t we always?” Robert’s blue eyes twinkle with humor and Yusuf thinks about it for a moment, then nods.
“This is true.”
“And will it, or will it not calm your nerves?”
“Well-“
Robert stands up, pulling Yusuf into his arms again. He kisses Yusuf, who can taste himself on Robert’s lips and tongue.
“I love you,” Robert says once more, and once more, Yusuf practically melts.
“I love you, too.”
Robert tilts his head. “Wanna maybe do what Conor and Arthur are doing, sometime soon?”
Yusuf’s brow furrows and he tries to imagine what Eames and Arthur are doing at this-or really any-given moment. “Weren’t we about to?”
Robert chuckles. “Not that-I mean, yes, that, but I was thinking that you might also do me the honor-“ one arm drops away from Yusuf and Robert digs in his pockets for a few moments “-of becoming my husband.”
He lets go of Yusuf completely and drops to one knee again, holding up a small open box with a platinum ring set with a ruby inside.
Yusuf’s mouth drops open and while he’s still in a state of gape-mouthed shock, Robert smirks and takes his hand, sliding the ring on. “Perfect fit. Just like us.”
“But-but-you? Marry? Me?” Yusuf stammers as Robert stands up, pulling Yusuf’s unresisting arms around his neck then putting his own around Yusuf’s waist. “Why?”
“Because I love you, Yusuf Muhammad, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Robert says earnestly, his piercing eyes staring intently into Yusuf’s.
Yusuf flushes, and looks away. “I want that, too, but . . . are you certain?” Somehow, he finds the courage to meet Robert’s eyes again. They’re still intent and intense.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Yusuf,” Robert says, leaning in to kiss Yusuf ardently. Yusuf responds just as ardently, hugging Robert close.
“Then, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you,” he murmurs on Robert’s lips, throwing caution to the wind, as he always has in their relationship.
It’s worth the risk.
Robert clinches Yusuf close. His hands slide down to Yusuf’s ass, pulling his pelvis tight against his own. He’s hard.
Yusuf laughs giddily, but quietly. “How about we skip the blowjob and just go straight to the buggery?”
“Baby, you read my mind,” Robert breathes, stealing one more kiss before manhandling Yusuf so that he’s facing the desk, one of the temple anteroom’s few pieces of furniture. He plasters his body to Yusuf’s, grasps Yusuf’s hips, and walks them forward, hooking his fingers in Yusuf’s waistband.
“You brought lube?” Yusuf asks as he braces his hands on the desk and spreads his legs. Robert snorts, one hand leaving Yusuf’s hip.
“Look who you’re asking.”
Yusuf rolls his eyes. “Yes, I forgot with whom I was dealing,” he says wryly, as he hears the small sound of a cap being flipped open.
Listening with half an ear to the slick whist-whist sounds of Robert coating his fingers and cock, Yusuf takes a few moments to admire the ring. Shaped not unlike a class ring, it has an inscription: Semper et perpetuum amorem.
Robert’s fingers breach him and immediately go to their work of stretching him. Yusuf’s breathing changes, speeds up, and stutters.
“What does Semper et perpetuum amorem mea-oh!” He gasps as Robert unerringly finds his prostate and applies increasing pressure to it. “Oh, Robert. . . .”
“It means,” Robert kisses into his hair. He stimulates Yusuf’s prostate one more time, till Yusuf’s shaking and moaning and writhing for more. “It means: Always and forever, my love.”
Yusuf finds himself blinking back tears as Robert lines himself up and enters him with a series of small but implacable thrusts. When he’s seated fully within Yusuf, Robert whispers in Yusuf’s ear: “And I mean just that: always and forever, my love. No one but you.”
“Oh, Robert,” Yusuf sniffs, feeling like a big girl, and completely beyond caring. He reaches behind himself to put one hand on Robert’s own, which has rejoined its mate on Yusuf’s hip. “I love you, too. Always and forever.”
Robert lets out a sigh that’s all relief, and starts to move, slowly and deliberately. “God, that’s good to hear. Say it again.”
“Always. And forever,” Yusuf enunciates, bowing his head like a penitent and spreading his legs as far apart as they’ll go, while still supporting him. “I’m yours.”
“Mine,” Robert agrees, leaving a trail of tiny kisses to Yusuf’s ear lobe, which he worries at gently. “And I’m yours.”
Then there’s nothing but the soft, happy grunts and moans of two people in love and expressing that love in the world’s oldest terms. At least until Yusuf comes, dragging Robert with him and gritting out his name through bitten lips. Robert himself comes with a drawn-out groan, filling Yusuf with wet, copious heat.
For a brief time afterwards, there’s only the huff and puff of heavy breathing, then the wet, softly sucking sounds of lazy kisses.
“You know . . . I’ve been carrying that ring around in my pocket since two months after we met,” Robert says, insinuating a hand between them to ease himself out of Yusuf, who immediately misses the sensation of being full. A warm, tacky mixture of come and lube tickles its way out of him.
“Really?”
“Yep.” Robert busies himself cleaning Yusuf with his silk handkerchief. “I kinda put all my chips on you falling madly in love with me.”
Yusuf snorts fondly. “Well, you won that bet.”
Robert kisses the back of Yusuf’s neck and swipes one last time with the handkerchief before tossing it at the wastebasket. “Did I ever.”
Smiling, Yusuf lets Robert pull up his pants and underwear, and rezips himself. Then he suffers himself to be turned to face Robert, who grins rakishly.
“Still nervous?”
Yusuf shakes his head no.
“See? I’m a miracle worker.”
Rolling his eyes, Yusuf smiles as he’s folded into Robert’s arms. “Yes, and it’ll be another miracle if I can make it down the aisle without everyone knowing what we were doing back here.”
“Yeah, I love to watch you walk all bow-legged after I’ve fucked you,” Robert whispers, stroking the small of Yusuf’s back. “Makes me want to fuck you all. Over. Again.”
“Save it for the coatroom at the reception hall,” Yusuf says, and Robert leans back just enough to look him in the eyes.
“You promise.”
“I promise.”
Robert chuckles and kisses him. “At some point, we’re supposed to slow down, right? To stop acting like a couple of horny teenagers, fucking whenever we get the chance, right?”
“God, I hope not,” Yusuf says sincerely. “I find it rather gratifying that being around you makes me raise wood on a dime.”
“Ditto.”
Yusuf returns that rakish grin and takes Robert’s hand. “C’mon, stud. We have wedding duties to attend to. Eames is probably freaking the fuck out, right about now. We’d best calm him down before he runs out of the temple screaming.”
“Okay . . . but we’re not calming him down the way I just calmed you down.” Robert scowls, and Yusuf laughs and turns toward the door, tugging on Robert’s hand.
“Actually. . . .” he begins with mock thoughtfulness. Robert pulls Yusuf back into his arms and kisses him hard.
“Mine,” he growls, only half-jokingly. "Remember?"
“Yours,” Yusuf agrees, meaning it with every fiber of his being. “Semper et perpetuum amorem.”
“Good.” Robert squeezes Yusuf’s hand and leads him to the door. He opens it and they’re both startled by a strikingly dapper, but harried-looking Eames, who barges in without noticing their surprise.
He’s carrying a flask and his boutonnière, and he makes his way to the room’s lone chair, flopping into it with a groan. He goes to take a swig from the boutonnière, swears, and tries again, this time with the flask.
“So, Arthur’s bubbe and yetta are peppering me with questions about when we’re going to have children. Whether we’re going to adopt, or have a surrogate mother-whether we’ll raise the little tykes Jewish-“ Eames takes another swig, runs his hand over his yarmulke, and looks even more harried. Then he looks at Robert and Yusuf as if really seeing them. His eyes tick from their linked hands to their flushed faces and he rolls his eyes. “Bloody hell, at my wedding? In Arthur’s family’s temple?”
Yusuf, at least, has the grace to look contrite. “Sorry, Eames, but-“ he holds out his hand and smiles so big, it feels like it stretches from ear to ear. “Robert and I just got engaged!”
Eames blinks. Then smiles, himself. “Congrats, Yusuf. Robert.” He gets up and holds out his hand to Robert for shaking. Robert takes it without hesitation, almost smiling himself. “About time you made our boy an honest man.”
“I could say the same for you and Arthur, Conor.”
“He could, but he won’t,” Yusuf interrupts to say, letting Eames hug him. He hugs back just as hard. “After all, we have a wedding to pull off.”
“Don't remind me,” Eames looks momentarily harried again, but lets Yusuf and Robert, each with a hand on his back, to lead him to the door. Robert takes the flask and Yusuf the boutonnière. “Is it normal to be so nervous? I mean, I want this more than anything, but-I’m so bloody anxious! What if Arthur changes his mind? What if someone objects? What if-?”
“You’ll both be fine. I decree it as your best man,” Yusuf says firmly, pinning the boutonnière to the lapel of Eames’s white tuxedo jacket and kissing Eames on the cheek. Robert, meanwhile, has slipped the flask into his right breast pocket. “Now, let’s get you married before you have a nervous breakdown. Then you and Arthur can get started on those little Eames-Krakauers. Okay?”
“Ha-bloody-ha. I hope you’ll remember that lovely sense of humor when it’s your turn to walk down the aisle,” Eames mutters, glaring daggers at them both. “Let’s see how certain you two are when it’s your turn.”
Yusuf’s and Robert’s gazes meet behind Eames's back.
Always, Robert mouths, and Yusuf blows him a kiss.
Forever, he returns.
And together-always together-they lead a still-muttering Eames out to his destiny.
End