It'll be like a video game (4)
Chapter 4
Eames began sketching out the fresco with Ahuatzin's notes as soon as they returned to the hotel. He used several sheets of paper: one with the general overview and several others with close-ups of the details. It was quite late when Ariadne finally approached him.
"I've packed away my stuff. We can go over all this tomorrow, in the afternoon."
"Yep.” Eames said while colouring the sulfurous yellow of the Goddess's skin.
It took him several more hours before he had everything drawn and written out. When Eames finally sat up and stretched he realized that Arthur was still in the common area working away at his laptop. Eames stood and went to stand behind him. Well, Eames had thought he was working. Arthur was in fact on Youtube. He ignored Eames and clicked on a video. Up popped the image of a spider, a tarantula according to the title.
Eames recoiled, “Ugh, Arthur. Really?” He couldn’t imagine why Arthur would…after the way he’d died in the dream.
“I really don’t want to develop arachnophobia Eames. It’s inconvenient.”
“Have you been looking at spider videos this whole time? Because that’s a bit of overkill love.”
“I’ve been watching comedy videos between spiders." Arthur took a sip of his beer, "Positive conditioning.” Eames laughed. “Beer’s in the fridge," Arthur said. "I’m watching Robin Williams next.”
The debrief was a bit unnecessary. Eames gave them the Cole’s Notes version of Ahuatzin’s findings, Ariadne was immensely pleased. She would bring the results with her when she went back to Paris. Her flight was that evening. She left letting them know that they'd receive the other half of their payment in a week or so.
With the pressure of the job off their shoulders Arthur and Eames spent the remaining day lounging in the suite. Mostly, they watched videos on Arthur's laptop and drank. It was nicer than when Ariadne had been gone for her research. Eames had said as much and Arthur replied with a shrug, "I like to stay focused on the job."
Eames hummed in response, then said, "I'm sorry for questioning you in the dream. It was unprofessional."
Arthur shrugged again, "It's fine."
"No, it really wasn't." Arthur fiddled about on his computer and Eames pressed, "That Inception job was a fluke. I've never heard about you...well about you ever fucking up really. So, I imagine trying to organize everything and keep Cobb off the deep-end probably made your job more difficult than it had to be. You do good work."
"Thank you Eames," Arthur replied stiffly.
"Besides, it wouldn't have been nearly as problematic if Cobb hadn't drugged us," Eames added.
Arthur's mouth curved up at the corner, "You know Yusuf drugged us right?"
Eames waved a hand, "Literally, yes. Yes he did. But it was Cobbs job and he didn't tell us. Do you know everything in the Somnacin dose you buy from your chemist."
"No," Arthur admitted. Then he grinned broadly and said, "Hey have you seen this video?"
It was later after hours of brain-rotting youtube videos with cats being strange and America's Funniest Home Videos-style stupidity that Arthur leaned into Eames a little too heavily. Touched his arm a bit too often.
Eames' usual philosophy was that if he was going to sleep with someone who had a dick he was going to get fucked, he was selfish like that. As it was, he had pegged Arthur for a total bottom. So when Arthur eventually placed a gentle hand on his chest, gave him a questioning look, Eames thought that perhaps they could wank each other off, or something, he wasn’t sure if he was in the mood for giving fellatio. Those thoughts were scattered as Arthur proceeded to ravage Eames’ mouth.
That gentle hand clawed at Eames chest, finger-tips scraping through the fabric of his’ shirt. When they finally pulled away from one another Eames blinked for a moment to regain his senses. Arthur' lips were red and spit-slick. Eames’ lips must look the same because Arthur brought a hand up to Eames’ face and traced his thumb over Eames’ mouth.
“Bed?” he smirked
“Yes please.” Eames croaked, then cleared his throat.
Clothes were annoying but soon they were both naked and sprawled on on Arthur’s bed kissing. Arthur kept his weight off Eames, which he appreciated and they lay side by side, their thighs twined and rubbing against one another. Arthur brought a hand to squeeze around both of their cocks making Eames' hips twitch. It was a bit dry, but Eames’ foreskin was rolling around the crown of his prick perfectly.
“Take over.” Arthur murmured before releasing their erections and trailing his hand up Eames’ torso. Eames complied squeezing too hard at first making Arthur hiss before he eased up with an apology. Arthur scratched through Eames’ chest hair before pinching his nipples lightly and sliding his palm around to smooth over Eames' back.
Arthur pulled away and leaned over to his bedside table. "You top or bottom?" he asked as he rifled through the drawer's contents.
"Bottom if you don't mind."
"Kay." Arthur slapped the condoms on the dresser and proceeded to liberally coat his fingers with lube. He lay back on his side and motioned for Eames to bring his leg up to give him access. Arthur started kissing Eames again before letting his slippery fingers trailed over the cleft of Eames' arse. After far more teasing than Eames thought was necessary Arthur pressed a slim finger into Eames' hole. Arthur prepped him like that, careful and patient while exchanging playful kisses.
Eames wasn’t as flexible as he had been in his younger days so when Arthur settled between his legs, they ended up splayed more than bent up. Arthur frowned for a moment and reached over Eames to grab a pillow, shoving it under Eames’ hips. “Thanks, love.” Arthur smiled but his gaze was fixed at the apex of Eames’ thighs, his thumb slid in circled around Eames’ entrance.
Eames shuddered, “Darling, I’m sure it’s fascinating, but if you’d be so kind.”
Arthur chuckled and brought his hand to his own cock and shuffled forward. Eames felt the tip of the condom brush him and then the hardness of Arthur rubbing back and forth against him, “Arthur.” Eames whined.
Arthur laugh and began to press himself forward. Eames marveled at the way Arthur’s abdominals flexed and twitched as he sank into him. When Arthur finally bottomed out he closed his eyes and let out a relieved groan. Then he dazedly peered down at Eames spread out beneath him.
Arthur dug his fingers into Eames’ hips and dragged him up so his arse was resting on Arthur’s thighs. The new position limited Arthur’s range of motion and his depth substantially, but the angle made Eames cry out with every rock of his hips. Of course Arthur would be efficient about all this, would be pin point accurate about where he put his dick. The head of his cock rubbed against Eames’ prostate with each upward thrust. There was sweat gathering at Arthur’s temples and above his upper lip but the way his body moved was leisurely.
One of Arthur’s hands left Eames’ hips and came to rest low on Eames’ belly pressing against the thatch of pubic hair. Arthur rubbed there at first, a nearly soothing gesture. Then he pressed with the heel of his hand and Eames moaned at the feeling of having his prostate stimulated from outside.
If Arthur’s intention was to render Eames incoherent, he was succeeding. Eames looked up at him about to say as much but Arthur’s expression was one of absolute concentration. “Having fun love?” Eames gasped. Arthur’s eyes snapped to his, as if he’d been caught doing something embarrassing. “Only you look as though I’m a particularly troubling algorithm. Or equation. Or- oh!- cheeky- whatever you look at on your laptop all day.”
“How are you still talking?” Arthur really did have a lovely smile.
Eames knew his own smile was probably dopey, but he didn’t care. Arthur was a fabulous fuck, he deserved to see Eames look a bit ridiculous. “I knew that was your plan.”
“What?” Arthur ground his cock against Eames’s insides, dug hard into his abdomen, “render you speechless.”
“Uh-huh.” Fuck words. Arthur wanted him speechless, he could have his speechless so long as he kept doing that.
Eames realized that Arthur was speaking and grunted in question. “I said, can you come from this?”
“No.” Eames slurred out.
“Why don’t you play with yourself then?” Arthur had slowed down, as though talking and fucking at the same time was slightly beyond him.
Eames arched, “I’d like to drag this out at long as possible if you don’t mind.”
Arthur snorted, “Lazy-ass.”
“Quite right.”
Arthur began to fold himself down, but halted partway, mindful of Eames’ need for space. “S’alright,” Arthur said quietly, “you feel so good. I don’t mind.” Eames hummed in response. In this position, Arthur's abdomen was hot against Eames’ balls.
Soon Arthur’s smooth rolls picked up pace and he began to snap into Eames. Everything was still controlled, still perfect and Arthur. Eames found himself toying with his own nipples, palming his chest. His prick jostled around against his belly with every one of Arthur’s thrusts.
Eventually, Arthur gasped, “Oh fuck” and then began to hammer his hips against Eames’ arse. Eames slitted his eyes open, wanting to see Arthur finally come undone. Arthur went tense as he hunched his shoulders, red face twisted into a grimace as he grunted before going lax.
“No. Wait. Let me. I can-“ Arthur said when Eames tried to take himself in hand.
Eames waved magnanimously towards his erection “Alright.”
Arthur fondled Eames lightly for a moment, as though to re-acquaint himself. When Arthur did tighted his grip and stroke Eames off in earnest it didn't take long for him to reach his climax. Eames gazed down at his cock wanting to memorize the sight of Arthur’s pale hand around him. The dark red head of his prick blurted all over Arthur’s knuckles, Eames' whole shaft twitching in Arthur’s grip.
Arthur pulled out carefully and pattered off to the bathroom. Eames heard the tap turn on and then Arthur returned with damp wash cloth which he handed to Eames before settling onto the bed next to him. Once Eames was clean he got under the blankets and intended to sleep forever.
“Good?” Arthur’s voice was quiet in the darkness.
“Delightful.” Eames replied drowsily. “We must do it again sometime.” Arthur chuckled.
The next morning with their bags packed, they shared their last meal in the suite’s kitchenette. Arthur had a late morning flight off to his next job. The conversation was relaxed.
As they were clearing up Arthur cleared his throat “It may seem that Miss Croft may have won this round.”
“I beg your pardon?” Eames arched an eyebrow.
“Well, in the end Jones needed Croft’s guns since you need to get pretty close to your enemy to use a cutlass. And it’s messier.”
Eames would have argued, but he felt delightfully sore. And Arthur had died painfully so the job could get finished. “I will concede your point. Though I must suggest a rematch.” They hadn’t had time for another romp that morning.
Arthur flashed a grin, “Well, I’ve got a job coming up in about a month that needs a forger if you’re interested.”