Inception Kink Fest
Welcome to the Inception fandom Kink Fest!
This fandom puts out some seriously amazing fic on a regular basis, but I am of the opinion that there should always always ALWAYS be more kinky porn. You guys, our fandom has guns and bondage and daddy issues and dream forgery. I say it's time to bring on the kink, yes?
♥ Inception Kink Fest ♥You can ( Read more... )
This fandom puts out some seriously amazing fic on a regular basis, but I am of the opinion that there should always always ALWAYS be more kinky porn. You guys, our fandom has guns and bondage and daddy issues and dream forgery. I say it's time to bring on the kink, yes?
♥ Inception Kink Fest ♥You can ( Read more... )
It was only an accident.
Mostly though, it was Yusuf's fault, and that was what mattered.
He had come up with some ridiculous new compound that had a long science-y sounding explanation that even Arthur with his love for attention to detail got bored listening to. He feared Yusuf's imagination, mostly because (according to Eames at least) he didn't have one, but he still went under with Eames to test it out, and it was all Yusuf's fault.
When they'd woken up, everything seemed fine. Emphasis on seemed.
"How was it?" Yusuf asked.
"No complaints," Arthur replied, pulling the needle out of his arm. "It's a little fuzzy around the edges though, and I've got a mild headache."
Yusuf nodded. "Eames, any problems?"
"Nope. I'm just dandy," Eames replied, lounging in his seat, smiling contentedly. "The colors were a bit fuzzy, but nothing too noticeable."
Except for a tightwad like Arthur.
Arthur blinked but didn't rise to Eames's bait. Yusuf hadn't even bothered to acknowledge it.
"I'll keep working on it then," Yusuf said, shooing them off. "I'll call you back again in an hour or two and test it again, if that's all right."
Arthur nodded and stood, stretching his arms above his head.
Fuck, you have such a fine little arse.
Arthur looked back at Eames, scowling a little.
"What?" Eames asked innocently.
"Nothing," Arthur replied, but it sounded like an accusation.
"Meeting!" Cobb called, and they all gathered around the white board.
(Gotta go drive home. Will finish then...)
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Oh, God, not this shit again.
Arthur glanced at Eames with surprise and then looked to Cobb to listen to his reprimand for speaking so crudely...
...but Cobb hadn't noticed...
It wasn't like he'd said it quietly. Arthur was tempted to say something himself, but if everyone else was ignoring Eames, he figured it must have just been some planned punishment that everyone but he was in on.
...Even if that didn't make sense.
Arthur looked down at his notebook, writing down fine points that Cobb was going over, when suddenly...
Ugh... I'd rather be doing anything else than listening to him talking bollocks... Hum... I'd like to take this lovely little cigarette and burn it against Arthur's pretty little arse.
Arthur's back snapped, and he looked at Eames harshly, but no one noticed.
No one noticed? How the hell did they not here that?!
Eames licked at his lips, and Arthur heard him chuckle, but he didn't see it.
Arthur's brows furrowed.
I can think of a lot of things I'd like to do to that pretty little arse come to think of it.
Arthur felt his ears burn, and he realized that no one had heard him because... because he...
Because he wasn't saying it out loud.
Arthur was hearing Eames's thoughts.
In his head.
He was hearing Eames's thoughts in his fucking head.
It was all Yusuf's fault.
Arthur looked back down to his notebook, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to decide whether or not to get Yusuf, to call Eames out on it, or just plain leave. He was sure he had to do something, but what? It was just too awkward to say something.
Unf. Fuck, I would fuck that little arse right into next Tuesday.
Arthur swallowed, tensing. The way Eames's accent rolled off of the word 'Tuesday'... Oh, fuck.
I'd like to fuck him up against the wall so hard that he forgets his fucking name. I'd fuck him so hard when he came he'd wind up on the damned ceiling.
Arthur's hands gripped into white knuckled fists, and he couldn't look at Eames or things would get messy, both figuratively and possibly literally. Knowing what he was thinking, imagining in front of all these people, the way his thoughts were as gruff and rumbling as he was sure Eames's voice was in the bedroom...
"Oh, Jesus," he gasped.
"What?" Ariadne glanced over.
"Nothing," Arthur squeaked. "I'm fine... just thinking."
Ariadne shrugged and looked back to Cobb who was lecturing about level 3 of dreams.
After fucking him against the wall, I'd slam him down over the desk and bang him so hard he'd break the damned thing in half.
Arthur's trousers were becoming unbearably tight, and he was having more and more trouble ignoring it. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair and pulled at his collar because it was getting far too hot in the room now.
Oh, yeah... I'd suck his prick. I wouldn't be ashamed of that. I'd swallow him whole, right down to the hilt until he can't speak.
Arthur already couldn't speak, mouth going dry. He licked his lips, but that only reminded him of his own mouth, which reminded him of Eames's mouth, which reminded him of Eames's mouth on his--
I'd like to make him scream. I'd bet he's a screamer, that one. He's usually so quiet. I want to make that dapper little shit fall to his knees and fucking beg. Ooh, I do believe I'd like that very much.
Arthur was beginning to think he'd like that very much too. He spread his legs under the desk. His erection was becoming painful. The worst part was, there was no way he could excuse himself to the restroom and relieve himself because if he stood, they would all look at him, and they would all see, and Eames would see and--
That was fucking hot as hell.
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I'd make him say my name. I'd shove my fist so far up his ass I'd be pulling teeth. I'd make that motherfucker do filthy things he'd never be able to imagine.
Arthur yelped.
Cobb paused in mid-sentence. "Something wrong, Arthur?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head furiously. His voice had risen nearly a full octave.
"Are you sure? You're kind of flushed," Ariadne said, damn her.
"Fine," Arthur said curtly.
Cobb shrugged and went back to writing on the white board. Arthur couldn't even read it, he was so clouded with arousal.
I'd take him back to my flat and fuck him over every surface... twice... no, three times.
Arthur couldn't help it. He risked a glance at Eames, and the motherfucker was smiling like he knew Arthur could hear him, and fuck he was looking at him with eyes far too dark to be normal. Arthur couldn't understand how he could fantasize like that and remain so calm.
...and then a thought occurred to Arthur.
Can Eames hear my thoughts too?
Eames raised his eyebrows at Arthur, slipping the cigarette between his lips. "Problem, darling?" he asked, quietly so as not to disturb Cobb while he was apparently on a role.
Arthur didn't even open his mouth but still made a noise... He mewled. He fucking mewled, and Eames heard it.
Arthur rubbed his palm against his cock, and he knew that the Dunhill trousers he was wearing were already suffering damage from pre-come, and he tried to think about something, anything else to try to calm himself down, but Eames's thoughts were becoming progressively, impossibly nastier, and suddenly he was lifting his hips off of the chair just a little into his own touch.
Oh, yeah, that's right... You think I don't see what you're doing over there.
Arthur stared at Eames through his peripheral vision, and he was grinning through a haze of cigarette smoke, watching Arthur like a hawk.
I do hope you're imagining that's my hand.
And then Arthur was. He really was.
His hips jumped, and he shouted, and fuck he was so close.
"Arthur?" Cobb asked, and he looked genuinely concerned.
"Oy, Cobb, what do you mean by that?" Eames asked suddenly. "Could you a bit more specific?"
Arthur had forgotten any of them were there because in his mind, Eames was jacking him off, kissing and biting down his neck, fingering him, and...
"EAMES!" he shouted and came hard in his trousers.
"What?" Eames asked, and Arthur realized he was standing, really hunching over the desk, gasping for air like he'd just run a marathon.
Arthur stammered for a moment, unable to think of anything other than, Oh, shit.
"IT'S ALL YUSUF'S FAULT!" he shouted, unable to come up with anything else.
"What is?" Yusuf asked, looking genuinely offended.
Arthur just pointed at Eames, unable to say. He was still trembling as he came down from his high.
Eames just shrugged.
"Is there something wrong with the compound? Are you having side effects?" Yusuf asked.
Arthur just whined, slumping against the desk like a wet noodle, losing strength in his limbs.
"What is wrong with him?" Ariadne asked.
"You may need to check that compound," Eames said, walking across the room and placing his hand on Arthur's neck.
Arthur mewled again, unable to stop himself. He was a limp, sweaty, flushed mess.
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"I can hear your thoughts," Arthur whispered back.
Eames jumped back, and suddenly he was red-faced too. "Ahm... Yusuf?"
"I can't fix anything if I don't know what the problem is!" Yusuf complained.
"Arthur can hear my uh-- hear my thoughts."
"What were you thinking about to turn him into that?" Ariadne asked, pointing at Arthur who was pounding his fist on the desktop in frustration. "Were you just chucking insults at him or something?"
"Not exactly..." Eames said vaguely. "Either way, this problem needs to be remedied immediately."
"Okay... uh... meeting adjourned?" Cobb said, confused.
Arthur turned on his heel then, shoving Eames on the chest but also using him as a shield to hide his soiled pants from the rest of the team. "I am going to make you pay!" he shouted angrily.
"I should have the problem fixed in the next couple of hours or so!" Yusuf called to them as Arthur practically threw Eames out the door.
As soon as the steel doors slammed behind them, Arthur growled against Eames's ear, "I'm going to make it so you can't think coherently."
Eames raised his eyebrows again, wrinkling his forehead, and said, "That sounds like a punishment I could get behind."
Oh, hell yes, Eames thought.
When they came back three and a half hours later, Eames was spacey and his shirt was untucked and Arthur was in a new suit and looking extremely self-satisfied.
Yusuf gave them the antidote, and he wasn't sure what happened...
...but he was pretty sure it was his fault.
He was also pretty sure that both Eames and Arthur thanked him for it.
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brilliant.
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