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... )
The rope is so twisted up from them moving around that Eames doesn’t even try, just cuts Arthur out of the rope, rubbing over his arms before pulling him to his feet. Eames uses the wet wipes to clean up all the come and the lube. Arthur’s covered, it’s streaked across his chest, on his back and arse from where he lay in the earlier puddle, lube and spit between his cheeks and down his thighs. Eames runs the towel through his hair, wipes most of the sweat and remaining stuff from Arthur’s skin. Arthur is unsteady on his feet, still dazed. Eames chuckles and lets him lean against him while he wipes off the table. They lay back down, tangled together and kissing him lazily.
Eventually, Arthur blinks slowly, eyes coming to focus on Eames’ face. “Alright, there?” Eames asks.
Arthur nods. “I - uh, yeah.” Arthur swallows. “Holy shit, that was - God, Eames.”
Eames is too tempted. “Not god, darling. Just your run of the mill thief, as I think you once said.” Arthur scowls and bats at him ineffectually. He hasn’t regained use of his limbs, just yet. They’re silent for a moment or two, Eames enjoying the warmth of Arthur’s skin against him. Eames runs a hand through Arthur’s hair, messed beyond belief. “I never pegged you for the submissive type.” Eames ponders aloud.
Arthur hums. “I don’t do it often.”
“Why do you enjoy it?” Eames prompts when Arthur says nothing further.
Arthur pushes up onto one elbow to look down at Eames. “I do it when I get too wound. It helps me relax, like if I give control over to someone, then I can just forget everything for a while. Escape.”
“Interesting,” Eames feels a stab of jealousy at the thought of someone else have that kind of power over Arthur, being able to do that to Arthur.
“I’ve never done it quite like this before, though.” Eames raises an eyebrow in question. “I’ve never had sex during a scene. That’s never what it’s been about.”
Eames is stunned, feeling the jealousy subside. “Where do you go, in your headspace?”
Arthur thinks a moment, letting his head fall back onto Eames’ chest. “It wasn’t so much a headspace, as a feeling of contentment. Like, I trusted you to take care of me, to be there if I needed you.”
“I hope you feel that way regardless.” Eames blurts, indignant.
“I do, it’s more than that.” Arthur fires back, then sighs. “I don’t know, Eames. That’s why I only do this when I really need it. Usually to unwind I just go to the shooting range, or something.”
“Okay,” Eames concedes, returning his hand to stroke through Arthur’s hair, still damp with sweat. He has an idea, then. “Let’s go back to the hotel. We can grab a shower and some room service. How about it?”
“Yeah, okay.” Arthur pushes up, only to collapse against Eames again. “As soon as I can get up,”
Eames laughs at that, he has to. “I really did break you,” Eames wraps his arms around Arthur and holds on.
“When you tie me up and let me struggle against you like I did, yeah.”
“Oh, so now this is my fault?”
“Shut up, this is kind of uncharted territory for me.”
“Okay, okay.” Eames laughs again, but they’re running out of time. “C'mon, I’ll help you up.” Eames guides Arthur to sit in the armchair while Eames pulls on his clothes. After he’s dressed himself, he helps Arthur back into all of the pieces of his suit. When they’re both dressed and looking somewhat decent, they head for the main part of the club, grabbing their coats and hailing a cab.
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