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... )
"How much do you want for that?" Pinkerton says, flustered, and it takes Eames a moment to understand Pinkerton means Arthur's shirt, which Eames has absent-mindedly folded to carry under his arm.
"Sorry, mate," Eames says, smiling just enough to show teeth. "Got plans for it." Those plans mostly involve the laundry hamper, but Pinkerton doesn't need to know that.
Pinkerton's own smile wavers and dies. He turns away without a word, the flush on his face receding quickly. He smoothes his jacket and shakes his head before leaving, as if to clear his mind of everything that took place. Handy, that, how embarrassment makes people likelier not to overthink things, to ignore the little details that don't fit. Eames should remember that.
The drive to their hotel room is a lonely one, but Eames can hardly let himself be seen with Arthur just now. As it is, they're being criminally lax about their safety and discretion. But just this once, perhaps they can allow themselves a little slack.
~~
When Eames reaches the hotel, he waits until the door is closed to shove off his trousers and lie on the bed, panting, eyes closed.
He can't decide, is actually torn between having a quick wank right where he is and waiting for Arthur to return. He wants relief, needs it right now, but he needs even more to pin Arthur to the wall, to the bed, to sink to his knees in front of Arthur, yes -
"Starting without me?" Arthur's voice is warm, amused, and Eames nearly jumps out of his skin because he didn't hear Arthur coming in.
"Didn't think you'd be here yet," Eames says, hoping that Arthur will put his shortness of breath down to - well, anything but what it is, really. It's a silly hope, but Eames is fond of those.
"They let me out early." Arthur sits down next to Eames, leaning into him, legs spread out in an invitation Eames doesn't want to ignore. He has no idea why he's holding back, cupping his hand over his cock as though there's something there Arthur hasn't seen yet.
Arthur's dressed again, fresh and pressed. His shirt is different, but otherwise he's wearing the same clothes. Excepting the hair, he looks just like he does on the job. Eames wants to kiss him so badly it burns, but he can't convince himself to move.
"Apparently I've made twice as much money, in tips, as their usual guy," Arthur says. "It's surprisingly lucrative. Maybe I should switch jobs."
He's teasing, Eames knows he is. Arthur's trying to make Eames laugh, to make Eames tackle him into the bed so they can go back to being themselves again. But Eames remains still.
"I'd rather you didn't," Eames says, quietly, and turns his face to Arthur's. Who is looking - not shocked, exactly, but closer to it than comfort would allow.
"Okay," Arthur says, strangely rushed. "Okay. I was kidding. I wouldn't. You know I wouldn't, right?"
Eames should be saying that of course he did, of course Arthur could do whatever he chose and hardly needed Eames' permission to do anything. But at times Eames is a selfish man. He's comfortable with that. "I know," he says, and bends to press his face to Arthur's stomach, breathing in clean sweat and unfamiliar detergent.
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