[ Good. Sometimes it's still hard not to expect Arthur's wrath when he does things like this. But no, he's not angry, he's kissing back, making delicious noises in the back of his throat and Eames could get head-drunk off that, on the sounds that Arthur could make with just the right touches.
Still leaning precariously, one hand curled around the side to keep himself up, while the other strokes rough fingertips over his cheekbone. Eames deepens the kiss, exploring Arthur's mouth with careful, glorious attention. ]
[ The hand on the back of his neck is gloriously distracting, and Eames really is going to topple in a moment. Nuzzling along his jaw, breath hitting the point of his fast thumping pulse. ] Darling, I'm going to be very forward right now. You're not allowed to hit me for it. But either I join you down there, or you come upstairs with me where I can kiss you properly. [ Teasing his teeth over his ear. ] I'm particularly fond of the latter.
[ This is - well more than he thought it would be, to have Arthur coming willingly, to have the man so usually put together, melting now under his attention. With Arthur pushed up, Eames can slide his fingers inside the gap of his shirt collar and crook them. ]
Let's just say I think it's finally time to go all-in, don't you? [ Rising, pulling Arthur up with him. ] We good?
[ Amusement and desire spark off him like fireworks. Eames certainly didn't intend to come in and make a move, but like all things in their lives, he doesn't dwell. He's wanted this for about as long as he remembers, harking back to the cocksure little shit he'd been when they met, impossibly drawn in by Arthur's tucked away nature and the dry quirk of his lips. He'd hated him, simply because he'd been made to want him.
Breathing slowly, trying to make his mind catch up below that thin thrum of wantneedwant circling his veins, Eames waits just long enough to make it up the stairs before he's turning Arthur, pressing him into the cool of his bedroom door, mouth slanted in a wicked smile when he leans in to kiss him. ]
[ He's not being pushed back, in fact, quite the opposite. That alone makes Eames bolder, pressing right into Arthur, the hard line of muscle keeping him still while he licks into his mouth. Arthur's hips are surprisingly trim underneath Eames' hands, fingers splaying across the gap between waistcoat and his trousers, creating heat through the thin of his shirt.
Eames wants to undress him bit by bit like Arthur is a present. He thinks maybe that's kind of the point.
His kiss contains just the hint of a growl, before he's mouthing at his jaw, making wicked work with his lips. He wants to keep kissing him, wants to suck bruises into his skin, would be quite happy to do this right here, but if he gets Arthur to his bed - well, there's years and years worth of thought to make good on. ]
[ Eames' laugh is a stutter against Arthur's mouth, correcting his balancing when the door gives and dragging Arthur closer, using his rather impressive build to keep them both upright. His breathing is deep, ragged when he presses his face against the curve of his throat, just above his shirt collar. ]
Says the bloke who dresses like he's Fort Knox. [ Tugging lightly on his clothes. ] What do you say? Do I get to crack the code?
[ He's basically walking Arthur backwards with a push of his body, smirking into the heat of his skin and letting his hands drift, drag over his chest, catch against too many fucking layers. ] Darling, darling. Even if you didn't, I'm the best, I'd get in. [ He taps his chest, before deft fingers pull on his waistcoat. ] God, but you've been the worst, do you know that?
[ Buttons. Buttons. How does one - ] I hate the way you dress. It's been the most elaborate strip tease of my life.
Mmm. [ The sound is pressed into Arthur's mouth, and he could shrug out of his own shirt, but his hands are busy pulling the other man against him, sliding across his trim waist and down, blessedly curving around his arse like he's been wanting to do since they met.
Then it's with another frantic little movement, biting down on his lower lip just to tug his shirt free. ] You were such a put together little shit when we met. The suits. Fuck. [ Shoving his hands greedily under his shirt, fingernails dragging lightly along his back. ] I spent the majority of our first job together wondering what it would be like to shove you into that back room and thoroughly defile you still in it.
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Still leaning precariously, one hand curled around the side to keep himself up, while the other strokes rough fingertips over his cheekbone. Eames deepens the kiss, exploring Arthur's mouth with careful, glorious attention. ]
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Let's just say I think it's finally time to go all-in, don't you? [ Rising, pulling Arthur up with him. ] We good?
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Breathing slowly, trying to make his mind catch up below that thin thrum of wantneedwant circling his veins, Eames waits just long enough to make it up the stairs before he's turning Arthur, pressing him into the cool of his bedroom door, mouth slanted in a wicked smile when he leans in to kiss him. ]
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Eames wants to undress him bit by bit like Arthur is a present. He thinks maybe that's kind of the point.
His kiss contains just the hint of a growl, before he's mouthing at his jaw, making wicked work with his lips. He wants to keep kissing him, wants to suck bruises into his skin, would be quite happy to do this right here, but if he gets Arthur to his bed - well, there's years and years worth of thought to make good on. ]
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Says the bloke who dresses like he's Fort Knox. [ Tugging lightly on his clothes. ] What do you say? Do I get to crack the code?
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
[ Buttons. Buttons. How does one - ] I hate the way you dress. It's been the most elaborate strip tease of my life.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Then it's with another frantic little movement, biting down on his lower lip just to tug his shirt free. ] You were such a put together little shit when we met. The suits. Fuck. [ Shoving his hands greedily under his shirt, fingernails dragging lightly along his back. ] I spent the majority of our first job together wondering what it would be like to shove you into that back room and thoroughly defile you still in it.
Reply
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