Porn Battle XII ficlets
It’s Porn Battle XII time and I wrote porn. Go figure. ;)
None of these were beta’ed. These are all Inception ficlets, in the Show Me Your Teeth series. I still don't know why I put them in the same 'verse, BUT WHY NOT? Smut with these three is always pretty. :D
"After The Change." Inception - Ariadne/Arthur/Eames, partnership
Ariadne and Arthur hauled Eames into the biggest bathtub they could find in the villa. Eames' transformation into a werewolf the night before had been brutal, leaving him screaming for hours before it had turned into howling instead. When the thrashing and writhing had stopped, Ariadne sneaked into the room to comb her fingers through the fur on his body. He was a large wolf, and she had carefully avoided his muzzle, just in case he couldn't remember who she was. His fur was a golden color, darker than his hair had been, and his eyes were that feverishly bright blue that his eyes had started becoming. He let out a soft whine as Arthur strode into the room, jaws tight in worry and concern. Those blue eyes swung between the two of them, and there had been a startling kind of knowledge in them, as if he hadn't actually lost who he was in the transformation.
"Does it hurt?" Ariadne had whispered.
Eames the wolf nodded, and Arthur's mouth fell open. "Jesus."
"Do we know anything about what could help? Arthur? You're the one that does the research..." Ariadne began.
Arthur sputtered slightly. "Everything is myth. There's no way to tell what's accurate or not, and we don't know who else might know what's the truth about this situation." He frowned when Eames whined again. "If you're willing, we can see if alcohol works, or pain medication. It works with dogs, but I don't know enough about wolf physiology, let alone werewolf physiology."
Eames seemed to be willing to try anything, so they washed down the extra strength ibuprofen with as much water and juice that he would allow. He licked Ariadne's hand, eyes softer than before now that the change was complete. It had been hell on him, but apparently now the agitation was gone.
"We should undo the chains," she murmured, stroking the fur. It was soft, feeling just like Eames' hair did. "He won't hurt us."
Though Arthur wasn't entirely pleased with that plan, he agreed and started undoing the chains around Eames' ankles. When Eames didn't kick or lunge at them, he carefully undid the chains around his wrists. Eames was too exhausted to really move, which is how Ariadne and Arthur teamed up to drag Eames into the bathroom. The water in the tub was warm and not very deep. It was more to try to soothe him, to see if that would help ease whatever pain might be left from the transition. Eames whined when Arthur stepped back, and the point man frowned at Ariadne. "We both need to help," she said quietly, kneeling beside the tub. Eames nuzzled her arm and closed his teeth around the bathrobe she had put on to preserve her modesty. He tugged sharply, and Ariadne let out a bit of nervous laughter. "Come on, Arthur. I can't do this by myself."
With a sigh, Arthur knelt beside the tub as well. "How did I get dragged into this? It was supposed to be a straightforward extraction that would net us a tidy little nest egg. I was supposed to be able to pick and choose whatever jobs we were going to do. God only knows what mess Eames would have gotten us into if he was left in charge of this enterprise."
Ariadne looked at him, a fond smile on her face. "So you're still planning to work together in the future? The three of us? Even after all this?"
Arthur had to turn away from her after a moment, though he couldn't meet Eames' too-knowing eyes either. "I can't leave the two of you to fend for yourselves. Eames is going to do something else phenomenally stupid, and I don't want that on my watch."
Eames made a snuffling noise that might have been laughter, which was a bit disconcerting. Ariadne smiled and kissed Arthur's cheek, glad that their work relationship wouldn't necessarily change just because everything else was so mixed up.
The bedroom where Eames had shifted was a mess of fluids and blood. Arthur pulled a face at the sight of it, sighing. "We'll just torch it and replace the furniture." Eames made that snuffling noise again, and Ariadne toweled him off with whatever towels and sheets she had brought with her from the bathroom. They wound up going to another bedroom. Eames seemed in control of himself, though Arthur clearly didn't like the way Eames kept licking his teeth and muzzle and looking at them. He remembered their former employer's rapid shift and immediate attack, and he silently told himself that he would kill Eames rather than risk Ariadne's safety. While she was nervous, she felt safe enough to curl up on a different bed with Eames. Arthur sat stiffly beside them, intending to stay awake the rest of the night.
He fell asleep, waking up abruptly at the feel of a hand clutching desperately at his thigh. He had dressed during Eames' change, including his shoulder rig and Glock. He had found silverware in the house that was actually silver, and he had put three knives into he holster as well. He would worry about his Glock later, if it turned out to be an unnecessary precaution.
Arthur blinked rapidly to shake the cobwebs from his brain. It was Ariadne's hand around his thigh, and she was gasping in pleasure, arching beneath Eames. It was daylight, he was in his human form again and he was hovering over her as he slid in and out of her slowly. He pinned the hand not clutching Arthur to the bed, and he looked up at Arthur with a wicked smile as he slid his other hand up Arthur's leg. "Sleeping Beauty wakes."
"Shit, I didn't mean to sleep."
"I'd never harm either of you," Eames said, blue eyes locked to Arthur's. "All night I just wanted to fuck you both senseless."
Arthur blinked, certain he heard that wrong. But Eames was shifting position to be on his haunches. He let go of them both to hitch Ariadne's hips up his thighs, then leaned forward to pull Arthur closer by the front of his shirt. Eames kissed him, a filthy kiss with tongue. Arthur could taste Ariadne in his mouth, and licked at it eagerly. He grabbed Eames' shoulder for balance, his other hand reaching down to touch Ariadne's chest. She was mewling beneath Eames, and he could feel her grip tighten on his thigh. She pressed her mouth against it, muffling her cries somewhat.
Ariadne cried out suddenly, fingers digging into Arthur's leg tightly. Eames kept going, just as he kept exploring Arthur's mouth with his lips and tongue. Arthur made a soft noise deep in his throat as Ariadne moved her grip to fondle his crotch as Eames continued to thrust deeply into her. "Don't stop," she was saying, though the words were muffled by Arthur's leg. "Please don't stop, God, this..."
Eames pulled back from Arthur abruptly as his rhythm stuttered. He threw his head back and let out a feral growl as he came, hands tightening on his lovers. It was a moment before he was able to pull out and catch his breath. He eyed Arthur's flushed face and then smiled at Ariadne. "We should help him out, darling. Only fair."
"I thought you hated the idea of sharing," she replied, struggling to get to a seated position. Arthur had to help her, and he was frowning at them both.
"I changed my mind. It's not sharing, really, not if you both belong to me, yeah?"
Arthur lofted an eyebrow at him. "Don't we get a say in this?"
"Fuck no," Eames said, grinning at him unrepentantly. He pulled Arthur forward again and kissed him, trying to unbuckle the rig as he did so. He hissed when his hands brushed against the silver knives, and Ariadne had to unbuckle the straps. She knelt on the bed, sticky and short of breath, but helped manhandle the clothes off of Arthur despite his protests.
Ariadne took Arthur's earlobe between her teeth and ran her hand across his bare chest. The other slid beneath him to cup his ass. "What if we both were making love to you?" she murmured, her breath warm and enticing in his ear. Arthur shuddered between her hands on him and Eames starting to lean in and kiss his chest. "Would that be okay, Arthur?"
"You don't play fair," he moaned, leaning into their touch.
"I'm a horrid influence," Eames agreed, running his tongue over Arthur's flat nipple. "So that's a yes?"
"Y-yes," Arthur said as Eames' hand closed over his erect cock. He made an inarticulate sound when Eames brushed his fingers across the tip. They maneuvered him onto his back, and Eames spread his legs wide to start licking at his balls and perineum. Ariadne took over sucking at his nipples, her own brushing against Arthur's arm. He ran his fingers over her back, his other hand clutching at the sheets. He let out a moan when Ariadne moved down to suck on him as Eames began to trace his rear entrance with his tongue. He bucked his hips when Eames pushed it in a little ways, testing him. Eames grasped his hips tightly, holding him still.
"Fuck, what are you doing?" Arthur gasped when Eames moved and started teasing his hole with a finger. He had slicked it up inside of Ariadne first, teasing her a little, so he was able to slide it easily inside of Arthur up to the first joint. Ariadne sucked a little harder, smiling around his cock when his breath fractured.
"Me, or her?" Eames asked in amusement, starting to push his finger the rest of the way in. Arthur couldn't reply, making Eames laugh. He laughed even harder when his hips twitched and jerked as he stroked the prostate.
Arthur made a gurgling noise, hands clenching and unclenching the sheets. "Gonna... God, gonna..."
Ariadne swallowed it all down when he came, then carefully let him slide out of her mouth. Eames was still smirking down at Arthur's boneless form sprawled across the bed beneath him. "Think we broke him?" he asked, trying to keep from laughing.
She curled up on the bed beside him. "He's okay. He's got us." She looked at Eames, almost wondering why this shift in their relationship didn't feel strange. "We've got each other, right?"
Eames removed his hand and knelt beside them both. "Yeah. I don't think I could've stayed sane last night without you both."
Arthur caught his breath and looked at them both. If there was any vulnerability there, he hid it well. "I'm glad. It would be hard to find another forger as good are."
Ariadne frowned as Eames snorted. "The big question is if you can still go under to dream. We'll have to test that at some point." She shook her head when Eames opened his mouth to speak. "No rush. Better to lay low for a while to be on the safe side."
"I can think of ways to fill up the time," Eames replied with a smirk. Arthur groaned as Ariadne giggled.
While this kind of partnership wasn't anything like what he had planned, it seemed to work. Hanging onto that thought truly had been the only thing that kept him able to think when it had been tempting to let go of everything and simply experience what it would be like as a wolf. He had to believe that it would get easier with time, and that any awkwardness left over would fade. He had to believe that.
The alternative was unthinkable.
"Not Over Yet." Inception/The Sandman, Dream/Ariadne/Arthur/Eames, voyeurism
Eames lasted three days before he wanted to try going under with Arthur and Ariadne. He apparently only changed form on the full moon itself and only until sunrise. He didn't have the same urgency beneath his skin now, no agitation beyond the ordinary restlessness he normally had from staying in one place for far too long. Sex was a wonderful way to pass the time, especially with two other people, though even that wasn't enough to hold his interest at the moment. He couldn't shift on his own the way their former employer had been able to do, and Eames wondered if it was because he was too new at this or because it was a specific skill a werewolf had to learn. It couldn't be too difficult; he was a forger, dammit, and changing his shape was something he was used to doing. It was willpower and knowledge, a trick of the light and mirrors. He was sure he could figure it out as he went along.
He felt a rumble in his gut when he saw Arthur and Ariadne sitting together on the steps of the villa facing the expansive yard. Their heads were bent together, his hand along her spine. It could be perfectly innocent, and he couldn't smell any arousal on either of them. Still, it was driving him up the wall. It wasn't as bad as before the change, when he would have to bite his tongue or fuck Ariadne into oblivion to mark his territory. Arthur was as much his as Ariadne was at this point, truth be told, even if Arthur didn't seem to think so. They were both his, dammit, and he wasn't about to lose either of them, not even to each other.
His hearing was excellent, and he could make out more of their conversation as he approached. "...adjust the formula. If there was anything different in his metabolism or chemistry now, that is," Arthur was saying.
"How are we going to be able to get in touch with him, though? You said there wasn't a phone in his den. That's why Cobb had to go directly to Mombasa to get him."
Oh. Yusuf. They were talking about dreaming again. They were figuring out how he could stay in the business.
Eames made his step more easily heard and they turned to look at him. There was no guilt in their expressions, no hasty removal of hands or shifting of positions. It just added to the fact that they weren't fucking around without him, weren't more interested in each other than in him.
Yes, he was a selfish bastard. But he'd never pretended to be anything other than what he was, and they both knew him well by now.
"So you want to try it?" he said, pasting a smile on his face.
"It might not be safe..."
He brushed off Arthur's concern as the inconvenience it was. "You were worried about the ibuprofen while I was wolf and I was fine. This will be the same."
"Are you sure?" Ariadne warbled.
He thought of those lips wrapped around his cock, about her slender figure bent over the bed so he could take her from behind. Arthur could watch, or maybe join in. Maybe Eames would fuck him after. He was even more insatiable now than he used to be, so it was just as well he had the both of them. Eames wondered if he was wearing them out.
"I'll be fine," Eames replied with a wide grin. If he could contemplate sex while engaging in perfectly neutral conversation, he was more than fine. It was just an extension of who he used to be, after all. He was nothing if not appreciative of either gender and of sex in particular. Anything and everything was good, especially now. He sat beside Ariadne and threw an arm around her shoulders, his hand landing on Arthur's shoulders. "So what shall we dream of, my darlings? The Riviera? The Bahamas?" He grinned even wider, if that was possible, his teeth looking almost impossibly sharp in the sunlight. "You can't get sore in a dream, after all."
"Are you serious?" Arthur asked, irritated. "Are you still thinking about sex?"
Eames licked Ariadne's ear. "You say that as if I've ever stopped."
Arthur snorted and looked out across the field. "You're incorrigible."
"Thank you," he replied, not fazed in the slightest. If anything, it was making him more determined to turn Arthur into a wrecked, gibbering mass of sensitized nerve endings. "So? Any ideas of where you'd like to visit in dreams?"
Ariadne pressed a kiss to the underside of Eames' jaw. "I have a place in mind. I'll be the dreamer, you both can be the subjects."
Eames' eyes were intense. "Then let's start dreaming."
***
Ariadne's dream was a field beside an imposing white castle. The front gate was guarded by a gryphon, a wyvern, and a hippogriff that looked more like a winged horse. She couldn't help but laugh at the stunned faces that Arthur and Eames made at her. "So? Where do you want to go? I used to come here all the time when I was little. The library was the best part when I was a kid. I read all these books that didn't exist and never would, and it was fabulous. Or we can explore the fields. I know there's a lagoon somewhere close, and caves, and ravens... I remember seeing a white raven once."
"This place is amazing," Arthur said, taking it all in. "Is this what limbo looks like?"
She snorted at the inadequate comparison. "Maybe mine? I don't know. Certainly not Cobb's, and not what I would want to spend a lifetime in. But a perpetual afternoon? Why not?"
Eames looked around, taking in the details that she had created within the dream. "This... I'm seeing everything you built, and this is fantastic." He grinned at Arthur suddenly. "And it also means that there is nothing to stop me from continuing to work in dream share. Business is still good, and it's not over yet."
Ariadne took off at a run across the field, feeling the infectious happiness she always used to feel at coming there in her dreams as a child. "Race you!"
The men didn't even think about it. They took off at a run after her.
***
"Yer not gonna like this, Boss," Mervyn Pumpkinhead said, broom hoisted over his shoulder. His cigarette hung low from his pumpkin mouth, eyes as empty as ever. Dream looked up from the chessboard he was contemplating, eyes like stars in his head. Then the moment passed and he sat up, Daniel again. "You've got trespassers on the green."
"Trespassers, Merv? All dreamers may visit here."
"Well, you know." He rolled the cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "These are sort of awake. They didn't just fall asleep. They're machine dreamers, only they're here instead of in their own little parallel world like usual."
"All those worlds are still mine," Daniel replied mildly. He rose, white robes falling soundlessly into place. "I'll talk with these dreamers and see what it is they want."
Mervyn snorted but let him do what he wanted. He was Dream, after all. He was in control of all the Dreaming and everything in it, including rogue lucid dreamers. It wasn't as if he was in charge at the moment anyway.
***
Daniel found them in one of the open fields beyond the castle. He recognized them right away; the girl used to visit all the time when she was young, and his prior aspect had found her awe and fearlessness amusing. The two men had not visited the Dreaming in years because of the way somnacin blocked entry through the gates of dreaming. They could only visit parallel worlds with the somnacin, and the drug made it difficult to perceive the Dreaming in whole. That was why architects were so very necessary for that kind of dreaming. Otherwise it was a formless and pale shadow of the Dreaming, without enough of Dream's power to make it real enough to sustain the dream.
This was the girl's dream, though it was created with somnacin. As the architect, she was able to recreate enough of the detail of her prior natural dreams that there was no barrier between aspects of the Dreaming. She had transported them directly into Dream's realm, and there they were sitting in the field. They were so pleased to be dreaming together, and for a moment Dream felt his Daniel self so keenly; he was an outsider here, not part of their group. He ruled the Dreaming, but these were not subjects under his control.
The broader of the two men had the feel of wolf about him, though it was weak and new. In time he would grow to that aspect of his heritage, Daniel was sure. For right now, he was still more human than wolf. He darted forward to pull the girl into his lap. "Eames!" she squeaked. He kissed her as the other man rolled his eyes at her. "Ariadne, you're just encouraging him right now."
Eames merely grinned at the slender man. "Jealous, Arthur. I've plenty of kisses for you, too."
"Insatiable," Arthur groused, though he did shift his position closer to Eames. He ignored the other man's knowing grin, and Ariadne laid down across both of their laps. She wiggled around playfully, smiling happily up at them. "What are you grinning about?" he said, though the sour tone was belied by the light in his eyes.
Daniel stayed where he was, frozen on the spot as she reached up and traced the curve of his cheek, her thumb rubbing against his lips. "I liked being here as a kid. I'm glad I'm able to share this with the both of you."
There was kissing, and Eames knelt behind Ariadne to press kisses along the back of her neck. He was pulling at her clothes and tickling her, her laughter goading him on. Before long even Arthur had started doing that as well, and each man bent a head down to suckle on a breast. "Hey," Ariadne gasped. "We can do this at the same time, here. It's a dream, right? No need to play along with real world physics. You wouldn't even need to prep me."
Eames raised his head, a wolfish grin on his face. "Oh, I am a corrupting influence on you," he said in a pleased tone of voice. He reached out and slid his hand along the back of Arthur's neck. "There's hope for you yet, then. I'll fuck you senseless and show you how good it can be," he purred.
Arthur's eyes were blown wide with desire, lips parted and moist. Ariadne kissed those lips and shifted so that she was between the two men. Rooted to the spot, the most Daniel could do was make his image shimmer a bit. The floral aspect of his robes would almost blend in with the field, and they might simply think he was glare from the overhead sun. He couldn't stop watching them, couldn't stop wanting to be with them or part of what they had.
Ariadne climbed on top of Arthur and leaned forward enough for Eames to push his way inside her rear entrance. It was a tangle of limbs and teeth and tongues, laughter and awkward touches until they fell into a rhythm that seemed to work. Arthur's head was thrown back at the sensation and Eames had his mouth on the side of Ariadne's neck, sucking a bruise into it. She was mewling and gasping, one hand clutching behind her at Eames and the other holding onto Arthur. With the dream changing the dynamics of sex, they didn't stop rocking or grinding into each other with the first orgasm. If anything, it seemed to start a cascade of pleasure within the three of them, leading Arthur to spit out curses in five languages. Ariadne laughed breathlessly, pulling him close to her. "You did wonder what it would be like to have multiples," she gasped.
"Fuck," Eames said with feeling. "Holy motherfucking fuck, Ariadne," he growled, biting at the sinew of her neck and scraping his fingernails down Arthur's back. "I had no idea it could feel like this. Bless you and your dirty, filthy mind."
Daniel watched as they eventually slowed. Ariadne was whimpering and sore in spots, and ultimately curled on her side to watch Eames push Arthur onto his back. Arthur was slick and wet with Ariadne's juices, and Eames simply pushed into him, his hands on Arthur's slim hips. He arched and howled in response to the entry, writhing in pleasure when Eames unerringly hit his prostate. "God, I can't," Arthur gasped, reaching up to grasp Eames' shoulders. "Too much, I can't hold on..."
"So come, darling," Eames said, his voice a rumbling sound that resembled a growl. "I'm not done with you yet."
Arthur spurted over his abdomen, low whining noises in his throat. Ariadne reached forward and smeared his come into his skin, then grasped his cock and gave gentle tugs on it as she licked and nibbled at his earlobe. "It's a dream," she whispered, voice thick with desire. For a moment, Daniel thought he could see his androgynous sibling shimmering in his realm without invitation. But Desire wasn't truly there, and Arthur was arching and twisting between the two of them, until he came again over Ariadne's hand.
Eames slowed when he was finally spent, and the three of them lay in the grass looking up at the clear blue sky. "So I can still dream," he said softly, wonder in his voice.
"So you can," Arthur said, not looking at him. He was conflicted about how much he had enjoyed Eames' attentions, just as he had been since it had all started on the night of the full moon. Ariadne simply pushed aside her reservations, telling herself it didn't matter as long as the three of them were all okay.
"When it's safe, we'll get back into dream share," Ariadne said, propping herself up on one elbow to look at the two of them. "Until then, we still have this."
Daniel left the field when Ariadne and Eames kissed, their hands stroking Arthur's chest. He had been an intrusion enough as it was. They would leave, and they might or might not return. He wouldn't bar their way if they did, especially not if all they wanted was time together.
Mervyn removed his cigarette and leaned on his push broom as Daniel came back into the parlor, a slight flush to his cheeks. "You okay, Boss? You tell them trespassers what for?"
"They aren't trespassers," Daniel corrected mildly, sitting down in front of his chessboard. The pieces were brass and onyx, and one brass bishop was missing. He looked up at Mervyn's disbelieving expression. "They are welcome here anytime."
Muttering under his breath, Mervyn went off to do his duties. He left Daniel to contemplate the chessboard and its missing piece.
"Pushing The Envelope." Inception/White Collar, Ariadne/Neal Caffrey, scarf, underhanded
If there was a surefire way to piss off both Eames and Arthur at the same time, this current job was it.
Their employer for this particular job was one Elizabeth Burke; apparently she thought something was odd about Neal Caffrey, who was working with her husband. Peter Burke was convinced that he knew Neal inside and out, and was secure in the knowledge that he could pull whatever strings he could at the FBI to control the former art thief. Elizabeth wasn't sure about that, and she was one that trusted her instincts implicitly. That had allowed her to marry Peter after a relatively short courtship and it was what allowed her to trust Neal and Mozzie. There was something off about those two, moreso Neal. It was as if there was something warring in him, something he was hiding but wanted to desperately to say. He had acted that way before, and it had led to a whole world of hurt that Elizabeth wouldn't elaborate on.
Ariadne suspected that she was more than half in love with Neal herself, though Eames stated that he couldn't smell any other man on Elizabeth but her husband. Arthur pretended not to hear the comment.
There wasn't going to be a good way to get Neal under with a PASIV through the usual channels; his landlady was more than aware of shady deals and people, and would be able to tell that there was something wrong right off the bat if they simply drugged him. Neal was tracked by federal marshals and couldn't leave his radius unless it was with Peter Burke's express permission or to go to his home. That raised Eames' eyebrows, but he remained silent this time.
Separately, Ariadne figured the easiest way to get to Neal was through his ego. He was a romantic at heart, often using his charm to superficially flirt. "Rather like you," Ariadne told Eames brightly, which didn't make him feel good at all. Arthur glowered at Ariadne and the files on Neal Caffrey equally, sometimes muttering to himself about how lotharios always seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.
Still, it was the cleanest way to get to him within his radius. Between Eames and Arthur's skills, Ariadne became Lara Higgins, an art smuggler looking for a local fence or two now that it wasn't safe for her in Atlanta. To Arthur's surprise, she could do a Southern drawl with little difficulty. "I wonder what else that tongue does?" Eames teased, reaching for her.
Hair dyed black, Ariadne danced out of his reach. By the flare of his nose, she could tell that he could smell her and it was turning him on. "Oh, there's still tricks up my sleeve, Eames. Just you wait until I'm ready to show you."
They had to wait until they got a delivery from Yusuf, a compound that could be slipped into any drink and would lower inhibitions for a time before the sedative effects overwhelmed the subject ingesting it. Eames trained Ariadne with sugar, and once she could slip extra sugar into Arthur's tea unnoticed, he declared her ready. And then she was Lara, meeting Neal through a mutual acquaintance that Mozzie couldn't discount. "I haven't heard of you," Neal told her, flashing her an impish smile. He had Eames' charm and Arthur's love of tailored suits, which was a dangerous combination. In addition, his smile could turn dazzling in an instant and he had dimples just like Arthur did.
This man was devastating and just her type.
Lara smiled graciously at him. "You're not supposed to have heard of me. At least, not this name."
He grinned in response and inclined his head slightly. He tugged at the bright floral scarf at her throat, the one concession to her actual identity. "This is a rather idiosyncratic item. It makes you stand out in a crowd."
Lara leaned back slightly in her seat at the bar, lips curling in a seductive smile. "I prefer to think it confers taste. How else can I assure people I have quality items if they can't actually see them in person?"
Neal leaned in slightly. "Didn't anyone tell you that you can only judge things by seeing them?"
She let her hand fall onto his thigh, high up and close to his hip, her fingers tantalizingly close to his groin but not touching. "Oh, there are plenty of things you can judge without seeing them up close and personal." Her voice was low and husky, a throaty sound that promised at sex guaranteed to leave him boneless and aching.
There was a flicker in his eyes, something like uncertainty. It more closely resembled the look in Arthur's eyes before he followed her into the PASIV, before he let go of his reservations by saying it was simply a dream and not real. There was someone else there, though Elizabeth had stated he was single. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Neal?" she asked, letting her eyes travel across his body. She let her appreciation show, and that seemed to give Neal pause.
"No. I suppose I thought that this was just a business transaction."
"Well..." She flashed him a flirty smile. "Who's to say this can't be of mutual benefit?"
Neal smiled, looking more suave and in control. He'd decided, then. "Do you have a place?"
"A hotel room. Nothing flashy, I'm afraid." She licked her lips and smiled, especially when his eyes tracked the movement of her tongue. "But it serves its purpose. You might like it."
"Do you always get what you want?" he asked with a slow smile, pulling her forward by her scarf. Their mouths were mere inches apart. "Not everyone does."
"I don't either," she said, lips quirking into a smile. "But maybe in this, we can both get what we want?"
Neal slid his hands beneath the scarf, touching her bare skin. "And what do you want, Lara?"
"Care to show a girl a good time?" she asked, leaning into his touch a little and smiling at him. She smiled at him as if he was Eames or Arthur, as if she knew a delicious secret that they didn't and she would tell them if only they behaved nicely. That seemed to do the trick, and Neal allowed her to bring him to her hotel. They had gotten two rooms adjoining each other, and she knew that her men would be waiting for her to open the connecting door. Ariadne kissed him right away, feeling as though it was Arthur's mouth with Eames' attitude kissing her.
Ariadne wasn't willing to cross the line, even if Lara would have. He accepted the drink she offered him with a smile, and the tasteless compound Yusuf had sent them dissolved perfectly into the drink. She sipped at her own, eyes dancing as she took in the sleek lines of his shoulders once he took off his jacket. He looked at home in the hotel room, perfectly at ease despite not really knowing Lara or being able to trust her. It had to be working. "So what's the diciest thing you've ever sold?" she asked, putting her drink aside. She leaned in and began nibbling on his earlobe.
"Is this your idea of pillow talk?" he asked, eyebrow lofted and lips quirked.
"Isn't it yours?" she teased, pressing her chest up against his. "Mmm. Very nice," she purred, spreading his hands over her chest. "Perhaps I should try to sell you? You are a complete work of art."
Neal laughed, amused. "You are a piece of work, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically.
She undid his tie and tossed it behind her before attacking the buttons on his shirt. "Perhaps," she said, curling her lips into a smile. "Isn't that a good thing?"
Whatever Neal was going to say was cut off when Ariadne pressed her mouth to his chest and started sucking. When his hands pulled at her blouse and slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, she knew for sure that the compound had kicked in. Yusuf hadn't been kidding when he said it was fast acting. She pushed his shirt back and he took it off. Neal started undoing his belt and Ariadne got him naked before pushing him down on the bed. "You still haven't answered my question," she taunted, unwinding her scarf from her neck. She wound it around his eyes, letting him caress her through her blouse.
Neal laughed. "Well, there were a lot of things that I found out about recently. I wasn't in on the haul, but since it was done by someone I know, he decided to cut me in on it. It might not be safe to sell them, though, not without getting caught." There was a lost tone in his voice, something that had Ariadne frowning, glad he couldn't see it.
"You haven't told many people about this, have you?"
"I'm not supposed to know it exists." He rubbed her nipples through her blouse and bra, gratified when he heard her moan of pleasure. "And I don't know what to do with it." He grinned when her hands traveled down his chest. "What about you?"
"Oh, there was a Renoir that actually was a fake. My client didn't know that," Ariadne said, bending down to run her tongue along his collarbone. "So I was actually very lucky." She smiled against his chest and let her hand travel down his abdomen. Neal made a soft sound, and she licked the skin. "I take it you like that?"
"You are a very dangerous lady, Lara."
"To some, maybe," she drawled, closing her hand over his growing erection.
"What about me?" he asked, arching into her touch. His hand dipped down to caress the curve of her rear through her clothes. "You're not undressed yet."
There was a slight slurring to his words, something that she was looking for. Ariadne let her hand slide over him, palm growing moist with the fluid beginning to leak from his cock. "You're safe from me, Neal," Ariadne murmured, running her tongue along his chest. It was a very nice chest, and this part wasn't exactly a hardship. "Does this feel good?" she asked, hearing him groan.
"Y-yeah. M-more," he ground out, his hand tightening on her ass. "I wanna be inside you. I want to start hard and fast, then slow down and take my time with you. I never get enough time..."
Ariadne felt sorry for him, for the lost sound that was back in his voice. She could see now why Elizabeth was hoping they wouldn't find anything to hang him with, why she would try a route like this rather than let Peter dig around in his life any further. As she moved to kiss Neal, she pumped her hand hard and fast over him, tips of her fingers stroking his balls on her down stroke. "This will give us enough time," she murmured, moving to kiss his jaw. "This will get you ready for later, I promise."
Neal hung onto her and kissed her as if his life depended on it, hips jerking against her hand. He let out a groan as he came, spilling over her hand an abdomen before collapsing back down on the bed. "That was embarrassingly quick," he muttered, voice getting even more slurred. His jaw was slack, and he seemed to be falling asleep.
"Don't worry, Neal," she murmured, giving him a few strokes to help him come down from the orgasm. "I'll take care of you."
By the time she finished cleaning him up, he was deeply asleep. She let in Eames and Arthur, ignoring their frowns. "I only jerked him off," she hissed angrily when Eames hovered over her, almost intimidatingly. "I didn't sleep with him."
"Bad enough it went that far," he growled, then turned toward Neal. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in putting the line in, and Arthur merely shot Ariadne a look that meant they were all in for a discussion later.
The two men went under with Neal, and Ariadne was left to watch over them. She untied her scarf from Neal's face and traced the lines of his cheek and jaw. He looked innocent in his sleep, making her almost sorry they were doing this. Whatever Eames and Arthur found, they would take to Elizabeth Burke, and then she would have to decide what to do with it. That Neal didn't even know what to do with his own secrets had to be a point in his favor. He was too conflicted, torn between what he wanted and didn't think he could have.
She knew the feeling very well by now.
Ariadne sat at the foot of the bed, watching over the three sleeping men. She would go home with two of them, and somehow they would figure out what would come next. Unlike Neal, she wasn't conflicted in the least about what she wanted.
***
When Neal woke, he was alone in an immaculate hotel room. There was the scarf on the bedside table and a note beneath it. His head hurt and he didn't actually remember very much, which wasn't like him at all. The writing was in a slanted, feminine hand he didn't recognize. Neal, sorry I couldn't stay. It turns out that NYC isn't safe for me after all. I hope everything works out for you. Take care, Lara.
It didn't quite hurt the way he thought it might, and Neal picked up the scarf she had left behind. For some reason, it just made him infinitely sad. He didn't want to be on the run anymore, didn't want to hide. He never got enough time for what he wanted, but he didn't know how to get it. Somehow, he had never learned that trick.
Neal tucked the scarf into the pocket of his suit jacket as he got dressed. He left the room without a backward glance.
"Paradigm Shift." Ariadne/Arthur/Eames, paradox
Arthur was sitting at his computer waiting for one of his contacts to get back to him. Ariadne sketched vague things in a notebook, waiting for the sun to come up. Eames had been a little more agitated going into this particular full moon, so he hadn't felt safe near them, even chained up. Instead, he locked himself into the basement of the house they were currently staying in. It was stone lined and had a heavy door, plus Arthur had shoved a heavy cabinet in front of the door at Eames' request. When the sun came up, Arthur would move it and they would help Eames clean up.
Some of the sketches Ariadne was going through looked like various optical illusions, reversible figures and paradoxes. It was hard to translate the sketches into three dimensional maps, but she could already picture it in her head. Arthur looked over at her notebook and then at the clock. "Sunrise is coming soon."
She nodded, looking up. "Anything yet?" She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently when he shook his head. "Should I start another pot of coffee?"
"He'll hate that we're still up this late."
"He'd also hate it if we slept through this, so he'll have to deal with it. I'll make more coffee."
They were exhausted by the time sunrise came around, and Arthur waited another half hour just to be sure that Eames would have transformed back from a wolf to human form. Eames was sitting on the basement steps when he opened the door, sticky with sweat and smears of blood. "I'm surprised the two of you didn't fuck while I was a wolf." There was a hard edge to his voice as he pulled himself up to a standing position. "Or were you hoping one day I'd do the two of you as a wolf?"
"If you're looking for me to punch you in the mouth, you're going to have to try harder," Arthur snapped. He threw the basement door the rest of the way open, and it banged sharply into the wall. "Ariadne's running you a bath. I'm in no mood for your shit right now and she's ready to fall over. We're just as exhausted as you are, asshole."
Eames caught Arthur's arm when he got to the top of the stairs. "I told you not to stay up."
"Did you really think we could sleep?" Arthur asked, voice even and eyes frosty. "Did you think we cared so little?"
Eames was silent as he went to the bathroom to soak in the tub. Ariadne had thrown epsom salts into the water, as well as lavender scented oils. "Smells better than blood," she offered with a shrug when he lofted an eyebrow in her direction. He thanked her as he sank into the water. It was a shade too hot and everything stung. Ariadne looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and a drawn expression on her face. She caught his look of concern and picked up her notebook. "I'm fine," she huffed, then went into the bedroom to continue sketching.
They were both asleep by the time he left the bathroom. The water had cooled and he was feeling vaguely human again. Arthur was on his side of the bed, still dressed from the day before. His laptop was on the bedside table, still powered up and with a dozen different programs running. Ariadne was sprawled across half of the remaining space, and she had changed into some kind of pajama suit with little flowers on it. The suit was new, and still smelled like soap and the store she had bought it in. Eames looked at the sketches she had made, trying to make sense of them. His eyes hurt after a while, trying to trace the lines and see what the hell she had drawn. He had no idea what it would look like in a dream, if this was some of that paradoxical architecture that Arthur kept talking about. Arthur liked puzzles, liked things complicated and messy only if he was able to make it neat and coherent.
It occurred to Eames that the two of them had bent over backward for him in the past two months. They were doing whatever they could to stick by him, even trying this kind of a relationship since it seemed to help keep his balance mentally. There had to be things that they wanted before, jobs they found interesting or places they wanted to visit. Now they were irrevocably tied to him, and he hadn't even noticed.
Feeling almost chastised, he let them sleep in peace.
***
It was late afternoon when Arthur actually woke, and he at least felt less fuzzy-headed. He checked his computer as soon as he realized that he was alone in bed. There were three messages wanting responses immediately, one that was utterly useless and two that might pan out for the job if he kept looking into it. That was promising, at least.
Ariadne's notebook and pencils had fallen to the floor, and Arthur didn't see any new sketches in them. There was a slight noise from down the hallway, and then laughter. He followed it, and saw Eames and Ariadne sitting on the floor in pajamas with children's building blocks. She was trying to demonstrate various architectural design elements, and was trying to illustrate why paradoxical architecture could never work outside of dreams. Ariadne had him try building something again, and it all came tumbling down. It made them both laugh, and Eames shook his head. "Still not my thing, darling. But I'm glad it's something you enjoy."
She caught sight of Arthur in the hallway, not quite entering the room. "Hey, you're up."
"We figured you needed the sleep," Eames drawled, not quite turning his head. He continued to build something, a massive block tower with an overhang that looked ready to fall though it never did. "I haven't been doing either of you any favors, so the least I could do was let you sleep."
Arthur frowned, as if Eames had just said something puzzling, and Eames had to hold back the urge to just kiss the man silly. What did he want? Statements of undying love? That was more Ariadne's thing than Arthur's. He would rather puzzle things out on his own and then confirm his conclusions. Arthur would have to figure out what Eames meant on his own.
"There's work to be done," Arthur said finally. Work was always a safe topic. It was easy and neutral, and wasn't anything like the emotional minefield between the three of them. "We should be able to get started by next week, I think. It'll be a job that requires long preparation time to get to the subject safely. It might even be easier if you forge someone."
Eames smiled, the edges of his smile sharp with anticipation. "Can't wait, then."
Ariadne looked over the block building with a critical eye. "Not bad," she commented with a nod. "Maybe you're getting the idea after all."
"Better late than never," Eames replied, knowing the words meant more than Ariadne thought they did.
***
Kissing Ariadne was capturing lightning in a bottle. Kissing Arthur was breaking stone walls with a pickaxe. Ariadne gave herself over to his touch easily, but she had feelings for him before he had turned. Eames had to work for every bit of Arthur's attention, breaking down his resistance bit by bit. That he loved Ariadne was obvious, and she cared for him back. He had liked Arthur before, but it had changed somewhat. Mostly because of the raging agitation that came with the change, but now he saw past the professional armor a bit. He liked what he saw. Eames couldn't be sure what Arthur saw in him, if anything at all.
The three of them were naked in bed, a tangle of limbs and mouths and tongues. Eames was mouthing one of Ariadne's breasts, fondling the other as he sprawled across the bed. Arthur was kneeling beside him, lubed fingers pushing into him at a steady pace. Ariadne had Arthur's thigh caught between her legs, and it was holding a vibrator in place inside of her. All Eames could hear was Ariadne's whimpers and moans and Arthur's harsh breathing. He was silent, drinking them in, feeling everything as if for the first time.
Ariadne was starting to writhe beneath his mouth and hand, approaching orgasm growing overwhelming. It was her third so far, and Eames' record was nine so far. Sometimes it was work, at other times she was already primed and almost ready to go. The toy was probably cheating, but he didn't usually think so.
Arthur removed his fingers, and Eames made a disappointed sound around Ariadne's breast. Her cries as she came muffled Eames' grunt of surprise as Arthur pushed his cock into Eames. He lifted his head and turned to look at Arthur in surprise. The other man had never seemed terribly interested in receiving or reciprocating all of Eames' interest in real life. Dreams were a different story, since Arthur could always dismiss it as something that wasn't real. There was no way to dismiss this. "What...?"
A sharp thrust cut off Eames' words as he made a high pitched whining sound. Arthur smirked at him. "Let's just say you're not the only one able to do this."
Eames groaned as Arthur set a punishing rhythm. He pulled Ariadne close for a kiss on the mouth, their tongues twisting and dueling as Eames fought to keep from coming right away. Ariadne grasped Eames' arms tightly, fingers digging in as she approached another orgasm. She broke the kiss and let out a strangled groan before finally shifting her hips. She pulled the vibrator out and shut it off, whimpering "Too much, too much."
Curling on her side, Ariadne ran a hand along Arthur's thigh as he pumped hard and fast into Eames. She pressed her lips to Eames's shoulder and neck, not quite kisses. Her other hand slid along his chest. I love you, she mouthed against his skin, not even using her voice. She didn't have to. He knew it anyway, ever since she had pushed aside her misgivings about him as a wolf. Only a woman in love would do something like that. Anyone else would have run screaming in the opposite direction and not look back.
Ariadne moved slightly so that her hand traced the ridges of muscle in his abdomen, then closed her hand around his cock. A few sharp pulls and he was spilling over her hand. Eames' entire body clenched tight, which was enough to make Arthur lose control and come.
This was a smaller house, and they had to take turns washing up in the bathroom. "Why now?" Eames asked Arthur.
"You're not the only one capable of making changes," Arthur replied slowly. It was almost as if he was waking from a dream. "Maybe you matter to me, too, asshole," Arthur continued when Eames was silent. "It doesn't have to be just about you."
Eames pulled him close and kissed him, licking deep into his mouth and holding the back of his neck tightly so he couldn't get away. "You matter to me, too."
Ariadne climbed back into bed after pulling on one of Eames' discarded T shirts. She kissed the back of Eames' neck and then Arthur's cheek. "And you both matter to me," she added simply. "Sleep now?"
Eames smiled as Arthur nodded. Whatever this was between the three of them, it seemed to be working. He wasn't about to be an idiot and question his good fortune.
None of these were beta’ed. These are all Inception ficlets, in the Show Me Your Teeth series. I still don't know why I put them in the same 'verse, BUT WHY NOT? Smut with these three is always pretty. :D
"After The Change." Inception - Ariadne/Arthur/Eames, partnership
Ariadne and Arthur hauled Eames into the biggest bathtub they could find in the villa. Eames' transformation into a werewolf the night before had been brutal, leaving him screaming for hours before it had turned into howling instead. When the thrashing and writhing had stopped, Ariadne sneaked into the room to comb her fingers through the fur on his body. He was a large wolf, and she had carefully avoided his muzzle, just in case he couldn't remember who she was. His fur was a golden color, darker than his hair had been, and his eyes were that feverishly bright blue that his eyes had started becoming. He let out a soft whine as Arthur strode into the room, jaws tight in worry and concern. Those blue eyes swung between the two of them, and there had been a startling kind of knowledge in them, as if he hadn't actually lost who he was in the transformation.
"Does it hurt?" Ariadne had whispered.
Eames the wolf nodded, and Arthur's mouth fell open. "Jesus."
"Do we know anything about what could help? Arthur? You're the one that does the research..." Ariadne began.
Arthur sputtered slightly. "Everything is myth. There's no way to tell what's accurate or not, and we don't know who else might know what's the truth about this situation." He frowned when Eames whined again. "If you're willing, we can see if alcohol works, or pain medication. It works with dogs, but I don't know enough about wolf physiology, let alone werewolf physiology."
Eames seemed to be willing to try anything, so they washed down the extra strength ibuprofen with as much water and juice that he would allow. He licked Ariadne's hand, eyes softer than before now that the change was complete. It had been hell on him, but apparently now the agitation was gone.
"We should undo the chains," she murmured, stroking the fur. It was soft, feeling just like Eames' hair did. "He won't hurt us."
Though Arthur wasn't entirely pleased with that plan, he agreed and started undoing the chains around Eames' ankles. When Eames didn't kick or lunge at them, he carefully undid the chains around his wrists. Eames was too exhausted to really move, which is how Ariadne and Arthur teamed up to drag Eames into the bathroom. The water in the tub was warm and not very deep. It was more to try to soothe him, to see if that would help ease whatever pain might be left from the transition. Eames whined when Arthur stepped back, and the point man frowned at Ariadne. "We both need to help," she said quietly, kneeling beside the tub. Eames nuzzled her arm and closed his teeth around the bathrobe she had put on to preserve her modesty. He tugged sharply, and Ariadne let out a bit of nervous laughter. "Come on, Arthur. I can't do this by myself."
With a sigh, Arthur knelt beside the tub as well. "How did I get dragged into this? It was supposed to be a straightforward extraction that would net us a tidy little nest egg. I was supposed to be able to pick and choose whatever jobs we were going to do. God only knows what mess Eames would have gotten us into if he was left in charge of this enterprise."
Ariadne looked at him, a fond smile on her face. "So you're still planning to work together in the future? The three of us? Even after all this?"
Arthur had to turn away from her after a moment, though he couldn't meet Eames' too-knowing eyes either. "I can't leave the two of you to fend for yourselves. Eames is going to do something else phenomenally stupid, and I don't want that on my watch."
Eames made a snuffling noise that might have been laughter, which was a bit disconcerting. Ariadne smiled and kissed Arthur's cheek, glad that their work relationship wouldn't necessarily change just because everything else was so mixed up.
The bedroom where Eames had shifted was a mess of fluids and blood. Arthur pulled a face at the sight of it, sighing. "We'll just torch it and replace the furniture." Eames made that snuffling noise again, and Ariadne toweled him off with whatever towels and sheets she had brought with her from the bathroom. They wound up going to another bedroom. Eames seemed in control of himself, though Arthur clearly didn't like the way Eames kept licking his teeth and muzzle and looking at them. He remembered their former employer's rapid shift and immediate attack, and he silently told himself that he would kill Eames rather than risk Ariadne's safety. While she was nervous, she felt safe enough to curl up on a different bed with Eames. Arthur sat stiffly beside them, intending to stay awake the rest of the night.
He fell asleep, waking up abruptly at the feel of a hand clutching desperately at his thigh. He had dressed during Eames' change, including his shoulder rig and Glock. He had found silverware in the house that was actually silver, and he had put three knives into he holster as well. He would worry about his Glock later, if it turned out to be an unnecessary precaution.
Arthur blinked rapidly to shake the cobwebs from his brain. It was Ariadne's hand around his thigh, and she was gasping in pleasure, arching beneath Eames. It was daylight, he was in his human form again and he was hovering over her as he slid in and out of her slowly. He pinned the hand not clutching Arthur to the bed, and he looked up at Arthur with a wicked smile as he slid his other hand up Arthur's leg. "Sleeping Beauty wakes."
"Shit, I didn't mean to sleep."
"I'd never harm either of you," Eames said, blue eyes locked to Arthur's. "All night I just wanted to fuck you both senseless."
Arthur blinked, certain he heard that wrong. But Eames was shifting position to be on his haunches. He let go of them both to hitch Ariadne's hips up his thighs, then leaned forward to pull Arthur closer by the front of his shirt. Eames kissed him, a filthy kiss with tongue. Arthur could taste Ariadne in his mouth, and licked at it eagerly. He grabbed Eames' shoulder for balance, his other hand reaching down to touch Ariadne's chest. She was mewling beneath Eames, and he could feel her grip tighten on his thigh. She pressed her mouth against it, muffling her cries somewhat.
Ariadne cried out suddenly, fingers digging into Arthur's leg tightly. Eames kept going, just as he kept exploring Arthur's mouth with his lips and tongue. Arthur made a soft noise deep in his throat as Ariadne moved her grip to fondle his crotch as Eames continued to thrust deeply into her. "Don't stop," she was saying, though the words were muffled by Arthur's leg. "Please don't stop, God, this..."
Eames pulled back from Arthur abruptly as his rhythm stuttered. He threw his head back and let out a feral growl as he came, hands tightening on his lovers. It was a moment before he was able to pull out and catch his breath. He eyed Arthur's flushed face and then smiled at Ariadne. "We should help him out, darling. Only fair."
"I thought you hated the idea of sharing," she replied, struggling to get to a seated position. Arthur had to help her, and he was frowning at them both.
"I changed my mind. It's not sharing, really, not if you both belong to me, yeah?"
Arthur lofted an eyebrow at him. "Don't we get a say in this?"
"Fuck no," Eames said, grinning at him unrepentantly. He pulled Arthur forward again and kissed him, trying to unbuckle the rig as he did so. He hissed when his hands brushed against the silver knives, and Ariadne had to unbuckle the straps. She knelt on the bed, sticky and short of breath, but helped manhandle the clothes off of Arthur despite his protests.
Ariadne took Arthur's earlobe between her teeth and ran her hand across his bare chest. The other slid beneath him to cup his ass. "What if we both were making love to you?" she murmured, her breath warm and enticing in his ear. Arthur shuddered between her hands on him and Eames starting to lean in and kiss his chest. "Would that be okay, Arthur?"
"You don't play fair," he moaned, leaning into their touch.
"I'm a horrid influence," Eames agreed, running his tongue over Arthur's flat nipple. "So that's a yes?"
"Y-yes," Arthur said as Eames' hand closed over his erect cock. He made an inarticulate sound when Eames brushed his fingers across the tip. They maneuvered him onto his back, and Eames spread his legs wide to start licking at his balls and perineum. Ariadne took over sucking at his nipples, her own brushing against Arthur's arm. He ran his fingers over her back, his other hand clutching at the sheets. He let out a moan when Ariadne moved down to suck on him as Eames began to trace his rear entrance with his tongue. He bucked his hips when Eames pushed it in a little ways, testing him. Eames grasped his hips tightly, holding him still.
"Fuck, what are you doing?" Arthur gasped when Eames moved and started teasing his hole with a finger. He had slicked it up inside of Ariadne first, teasing her a little, so he was able to slide it easily inside of Arthur up to the first joint. Ariadne sucked a little harder, smiling around his cock when his breath fractured.
"Me, or her?" Eames asked in amusement, starting to push his finger the rest of the way in. Arthur couldn't reply, making Eames laugh. He laughed even harder when his hips twitched and jerked as he stroked the prostate.
Arthur made a gurgling noise, hands clenching and unclenching the sheets. "Gonna... God, gonna..."
Ariadne swallowed it all down when he came, then carefully let him slide out of her mouth. Eames was still smirking down at Arthur's boneless form sprawled across the bed beneath him. "Think we broke him?" he asked, trying to keep from laughing.
She curled up on the bed beside him. "He's okay. He's got us." She looked at Eames, almost wondering why this shift in their relationship didn't feel strange. "We've got each other, right?"
Eames removed his hand and knelt beside them both. "Yeah. I don't think I could've stayed sane last night without you both."
Arthur caught his breath and looked at them both. If there was any vulnerability there, he hid it well. "I'm glad. It would be hard to find another forger as good are."
Ariadne frowned as Eames snorted. "The big question is if you can still go under to dream. We'll have to test that at some point." She shook her head when Eames opened his mouth to speak. "No rush. Better to lay low for a while to be on the safe side."
"I can think of ways to fill up the time," Eames replied with a smirk. Arthur groaned as Ariadne giggled.
While this kind of partnership wasn't anything like what he had planned, it seemed to work. Hanging onto that thought truly had been the only thing that kept him able to think when it had been tempting to let go of everything and simply experience what it would be like as a wolf. He had to believe that it would get easier with time, and that any awkwardness left over would fade. He had to believe that.
The alternative was unthinkable.
"Not Over Yet." Inception/The Sandman, Dream/Ariadne/Arthur/Eames, voyeurism
Eames lasted three days before he wanted to try going under with Arthur and Ariadne. He apparently only changed form on the full moon itself and only until sunrise. He didn't have the same urgency beneath his skin now, no agitation beyond the ordinary restlessness he normally had from staying in one place for far too long. Sex was a wonderful way to pass the time, especially with two other people, though even that wasn't enough to hold his interest at the moment. He couldn't shift on his own the way their former employer had been able to do, and Eames wondered if it was because he was too new at this or because it was a specific skill a werewolf had to learn. It couldn't be too difficult; he was a forger, dammit, and changing his shape was something he was used to doing. It was willpower and knowledge, a trick of the light and mirrors. He was sure he could figure it out as he went along.
He felt a rumble in his gut when he saw Arthur and Ariadne sitting together on the steps of the villa facing the expansive yard. Their heads were bent together, his hand along her spine. It could be perfectly innocent, and he couldn't smell any arousal on either of them. Still, it was driving him up the wall. It wasn't as bad as before the change, when he would have to bite his tongue or fuck Ariadne into oblivion to mark his territory. Arthur was as much his as Ariadne was at this point, truth be told, even if Arthur didn't seem to think so. They were both his, dammit, and he wasn't about to lose either of them, not even to each other.
His hearing was excellent, and he could make out more of their conversation as he approached. "...adjust the formula. If there was anything different in his metabolism or chemistry now, that is," Arthur was saying.
"How are we going to be able to get in touch with him, though? You said there wasn't a phone in his den. That's why Cobb had to go directly to Mombasa to get him."
Oh. Yusuf. They were talking about dreaming again. They were figuring out how he could stay in the business.
Eames made his step more easily heard and they turned to look at him. There was no guilt in their expressions, no hasty removal of hands or shifting of positions. It just added to the fact that they weren't fucking around without him, weren't more interested in each other than in him.
Yes, he was a selfish bastard. But he'd never pretended to be anything other than what he was, and they both knew him well by now.
"So you want to try it?" he said, pasting a smile on his face.
"It might not be safe..."
He brushed off Arthur's concern as the inconvenience it was. "You were worried about the ibuprofen while I was wolf and I was fine. This will be the same."
"Are you sure?" Ariadne warbled.
He thought of those lips wrapped around his cock, about her slender figure bent over the bed so he could take her from behind. Arthur could watch, or maybe join in. Maybe Eames would fuck him after. He was even more insatiable now than he used to be, so it was just as well he had the both of them. Eames wondered if he was wearing them out.
"I'll be fine," Eames replied with a wide grin. If he could contemplate sex while engaging in perfectly neutral conversation, he was more than fine. It was just an extension of who he used to be, after all. He was nothing if not appreciative of either gender and of sex in particular. Anything and everything was good, especially now. He sat beside Ariadne and threw an arm around her shoulders, his hand landing on Arthur's shoulders. "So what shall we dream of, my darlings? The Riviera? The Bahamas?" He grinned even wider, if that was possible, his teeth looking almost impossibly sharp in the sunlight. "You can't get sore in a dream, after all."
"Are you serious?" Arthur asked, irritated. "Are you still thinking about sex?"
Eames licked Ariadne's ear. "You say that as if I've ever stopped."
Arthur snorted and looked out across the field. "You're incorrigible."
"Thank you," he replied, not fazed in the slightest. If anything, it was making him more determined to turn Arthur into a wrecked, gibbering mass of sensitized nerve endings. "So? Any ideas of where you'd like to visit in dreams?"
Ariadne pressed a kiss to the underside of Eames' jaw. "I have a place in mind. I'll be the dreamer, you both can be the subjects."
Eames' eyes were intense. "Then let's start dreaming."
***
Ariadne's dream was a field beside an imposing white castle. The front gate was guarded by a gryphon, a wyvern, and a hippogriff that looked more like a winged horse. She couldn't help but laugh at the stunned faces that Arthur and Eames made at her. "So? Where do you want to go? I used to come here all the time when I was little. The library was the best part when I was a kid. I read all these books that didn't exist and never would, and it was fabulous. Or we can explore the fields. I know there's a lagoon somewhere close, and caves, and ravens... I remember seeing a white raven once."
"This place is amazing," Arthur said, taking it all in. "Is this what limbo looks like?"
She snorted at the inadequate comparison. "Maybe mine? I don't know. Certainly not Cobb's, and not what I would want to spend a lifetime in. But a perpetual afternoon? Why not?"
Eames looked around, taking in the details that she had created within the dream. "This... I'm seeing everything you built, and this is fantastic." He grinned at Arthur suddenly. "And it also means that there is nothing to stop me from continuing to work in dream share. Business is still good, and it's not over yet."
Ariadne took off at a run across the field, feeling the infectious happiness she always used to feel at coming there in her dreams as a child. "Race you!"
The men didn't even think about it. They took off at a run after her.
***
"Yer not gonna like this, Boss," Mervyn Pumpkinhead said, broom hoisted over his shoulder. His cigarette hung low from his pumpkin mouth, eyes as empty as ever. Dream looked up from the chessboard he was contemplating, eyes like stars in his head. Then the moment passed and he sat up, Daniel again. "You've got trespassers on the green."
"Trespassers, Merv? All dreamers may visit here."
"Well, you know." He rolled the cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "These are sort of awake. They didn't just fall asleep. They're machine dreamers, only they're here instead of in their own little parallel world like usual."
"All those worlds are still mine," Daniel replied mildly. He rose, white robes falling soundlessly into place. "I'll talk with these dreamers and see what it is they want."
Mervyn snorted but let him do what he wanted. He was Dream, after all. He was in control of all the Dreaming and everything in it, including rogue lucid dreamers. It wasn't as if he was in charge at the moment anyway.
***
Daniel found them in one of the open fields beyond the castle. He recognized them right away; the girl used to visit all the time when she was young, and his prior aspect had found her awe and fearlessness amusing. The two men had not visited the Dreaming in years because of the way somnacin blocked entry through the gates of dreaming. They could only visit parallel worlds with the somnacin, and the drug made it difficult to perceive the Dreaming in whole. That was why architects were so very necessary for that kind of dreaming. Otherwise it was a formless and pale shadow of the Dreaming, without enough of Dream's power to make it real enough to sustain the dream.
This was the girl's dream, though it was created with somnacin. As the architect, she was able to recreate enough of the detail of her prior natural dreams that there was no barrier between aspects of the Dreaming. She had transported them directly into Dream's realm, and there they were sitting in the field. They were so pleased to be dreaming together, and for a moment Dream felt his Daniel self so keenly; he was an outsider here, not part of their group. He ruled the Dreaming, but these were not subjects under his control.
The broader of the two men had the feel of wolf about him, though it was weak and new. In time he would grow to that aspect of his heritage, Daniel was sure. For right now, he was still more human than wolf. He darted forward to pull the girl into his lap. "Eames!" she squeaked. He kissed her as the other man rolled his eyes at her. "Ariadne, you're just encouraging him right now."
Eames merely grinned at the slender man. "Jealous, Arthur. I've plenty of kisses for you, too."
"Insatiable," Arthur groused, though he did shift his position closer to Eames. He ignored the other man's knowing grin, and Ariadne laid down across both of their laps. She wiggled around playfully, smiling happily up at them. "What are you grinning about?" he said, though the sour tone was belied by the light in his eyes.
Daniel stayed where he was, frozen on the spot as she reached up and traced the curve of his cheek, her thumb rubbing against his lips. "I liked being here as a kid. I'm glad I'm able to share this with the both of you."
There was kissing, and Eames knelt behind Ariadne to press kisses along the back of her neck. He was pulling at her clothes and tickling her, her laughter goading him on. Before long even Arthur had started doing that as well, and each man bent a head down to suckle on a breast. "Hey," Ariadne gasped. "We can do this at the same time, here. It's a dream, right? No need to play along with real world physics. You wouldn't even need to prep me."
Eames raised his head, a wolfish grin on his face. "Oh, I am a corrupting influence on you," he said in a pleased tone of voice. He reached out and slid his hand along the back of Arthur's neck. "There's hope for you yet, then. I'll fuck you senseless and show you how good it can be," he purred.
Arthur's eyes were blown wide with desire, lips parted and moist. Ariadne kissed those lips and shifted so that she was between the two men. Rooted to the spot, the most Daniel could do was make his image shimmer a bit. The floral aspect of his robes would almost blend in with the field, and they might simply think he was glare from the overhead sun. He couldn't stop watching them, couldn't stop wanting to be with them or part of what they had.
Ariadne climbed on top of Arthur and leaned forward enough for Eames to push his way inside her rear entrance. It was a tangle of limbs and teeth and tongues, laughter and awkward touches until they fell into a rhythm that seemed to work. Arthur's head was thrown back at the sensation and Eames had his mouth on the side of Ariadne's neck, sucking a bruise into it. She was mewling and gasping, one hand clutching behind her at Eames and the other holding onto Arthur. With the dream changing the dynamics of sex, they didn't stop rocking or grinding into each other with the first orgasm. If anything, it seemed to start a cascade of pleasure within the three of them, leading Arthur to spit out curses in five languages. Ariadne laughed breathlessly, pulling him close to her. "You did wonder what it would be like to have multiples," she gasped.
"Fuck," Eames said with feeling. "Holy motherfucking fuck, Ariadne," he growled, biting at the sinew of her neck and scraping his fingernails down Arthur's back. "I had no idea it could feel like this. Bless you and your dirty, filthy mind."
Daniel watched as they eventually slowed. Ariadne was whimpering and sore in spots, and ultimately curled on her side to watch Eames push Arthur onto his back. Arthur was slick and wet with Ariadne's juices, and Eames simply pushed into him, his hands on Arthur's slim hips. He arched and howled in response to the entry, writhing in pleasure when Eames unerringly hit his prostate. "God, I can't," Arthur gasped, reaching up to grasp Eames' shoulders. "Too much, I can't hold on..."
"So come, darling," Eames said, his voice a rumbling sound that resembled a growl. "I'm not done with you yet."
Arthur spurted over his abdomen, low whining noises in his throat. Ariadne reached forward and smeared his come into his skin, then grasped his cock and gave gentle tugs on it as she licked and nibbled at his earlobe. "It's a dream," she whispered, voice thick with desire. For a moment, Daniel thought he could see his androgynous sibling shimmering in his realm without invitation. But Desire wasn't truly there, and Arthur was arching and twisting between the two of them, until he came again over Ariadne's hand.
Eames slowed when he was finally spent, and the three of them lay in the grass looking up at the clear blue sky. "So I can still dream," he said softly, wonder in his voice.
"So you can," Arthur said, not looking at him. He was conflicted about how much he had enjoyed Eames' attentions, just as he had been since it had all started on the night of the full moon. Ariadne simply pushed aside her reservations, telling herself it didn't matter as long as the three of them were all okay.
"When it's safe, we'll get back into dream share," Ariadne said, propping herself up on one elbow to look at the two of them. "Until then, we still have this."
Daniel left the field when Ariadne and Eames kissed, their hands stroking Arthur's chest. He had been an intrusion enough as it was. They would leave, and they might or might not return. He wouldn't bar their way if they did, especially not if all they wanted was time together.
Mervyn removed his cigarette and leaned on his push broom as Daniel came back into the parlor, a slight flush to his cheeks. "You okay, Boss? You tell them trespassers what for?"
"They aren't trespassers," Daniel corrected mildly, sitting down in front of his chessboard. The pieces were brass and onyx, and one brass bishop was missing. He looked up at Mervyn's disbelieving expression. "They are welcome here anytime."
Muttering under his breath, Mervyn went off to do his duties. He left Daniel to contemplate the chessboard and its missing piece.
"Pushing The Envelope." Inception/White Collar, Ariadne/Neal Caffrey, scarf, underhanded
If there was a surefire way to piss off both Eames and Arthur at the same time, this current job was it.
Their employer for this particular job was one Elizabeth Burke; apparently she thought something was odd about Neal Caffrey, who was working with her husband. Peter Burke was convinced that he knew Neal inside and out, and was secure in the knowledge that he could pull whatever strings he could at the FBI to control the former art thief. Elizabeth wasn't sure about that, and she was one that trusted her instincts implicitly. That had allowed her to marry Peter after a relatively short courtship and it was what allowed her to trust Neal and Mozzie. There was something off about those two, moreso Neal. It was as if there was something warring in him, something he was hiding but wanted to desperately to say. He had acted that way before, and it had led to a whole world of hurt that Elizabeth wouldn't elaborate on.
Ariadne suspected that she was more than half in love with Neal herself, though Eames stated that he couldn't smell any other man on Elizabeth but her husband. Arthur pretended not to hear the comment.
There wasn't going to be a good way to get Neal under with a PASIV through the usual channels; his landlady was more than aware of shady deals and people, and would be able to tell that there was something wrong right off the bat if they simply drugged him. Neal was tracked by federal marshals and couldn't leave his radius unless it was with Peter Burke's express permission or to go to his home. That raised Eames' eyebrows, but he remained silent this time.
Separately, Ariadne figured the easiest way to get to Neal was through his ego. He was a romantic at heart, often using his charm to superficially flirt. "Rather like you," Ariadne told Eames brightly, which didn't make him feel good at all. Arthur glowered at Ariadne and the files on Neal Caffrey equally, sometimes muttering to himself about how lotharios always seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.
Still, it was the cleanest way to get to him within his radius. Between Eames and Arthur's skills, Ariadne became Lara Higgins, an art smuggler looking for a local fence or two now that it wasn't safe for her in Atlanta. To Arthur's surprise, she could do a Southern drawl with little difficulty. "I wonder what else that tongue does?" Eames teased, reaching for her.
Hair dyed black, Ariadne danced out of his reach. By the flare of his nose, she could tell that he could smell her and it was turning him on. "Oh, there's still tricks up my sleeve, Eames. Just you wait until I'm ready to show you."
They had to wait until they got a delivery from Yusuf, a compound that could be slipped into any drink and would lower inhibitions for a time before the sedative effects overwhelmed the subject ingesting it. Eames trained Ariadne with sugar, and once she could slip extra sugar into Arthur's tea unnoticed, he declared her ready. And then she was Lara, meeting Neal through a mutual acquaintance that Mozzie couldn't discount. "I haven't heard of you," Neal told her, flashing her an impish smile. He had Eames' charm and Arthur's love of tailored suits, which was a dangerous combination. In addition, his smile could turn dazzling in an instant and he had dimples just like Arthur did.
This man was devastating and just her type.
Lara smiled graciously at him. "You're not supposed to have heard of me. At least, not this name."
He grinned in response and inclined his head slightly. He tugged at the bright floral scarf at her throat, the one concession to her actual identity. "This is a rather idiosyncratic item. It makes you stand out in a crowd."
Lara leaned back slightly in her seat at the bar, lips curling in a seductive smile. "I prefer to think it confers taste. How else can I assure people I have quality items if they can't actually see them in person?"
Neal leaned in slightly. "Didn't anyone tell you that you can only judge things by seeing them?"
She let her hand fall onto his thigh, high up and close to his hip, her fingers tantalizingly close to his groin but not touching. "Oh, there are plenty of things you can judge without seeing them up close and personal." Her voice was low and husky, a throaty sound that promised at sex guaranteed to leave him boneless and aching.
There was a flicker in his eyes, something like uncertainty. It more closely resembled the look in Arthur's eyes before he followed her into the PASIV, before he let go of his reservations by saying it was simply a dream and not real. There was someone else there, though Elizabeth had stated he was single. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Neal?" she asked, letting her eyes travel across his body. She let her appreciation show, and that seemed to give Neal pause.
"No. I suppose I thought that this was just a business transaction."
"Well..." She flashed him a flirty smile. "Who's to say this can't be of mutual benefit?"
Neal smiled, looking more suave and in control. He'd decided, then. "Do you have a place?"
"A hotel room. Nothing flashy, I'm afraid." She licked her lips and smiled, especially when his eyes tracked the movement of her tongue. "But it serves its purpose. You might like it."
"Do you always get what you want?" he asked with a slow smile, pulling her forward by her scarf. Their mouths were mere inches apart. "Not everyone does."
"I don't either," she said, lips quirking into a smile. "But maybe in this, we can both get what we want?"
Neal slid his hands beneath the scarf, touching her bare skin. "And what do you want, Lara?"
"Care to show a girl a good time?" she asked, leaning into his touch a little and smiling at him. She smiled at him as if he was Eames or Arthur, as if she knew a delicious secret that they didn't and she would tell them if only they behaved nicely. That seemed to do the trick, and Neal allowed her to bring him to her hotel. They had gotten two rooms adjoining each other, and she knew that her men would be waiting for her to open the connecting door. Ariadne kissed him right away, feeling as though it was Arthur's mouth with Eames' attitude kissing her.
Ariadne wasn't willing to cross the line, even if Lara would have. He accepted the drink she offered him with a smile, and the tasteless compound Yusuf had sent them dissolved perfectly into the drink. She sipped at her own, eyes dancing as she took in the sleek lines of his shoulders once he took off his jacket. He looked at home in the hotel room, perfectly at ease despite not really knowing Lara or being able to trust her. It had to be working. "So what's the diciest thing you've ever sold?" she asked, putting her drink aside. She leaned in and began nibbling on his earlobe.
"Is this your idea of pillow talk?" he asked, eyebrow lofted and lips quirked.
"Isn't it yours?" she teased, pressing her chest up against his. "Mmm. Very nice," she purred, spreading his hands over her chest. "Perhaps I should try to sell you? You are a complete work of art."
Neal laughed, amused. "You are a piece of work, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically.
She undid his tie and tossed it behind her before attacking the buttons on his shirt. "Perhaps," she said, curling her lips into a smile. "Isn't that a good thing?"
Whatever Neal was going to say was cut off when Ariadne pressed her mouth to his chest and started sucking. When his hands pulled at her blouse and slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, she knew for sure that the compound had kicked in. Yusuf hadn't been kidding when he said it was fast acting. She pushed his shirt back and he took it off. Neal started undoing his belt and Ariadne got him naked before pushing him down on the bed. "You still haven't answered my question," she taunted, unwinding her scarf from her neck. She wound it around his eyes, letting him caress her through her blouse.
Neal laughed. "Well, there were a lot of things that I found out about recently. I wasn't in on the haul, but since it was done by someone I know, he decided to cut me in on it. It might not be safe to sell them, though, not without getting caught." There was a lost tone in his voice, something that had Ariadne frowning, glad he couldn't see it.
"You haven't told many people about this, have you?"
"I'm not supposed to know it exists." He rubbed her nipples through her blouse and bra, gratified when he heard her moan of pleasure. "And I don't know what to do with it." He grinned when her hands traveled down his chest. "What about you?"
"Oh, there was a Renoir that actually was a fake. My client didn't know that," Ariadne said, bending down to run her tongue along his collarbone. "So I was actually very lucky." She smiled against his chest and let her hand travel down his abdomen. Neal made a soft sound, and she licked the skin. "I take it you like that?"
"You are a very dangerous lady, Lara."
"To some, maybe," she drawled, closing her hand over his growing erection.
"What about me?" he asked, arching into her touch. His hand dipped down to caress the curve of her rear through her clothes. "You're not undressed yet."
There was a slight slurring to his words, something that she was looking for. Ariadne let her hand slide over him, palm growing moist with the fluid beginning to leak from his cock. "You're safe from me, Neal," Ariadne murmured, running her tongue along his chest. It was a very nice chest, and this part wasn't exactly a hardship. "Does this feel good?" she asked, hearing him groan.
"Y-yeah. M-more," he ground out, his hand tightening on her ass. "I wanna be inside you. I want to start hard and fast, then slow down and take my time with you. I never get enough time..."
Ariadne felt sorry for him, for the lost sound that was back in his voice. She could see now why Elizabeth was hoping they wouldn't find anything to hang him with, why she would try a route like this rather than let Peter dig around in his life any further. As she moved to kiss Neal, she pumped her hand hard and fast over him, tips of her fingers stroking his balls on her down stroke. "This will give us enough time," she murmured, moving to kiss his jaw. "This will get you ready for later, I promise."
Neal hung onto her and kissed her as if his life depended on it, hips jerking against her hand. He let out a groan as he came, spilling over her hand an abdomen before collapsing back down on the bed. "That was embarrassingly quick," he muttered, voice getting even more slurred. His jaw was slack, and he seemed to be falling asleep.
"Don't worry, Neal," she murmured, giving him a few strokes to help him come down from the orgasm. "I'll take care of you."
By the time she finished cleaning him up, he was deeply asleep. She let in Eames and Arthur, ignoring their frowns. "I only jerked him off," she hissed angrily when Eames hovered over her, almost intimidatingly. "I didn't sleep with him."
"Bad enough it went that far," he growled, then turned toward Neal. He seemed to take perverse pleasure in putting the line in, and Arthur merely shot Ariadne a look that meant they were all in for a discussion later.
The two men went under with Neal, and Ariadne was left to watch over them. She untied her scarf from Neal's face and traced the lines of his cheek and jaw. He looked innocent in his sleep, making her almost sorry they were doing this. Whatever Eames and Arthur found, they would take to Elizabeth Burke, and then she would have to decide what to do with it. That Neal didn't even know what to do with his own secrets had to be a point in his favor. He was too conflicted, torn between what he wanted and didn't think he could have.
She knew the feeling very well by now.
Ariadne sat at the foot of the bed, watching over the three sleeping men. She would go home with two of them, and somehow they would figure out what would come next. Unlike Neal, she wasn't conflicted in the least about what she wanted.
***
When Neal woke, he was alone in an immaculate hotel room. There was the scarf on the bedside table and a note beneath it. His head hurt and he didn't actually remember very much, which wasn't like him at all. The writing was in a slanted, feminine hand he didn't recognize. Neal, sorry I couldn't stay. It turns out that NYC isn't safe for me after all. I hope everything works out for you. Take care, Lara.
It didn't quite hurt the way he thought it might, and Neal picked up the scarf she had left behind. For some reason, it just made him infinitely sad. He didn't want to be on the run anymore, didn't want to hide. He never got enough time for what he wanted, but he didn't know how to get it. Somehow, he had never learned that trick.
Neal tucked the scarf into the pocket of his suit jacket as he got dressed. He left the room without a backward glance.
"Paradigm Shift." Ariadne/Arthur/Eames, paradox
Arthur was sitting at his computer waiting for one of his contacts to get back to him. Ariadne sketched vague things in a notebook, waiting for the sun to come up. Eames had been a little more agitated going into this particular full moon, so he hadn't felt safe near them, even chained up. Instead, he locked himself into the basement of the house they were currently staying in. It was stone lined and had a heavy door, plus Arthur had shoved a heavy cabinet in front of the door at Eames' request. When the sun came up, Arthur would move it and they would help Eames clean up.
Some of the sketches Ariadne was going through looked like various optical illusions, reversible figures and paradoxes. It was hard to translate the sketches into three dimensional maps, but she could already picture it in her head. Arthur looked over at her notebook and then at the clock. "Sunrise is coming soon."
She nodded, looking up. "Anything yet?" She leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently when he shook his head. "Should I start another pot of coffee?"
"He'll hate that we're still up this late."
"He'd also hate it if we slept through this, so he'll have to deal with it. I'll make more coffee."
They were exhausted by the time sunrise came around, and Arthur waited another half hour just to be sure that Eames would have transformed back from a wolf to human form. Eames was sitting on the basement steps when he opened the door, sticky with sweat and smears of blood. "I'm surprised the two of you didn't fuck while I was a wolf." There was a hard edge to his voice as he pulled himself up to a standing position. "Or were you hoping one day I'd do the two of you as a wolf?"
"If you're looking for me to punch you in the mouth, you're going to have to try harder," Arthur snapped. He threw the basement door the rest of the way open, and it banged sharply into the wall. "Ariadne's running you a bath. I'm in no mood for your shit right now and she's ready to fall over. We're just as exhausted as you are, asshole."
Eames caught Arthur's arm when he got to the top of the stairs. "I told you not to stay up."
"Did you really think we could sleep?" Arthur asked, voice even and eyes frosty. "Did you think we cared so little?"
Eames was silent as he went to the bathroom to soak in the tub. Ariadne had thrown epsom salts into the water, as well as lavender scented oils. "Smells better than blood," she offered with a shrug when he lofted an eyebrow in her direction. He thanked her as he sank into the water. It was a shade too hot and everything stung. Ariadne looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and a drawn expression on her face. She caught his look of concern and picked up her notebook. "I'm fine," she huffed, then went into the bedroom to continue sketching.
They were both asleep by the time he left the bathroom. The water had cooled and he was feeling vaguely human again. Arthur was on his side of the bed, still dressed from the day before. His laptop was on the bedside table, still powered up and with a dozen different programs running. Ariadne was sprawled across half of the remaining space, and she had changed into some kind of pajama suit with little flowers on it. The suit was new, and still smelled like soap and the store she had bought it in. Eames looked at the sketches she had made, trying to make sense of them. His eyes hurt after a while, trying to trace the lines and see what the hell she had drawn. He had no idea what it would look like in a dream, if this was some of that paradoxical architecture that Arthur kept talking about. Arthur liked puzzles, liked things complicated and messy only if he was able to make it neat and coherent.
It occurred to Eames that the two of them had bent over backward for him in the past two months. They were doing whatever they could to stick by him, even trying this kind of a relationship since it seemed to help keep his balance mentally. There had to be things that they wanted before, jobs they found interesting or places they wanted to visit. Now they were irrevocably tied to him, and he hadn't even noticed.
Feeling almost chastised, he let them sleep in peace.
***
It was late afternoon when Arthur actually woke, and he at least felt less fuzzy-headed. He checked his computer as soon as he realized that he was alone in bed. There were three messages wanting responses immediately, one that was utterly useless and two that might pan out for the job if he kept looking into it. That was promising, at least.
Ariadne's notebook and pencils had fallen to the floor, and Arthur didn't see any new sketches in them. There was a slight noise from down the hallway, and then laughter. He followed it, and saw Eames and Ariadne sitting on the floor in pajamas with children's building blocks. She was trying to demonstrate various architectural design elements, and was trying to illustrate why paradoxical architecture could never work outside of dreams. Ariadne had him try building something again, and it all came tumbling down. It made them both laugh, and Eames shook his head. "Still not my thing, darling. But I'm glad it's something you enjoy."
She caught sight of Arthur in the hallway, not quite entering the room. "Hey, you're up."
"We figured you needed the sleep," Eames drawled, not quite turning his head. He continued to build something, a massive block tower with an overhang that looked ready to fall though it never did. "I haven't been doing either of you any favors, so the least I could do was let you sleep."
Arthur frowned, as if Eames had just said something puzzling, and Eames had to hold back the urge to just kiss the man silly. What did he want? Statements of undying love? That was more Ariadne's thing than Arthur's. He would rather puzzle things out on his own and then confirm his conclusions. Arthur would have to figure out what Eames meant on his own.
"There's work to be done," Arthur said finally. Work was always a safe topic. It was easy and neutral, and wasn't anything like the emotional minefield between the three of them. "We should be able to get started by next week, I think. It'll be a job that requires long preparation time to get to the subject safely. It might even be easier if you forge someone."
Eames smiled, the edges of his smile sharp with anticipation. "Can't wait, then."
Ariadne looked over the block building with a critical eye. "Not bad," she commented with a nod. "Maybe you're getting the idea after all."
"Better late than never," Eames replied, knowing the words meant more than Ariadne thought they did.
***
Kissing Ariadne was capturing lightning in a bottle. Kissing Arthur was breaking stone walls with a pickaxe. Ariadne gave herself over to his touch easily, but she had feelings for him before he had turned. Eames had to work for every bit of Arthur's attention, breaking down his resistance bit by bit. That he loved Ariadne was obvious, and she cared for him back. He had liked Arthur before, but it had changed somewhat. Mostly because of the raging agitation that came with the change, but now he saw past the professional armor a bit. He liked what he saw. Eames couldn't be sure what Arthur saw in him, if anything at all.
The three of them were naked in bed, a tangle of limbs and mouths and tongues. Eames was mouthing one of Ariadne's breasts, fondling the other as he sprawled across the bed. Arthur was kneeling beside him, lubed fingers pushing into him at a steady pace. Ariadne had Arthur's thigh caught between her legs, and it was holding a vibrator in place inside of her. All Eames could hear was Ariadne's whimpers and moans and Arthur's harsh breathing. He was silent, drinking them in, feeling everything as if for the first time.
Ariadne was starting to writhe beneath his mouth and hand, approaching orgasm growing overwhelming. It was her third so far, and Eames' record was nine so far. Sometimes it was work, at other times she was already primed and almost ready to go. The toy was probably cheating, but he didn't usually think so.
Arthur removed his fingers, and Eames made a disappointed sound around Ariadne's breast. Her cries as she came muffled Eames' grunt of surprise as Arthur pushed his cock into Eames. He lifted his head and turned to look at Arthur in surprise. The other man had never seemed terribly interested in receiving or reciprocating all of Eames' interest in real life. Dreams were a different story, since Arthur could always dismiss it as something that wasn't real. There was no way to dismiss this. "What...?"
A sharp thrust cut off Eames' words as he made a high pitched whining sound. Arthur smirked at him. "Let's just say you're not the only one able to do this."
Eames groaned as Arthur set a punishing rhythm. He pulled Ariadne close for a kiss on the mouth, their tongues twisting and dueling as Eames fought to keep from coming right away. Ariadne grasped Eames' arms tightly, fingers digging in as she approached another orgasm. She broke the kiss and let out a strangled groan before finally shifting her hips. She pulled the vibrator out and shut it off, whimpering "Too much, too much."
Curling on her side, Ariadne ran a hand along Arthur's thigh as he pumped hard and fast into Eames. She pressed her lips to Eames's shoulder and neck, not quite kisses. Her other hand slid along his chest. I love you, she mouthed against his skin, not even using her voice. She didn't have to. He knew it anyway, ever since she had pushed aside her misgivings about him as a wolf. Only a woman in love would do something like that. Anyone else would have run screaming in the opposite direction and not look back.
Ariadne moved slightly so that her hand traced the ridges of muscle in his abdomen, then closed her hand around his cock. A few sharp pulls and he was spilling over her hand. Eames' entire body clenched tight, which was enough to make Arthur lose control and come.
This was a smaller house, and they had to take turns washing up in the bathroom. "Why now?" Eames asked Arthur.
"You're not the only one capable of making changes," Arthur replied slowly. It was almost as if he was waking from a dream. "Maybe you matter to me, too, asshole," Arthur continued when Eames was silent. "It doesn't have to be just about you."
Eames pulled him close and kissed him, licking deep into his mouth and holding the back of his neck tightly so he couldn't get away. "You matter to me, too."
Ariadne climbed back into bed after pulling on one of Eames' discarded T shirts. She kissed the back of Eames' neck and then Arthur's cheek. "And you both matter to me," she added simply. "Sleep now?"
Eames smiled as Arthur nodded. Whatever this was between the three of them, it seemed to be working. He wasn't about to be an idiot and question his good fortune.