Breathing Space - Inception - Cobb/Eames
Title: Breathing Space
Pairing: Cobb/Eames
Word Count: 605
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for a prompt at inception_kink for cobb_eames's Prompt Filling Friday.
Summary: Cobb and Eames have to hide in a wardrobe. Eames amuses himself.
Their breathing fills the space as they listen to the projections darting past outside, searching for the intruders. Footsteps storm by, loud and then fading, and Cobb presses his ear to the wardrobe door, trying to work out whether or not they are safe to leave yet. He doesn't like staying in one place longer than he has to.
Yet when he makes a move to go, Eames's arm slips around his waist from behind, anchoring him in place. "We should wait," Eames whispers. "Arthur will find us when he's ready."
Cobb frowns; since when has Eames been willing to sit still and allow Arthur to do the heavy lifting?
A moment later his questions are answered as he feels Eames's hands undoing his belt. He is trying to be scandalised - trying not to smile - and is sure that he isn't entirely succeeding.
"Eames," he says. He sounds stern: good. "Is this really the right place for that?"
"It really is." Belt open, Eames pops the button of his trousers and slips his hand inside, cold fingers against sensitive skin, enough to make Cobb hiss air through his teeth and push back against him; he feels Eames hard behind him, an aching erection pushed against his ass like a promise. Cobb groans despite his better judgement, and he feels the rush of air as Eames chuckles against his neck. "Quiet, now. You wouldn't want us to be discovered, would you?"
Cobb thinks about all of the hundreds of ways that he is going to get Eames back for this as he bites on his bottom lip to hold back the noise. Eames's hand wraps around him within the confines of his trousers and begins to stroke him to hardness, his mouth skating against Cobb's neck as he does so. Cobb's eyes close so that he can hide in the darkness, short of breath as Eames jerks him off and grinds against him from behind. Resting against Eames's chest, he could turn his head to capture Eames's mouth, to kiss him breathless in revenge, but for now all he can do is pant and surrender, swallowing back every moan that longs to escape.
"When we wake up, we have to do this properly," Eames breathes against him. "It's been too long."
Far too long. There aren't many people these days that Cobb trusts enough to allow this close; Eames is one of the few.
Eames's pace is fast and his hand is tight and it's perfect, really, just perfect. It is the kind of thing that demands complete surrender, even as Cobb's hands curl into fists and his blunt fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. When he comes, it is with a stifled groan, bending over as it hits him. Eames's hands shift to cling onto his hips and pull him back tighter against him, to where they fit together with no space between and Eames can bring himself off that way, heated friction against the curve of Cobb's ass.
They will wake up with damp pants, but for now they stand in their hiding spot, Eames's forehead against Cobb's shoulder as they catch their breath.
"We should get moving," Cobb says, fixing himself up as best he can. "The projections are gone."
"You're the boss," Eames says - but that doesn't stop himself from pushing Cobb free from their hiding spot with a pat on his ass, far firmer than could ever be necessary.
Arthur is going to have a fit when he sees them like this.
Not for the first time, Cobb wonders if he has sacrificed the last scraps of his sanity to Eames and that daredevil smile.
Pairing: Cobb/Eames
Word Count: 605
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for a prompt at inception_kink for cobb_eames's Prompt Filling Friday.
Summary: Cobb and Eames have to hide in a wardrobe. Eames amuses himself.
Their breathing fills the space as they listen to the projections darting past outside, searching for the intruders. Footsteps storm by, loud and then fading, and Cobb presses his ear to the wardrobe door, trying to work out whether or not they are safe to leave yet. He doesn't like staying in one place longer than he has to.
Yet when he makes a move to go, Eames's arm slips around his waist from behind, anchoring him in place. "We should wait," Eames whispers. "Arthur will find us when he's ready."
Cobb frowns; since when has Eames been willing to sit still and allow Arthur to do the heavy lifting?
A moment later his questions are answered as he feels Eames's hands undoing his belt. He is trying to be scandalised - trying not to smile - and is sure that he isn't entirely succeeding.
"Eames," he says. He sounds stern: good. "Is this really the right place for that?"
"It really is." Belt open, Eames pops the button of his trousers and slips his hand inside, cold fingers against sensitive skin, enough to make Cobb hiss air through his teeth and push back against him; he feels Eames hard behind him, an aching erection pushed against his ass like a promise. Cobb groans despite his better judgement, and he feels the rush of air as Eames chuckles against his neck. "Quiet, now. You wouldn't want us to be discovered, would you?"
Cobb thinks about all of the hundreds of ways that he is going to get Eames back for this as he bites on his bottom lip to hold back the noise. Eames's hand wraps around him within the confines of his trousers and begins to stroke him to hardness, his mouth skating against Cobb's neck as he does so. Cobb's eyes close so that he can hide in the darkness, short of breath as Eames jerks him off and grinds against him from behind. Resting against Eames's chest, he could turn his head to capture Eames's mouth, to kiss him breathless in revenge, but for now all he can do is pant and surrender, swallowing back every moan that longs to escape.
"When we wake up, we have to do this properly," Eames breathes against him. "It's been too long."
Far too long. There aren't many people these days that Cobb trusts enough to allow this close; Eames is one of the few.
Eames's pace is fast and his hand is tight and it's perfect, really, just perfect. It is the kind of thing that demands complete surrender, even as Cobb's hands curl into fists and his blunt fingernails dig into the palms of his hands. When he comes, it is with a stifled groan, bending over as it hits him. Eames's hands shift to cling onto his hips and pull him back tighter against him, to where they fit together with no space between and Eames can bring himself off that way, heated friction against the curve of Cobb's ass.
They will wake up with damp pants, but for now they stand in their hiding spot, Eames's forehead against Cobb's shoulder as they catch their breath.
"We should get moving," Cobb says, fixing himself up as best he can. "The projections are gone."
"You're the boss," Eames says - but that doesn't stop himself from pushing Cobb free from their hiding spot with a pat on his ass, far firmer than could ever be necessary.
Arthur is going to have a fit when he sees them like this.
Not for the first time, Cobb wonders if he has sacrificed the last scraps of his sanity to Eames and that daredevil smile.