Merry Month of May Love Fest 2011!
Welcome to May, everyone!!
To celebrate the Merry Month of May with as much love as we can, I am pleased to announce
♥LOVE FEST 2011♥Comment to this post with anything love-related you'd like to see written/drawn/created with your favorite Inception peeps! To keep things organized, we'll stay in the same vein as the kink meme and ask that you ( Read more... )
To celebrate the Merry Month of May with as much love as we can, I am pleased to announce
♥LOVE FEST 2011♥Comment to this post with anything love-related you'd like to see written/drawn/created with your favorite Inception peeps! To keep things organized, we'll stay in the same vein as the kink meme and ask that you ( Read more... )
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Arthur was having a dream (a natural one for once since he hadn't been required to use the PASIV on his last two jobs).
He dreamed of a warm place, tropical most likely (he actually spared himself on details in natural dreams most of the time), with the sound of the ocean in his ears and some kind of fruity drink in a coconut. The sun was settling against the water, hovering below some pink and purple clouds, and he was content with just lounging there forever.
BA-DOOM. Thunder cracked across the sky, and Arthur barely had time to move before lightning struck him and jolted him awake (dreamsharing always did make the mind come up with creative ways to wake a person up). He shot up to a sitting position immediately, angry at the hotel room and the entire world outside of it, but mostly just angry at Eames who had apparently slammed the door after coming inside (thus the thunder).
Arthur glared. "What the fuck--"
"I cannot stay in that room with that wanker," Eames said, and Arthur realized his face was heated and flushed with anger, that his shirt was more rumpled than usual, and that there was a bruise blooming on his cheekbone.
He was of course referring to their extractor, a man who Eames had referred to from the beginning as a bloody twat or something, and Arthur could be inclined to agree. It was sort of the reason he'd put Eames in the same room as him in the first place, because Eames had made an inappropriate comment about his trousers in front of Ariadne that made her turn as red as her jacket.
"It's three thirty in the morning," Arthur offered anyway, rubbing at his eye. "Did you really have to slam the door? I was trying to sleep."
"Why are you the only one who gets a room to yourself?" Eames said bitterly.
Ariadne was sharing with the chemist, a young lady name Katrina.
"I booked the rooms, and you only gave me enough money for half of one, so I had you share," Arthur replied simply, sinking back into his mattress. It was one of those rare moments where he was in a hotel bed that was actually comfortable and he didn't intend on wasting it by being up all night fighting with Eames. He actually felt a little bit sorry for him with the bruise. Their extractor, Gordon, wasn't a little man by any means (but Eames could hold his own in a fight).
"I'm not staying in that fucking room," Eames said. "Scoot over and let me share your bed."
"No!" Arthur complained, and it might have been a little childish the way he spread himself out under the covers to take up as much of the bed as physically possible. "I paid for my own bed. I should get to sleep in my own bed."
Eames seemed momentarily distracted by the way Arthur had spread himself on the mattress, and it made Arthur blush a bit uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry," Eames said, blinking as he came out of his daze, "are you wearing clothing?"
Arthur was sure he was as red as a tomato. He'd forgotten the fact that he was very much nude under the covers (which wasn't extremely obvious, and yet Eames had realized it immediately). The bed had just been so comfortable, and it was so warm in Madrid, and he'd gotten out of the shower and just collapsed into the soft covers and... well... he was regretting it at the moment, considering he was spread eagle under the sheets as if he was waiting for his flirty co-worker to attack him.
Actually, it's probably best if I don't think about that right now, he thought awkwardly, but Cobb had always been right about an idea being the most resilient parasite.
"Okay, fine, what did he do to piss you off, Eames?"
"He was being a twat," Eames replied.
"Could you be a little more specific?"
"He was badmouthing my forgeries. He said that I was going to ruin the whole thing because I was so focused on getting in the smaller details, said we didn't have time for me to dilly-dally around. Wanker... and then, then he started telling me that it was all your fault, that I was too distracted trying to impress you because you're a perfectionist or something, so I punched him, and then he punched me back, and I can't stay in that room or I'll ring his stupid little neck." Eames sat down on the edge of the bed, wincing as he rubbed his palm over the bruise.
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"It's one thing when someone insults my work... I mean, he insulted me to my face, and that's fair enough because not everyone understands how forging works but... when he started in on your performance, I just lost it for a second. He has no room to badmouth your work when you're the best at what you do and he's still new to the extracting business. It's one thing when you insult someone to their face, it's another when you talk behind their backs. No real man talks behind the backs of someone else."
"Well, I appreciate you defending my honor and all that, but his opinion of my work doesn't mean much to me. I was only doing this job as a favor to Ariadne." He reached out and brushed his fingers over the bruise, and Eames winced again. "Oh, stop being a baby, it's not that bad. You could probably stand to put some ice on it though."
Eames smiled a little and reached up to put his hand over Arthur's, a touch Arthur hadn't been expecting. Eames's hand was warm and callused and Arthur enjoyed the feel of it more than he wanted to.
"You must have been asleep. You're only this nice to me when you're half asleep," Eames teased. He kissed Arthur's palm and put his hand down on the bed, patting the back of it gently. "If you don't mind, I'll just sleep on the floor then. I have a feeling Ariadne and Katrina would be a bit uncomfortable having me in their room. Katrina's got it in her head that I'm some kind of pervert."
"You are," Arthur snorted.
"You're the one spread eagle on the bed, starkers except for the blankets."
"For the record, I assumed I would have the room to myself."
"There's a secret part of me that hopes you knew I would be here."
"You're not very good at keeping secrets then."
"I never was," Eames said with a smirk, "not when I didn't want them to be secrets anyway."
Arthur sighed, looking down at his hand where Eames's hand still rested. "Really though... thanks for defending me," Arthur said. He figured Eames deserved at least that much. He had a feeling Eames wouldn't take a punch for just anyone. He'd watched while Eames never batted an eyelash before when a team member griped about another team member. He figured if he pointed it out to Eames, he'd just explain that their griping had been legitimate and accurate representations of the person's character.
"You're welcome," Eames mumbled, thumb rubbing against Arthur's. He stared at their hands too and then looked up, meeting eyes with him simultaneously. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, you know," Eames said, and his voice was suddenly very quiet.
And Arthur did know that. He wasn't sure how it had gotten to the point that he would know that so easily, but...
Eames cleared his throat then, removing his hand and getting off of the bed, and Arthur felt an unexpected welling up of disappointment.
"So, ah... the floor. I'll just make a place on the floor," Eames said, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. "Could I at least have one of your pillows, princess?"
His teasing didn't have as much humor to it as it usually did, and Arthur for one couldn't even mention it because his mouth had gone dry at the sight of him.
When he finally did manage to speak he said, "You've been exercising or something."
Eames raised an eyebrow. "Just trying to get in shape."
"You look... nice... Bravo."
"Thank you?" Eames said, smiling sheepishly. "I mean, you just mentioned last time we worked together that I'd packed on a couple of pounds so--"
"You started exercising just because I said something?"
Eames cleared his throat again and for a moment Arthur swore he was embarrassed, like he'd caught himself saying something that he shouldn't. "Ah... yes, well... when it gets noticeable, I guess I just-- Well, ah... I mean, you were right about-- um..."
"Are you always this articulate?" Arthur asked and caught himself smiling. He also caught Eames staring when he smiled. "You don't have to get so flustered. I mean, unless you did it solely to impress me like Gordon so haughtily proclaimed."
He'd meant it as a joke, but when Eames seemed to shrink out of embarrassment, he felt his eyes widen. "You were trying to impress me?"
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Arthur was glad Eames couldn't hear his heart skip a beat. "I... I have..." he said quietly. "I just never... I mean, I didn't think you meant anything by it. Why do you always try to impress me?"
A corner of Eames's mouth quirked up as he tossed his shirt from one hand to the other idly. "I don't know... I guess I just ah... wanted you to ahm... like me."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh at that. "What? Eames! What, are you like ten years old?"
"Don't make fun of me! I was being honest!" Eames complained, cheeks burning, and he was pouting.
"Yeah, but... why didn't you ever just tell me that you liked me?" Arthur asked, still chuckling a little.
"Well, you ah-- you didn't seem to like me very much."
"I'm sorry I'm a little emotionally stunted. You should have just told me. You don't have to impress me, Eames. I like you just fine. I like you more than most of the people I work with because I can actually trust you. You've had plenty of opportunities to sell me out, but you never did."
"You could do more damage to me than they could ever do to you," Eames said, avoiding eye contact.
"Eames," Arthur said, causing the other man to look up at him finally.
Oh, what the hell, Arthur thought, because Eames's eyes were so pretty in the dim light, and he was being remarkably appealing being all 'knight in shining armor' like by defending his honor (whether he needed it or not), getting injured for it, and standing there looking delicious.
"I'll let you sleep in the bed," Arthur said, nudging over to the side. "Provided you don't mind that I'm not wearing any clothes."
"I'd feel more comfortable if we were both in the buff," Eames joked.
Arthur smirked and decided to play along. "I'd be more comfortable that way too," he said, and Eames just stared.
Arthur held out a hand to him and Eames hesitantly took it. Arthur let him fall on top of him so that their chests were pressed together, and Eames let a knee fall between Arthur's legs.
"You're not playing around," Eames said when he felt Arthur's prick press against his thigh.
Arthur reached up and put his hand on Eames's neck, thumb resting on his jaw while the rest of his fingers pressed gently behind his ear. "I'm not very good at... conveying what I want, but..." Arthur said slowly, and he couldn't stop looking into Eames's eyes when they were so close and so bright and...
"Are you always this articulate?" Eames asked.
"I ah... should tell you that I uh... I don't normally do stuff like this, and um... I never let anyone I don't trust lay their hands on me. I don't do the whole one night stand thing, and I uh..." He wasn't sure why he was having such a difficult time saying it, but he felt oddly shy. A part of him feared that Eames would laugh at him and lose respect for him altogether.
"Are you trying to tell me that you're a virgin?" Eames asked, and his tone wasn't mocking at all.
"No," Arthur stammered, swallowing heavily. "Just ah... I've uh..."
"You've never been with a man before, have you?" Eames answered for him, and somehow he sounded fond.
"Not uh... all the way. I mean uh, third base and all, and I've done stuff to myself before but uh--"
Eames slipped his hand around to the back of Arthur's neck. "We don't have to if you don't want to," he said gently.
"That's not what I meant," Arthur said, and he felt vulnerable and exposed and...
"You don't have to be afraid," Eames said, pressing his nose to Arthur's cheek.
Arthur's eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a shaky breath. "I trust you..." he said.
"All you have to do is say so if you want me to stop," Eames said, and Arthur could feel his breath against his lips.
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Eames's hand trailed along Arthur's ribs and then up to his stomach, and the warm, rough pads of his fingers were surprisingly gentle against his skin, brushing across his abdomen as though he were something precious and breakable. He'd never been touched so gently before.
He made a small sound as Eames pressed a kiss against his chin and then against his Adam's apple, and Arthur wrapped his arms around Eames's neck. Eames kissed his collar bone and right over his heart before pulling away, straddling Arthur's waist to look down at him in the dim light coming from the lamp Arthur had left on when he'd fallen asleep.
"You're sure about this?" Eames asked, and Arthur nodded, thinking that it'd be impossible to stop now.
Eames crawled off of him then, and for a second Arthur thought that maybe he wasn't going to do it anyway, that he didn't believe Arthur, but then he was rummaging in the drawer. "I have protection, but," Eames said, and then smiled. "Ah, here we are."
He pulled free a bottle of lubricant and waved it at Arthur.
Arthur just watched while Eames undid the knot on his pajama pants and pulled them down underwear and all and then pulled the covers away from Arthur to crawl under with him.
"You nervous?" he asked.
Arthur ran a hand through Eames's hair, and he was trembling just slightly. "I'm okay," he said.
"Are you ready?" Eames asked, pressing a feather light kiss against his cheek.
"I... I think so..." Arthur mumbled.
Eames nodded and uncapped the lubricant, slathering a generous amount onto his fingers before hesitantly pressing one against Arthur's entrance. "Tell me if you want me to stop," Eames said again and then pushed slowly inside.
Arthur's eyes squeezed shut, and he bit down on his bottom lip but nodded to let Eames know he could keep going. He'd done it to himself before, but Eames's fingers were thicker. He added another one only after he was sure Arthur could handle it.
Arthur arched a little and inwardly commanded his body not to fight Eames's entrance. Eames added a third finger and thrust them in and out, brushing against his prostate only enough to make him whimper and writhe.
"Come on, Eames," Arthur gasped, and he was already drenched in sweat. "I can handle it."
Eames leaned over him again, and he was smiling in that fond way again, and it made Arthur feel warm in his chest. He leaned down and Arthur pulled him the rest of the way so that he could kiss him deeply, licking his way past Eames's crooked teeth, hand gripping into the short hairs at the nape of Eames's neck. Eames kissed his cheek and the tip of his nose, chastely kissed his lips again, and pulled away.
"It might burn a bit at first," Eames said, rolling the condom on and then uncapping the lubricant again. "You're sure?"
Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, and he couldn't actually say anything because Eames was looking upon him like some sort of beautiful prize, and he didn't know what was happening or why that look was making emotions start to swell up on the inside, making his eyes mist a little.
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It burned violently when Eames shoved himself inside, but he was slow and gentle, nothing like Arthur would have expected.
"You all right?" Eames asked, and Arthur realized he was biting down on his lip again and that tears had actually manage to escape from the corners of his eyes. "Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?"
"No, it... it feels good," Arthur stammered, voice clogged.
Eames knelt down and kissed him again before pushing in deeper, and Arthur yelped, eyes squeezing shut.
"It gets easier," Eames said, stroking Arthur's cheekbone with his thumb.
Arthur nodded and concentrated on Eames's other hand gripping to his leg, his grip firm and yet still gentle.
Eames rocked back and forth into him slowly, going a little deeper each time, until the head of his cock brushed against Arthur's prostate, causing him to groan.
"Do you like that?" Eames asked, breathless. Arthur was sure it was difficult to hold back as much as he was..
"Yes," Arthur hissed, arching to try to get more. It didn't hurt anymore. It only felt incredible.
Eames didn't seem to want to disappoint, so he did it again, and Arthur moaned loudly, fingers curling against the sweat-slicked skin of Eames's shoulders.
He dropped a shaking hand down to his own neglected prick that was beginning to ache, but Eames caught him by the wrist and brought the hand up to kiss his palm again. "Now, now," he said, smiling against the skin as he thrust in again, and Arthur shouted. "Let me."
Eames released Arthur's wrist and wrapped his hand around him, jerking him in rhythm with his thrusts.
Arthur's toes curled, and his noises started climbing out of him until he wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. There was only Eames. There was only Eames layering kisses along his jaw and kissing him open-mouthed and groaning his name over and over like it was a prayer. There was only Eames when he spilled all over his own stomach with a high-pitched whimper with Eames's hips stuttering as he came only a few seconds later and slowly pulled out.
Arthur ventured to open his eyes and found Eames gasping for air above him and looking down upon him with the most affectionate gaze Arthur had ever seen.
Arthur found tears welling in his eyes again somehow, and he realized what had transpired... what had been transpiring for so long now.
"Are you all right?" Eames asked again, brushing the tears away with his knuckles.
Arthur grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss, and Eames accepted it hungrily.
When Eames pulled away and went to throw away the condom, Arthur threw an arm over his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling emptied out and horrified of what he now knew, horrified of what was going to happen next.
He felt the mattress sink on the side as Eames crawled back into the bed and pulled Arthur to him, kissing him on the forehead and the temple. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and Arthur realized that he must have thought he'd hurt him.
"No, no... I'm okay. I'm okay..." Arthur sighed pressing himself closer to Eames.
There was a long moment of silence between them where they just laid there breathing. Arthur traced circles on Eames's chest with his index finger.
...and then Eames said, "I love you."
Arthur looked up at him, jaw hanging slack.
"Too soon?" Eames asked nervously.
"I... you... you read my thoughts," Arthur said, stunned.
Eames smiled in relief. "Oh, did I?"
Arthur leaned up to kiss him again.
His head fell to the pillow while Eames played with his hair, and he mumbled, "I need to take a shower..."
It was the last thing he said before he fell asleep, relieved and blissful.
The next morning Eames thanked Gordon for being such an arsehole, wearing the bruise on his face like a medal of honor, and he held Arthur's hand when they went to get breakfast together.
"What do you say when this job is over we go someplace tropical, like Hawaii or Jamaica?" Eames asked.
Arthur squeezed his fingers and smiled.
Eames had really read his thoughts after all, apparently.
"As long as you pay for your half of the hotel room," he teased.
"Oh, please, darling, I have a beach house in both places."
Oh, yes, Arthur was most definitely in love.
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