Prompt Post No.10
Welcome to Round 10 of the Inception Kink Meme. This post will be closed to new prompts once it reaches three thousand comments.
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Arthur's phone buzzed just as he brought his glass of 1984 Château Mouton Rothschild up to his lips.
Come to Italy
It was from an unknown number but Arthur knew who sent it immediately.
Is this about a job? I'm on vacation, Eames.
It's not about a job
Arthur set his glass down. He was intrigued. The waiter came by and delivered his lamb as he tapped out his reply.
Tell me where, and give me a few days.
'Where' was an old, secluded stone villa on Lake Como. 'Where' was impossibly soft 1,500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets on an impossibly comfortable king-size bed. 'Where' was being surrounded by the smells of pine & citrus, crumbled cheese, and perfectly aged Merlot.
'Where' was Arthur, face down on the hood of a cherry red 1967 e-type Jaguar, falling to pieces under Eames's tongue.
“Oh, Jesus, Eames,” Arthur gritted out from between his teeth. They had just come up from the lake and Arthur was still wet, his hands slipping all over the sleek hood as he attempted to push himself farther back on to Eames's tongue. Eames hummed his approval and Arthur shuddered at the vibration that ran up his spine. The strong hands that had been digging bruises into his hips moved to spread his cheeks, and Arthur nearly choked on his own inhale as Eames's tongue worked its way inside, slippery and wet and hot as the sun beating down on them.
“Fuck, you are unreasonably good at that,” he breathed.
Eames pulled away and nipped at Arthur's thigh. “I know,” he said, and Arthur could see the cocky smile without even turning around but he did anyway, staring at Eames with dark, intense eyes.
“I don't recall telling you to stop,” he said smoothly, licking his lips as he watched Eames shiver. Arthur felt one thumb inside him, then another, pulling him open so Eames could bury his tongue even deeper inside. The car shook slightly as Arthur lurched forward with a shout, trying to get some sort of friction against the unyielding metal. His hands curled into claws and he didn't even care if he scratched the paint ('This is my new baby,' Eames had said as he slammed Arthur down on the hood and yanked his skintight swim trunks down, 'so be good to her').
A cool breeze blew in off the lake and Arthur's skin blossomed with goosebumps. His hair had begun to dry and without any product to tame it, it hung in thick strands over his face as Eames continued to kiss and suck behind him, making obscene slurping noises. He felt a droplet of saliva run down his inner thigh and squirmed even more, every part of him aching for something more than just the tips of Eames's fingers inside him. Arthur leaned his chest on the car so he could bring one hand down to touch himself, but Eames's gripped his wrist and twisted his arm away.
“Ow, fuck, just let me-”
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“Easy for you to say,” Arthur growled, his cheeks almost as red as the shiny paint beneath him.
“You think so?” Eames stood up and Arthur moaned shamelessly at the lack of contact between them. There was a large and obvious bulge in Eames's trunks, and Eames palmed himself roughly as he stared down at Arthur spread out over his car. “You can't even imagine how delectable you look right now.”
Arthur's cheeks burned even hotter.
He reached a hand back and slipped one finger into his ass, slick from Eames's saliva. Eames watched, mouth open slightly, as Arthur curved his spine just enough so his hips came up off the car.
“Just fuck me already,” he rasped, his bottom lip catching on the hood as he tilted his head to look at Eames, who had already divested himself of his swim trunks and was rustling in the glovebox for something.
“Please don't tell me... you keep lube in your car?”
Eames chuckled as he ripped the package open. “Have you seen this car, Arthur? I mean, I'm sure your face and the bonnet are quite well acquainted now, but have you really looked? It's impossible not to think sexy thoughts when you're in her.” As he spoke he came up behind Arthur and slid two thick fingers inside him, twisting and crooking them just so.
“The gentle, perfect curve of the hood” - one more finger - “The butter-soft leather of the seats” - and another - “And the sound of her when she starts up” - twist, push - “Like a purr.”
He leaned over Arthur and pulled his head back by his hair.
“I'm going to make you purr, Arthur.” Arthur growled deeply and Eames bit at his neck before pulling his fingers out and flipping him over by the hips. Arthur hissed as his back landed on the hot metal, warmed from the sun, but he barely had time to register the heat before Eames thrust his cock inside.
His head fell back with a clunk as Eames pushed in deeply, to the hilt, his hands braced on either side of Arthur's shoulders. He soon slipped down to his elbows as he pumped quickly in and out, the hot slap of skin on skin filling the air. Arthur shifted as close to the edge as possible and wrapped his legs around Eames for leverage; he met every thrust with the snap of his hips, and Eames was soon gasping out breath in between mouthing Arthur's collarbone.
“Harder,” Arthur demanded, clawing at Eames's back, pressing their bodies as close together as possible. Eames complied. Every push caused a strangled moan to escape from Arthur's throat, and he pulled desperately at Eames, trying to move him up on the car.
“No... Arthur... the suspension...”
“Jesus Christ, Eames!”
Eames reached down and grasped Arthur's cock, and that seemed to work just as well. Arthur shouted filthy things into the air, his voice rubbed raw, and he came a few seconds later on Eames's hand. Eames slowed his pace just slightly as Arthur's legs dropped from around his waist, but when Arthur brought Eames's hand up to his mouth and sucked in two fingers, Eames shuddered and collapsed on top of him, their bodies sticky with sweat and come.
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“Fuck it,” Eames mumbled into his chest, “although I really could use another dip in the lake right about now.”
“Get off me, then,” Arthur said, pushing him over and racing down the steps to the water, not even bothering with his trunks this time.
- - - - -
Arthur flopped down on the sand, boneless, and shivered as the heat from the sun prickled on his wet skin. He heard Eames come over and settle himself down, and they both lay motionless on the soft beach. They were there so long that Arthur began to drift in and out of a light sleep, but he was roused by Eames's voice, quiet next to his ear.
“So... remember how I said this wasn't about a job?”
Arthur shaded his face with his hand and cracked one eye open to look over at Eames, who had propped himself up on one elbow and was smiling almost sheepishly down at Arthur. He frowned briefly before chuckling and running a hand through his damp hair.
“Jesus. You're worse than I am.”
“Doubtful,” Eames replied, smiling wider. “Come on. Aren't you bored of all this yet?”
“Bored of staying in posh hotels and villas, bored of napping on the beach in the afternoon, bored of eating ridiculously overpriced food and drinking ridiculously overpriced liquor?”
“Don't forget: getting fucked on the hoods of luxury automobiles.”
Arthur squinted up at him. It only took him a few seconds to answer.
“God, yes.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, maybe excluding that last one.”
Eames leaned over him, blocking the sun and creating a halo of light around his head. He kissed Arthur deeply, dipping his tongue in to taste him and crushing their lips together. He inhaled through his nose, the scent of Arthur's skin causing his blood to thrum just a little more quickly. One more swipe of his tongue and a bite on his bottom lip and Eames finally pulled away, breathless, and twirled a wet strand of Arthur's hair around his finger.
“It's getting long,” he said, leaning back in to kiss Arthur's strong jaw.
“What's the job then?” Arthur's eyes were sharp and brilliant, no trace of the languid, relaxed droop they had earlier. He looked like he was ready to run a marathon, read a thousand books, stay up until all hours until he was absolutely sure his designs were perfect. He looked like he could take on a whole goddamned army.
“How's your German?”
“Rusty,” Arthur replied.
“Well we better get started then,” Eames said, but Arthur was already up, smiling brilliantly and reaching down to pull Eames along with him.
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I love how suave they both here. And sexy, don't forget sexy.
and this line
“I'm going to make you purr, Arthur.”
Is pure, pure , pure gem.
Now I want to see them being BAMF in the German job and have another rounds with Eames's lovely precious. I want it with passion. <3<3<3
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I loved the: "I'm going to make you purr, Arthur"
And of course Eames keeps lube in his car.
XOXO,
S.S.
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oh em gee is all i can really manage at this time. <3
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There are other cars that can do all sorts of hot things to me. But the E-Type's the only one that can do THAT.
Thank you, Anon, from the bottom of my heart. Not to mention my other bits.
[and if anyone's interested, here's a soft-top: http://www.collectioncar.com/detailed.php?ad=4562&category_id=1 (bottom left corner)]
ETA: url fix
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