Prompt Post No. 12
Welcome to Round 12 of the Inception Kink Meme.
Prompting System
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Eames wakes sometime later to a metallic sort of rattle. It takes him a minute to orient himself - he’s at Diane’s, that’s right, and it’s the middle of the night. And someone is coming into the room... which is not right at all. He pushes up on one elbow and wills his eyes to adjust to the dark. He can hear the door close again and the lock flick back into place.
“Who’s there?”
“Shhh...”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He’s wide awake now. “Arthur, how did you get in here?”
“It’s not a very hard lock to pick,” Arthur says, quiet and matter-of-fact. Eames still can’t make out much in the dark but he knows Arthur is already next to the bed, and it sounds like he’s setting something on the nightstand.
“Arthur, what are you...”
“Shhh...” Arthur cuts him off and tugs back the covers.
Eames grasps frantically for a way abort this impending disaster. His mind flashes to a Discovery Channel show he watched on animals who could play dead to avoid predators. Thanatosis was the scientific term for it, and in his desperation he considers it. But maybe that’s not the best defense mechanism - some spiders, Eames recalls from the documentary, actually feign death to attract mates.
Arthur climbs into the bed. Eames wants to climb out of his skin.
“Arthur, you can’t...”
He’s silenced this time by the firm press of Arthur’s index finger against his lips. “Eames, you really shouldn’t talk so loud. You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?”
Eames has no idea whether Arthur is attempting caution or intimidation. He is very sure, however, that Arthur is attempting to seduce him. He is very, very afraid that Arthur is going to succeed.
“What do you want, Arthur?” He keeps his voice as hushed as he can manage, considering Arthur is wriggling up against his bare side.
“Fuck me.”
If Arthur wants Eames to shut up, well, that gets the job done. It stops Eames from breathing, much less talking. He jumps a little and finally sucks air when Arthur touches him, gently, on the shoulder, rubbing his thumb almost tentatively over naked skin. “Jesus, Arthur, we can’t do this! I told you...”
Arthur makes an exasperated noise. “Look, my mom sleeps like the dead, and she doesn’t even think I’m home yet. The door’s locked. No one’s going to catch us.”
Eames knows he shouldn't dignify that with a response, and yet he does. “It’s not just that. You’re still in high school...”
“So? I’m seventeen, I’m not some naive virgin. Like I told you before, you’re not corrupting me.”
“Arthur...”
“No, that’s bullshit.” Arthur’s tone turns hot and sharp, and Eames is impressed at how he manages to stay so quiet and yet sound so angry. “Ever since my dad left I have to act like an adult all the fucking time. For three years now everyone expects me to be so goddamn responsible, but when it comes to what I want, everybody still treats me like a goddamn child.”
Eames thinks back to when he was seventeen. His mum had been gone for two years and his dad may as well have been. Acting like a kid was a luxury he couldn’t really afford either. Maybe he can see Arthur’s point of view. But still… “Is that why you’re here? To prove something?”
“No. I’m here because I like you,” Arthur slides his hand up on Eames' hip, fingers repeating a subtle pattern on his skin. “I like the way you look at me.”
Eames feels his resolve crumbling. Arthur’s words are wearing down his determination like rough-grit sandpaper. He puts a hand on Arthur’s arm, which shivers ever so slightly under his touch. Arthur’s t-shirt is threadbare-soft and tight on his biceps, like it was a favorite he’d outgrown but couldn’t bear to part with. Eames can feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton and he drags his fingers just a fraction of an inch over the warm, worn fabric. “Shouldn’t you be doing this with someone your own age?”
“I’ve screwed around with guys my age, but they were stupid and clumsy and it sucked. You’ll make it feel good, I know you will.”
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