Prompt Post No. 14
Welcome to Round 14 of the Inception Kink Meme. This post will be closed to new prompts once it reaches five thousand comments.
New Prompting System
- Prompt post will temporarily close to new prompts at 2000 comments.
- Forty-eight hours later, post will reopen to new prompts and temporarily close again when 4000 comments are reached.
- Forty-eight hours ( Read more... )
Eames notices the small gift box as soon as Arthur returns with their pastries and egg sandwiches. "What's that for?" He asks, gesturing at it with a chocolate glazed donut.
"You mean who," Arthur corrects.
Eames arches a brow and Arthur tries to imagine his amused smirk as half hearted.
"Lucky lady in your life, dear?"
"You could say that."
Arthur decides the best place to spring his trap is at work. Eames is infuriating at times, but he is always a professional, and if there's any place where he'd let himself be cornered it's at work. The night before Arthur takes the panties out of their box and tissue paper and inspects them. Just going over all the details, he tells himself. It's a thong, deep purple with a black trim and a very open pattern. Arthur imagines Eames in them, the fabric disappearing between that infuriatingly pert backside of his as he leanes over. He rubs the fabric between his fingers, wondering what they would feel like against Eames' skin, and that's all it takes before he's hard and burning with familiar frustration. If he goes to work like this he's going to be walking around like there's a stick in his ass all day, so he lies down on the bed, panties clutched in one hand and cock throbbing in the other, and lets himself go. The lace smells like department store perfume and boxes, but soon it's going to smell like Eames. It's going to smell like his sweat and his musk, and fuck, Arthur is going to make him come in this and then it's going to smell like that too. He jerks himself off, quickly, comes in a hotel cup and has the decency to rinse it out in the bathroom sink before putting himself back together and setting off.
He gets his chance at lunch. Yusuf has done his part of the work and is absent, and an off hand suggestion that Cobb and Ariadne take a working lunch off to some nice restaurant for once gets rid of them.
Eames doesn't look up from his work when Arthur sets a box of kung pow chicken on his desk, just mumbles out a thank you dear and keeps his head down. It's not until he realizes that Arthur hasn't left that he looks up, a brow quirked in inquiry.
"Eames, do you remember the other night?"
"Hmm?"
"At the bar."
Eames gives Arthur a disinterested smile, the same one he's given him every other time Arthur ever brought up their night time ritual during daylight hours. "Oh yes, I really am sorry about that."
"You owe me."
"I do."
Arthur sets the box down in front of Eames and leanes into his desk.
"I'm cashing in."
Eames is curious now. He's looking at Arthur the way he does when he's investigating a forgery mark, like he needs to pick apart every quirk and tick. Arthur simply stares back, hand on the desk, leaning into Eames' space. After a moment of consideration Eames tugs the top of the box open, lifts the tissue paper, and blanches. He closes the box and stares at it like it's a bomb, and Arthur realizes that he's rapidly gaining the wrong impression, so he leans in further, until he's right by Eames' ear, and says, steady and quiet, "This is what I want. I want you to wear those for me."
Eames swallows. "God... when did you..."
Arthur smiles against Eames' ear, so he can feel it. "You have loose lips when you're drunk, Mr. Eames. Now how about you do what I asked?"
Eames practically stumbles out of his chair, and trots off to the bathroom. Arthur watches his ass as he goes and tells himself this will have been well worth the wait.
Reply
By the time Eames steps out of the bathroom Arthur is back at his own workstation, munching on Chinese. He ignores Eames' return, although he had been keeping track of the time and felt a thrill of vindictive pleasure when he realized it had been way to long for Eames to have just switched underwear. He thinks of Eames jerking off in the bathroom, his teeth digging into those beautiful lips of his and the lace pulled down to his knees, no, tucked down just enough to hug his balls, thinking of Arthur, doing what? Kissing him through the fabric? Bending him over and... and Arthur chokes and coughs up a peanut and decides if he's going to last the rest of the day he needs to enforce some mental discipline, immediately. Ariadne and Cobb will be back soon anyway, and then next phase of his plan can begin.
Ten minutes later the rest of the team walk through the door and it's business as usual. Well, it's usual on the surface at least. It will take more than a spike in the sexual atmosphere to make Eames lose his cool, and Arthur is so used to the frustration that he barely registers it any more, but it doesn't pass by his notice that Eames keeps stealing glances at him, or that he's shifting in his seat and sighing as Cobb explains the setup he has planned for this particular extraction.
Cobb and Ariadne go under together to hash out a few details in the maze. Arthur checks their vitals, double checks the time and the levels, and then turns and looks for Eames. The forger is walking away, towards the back exit into the alley. He knows what's coming, Arthur thinks, but he's not getting away so easily. There's no traffic in this area of the city, and if Eames thinks being out in the open will save him, he has underestimated Arthur to an insulting degree.
Eames is leaning against the building, fag in mouth, when Arthur steps outside. He gives Arthur a sidelong glance and takes a long drag. Usually, Arthur would have gotten the hint and abandoned whatever attempt he would have made at trying to pin Eames down, figuratively of course, well, possibly physically if Eames had ever let it come to that, but this time Arthur had a plan, and Eames was not going to divert him from it, no matter how easily he could make Arthur feel like an overeager school boy trying to make a disinterested crush pay attention.
Eames' ass, Arthur tells himself. Think of Eames' ass, just think of the payoff, and so fortified he steps down to Eames and pulls the cigarette from his lips.
“I've been thinking about you,” he says.
Eames is smiling up at him through his lashes. Flirty bastard. “Have you,” he says.
Arthur's gaze falls to Eames' waistline. “How do you like my present?” Eames shifts. The smirk isn't gone from his face, but he's flushing, and Arthur moves in until he has Eames caged in between his arms. “Tonight I want to see you in them. Just them. I'm going to peel off that shirt of yours, and those pants, and have myself a good look at what's mine.”
“Fuck.”
“No, not yet. Do you have any idea how much misery you've put me through? I'm going to make you earn it.”
Eames' breath stutters. He presses himself against the brick and Arthur follows, pressing their bodies close until there's barely an inch between them. He's hard again, and wants nothing more than to pull Eames' pants down right then and there and suck him off until he's weeping, but he is nothing if not a man of discipline.
“I'm going to take you, on my terms, and you'll be a good boy for me, won't you? Was this what you were waiting for? For me to come at you like this and make you feel dirty?”
“God, yes...”
Reply
The blood is pounding in Arthur's ears and between his legs. The look Eames is giving him is one of complete and open need and it's cutting into his stomach and making him lightheaded. Eames licks his lips and Arthur curses to cut off an embarrassing moan.
“You slutty little boy. I bet you're making those panties all wet for me right now, aren't you?”
It's Eames' turn to groan. He leans forward, looking for contact, but Arthur pulls away and pins his hands to the wall above his head. Eames moans again and writhes against the wall, and Arthur may be disciplined, but apparently Eames is shameless, and he's not sure which of them will actually come up on top in this little dance. If he doesn't end it soon he's not going to be able to help himself anymore. His free hand trails down Eames' arm, down his side, retreating from the touch Eames is doggedly trying to increase, until it's resting on Eame's hip.
“Tonight, I am going to make you beg for it. You're going to be my good little boy and do just what I say, and then I'm going to fuck you open, just the way you want.”
Eames closes his eyes, his chest heaving with arousal, and Arthur's hand drifts off his hip, down to grab a firm hold of his ass. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Arthur...”
Arthur tightens his grip. His fingers dig into Eames' inner thigh and again Eames tries to push close, to close the space between them.
“Arthur... I'm going to come.”
“Good, I want you wet for me,” Arthur hisses back, and presses his thigh forward and up, just enough to make contact between Eames' legs, to add a little pressure.
Eames comes with a violent shudder, and this time Arthur lets him lift his body off the brick and press against him, his forehead tucked into the crook of Arthur's neck and his hands gripping Arthur's shoulders so hard he's certain there'll be bruises. For a moment Arthur is seeing starts himself, but he keeps it together and holds Eames until Eames is melting in his hands and moaning out “oh God” in the most delicious, broken voice that has ever molested Arthur's ears. Breathe, Arthur. You'll get yours soon enough and it's going to be glorious.
He gives Eames a few moments to return to earth before pulling away. Eames falls back against the brick wall to catch his breath. He glances down at Arthur's waist, where there is a tell tale tent in his pants, and grins. Steady Arthur. Breathe Arthur.
“Tonight,” Arthur says again, and then he's walking back to the door, wondering how long he has in the bathroom before Eames sneaks back in.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
...I'll be in my bunk.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
*fans self*
Reply
Leave a comment