Prompt Post No. 18
Welcome to Round 18 of the Inception Kink Meme.
Prompting System
Prompting System
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That was how Eames ended up in his own borrowed bee hazmat suit that Saturday afternoon, following Arthur among the hives out in a field near some fruit trees as Arthur explained how he gathered honey. Eames was a bit skittish about all the bees, hazmat suit or not, although he didn't admit it. They didn't spend too much time out there, although Eames did appreciate Arthur bothering to explain to him, and told him so, and thanked him for answering his questions.
Arthur lived on his acreage, in an old farmhouse that he'd fixed up, and he had enclosed the back porch to make a sort of office. After they took the suits off, he showed Eames how he cut the honeycomb, the jars and labels he used, some of his beekeeping books and ledgers, and a new hive he was in the middle of building.
"I hope this isn't boring you," he said, rubbing the back of his head as he considered Eames. "It's all very... specific to the beekeeping industry."
"I'm not bored," Eames replied, shaking his head. If it had been anyone else, he knew, he'd be bored to tears.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Arthur asked, tilting his chin up, watching Eames, a little color to his cheeks as if he thought he might be too bold.
Eames raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to answer. "I'm making mango-honey chicken. I eat a lot of honey," Arthur added, ducking his head, and Eames grinned.
"Absolutely. I would love to stay for dinner."
Arthur's kitchen towels were yellow with tiny bees on them ("Gift from my mother," he explained.) They ate on the steps of Arthur's back porch and watched the sun set. When the fireflies started to come out over the wildflower fields, Arthur said, "Do you, uh, want to help me make some madeleines?"
That was how Eames ended up making madeleines with lavender honey with a man he'd just met that week. They couldn't help sampling some of the honey.
After Arthur put the madeleines in the oven and set the timer, Eames pressed him against the counter and kissed him. For a moment, Arthur froze, and Eames nearly started to panic; then Arthur melted against him, with a soft sound, pulling him close. Eames chased the taste of sweetness on Arthur's tongue, a hand in the dark curls at the back of his head. Arthur put his hands under Eames' shirt and spread his fingers over Eames' skin.
When the timer went off, they both jumped like they'd been shocked.
That night in bed, his chin resting on Eames’ shoulder, Arthur explained the mating behavior of virgin queen bees and actually made it sound sexy. At first, he hadn't even been trying. It seemed to Eames that Arthur just made everything sexy.
Arthur put strawberries and honey in their oatmeal the next morning.
About three months later, Eames was finally stung by a bee, on his forearm while he was lying in the hammock. Arthur pulled out the stinger, applied a paste of baking soda and water, and got Eames some ice and ibuprofen to reduce swelling.
"Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?" he teased.
Eames wrapped his unstung arm around Arthur’s waist and pulled the man into his lap. “Always, darling.”
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