Fic: Two Thumbs Up (2/5)
I'm a lot stressed today but I've talked and talked and talked about it to my RL friends so you guys are saved a rant or three from me! Lucky!
Anyway, as I told Risey, I had a fic-epiphany! With this idea, I can now write my porn with minimal plot, as long as you save the questions for later.
I suddenly feel like I've degraded the meaning of 'epiphany'.
Fic: Two Thumbs Up (2/5)
Author: J
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Highlight to see Warnings:Profanity, unbetaed, fake dub-con, fake coercion. This is my attempt at speed PWP.
Summary: Arthur takes on a job without realizing how much porn would be involved. Wtf?
Previous part here.
Arthur leaned against the window, swirling a glass of wine. He was on his third glass and quite enjoying the fruity tang that he had never tasted before up above.
It was a shame he couldn't get drunk because he knew they would soon start on the 'FML' portion of the job. Staring at his reflection, he toasted himself and his stupid trust in people.
The door opened behind him and he watched Eames slip into the room through the reflection in the window. Overlaid against the blurry landscape of nondescript buildings, the forger wandered closer with a distinct swagger.
"Care to share some of what you're having?"
Refusing to turn, Arthur met his eyes in the reflection. "Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice," said Eames, even as he lifted the glass from Arthur's hand.
He tossed the rest of it back like it was a shot, rather than a glass of expensive wine. Looked like Eames was going to play the classless asshole tonight then.
"Are you ready?" asked Eames.
His body was an intimidating line of heat up against Arthur's, not yet touching but close enough to be felt intensely.
"I don't want to do this," said Arthur quietly.
It was true...and not true at the same time. But it didn't matter. It fit their scenario.
Eames palmed the back of his neck, leaning on him. "You don't have to, darling, as long as you can live with losing your career."
Such drama. Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes.
He pressed a clenched fist against the cold window. "Fuck you."
"Gladly," Eames said agreeably. "Now take off your coat."
Without turning, Arthur unbuttoned and shrugged out of his Prada jacket. He let the gray piece drop to the floor, allowing himself this carelessness. Eames stepped to the side and eyed him blatantly, as if to admire the view his back now presented. The jacket no longer obscured the view to his closely-cut waistcoat and matching pants.
"Turn around for me."
He obeyed with a sharp, almost militant about-face.
Now, he couldn't avoid facing the fact that there were several studio cameras positioned on tripods and small cranes at strategic points throughout the room, all trained at the window. The two cameras directly above him particularly contributed to the invasive feeling. He glared at Eames, needing to concentrate on the one thing so as not to look at any of the recording cameras.
Eames was watching him with a smirk. "Lift your hands up."
Feeling more than a little foolish, he lifted his hands up slowly. He didn't go far before Eames was edging close, smoothing a hand down his front to stop at his waist.
Leaning in a little, Eames breathed in near his neck. "You smell good."
Arthur was startled into the truth. "It's Armani Code."
Eames only hummed, undoing the buttons of his waistcoat deftly from the bottom up. When Arthur made to remove it, Eames stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. The forger only smiled, a secretive curve of his plush lips. Then he was casually loosening Arthur's solid burgandy tie until it hung loose over his shoulders. Eames left that there as well and just untucked his shirt, pulling the shirttails from his pants. The larger man smoothed one hand under the back of his shirt, his palm startlingly warm compared to the cold press of glass.
He touched his other hand to Arthur's chest. "No undershirt it seems."
"What does it matter to you?" demanded Arthur, holding himself stiffly between Eames' hands.
"If you must know..." murmured Eames before suddenly tweaking Arthur's right nipple through his shirt.
He made a startled sound of surprise before biting down on his lower lip.
Eames pushed up against him and kissed him roughly, sucking on his lip until it felt swollen and tender.
"That's mine to bite on, darling," said Eames against his lips.
Then he was moving down, hand pressing the shirt fabric flat against the tweaked nipple before he nipped on it with bared teeth. Arthur fell back against the window, hands clenching at Eames' shoulders.
Eames looked up through thick lashes. "So's this."
Then he mouthed and sucked on the pointed flesh. Arthur, who never found his nipples to be overly sensitive, squirmed at the rasp of wet cloth against his aroused skin.
"Fuck, fuck, stop that," gasped Arthur. "You're...you're ruining my shirt."
Eames laughed against his chest helplessly, which only made Arthur fidget more and shove him away. Stumbling backwards, Eames held his hands up.
"Oh, my apologies. Should have thought of your fineries before I sucked on your tit," he laughed.
Arthur glared, hands clenched at his side. Eames' laughter died down and he was only smiling fondly now. He crowded Arthur against the window again, making sure to keep their bodies in full view to some of the cameras. With quick fingers, he undid the buttons on Arthur's shirt.
"Better?" he asked as he parted Arthur's shirt and rubbed affectionately at his peaked nipple with a rough thumb.
Arthur just ducked his head, refusing to answer him. He thought Eames must be smiling at his attempt to control his usually pushy and demanding ways.
His attempts to school his breathing and hardening arousal went to waste when Eames pressed a muscled thigh between his legs and rubbed provocatively.
"Now, let's move on to your trousers, pet."
TBC
THE PORN IS MOVING UNEXPECTEDLY SLOWLY BUT I PROMISE IT WILL SPEED UP IN THE NEXT PART AND I WILL HAVE THIS DONE IN THREE MORE PARTS, DAMNIT.
Sorry for the moment of fail-HTML. D:
Next part here.
Anyway, as I told Risey, I had a fic-epiphany! With this idea, I can now write my porn with minimal plot, as long as you save the questions for later.
I suddenly feel like I've degraded the meaning of 'epiphany'.
Fic: Two Thumbs Up (2/5)
Author: J
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Highlight to see Warnings:Profanity, unbetaed, fake dub-con, fake coercion. This is my attempt at speed PWP.
Summary: Arthur takes on a job without realizing how much porn would be involved. Wtf?
Previous part here.
Arthur leaned against the window, swirling a glass of wine. He was on his third glass and quite enjoying the fruity tang that he had never tasted before up above.
It was a shame he couldn't get drunk because he knew they would soon start on the 'FML' portion of the job. Staring at his reflection, he toasted himself and his stupid trust in people.
The door opened behind him and he watched Eames slip into the room through the reflection in the window. Overlaid against the blurry landscape of nondescript buildings, the forger wandered closer with a distinct swagger.
"Care to share some of what you're having?"
Refusing to turn, Arthur met his eyes in the reflection. "Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice," said Eames, even as he lifted the glass from Arthur's hand.
He tossed the rest of it back like it was a shot, rather than a glass of expensive wine. Looked like Eames was going to play the classless asshole tonight then.
"Are you ready?" asked Eames.
His body was an intimidating line of heat up against Arthur's, not yet touching but close enough to be felt intensely.
"I don't want to do this," said Arthur quietly.
It was true...and not true at the same time. But it didn't matter. It fit their scenario.
Eames palmed the back of his neck, leaning on him. "You don't have to, darling, as long as you can live with losing your career."
Such drama. Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes.
He pressed a clenched fist against the cold window. "Fuck you."
"Gladly," Eames said agreeably. "Now take off your coat."
Without turning, Arthur unbuttoned and shrugged out of his Prada jacket. He let the gray piece drop to the floor, allowing himself this carelessness. Eames stepped to the side and eyed him blatantly, as if to admire the view his back now presented. The jacket no longer obscured the view to his closely-cut waistcoat and matching pants.
"Turn around for me."
He obeyed with a sharp, almost militant about-face.
Now, he couldn't avoid facing the fact that there were several studio cameras positioned on tripods and small cranes at strategic points throughout the room, all trained at the window. The two cameras directly above him particularly contributed to the invasive feeling. He glared at Eames, needing to concentrate on the one thing so as not to look at any of the recording cameras.
Eames was watching him with a smirk. "Lift your hands up."
Feeling more than a little foolish, he lifted his hands up slowly. He didn't go far before Eames was edging close, smoothing a hand down his front to stop at his waist.
Leaning in a little, Eames breathed in near his neck. "You smell good."
Arthur was startled into the truth. "It's Armani Code."
Eames only hummed, undoing the buttons of his waistcoat deftly from the bottom up. When Arthur made to remove it, Eames stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. The forger only smiled, a secretive curve of his plush lips. Then he was casually loosening Arthur's solid burgandy tie until it hung loose over his shoulders. Eames left that there as well and just untucked his shirt, pulling the shirttails from his pants. The larger man smoothed one hand under the back of his shirt, his palm startlingly warm compared to the cold press of glass.
He touched his other hand to Arthur's chest. "No undershirt it seems."
"What does it matter to you?" demanded Arthur, holding himself stiffly between Eames' hands.
"If you must know..." murmured Eames before suddenly tweaking Arthur's right nipple through his shirt.
He made a startled sound of surprise before biting down on his lower lip.
Eames pushed up against him and kissed him roughly, sucking on his lip until it felt swollen and tender.
"That's mine to bite on, darling," said Eames against his lips.
Then he was moving down, hand pressing the shirt fabric flat against the tweaked nipple before he nipped on it with bared teeth. Arthur fell back against the window, hands clenching at Eames' shoulders.
Eames looked up through thick lashes. "So's this."
Then he mouthed and sucked on the pointed flesh. Arthur, who never found his nipples to be overly sensitive, squirmed at the rasp of wet cloth against his aroused skin.
"Fuck, fuck, stop that," gasped Arthur. "You're...you're ruining my shirt."
Eames laughed against his chest helplessly, which only made Arthur fidget more and shove him away. Stumbling backwards, Eames held his hands up.
"Oh, my apologies. Should have thought of your fineries before I sucked on your tit," he laughed.
Arthur glared, hands clenched at his side. Eames' laughter died down and he was only smiling fondly now. He crowded Arthur against the window again, making sure to keep their bodies in full view to some of the cameras. With quick fingers, he undid the buttons on Arthur's shirt.
"Better?" he asked as he parted Arthur's shirt and rubbed affectionately at his peaked nipple with a rough thumb.
Arthur just ducked his head, refusing to answer him. He thought Eames must be smiling at his attempt to control his usually pushy and demanding ways.
His attempts to school his breathing and hardening arousal went to waste when Eames pressed a muscled thigh between his legs and rubbed provocatively.
"Now, let's move on to your trousers, pet."
TBC
THE PORN IS MOVING UNEXPECTEDLY SLOWLY BUT I PROMISE IT WILL SPEED UP IN THE NEXT PART AND I WILL HAVE THIS DONE IN THREE MORE PARTS, DAMNIT.
Sorry for the moment of fail-HTML. D:
Next part here.