#425 - [FIC] The Devil in the Details (Browning/Eames)
Title: The Devil in the Details
Word Count: 1,021
Pairing: Browning/Eames
Rating: R for fairly undetailed sex
Summary: Written for this prompt on the kink meme: Eames is nothing if not thorough in learning how to copy Browning's mannerisms, and in the end, the best way to get the measure of a man is by knowing how he likes to fuck. Or be fucked.
Warnings: rumored incest and past pedophilia (nothing graphic---you don't even have to read the insinuation that way, necessarily)
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Author's Note: Originally posted here.
In Eames’ not so humble opinion, there’s only one way to measure a man in full and it can be done without a man of Arthur’s caliber on point. Say what you want, complicate matters as much as you like but there’s no need for fancy equipment, only enough money to cover the incidentals. Call it crude, pedestrian even, but it’s simple.
All it takes is a fuck. Share a man’s bed and he’ll spill all his secrets whether he knows it or not.
- - - - -
#1: The first detail is also the plainest and that’s where he takes you. It isn’t as simple as a toss-up between his home and his hotel room, but neither is it much more complicated. The key is not to assign objective quantifiers. There’s a subtlety to it, shades of meaning that differ with the man.
Peter Browning takes him the first time in his office with the blinds drawn and the coffee pot percolating in the background. He makes no promises of promotions or favor in the company. He lets Eames know he’d like to get his prick wet, and that’s more than enough.
It doesn’t surprise him that Browning can’t keep his work and his personal life separate. Eames has a feeling-only a hunch, mind-that he’s been fucking his pretty, lithe nephew after hours while the boy’s father dies in ignorance and infamy.
But it delights him when their next fuck takes him places Eames never expected. Peter takes him to a club that reeks of sex and booze to show him off and he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the attention, being dangled in front of these men and women.
He’d never been fucked with a pulsing crowd around him, but it’s something he could get used to.
- - - - -
#2: The second detail, when applicable, is what a man chooses to remove and what he decides to keep. It’s a guilty man who takes his tie off first, strangled by the silently tightening noose. Browning is many things, Eames knows, but guilty is not one of them.
His jacket is the first thing to come off, and to Eames’ mind, that makes perfect sense. Peter doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty but prefers to leave his sleeves out of it. Not as bold as he appears, and not half as brilliant as he is bold, but his manipulation is no less effective for it.
It’s less expected when Browning neglects to remove his heavy, gold watch. It leaves thin welts on Eames’ belly and thighs where his skin has been pinched between sections of the band, a small price to pay for the slick hand jerking him to completion.
Peter Browning is a rare man, as comfortable fucking in full dress as he is naked, and for that Eames must profess a degree of admiration. It’s not vanity, not really, but an acknowledgement of reality. There is no need for pretense; Eames need not find Peter attractive. He’ll give himself up if he wants to stay with the company, and they both know it.
Sometimes Eames wonders what the trade-off is for Robert. For the most part, though, he prefers not to dwell on it.
- - - - -
#3: The third detail is plain like the first and it concerns how he treats you once he’s finished. Does he kick you to the curb or cry into your shoulder? Offer you a shower or a drink? Maybe he smokes, maybe he doesn’t, and maybe he just wants another go.
It’s not self-assured men that leave their lovers, whether visiting dignitaries or common whores, at the end of the act. The issue gets clouded in machismo, but Eames doesn’t fuck around with misconception. It’s a feather in Browning’s cap when he gets pulled close for a post-coital cuddle.
This is probably how he’s accustomed to treating Robert, but it comes naturally enough. Eames is content to forgo his after-the-fuck fag for the slow, deep kisses Browning presses on him before suggesting they clean up.
Peter Browning lives in accordance with the rules of reciprocity, when it suits him. One hand washes the other, provided it isn’t too laden with filth. He shows it by the way he goes down on his knees in the shower and takes Eames’ prick in his mouth. He’s even permitted to finish like that, sagging back against the support rail, although all activity prior to this moment has been conducted with latex between them. Peter is a shrewd businessman but he’s too quick to trust after a good lay.
Eames thinks he might like this detail best of all.
- - - - -
#4: The fourth and final detail has nothing to do with the fuck itself, only what he keeps in his wallet. But if there’s any time a man’s likely to show you that, it’s then.
Eames jokes about wanting to make sure he’s not got a wife and kids stashed away somewhere and Browning just smiles from the bed. He’s never been married, but it’s not what Eames is looking for, anyway, as he rifles through bank and business cards.
It’s not long before he finds what he’s looking for, alerted by the glossy texture beneath his fingertips-a picture of Robert. Hardly surprising, but it’s not the fact that it is Robert that interests him. The Robert in the old polaroid he’s holding isn’t even a man yet, maybe ten or eleven, and that’s what piques his interest.
Peter Browning isn’t the kind of man who simply forgets to update his nephew’s photo for twenty five years.
Eames puts it back and leaves while Peter is asleep. He’s gotten more than what he needs. As he takes a cab back to his motel, he thinks of something someone told him when he was a boy. The devil, they said, is in the details.
He doesn’t know if he believes it or not but he thinks there’s just a touch of the devil in Peter Browning, all the same.
Word Count: 1,021
Pairing: Browning/Eames
Rating: R for fairly undetailed sex
Summary: Written for this prompt on the kink meme: Eames is nothing if not thorough in learning how to copy Browning's mannerisms, and in the end, the best way to get the measure of a man is by knowing how he likes to fuck. Or be fucked.
Warnings: rumored incest and past pedophilia (nothing graphic---you don't even have to read the insinuation that way, necessarily)
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Author's Note: Originally posted here.
In Eames’ not so humble opinion, there’s only one way to measure a man in full and it can be done without a man of Arthur’s caliber on point. Say what you want, complicate matters as much as you like but there’s no need for fancy equipment, only enough money to cover the incidentals. Call it crude, pedestrian even, but it’s simple.
All it takes is a fuck. Share a man’s bed and he’ll spill all his secrets whether he knows it or not.
- - - - -
#1: The first detail is also the plainest and that’s where he takes you. It isn’t as simple as a toss-up between his home and his hotel room, but neither is it much more complicated. The key is not to assign objective quantifiers. There’s a subtlety to it, shades of meaning that differ with the man.
Peter Browning takes him the first time in his office with the blinds drawn and the coffee pot percolating in the background. He makes no promises of promotions or favor in the company. He lets Eames know he’d like to get his prick wet, and that’s more than enough.
It doesn’t surprise him that Browning can’t keep his work and his personal life separate. Eames has a feeling-only a hunch, mind-that he’s been fucking his pretty, lithe nephew after hours while the boy’s father dies in ignorance and infamy.
But it delights him when their next fuck takes him places Eames never expected. Peter takes him to a club that reeks of sex and booze to show him off and he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the attention, being dangled in front of these men and women.
He’d never been fucked with a pulsing crowd around him, but it’s something he could get used to.
- - - - -
#2: The second detail, when applicable, is what a man chooses to remove and what he decides to keep. It’s a guilty man who takes his tie off first, strangled by the silently tightening noose. Browning is many things, Eames knows, but guilty is not one of them.
His jacket is the first thing to come off, and to Eames’ mind, that makes perfect sense. Peter doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty but prefers to leave his sleeves out of it. Not as bold as he appears, and not half as brilliant as he is bold, but his manipulation is no less effective for it.
It’s less expected when Browning neglects to remove his heavy, gold watch. It leaves thin welts on Eames’ belly and thighs where his skin has been pinched between sections of the band, a small price to pay for the slick hand jerking him to completion.
Peter Browning is a rare man, as comfortable fucking in full dress as he is naked, and for that Eames must profess a degree of admiration. It’s not vanity, not really, but an acknowledgement of reality. There is no need for pretense; Eames need not find Peter attractive. He’ll give himself up if he wants to stay with the company, and they both know it.
Sometimes Eames wonders what the trade-off is for Robert. For the most part, though, he prefers not to dwell on it.
- - - - -
#3: The third detail is plain like the first and it concerns how he treats you once he’s finished. Does he kick you to the curb or cry into your shoulder? Offer you a shower or a drink? Maybe he smokes, maybe he doesn’t, and maybe he just wants another go.
It’s not self-assured men that leave their lovers, whether visiting dignitaries or common whores, at the end of the act. The issue gets clouded in machismo, but Eames doesn’t fuck around with misconception. It’s a feather in Browning’s cap when he gets pulled close for a post-coital cuddle.
This is probably how he’s accustomed to treating Robert, but it comes naturally enough. Eames is content to forgo his after-the-fuck fag for the slow, deep kisses Browning presses on him before suggesting they clean up.
Peter Browning lives in accordance with the rules of reciprocity, when it suits him. One hand washes the other, provided it isn’t too laden with filth. He shows it by the way he goes down on his knees in the shower and takes Eames’ prick in his mouth. He’s even permitted to finish like that, sagging back against the support rail, although all activity prior to this moment has been conducted with latex between them. Peter is a shrewd businessman but he’s too quick to trust after a good lay.
Eames thinks he might like this detail best of all.
- - - - -
#4: The fourth and final detail has nothing to do with the fuck itself, only what he keeps in his wallet. But if there’s any time a man’s likely to show you that, it’s then.
Eames jokes about wanting to make sure he’s not got a wife and kids stashed away somewhere and Browning just smiles from the bed. He’s never been married, but it’s not what Eames is looking for, anyway, as he rifles through bank and business cards.
It’s not long before he finds what he’s looking for, alerted by the glossy texture beneath his fingertips-a picture of Robert. Hardly surprising, but it’s not the fact that it is Robert that interests him. The Robert in the old polaroid he’s holding isn’t even a man yet, maybe ten or eleven, and that’s what piques his interest.
Peter Browning isn’t the kind of man who simply forgets to update his nephew’s photo for twenty five years.
Eames puts it back and leaves while Peter is asleep. He’s gotten more than what he needs. As he takes a cab back to his motel, he thinks of something someone told him when he was a boy. The devil, they said, is in the details.
He doesn’t know if he believes it or not but he thinks there’s just a touch of the devil in Peter Browning, all the same.