[FIC] Japanese Food - NC-17 - 757
Title: Japanese Food
Author: koushi
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 757
Disclaimer: I have no claim to Inception or any of its characters.
Summary: Things get a little hot and heavy in the elevator.
Note: Oral smut. Written for shiverelectric
The elevator doors slid shut. But that same mischievous grin remained on the forger’s face.
Saito reached for the button to the 4th floor but was accosted midway by the other man’s gentle yet firm grip on his wrist.
“They are waiting for us, Mr. Eames,” he said with a perplexed expression.
“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t expect to take long,” Eames replied, licking his upper lip smugly. “You look like you haven’t had a good time in awhile.”
“What are you referencing?” Saito asked, raising his eyebrow staunchly, his posture as stern and formal as always. But even he couldn’t help but betray the slightest hint of curiosity.
“You know what I mean,” Eames whispered softly as he stepped into Saito’s personal sphere, their bodies separated only by the most negligible of distances. He traced his ring finger coyly on Saito’s silk Yves St. Laurent tie, craning his head as if to share an intimate secret. “...And I know what you want.”
Saito stared at him, inadvertently hesitating in his reply. “I-I hope you are mistaken. This is not appropriate behavior between colleagues.”
“The only appropriate action here, love, would be for me to wrap these lips,” Eames pointed up at his thick, pink pillows, “around your rock hard cock.”
The vision of those succulent lips plumped yet further with the friction of his motions... No, Saito told himself, why are you thinking such things? He stepped in place awkwardly, having to adjust the discomfort forming in his trousers.
Eames took the cue. He studied mannerisms and body language for a living after all, and it wasn’t hard to tell when a subject was malleable putty in his expert fingers. He gave Saito’s earlobe a flick of the tongue before sliding down the man’s front, his hands gliding over the surface. He certainly does work out, Eames chuckled to himself as his fingertips met with the divots between solid abs.
“I must say,” he smiled, amused by his utter control as he undid Saito’s belt and the clasp of his pants with the dexterity of a veteran lockpicker, “I’ve never had Japanese before.”
Saito groaned, albeit quietly, as Eames released his pulsating length from the flap on his boxer-briefs. The door could open at any moment, he thought, simultaneously worried about his reputation and turned on even more, if possible, by the prospect of being discovered.
Eames continued, delighted with the length and girth of his new toy, “They say it’s healthy. That it’s fresh, light, and good for you. Well, I shall be the judge of that, mm?”
He started with light, teasing touches of the tongue, barely tickling the silent man’s head as he pulled his foreskin back with repetitive strokes, his fist wrapped around the base. Saito bit his lip, concentrating as hard as he could not to cry out. But god, oh god... it has been a long time, hasn’t it?
And then he was engulfed, wholly and deeply, his cock nestled between those reddened lips, buried to the hilt as the talented tongue danced around its totem pole. He gulped hard, knuckles turning white as they clutched the rails on the sides of the elevator, as if their support were the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle of unrestrained lust.
Eames worked into a rhythm, his warm wet oral cavern seeming to suck the strength right out of Saito, whose knees quivered as he did his best to stay still, unaffected. Needless to say, it was an exercise in futility.
As promised, he quickly felt the tug deep within his groin, the impending release. He wanted to buck against the forger’s mouth, fucking his face mercilessly, pulling him back and forth by the hair only to let go... completely... With no trace except for the sticky mess shooting down his throat.
But instead he simply exhaled, a deep guttural hum, as the climax blinded his vision. You’re definitely good, Mr. Eames, but I won’t let you see me break apart. At least, not yet.
“Not bad,” Eames commented after a swallow, “for health food.” He winked, rising up to slap the elevator button.
Saito fumbled with his drawers as they were transported upwards, clearing his throat and recomposing himself as the door opened to the correct floor. They rushed to the room, where the others were waiting impatiently.
“You came,” Cobb growled, annoyance apparent on his face, “finally.”
It took all Eames had not to laugh aloud as he watched his companion flush the loveliest shade of scarlet.
Author: koushi
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 757
Disclaimer: I have no claim to Inception or any of its characters.
Summary: Things get a little hot and heavy in the elevator.
Note: Oral smut. Written for shiverelectric
The elevator doors slid shut. But that same mischievous grin remained on the forger’s face.
Saito reached for the button to the 4th floor but was accosted midway by the other man’s gentle yet firm grip on his wrist.
“They are waiting for us, Mr. Eames,” he said with a perplexed expression.
“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t expect to take long,” Eames replied, licking his upper lip smugly. “You look like you haven’t had a good time in awhile.”
“What are you referencing?” Saito asked, raising his eyebrow staunchly, his posture as stern and formal as always. But even he couldn’t help but betray the slightest hint of curiosity.
“You know what I mean,” Eames whispered softly as he stepped into Saito’s personal sphere, their bodies separated only by the most negligible of distances. He traced his ring finger coyly on Saito’s silk Yves St. Laurent tie, craning his head as if to share an intimate secret. “...And I know what you want.”
Saito stared at him, inadvertently hesitating in his reply. “I-I hope you are mistaken. This is not appropriate behavior between colleagues.”
“The only appropriate action here, love, would be for me to wrap these lips,” Eames pointed up at his thick, pink pillows, “around your rock hard cock.”
The vision of those succulent lips plumped yet further with the friction of his motions... No, Saito told himself, why are you thinking such things? He stepped in place awkwardly, having to adjust the discomfort forming in his trousers.
Eames took the cue. He studied mannerisms and body language for a living after all, and it wasn’t hard to tell when a subject was malleable putty in his expert fingers. He gave Saito’s earlobe a flick of the tongue before sliding down the man’s front, his hands gliding over the surface. He certainly does work out, Eames chuckled to himself as his fingertips met with the divots between solid abs.
“I must say,” he smiled, amused by his utter control as he undid Saito’s belt and the clasp of his pants with the dexterity of a veteran lockpicker, “I’ve never had Japanese before.”
Saito groaned, albeit quietly, as Eames released his pulsating length from the flap on his boxer-briefs. The door could open at any moment, he thought, simultaneously worried about his reputation and turned on even more, if possible, by the prospect of being discovered.
Eames continued, delighted with the length and girth of his new toy, “They say it’s healthy. That it’s fresh, light, and good for you. Well, I shall be the judge of that, mm?”
He started with light, teasing touches of the tongue, barely tickling the silent man’s head as he pulled his foreskin back with repetitive strokes, his fist wrapped around the base. Saito bit his lip, concentrating as hard as he could not to cry out. But god, oh god... it has been a long time, hasn’t it?
And then he was engulfed, wholly and deeply, his cock nestled between those reddened lips, buried to the hilt as the talented tongue danced around its totem pole. He gulped hard, knuckles turning white as they clutched the rails on the sides of the elevator, as if their support were the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle of unrestrained lust.
Eames worked into a rhythm, his warm wet oral cavern seeming to suck the strength right out of Saito, whose knees quivered as he did his best to stay still, unaffected. Needless to say, it was an exercise in futility.
As promised, he quickly felt the tug deep within his groin, the impending release. He wanted to buck against the forger’s mouth, fucking his face mercilessly, pulling him back and forth by the hair only to let go... completely... With no trace except for the sticky mess shooting down his throat.
But instead he simply exhaled, a deep guttural hum, as the climax blinded his vision. You’re definitely good, Mr. Eames, but I won’t let you see me break apart. At least, not yet.
“Not bad,” Eames commented after a swallow, “for health food.” He winked, rising up to slap the elevator button.
Saito fumbled with his drawers as they were transported upwards, clearing his throat and recomposing himself as the door opened to the correct floor. They rushed to the room, where the others were waiting impatiently.
“You came,” Cobb growled, annoyance apparent on his face, “finally.”
It took all Eames had not to laugh aloud as he watched his companion flush the loveliest shade of scarlet.