Inception/Mysterious Skin - Every Me and Every You (11/30)
Title: Every Me and Every You (11/30)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 3,189
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
The rest of the drive back to Neil's apartment was silent. The PASIV sat between him and Eames as a sort of barrier, one that Neil felt like he couldn't cross it at that time. The air between them was too thick with expectation of what would occur once they were safe behind closed doors, of what would happen after the sun came up.
The car pulled to a stop and Eames got out first. Neil followed suit and couldn't help but be a little startled by the way the car zoomed off into the night so quickly. He looked back at Eames and hesitated, then led the way up to the door.
"So," he said as he unlocked and got them into the lobby, "what about all of your stuff back at the hotel?"
"It's in Wyatt's car. He'll ship it to my home in Mombasa since he'll be staying here a little bit longer than the rest of us."
"Why?"
"Simple," Eames replied, heading up the stairs. "He has to give the information to our employer."
"Oh… so when do we get paid?" Neil asked, following him up the steps.
"The money should show up in the bank account I set up for you in about a week, I suppose," Eames said. "I've got all the paperwork you'll need on that to be mailed here in three days so keep your eye out for it, yeah?"
Neil stayed silent the rest of the trip up the steps, unlocking his and Wendy's door and letting the man inside when they arrived. They moved quietly because Wendy was asleep, slipping into Neil's room and shutting the door.
Neil flicked on a light and took the PASIV from Eames, cramming it into a back corner of his closet and tossing some dirty clothes over it. He doubted anyone would come looking for it in this place, but if they did, he wasn't going to leave it sitting out in the open. He turned around as he heard the mattress squeak and found Eames to be sitting on a corner of it, coat in his lap, looking a bit… concerned.
Neil opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, but Eames answered him before he had to. "What Cameron said back there… about how you got the information that you did… was that the truth?"
Neil's shoulders slumped a little, and he stalled by removing his own coat and hanging it up, then sliding out of his blazer. "If it was," he mumbled, "would it cause you to leave?"
Eames shook his head, and Neil tried not to look at him as he slid his tie off and tossed it over the top of his dresser where he'd set the blazer. "I just want to know why you would…" Eames tried to say, but he was clearly struggling for words.
"Look, it's not like I wanted to, all right?" Neil said, focusing on the buttons of his waistcoat. "He just… When I showed up he mistook me for a prostitute, so I went with it. It's not like I haven't tasted dick before."
Open wide and suck it, slut.
Neil squeezed his eyes shut and shook the words out of his skull with a jerk of his head. When Eames's expression turned questionable, Neil just blamed it on feeling like he had to sneeze. "So," Neil continued, as he undid the buttons on his shirt, "you won't leave, but you're going to think less of me, right?"
"I don't think less of you," Eames replied softly. "The dreamshare way of obtaining information is less than savory. I mean, that's why what we do is a crime… I know you did what you thought you had to. I just feel bad for putting you in that position."
"You didn't put me in that position," Neil scoffed, tossing the shirt carelessly on top of the rest of the clothes. "I went there on my own. Don't act like you control the things I do, Eames."
Eames stood and approached Neil. "I don't control the things you do. I never suggested that. I was the one who put you to the challenge though, even though I hadn't meant to, and that was how you ended up there. If I hadn't existed in your life, you wouldn't have been in that spot on that day."
Neil looked away, jaw set, and said, "Yeah, I'd just be sucking less expensive dick."
Eames grabbed Neil by the arms with enough force that it made Neil look back at him. He felt like he'd almost coughed up his stomach from the sudden fear that jolted through him, and he had to swallow it back down to its proper place. He stared into Eames's eyes, both of them silent for a long time.
Then, Eames let him go and paced across the floor, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. "I just don't understand you sometimes, you know? Am I really the only person who's ever come through for you? You honestly think you'd continue to be a prostitute if it weren't for me?"
"It makes more money than the sub shop."
SLUT.
Neil shook his head again, but before Eames could ask he said, "What does it matter to you? I mean… this really seems to bother you, don't you think? You knew what I was from the beginning, and you know what I'm like if you're as observant as you say you are. I'm not ashamed of how I can use sex to my advantage. I don't care if I have to suck a dick or put my fingers in someone's ass or whatever, you know? It's just part of the job, and it's something I'm good at, and… people misunderstand… I guess. It's a dirty job but someone's got to do it, and who better than a guy like me who loves fucking the old, ugly guys no one else gives a shit about?"
Eames shook his head. He was smiling but it was surprisingly bitter. "Oh, darling…" he said softly. "You're so full of shit your eyes should be brown."
Neil was taken aback by the statement, and he clenched his fists and said, "I don't have to explain myself to you. I don't expect you to understand-"
"-but I do understand," Eames interrupted, "because I am as observant as I say I am. The only reason you whore yourself out is because someone made you feel like it's all you can do, and even though I know that's not true and I know somewhere inside you know it isn't either, you're too afraid to step away from that state of mind because you're not sure what's waiting for you on the other side. Someone hurt you, maybe more than one person. I don't know why and I don't know how, but I know that you were hurt."
"You don't know my life-" Neil started to shout but Eames approached him again and pulled him close, and suddenly all the air seemed to rush out of Neil's body.
"You know," Eames said softly, "you are allowed to be loved without being possessed."
It was at that point that Neil started to shake, and no matter how he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Eames held onto him like they would go spiraling off into the abyss, and Neil was pretty sure he was saying something but couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears.
When he came back to his senses he was lying on the bed, cocooned in Eames's arms, and the man was gently shushing him and telling him everything was all right. Neil stopped trembling and just laid there silently for a moment before Eames said, "Are you back with us?"
Neil couldn't think of a smartass response, so he just nodded his head and felt Eames brush a tear off of the side of his face.
"You don't have to tell me anything," Eames said, carding a hand through Neil's hair, "but you should talk to someone about whatever it is that's torturing you like this. I hate to see you this way."
Neil breathed in and out, counting them: one, two, three, four. He sat up slowly and looked down at Eames, at his soft lips and eyes that seemed to see everything from the past, present, and future all at once.
"What will it change?" Neil asked.
Eames shrugged, rolling onto his back. "I honestly don't know. It might not change anything, but it seems worth it enough to try, don't you think?"
Neil wasn't sure if it was or not. He really didn't feel that sure about anything anymore at this point.
He did know two things though-Eames was here tonight, and Eames wouldn't be here tomorrow, so he figured he should make the best of the situation.
Besides, he was tired of talking about himself.
He leaned over Eames and pressed a tentative kiss to the man's lips. Eames seemed to take a moment to question if this was a good idea, but then Neil was sliding his tongue along his bottom lip and Eames was opening up for him, inhaling slowly through his nose as he slotted his mouth with Neil's. Neil wondered if he'd ever get tired of the way Eames kissed him, or if he'd ever understand why he felt so new and inexperienced when it happened.
Neil pressed himself against Eames, letting their legs interlock, and then he ventured forth a little to grind against Eames's thigh. It reminded him of the other night in the living room that Wendy had interrupted before it could really go anywhere.
"You like him."
Neil broke the kiss and was going to say something, but then Eames started pressing kisses along the line of his jaw and down his neck causing him to forget. Eames paused at the collarbone and Neil sat back, removing his undershirt and tossing it on the floor, and then he dove back down for another kiss as he started working off his own belt.
Eames rolled Neil over until he was the one on his back and smiled fondly at the dazed, slightly startled expression he'd gotten in return. He then loosed the buttons on his own shirt and let it fall to the floor, and Neil almost made an obscene sound because of it.
He didn't know why he hadn't expected it, but Eames had at least a dozen tattoos. He couldn't help but grin and long to taste all of them until he'd memorized where they were. He couldn't help but appreciate the artistry, considering many of the ugly, god awful tattoos he'd seen on various johns in the past.
It only took a few more minutes before both of them were naked and wrapped around each other, kissing and touching. Neil had gotten so practiced in his hustling that he couldn't help but ask, "What do you want me to do?"
Eames pressed a lingering kiss at the top of Neil's cheekbone. "Well, I do owe you a blow job," he offered, laughing a bit breathlessly against Neil's skin, "but what would you like?"
Momentarily Neil was caught off guard because he was hardly ever asked (and when he was it was usually just a formality). He replied with the answer he'd always supplied-a lazy grin and a, "Whatever."
Eames sat back and looked down at Neil, and Neil stared up at him through the mussed, greasy strands of hair that had long fallen out of their slicked back state. Neil could tell Eames was thinking about what he might like to do, and Neil wasn't so hard that he didn't care to wait, so he laid there, breathing softly, stroking himself occasionally.
"Do you have anything? Lubricant? Condoms?"
Neil scrunched up his face as he tried to remember. He'd never really been one to buy protection because he'd never really cared, but he was pretty sure Wendy had bought him a package at some point. He didn't know where it was though.
He sighed, getting up and digging through his dresser drawers for a few minutes and finally managed to find it, tossing the condoms onto the bed. He paused for a moment, then said, "Be right back," and left the bedroom, retrieving a bottle of lotion from the bathroom. He was glad he didn't wake Wendy in the process because she would probably never let him live this down.
He returned to the bedroom and tossed the bottle of lotion to Eames before spreading himself out on the bed again. "So, what's happening here?" he asked, folding his hands behind his head.
Eames swallowed, and Neil couldn't help but revel in the way his pupils had dilated and the way his cheeks had reddened. "I'd… I'd like to fuck you," Eames said, "if that's all right."
Neil rolled his eyes and then turned so that he was on his stomach. "Jeez, it's not like I've never been fucked before. Are you British people always so goddamned polite?"
Eames grabbed him gently by the arm and rolled him back onto his back, staring into his eyes. "It's not about politeness," Eames said, and Neil didn't ask him what it was about. "I'd like it if you stayed like this. I'd like to see you…" Eames slid his hand down Neil's chest, his touch feather-light.
No one had ever asked that of Neil before, but he nodded and let his legs fall open.
Eames leaned over and kissed Neil again and then slicked his fingers with a generous amount of lotion. He started with just one, and Neil was a little surprised by how tight he'd gotten in the month or so he'd gone without. It made his mouth go dry when he remembered the last time someone had been inside, but he calmed the panicked thump-thumping of his heart by silently reminding himself that this was not that time. He closed his eyes as Eames started to work him open, taking Neil's cock into his plush mouth to help keep him pliant and relaxed. Eames appeared to be as good at sucking dick as he was at kissing, and Neil thought that he'd be happy to come just from this at some point, but not tonight.
Eames took his time though, which was weird in and of itself, but with his previous bed partners in the past Neil had usually been on a sort of time limit. He let Eames do as he wanted, finding that he didn't really have to fake his own enjoyment of the situation like he did with some. It was clear from the beginning that Eames wasn't looking just to satisfy his own desires. He was searching for specific ways to make Neil whimper and moan, doing them again and looking pleased when he succeeded in finding one.
"Does it feel good?" he asked, voice deeper and sounding like it had been wrapped around a cigarette just moments before. Neil wanted to lick the smoke from Eames's taste buds.
"Yeah, feels nice," Neil said, and he meant it. "Feels real good."
Eames smiled boyishly and pecked him on the lips before removing his fingers. He rolled on a condom and spread the lubricant over it leisurely, and then he lined up with Neil's entrance. "If you want me to stop at any time," he said, "tell me, all right?"
Neil swallowed the knot that formed in his throat at that and nodded. "Okay," he said. "Just… yeah. Okay."
Eames pushed in slowly, only letting the head of his cock push past the ring of muscle at first. He stroked Neil's shaking thighs gently until he was relaxed enough to take more. It was only once Eames had slid in to the hilt that Neil said, "You don't have to treat me like some delicate flower."
"Maybe I like treating you like a delicate flower," Eames teased and thrust his hips a little, letting the head of his cock brush against Neil's prostate and causing Neil to gasp a little. "I think things always turn out better if they start out slow," Eames explained as he pulled back and pushed in again, and Neil's eyes rolled back in his head as he thumped the back of his skull against the mattress. "I imagine it's not quite what you're used to, but I don't think I'm quite your typical fodder either, now am I?"
"Why are you talking instead of fucking me?" Neil asked, letting out a breathless chuckle when Eames lightly smacked him on the thigh.
"Patience is a virtue, darling."
"So is chastity," Neil replied, and Eames laughed before rocking his hips forward into him again.
Neil got a bit lost after that, forgetting space and time as Eames continued to fuck him, gradually picking up his rhythm but never forgetting to touch and to kiss him at a moment that seemed opportune. Neil wasn't sure he'd ever been fucked quite like this before, but at this point he didn't really have the mental capacity to dwell on it much. Eames stroked him in rhythm with his thrusts, and Neil let his legs wrap around the man's waist, let the man practically bend him in half in order to kiss him. It just felt so good to be touched and kissed and fucked again after so much time. He hadn't gone long without sex since he was fifteen, and it felt fantastic not just because it was happening again but because it felt like it should.
When Eames was fucking him, Neil didn't think about Brighton Beach or Coach or Brian.
Every single one of his senses was too preoccupied with Eames. The feel of him under Neil's fingers and sliding in and out of Neil's body, the taste of him on Neil's tongue, the smell of his sweat and cologne mingling together, the sound of his moans and grunts and panting breaths, and the sight of that gorgeous face caught up in the bliss of the moment that still had eyes for Neil despite everything.
Neil wanted it to last forever.
He came when Eames's hips stuttered out of rhythm and he draped himself over Neil, groaning until he was spent, and Neil could feel come pooling on his stomach. He felt rather than saw Eames's hand release Neil's cock, sliding through the mess, and he watched through half-lidded eyes as the man pulled out and leaned over to kiss Neil again.
"All right?" Eames asked, and it took a couple of seconds for Neil to even process what that meant.
"Yeah…" he drawled sleepily.
Eames wiped up the mess with a sock he found on the floor, tossed the used condom in the bin, and crawled back into bed. Normally Neil thought it was stupid when his sexual partners spooned with him afterwards, finding it a bit ridiculously sentimental, but with Eames it was okay.
The last thing Neil remembered before falling asleep was the sound of Eames turning off the light and the feel of him pressing a kiss to the back of Neil's neck.
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 3,189
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
The rest of the drive back to Neil's apartment was silent. The PASIV sat between him and Eames as a sort of barrier, one that Neil felt like he couldn't cross it at that time. The air between them was too thick with expectation of what would occur once they were safe behind closed doors, of what would happen after the sun came up.
The car pulled to a stop and Eames got out first. Neil followed suit and couldn't help but be a little startled by the way the car zoomed off into the night so quickly. He looked back at Eames and hesitated, then led the way up to the door.
"So," he said as he unlocked and got them into the lobby, "what about all of your stuff back at the hotel?"
"It's in Wyatt's car. He'll ship it to my home in Mombasa since he'll be staying here a little bit longer than the rest of us."
"Why?"
"Simple," Eames replied, heading up the stairs. "He has to give the information to our employer."
"Oh… so when do we get paid?" Neil asked, following him up the steps.
"The money should show up in the bank account I set up for you in about a week, I suppose," Eames said. "I've got all the paperwork you'll need on that to be mailed here in three days so keep your eye out for it, yeah?"
Neil stayed silent the rest of the trip up the steps, unlocking his and Wendy's door and letting the man inside when they arrived. They moved quietly because Wendy was asleep, slipping into Neil's room and shutting the door.
Neil flicked on a light and took the PASIV from Eames, cramming it into a back corner of his closet and tossing some dirty clothes over it. He doubted anyone would come looking for it in this place, but if they did, he wasn't going to leave it sitting out in the open. He turned around as he heard the mattress squeak and found Eames to be sitting on a corner of it, coat in his lap, looking a bit… concerned.
Neil opened his mouth to ask what the problem was, but Eames answered him before he had to. "What Cameron said back there… about how you got the information that you did… was that the truth?"
Neil's shoulders slumped a little, and he stalled by removing his own coat and hanging it up, then sliding out of his blazer. "If it was," he mumbled, "would it cause you to leave?"
Eames shook his head, and Neil tried not to look at him as he slid his tie off and tossed it over the top of his dresser where he'd set the blazer. "I just want to know why you would…" Eames tried to say, but he was clearly struggling for words.
"Look, it's not like I wanted to, all right?" Neil said, focusing on the buttons of his waistcoat. "He just… When I showed up he mistook me for a prostitute, so I went with it. It's not like I haven't tasted dick before."
Open wide and suck it, slut.
Neil squeezed his eyes shut and shook the words out of his skull with a jerk of his head. When Eames's expression turned questionable, Neil just blamed it on feeling like he had to sneeze. "So," Neil continued, as he undid the buttons on his shirt, "you won't leave, but you're going to think less of me, right?"
"I don't think less of you," Eames replied softly. "The dreamshare way of obtaining information is less than savory. I mean, that's why what we do is a crime… I know you did what you thought you had to. I just feel bad for putting you in that position."
"You didn't put me in that position," Neil scoffed, tossing the shirt carelessly on top of the rest of the clothes. "I went there on my own. Don't act like you control the things I do, Eames."
Eames stood and approached Neil. "I don't control the things you do. I never suggested that. I was the one who put you to the challenge though, even though I hadn't meant to, and that was how you ended up there. If I hadn't existed in your life, you wouldn't have been in that spot on that day."
Neil looked away, jaw set, and said, "Yeah, I'd just be sucking less expensive dick."
Eames grabbed Neil by the arms with enough force that it made Neil look back at him. He felt like he'd almost coughed up his stomach from the sudden fear that jolted through him, and he had to swallow it back down to its proper place. He stared into Eames's eyes, both of them silent for a long time.
Then, Eames let him go and paced across the floor, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. "I just don't understand you sometimes, you know? Am I really the only person who's ever come through for you? You honestly think you'd continue to be a prostitute if it weren't for me?"
"It makes more money than the sub shop."
SLUT.
Neil shook his head again, but before Eames could ask he said, "What does it matter to you? I mean… this really seems to bother you, don't you think? You knew what I was from the beginning, and you know what I'm like if you're as observant as you say you are. I'm not ashamed of how I can use sex to my advantage. I don't care if I have to suck a dick or put my fingers in someone's ass or whatever, you know? It's just part of the job, and it's something I'm good at, and… people misunderstand… I guess. It's a dirty job but someone's got to do it, and who better than a guy like me who loves fucking the old, ugly guys no one else gives a shit about?"
Eames shook his head. He was smiling but it was surprisingly bitter. "Oh, darling…" he said softly. "You're so full of shit your eyes should be brown."
Neil was taken aback by the statement, and he clenched his fists and said, "I don't have to explain myself to you. I don't expect you to understand-"
"-but I do understand," Eames interrupted, "because I am as observant as I say I am. The only reason you whore yourself out is because someone made you feel like it's all you can do, and even though I know that's not true and I know somewhere inside you know it isn't either, you're too afraid to step away from that state of mind because you're not sure what's waiting for you on the other side. Someone hurt you, maybe more than one person. I don't know why and I don't know how, but I know that you were hurt."
"You don't know my life-" Neil started to shout but Eames approached him again and pulled him close, and suddenly all the air seemed to rush out of Neil's body.
"You know," Eames said softly, "you are allowed to be loved without being possessed."
It was at that point that Neil started to shake, and no matter how he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Eames held onto him like they would go spiraling off into the abyss, and Neil was pretty sure he was saying something but couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears.
When he came back to his senses he was lying on the bed, cocooned in Eames's arms, and the man was gently shushing him and telling him everything was all right. Neil stopped trembling and just laid there silently for a moment before Eames said, "Are you back with us?"
Neil couldn't think of a smartass response, so he just nodded his head and felt Eames brush a tear off of the side of his face.
"You don't have to tell me anything," Eames said, carding a hand through Neil's hair, "but you should talk to someone about whatever it is that's torturing you like this. I hate to see you this way."
Neil breathed in and out, counting them: one, two, three, four. He sat up slowly and looked down at Eames, at his soft lips and eyes that seemed to see everything from the past, present, and future all at once.
"What will it change?" Neil asked.
Eames shrugged, rolling onto his back. "I honestly don't know. It might not change anything, but it seems worth it enough to try, don't you think?"
Neil wasn't sure if it was or not. He really didn't feel that sure about anything anymore at this point.
He did know two things though-Eames was here tonight, and Eames wouldn't be here tomorrow, so he figured he should make the best of the situation.
Besides, he was tired of talking about himself.
He leaned over Eames and pressed a tentative kiss to the man's lips. Eames seemed to take a moment to question if this was a good idea, but then Neil was sliding his tongue along his bottom lip and Eames was opening up for him, inhaling slowly through his nose as he slotted his mouth with Neil's. Neil wondered if he'd ever get tired of the way Eames kissed him, or if he'd ever understand why he felt so new and inexperienced when it happened.
Neil pressed himself against Eames, letting their legs interlock, and then he ventured forth a little to grind against Eames's thigh. It reminded him of the other night in the living room that Wendy had interrupted before it could really go anywhere.
"You like him."
Neil broke the kiss and was going to say something, but then Eames started pressing kisses along the line of his jaw and down his neck causing him to forget. Eames paused at the collarbone and Neil sat back, removing his undershirt and tossing it on the floor, and then he dove back down for another kiss as he started working off his own belt.
Eames rolled Neil over until he was the one on his back and smiled fondly at the dazed, slightly startled expression he'd gotten in return. He then loosed the buttons on his own shirt and let it fall to the floor, and Neil almost made an obscene sound because of it.
He didn't know why he hadn't expected it, but Eames had at least a dozen tattoos. He couldn't help but grin and long to taste all of them until he'd memorized where they were. He couldn't help but appreciate the artistry, considering many of the ugly, god awful tattoos he'd seen on various johns in the past.
It only took a few more minutes before both of them were naked and wrapped around each other, kissing and touching. Neil had gotten so practiced in his hustling that he couldn't help but ask, "What do you want me to do?"
Eames pressed a lingering kiss at the top of Neil's cheekbone. "Well, I do owe you a blow job," he offered, laughing a bit breathlessly against Neil's skin, "but what would you like?"
Momentarily Neil was caught off guard because he was hardly ever asked (and when he was it was usually just a formality). He replied with the answer he'd always supplied-a lazy grin and a, "Whatever."
Eames sat back and looked down at Neil, and Neil stared up at him through the mussed, greasy strands of hair that had long fallen out of their slicked back state. Neil could tell Eames was thinking about what he might like to do, and Neil wasn't so hard that he didn't care to wait, so he laid there, breathing softly, stroking himself occasionally.
"Do you have anything? Lubricant? Condoms?"
Neil scrunched up his face as he tried to remember. He'd never really been one to buy protection because he'd never really cared, but he was pretty sure Wendy had bought him a package at some point. He didn't know where it was though.
He sighed, getting up and digging through his dresser drawers for a few minutes and finally managed to find it, tossing the condoms onto the bed. He paused for a moment, then said, "Be right back," and left the bedroom, retrieving a bottle of lotion from the bathroom. He was glad he didn't wake Wendy in the process because she would probably never let him live this down.
He returned to the bedroom and tossed the bottle of lotion to Eames before spreading himself out on the bed again. "So, what's happening here?" he asked, folding his hands behind his head.
Eames swallowed, and Neil couldn't help but revel in the way his pupils had dilated and the way his cheeks had reddened. "I'd… I'd like to fuck you," Eames said, "if that's all right."
Neil rolled his eyes and then turned so that he was on his stomach. "Jeez, it's not like I've never been fucked before. Are you British people always so goddamned polite?"
Eames grabbed him gently by the arm and rolled him back onto his back, staring into his eyes. "It's not about politeness," Eames said, and Neil didn't ask him what it was about. "I'd like it if you stayed like this. I'd like to see you…" Eames slid his hand down Neil's chest, his touch feather-light.
No one had ever asked that of Neil before, but he nodded and let his legs fall open.
Eames leaned over and kissed Neil again and then slicked his fingers with a generous amount of lotion. He started with just one, and Neil was a little surprised by how tight he'd gotten in the month or so he'd gone without. It made his mouth go dry when he remembered the last time someone had been inside, but he calmed the panicked thump-thumping of his heart by silently reminding himself that this was not that time. He closed his eyes as Eames started to work him open, taking Neil's cock into his plush mouth to help keep him pliant and relaxed. Eames appeared to be as good at sucking dick as he was at kissing, and Neil thought that he'd be happy to come just from this at some point, but not tonight.
Eames took his time though, which was weird in and of itself, but with his previous bed partners in the past Neil had usually been on a sort of time limit. He let Eames do as he wanted, finding that he didn't really have to fake his own enjoyment of the situation like he did with some. It was clear from the beginning that Eames wasn't looking just to satisfy his own desires. He was searching for specific ways to make Neil whimper and moan, doing them again and looking pleased when he succeeded in finding one.
"Does it feel good?" he asked, voice deeper and sounding like it had been wrapped around a cigarette just moments before. Neil wanted to lick the smoke from Eames's taste buds.
"Yeah, feels nice," Neil said, and he meant it. "Feels real good."
Eames smiled boyishly and pecked him on the lips before removing his fingers. He rolled on a condom and spread the lubricant over it leisurely, and then he lined up with Neil's entrance. "If you want me to stop at any time," he said, "tell me, all right?"
Neil swallowed the knot that formed in his throat at that and nodded. "Okay," he said. "Just… yeah. Okay."
Eames pushed in slowly, only letting the head of his cock push past the ring of muscle at first. He stroked Neil's shaking thighs gently until he was relaxed enough to take more. It was only once Eames had slid in to the hilt that Neil said, "You don't have to treat me like some delicate flower."
"Maybe I like treating you like a delicate flower," Eames teased and thrust his hips a little, letting the head of his cock brush against Neil's prostate and causing Neil to gasp a little. "I think things always turn out better if they start out slow," Eames explained as he pulled back and pushed in again, and Neil's eyes rolled back in his head as he thumped the back of his skull against the mattress. "I imagine it's not quite what you're used to, but I don't think I'm quite your typical fodder either, now am I?"
"Why are you talking instead of fucking me?" Neil asked, letting out a breathless chuckle when Eames lightly smacked him on the thigh.
"Patience is a virtue, darling."
"So is chastity," Neil replied, and Eames laughed before rocking his hips forward into him again.
Neil got a bit lost after that, forgetting space and time as Eames continued to fuck him, gradually picking up his rhythm but never forgetting to touch and to kiss him at a moment that seemed opportune. Neil wasn't sure he'd ever been fucked quite like this before, but at this point he didn't really have the mental capacity to dwell on it much. Eames stroked him in rhythm with his thrusts, and Neil let his legs wrap around the man's waist, let the man practically bend him in half in order to kiss him. It just felt so good to be touched and kissed and fucked again after so much time. He hadn't gone long without sex since he was fifteen, and it felt fantastic not just because it was happening again but because it felt like it should.
When Eames was fucking him, Neil didn't think about Brighton Beach or Coach or Brian.
Every single one of his senses was too preoccupied with Eames. The feel of him under Neil's fingers and sliding in and out of Neil's body, the taste of him on Neil's tongue, the smell of his sweat and cologne mingling together, the sound of his moans and grunts and panting breaths, and the sight of that gorgeous face caught up in the bliss of the moment that still had eyes for Neil despite everything.
Neil wanted it to last forever.
He came when Eames's hips stuttered out of rhythm and he draped himself over Neil, groaning until he was spent, and Neil could feel come pooling on his stomach. He felt rather than saw Eames's hand release Neil's cock, sliding through the mess, and he watched through half-lidded eyes as the man pulled out and leaned over to kiss Neil again.
"All right?" Eames asked, and it took a couple of seconds for Neil to even process what that meant.
"Yeah…" he drawled sleepily.
Eames wiped up the mess with a sock he found on the floor, tossed the used condom in the bin, and crawled back into bed. Normally Neil thought it was stupid when his sexual partners spooned with him afterwards, finding it a bit ridiculously sentimental, but with Eames it was okay.
The last thing Neil remembered before falling asleep was the sound of Eames turning off the light and the feel of him pressing a kiss to the back of Neil's neck.