Fic: Don't Fuck With Darling 2/2 *finally*
Kink Meme Fill
Title: Don't Fuck With Darling 2/2
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Prompt: "I'll tell you what, Eames, I'm a fair man. If you can beat one of my men in the ring; then you and your little darling here can go free. But, if not, then he spends the evening with me. Deal?" Eames doesn't lose.
Part 1
Eames wasn’t a man who had to be told things twice; especially when the tone in Arthur’s voice usually indicated he was in the mood for a good dicking. Eames was only too happy to oblige him in his time of need, and no sooner had he pulled the car over then Arthur was in his lap and the seat back dropped down. Arthur was arched above him, pulling off his jacket as Eames reached down to undo his trousers. Arthur gripped the front of Eames’ shirt and ripped it open, exposing his naked chest and tattoos.
“All that blood and you managed to save that ugly jacket,” Arthur said, eyebrow cocked. “Shame.”
“I love this jacket,” Eames countered. “Loved that shirt, too.” He tugged at Arthur’s trousers, pulling them down over his ass just enough to get the job done as Arthur found his cock, stroking it through his briefs. Eames groaned, letting his head fall back against the seat and Arthur continue in his work. The slim man worked Eames’ underwear down and let his cock spring free, spitting into his hand to coat the other man’s length. Eames gripped Arthur’s buttocks hard as he thrust up, his cock bumping against Arthur’s bunched up trousers.
“Fuck!” he hissed, putting a hand to Arthur’s chest and pushing him backwards. Arthur took his direction, resting his elbows against the dash, watching Eames hungrily as the other man yanked at his trousers. Eames grunted, managing to work one of Arthur’s legs free before dragging him back into position.
Arthur’s pouty lower lip clasped between his white teeth, his skinny shoulders arched up sharply beside his tilted head. He smoldered at Eames in lusty approval of the manhandling, rolling his hips until he felt Eames’ meaty cock between his ass cheeks. Eames was making hasty work of his shirt, thick fingers working determinedly on the small buttons until he had Arthur’s perfect smooth chest bared before him.
Arthur was panting gently now, Eames’ rough fingers brushing over the sensitive flesh at his collarbone before gliding down to gently thumb at a nipple. “Like that?” Eames asked, voice thick. He slid his hand to Arthur’s throat, circling it with his a hint of pressure before raising it to the slim man’s jaw. He moved his thumb just under Arthur’s sweet lower lip, pushing just passed his lips. Arthur nipped at him, his eyes dark and lashes drooped low. “Fuck, Eames,” he moaned. “Want to suck your cock so bad…”
Eames dragged his thumb down Arthur’s lower lip with a smirk. “Mmm…sounds lovely…change of plans then?”
Arthur shook his head, arching his back as Eames’ hand wandered down his chest and flat stomach. He ground against Eames’ cock, eliciting a stifled whimper. “Fuck me now,” he commanded, his own cock curling up towards his belly. “I’ll blow you later.”
Eames worked a hand between them, finger brushing over Arthur’s hole. “It’ll hurt, love,” he said, his voice husky. His eyes fluttered shut as Arthur’s ass worked rhythmically against him.
“I like it when it hurts,” Arthur said huskily, gripping Eames by the back of the neck to pull him into a kiss. He opened his mouth to Eames’ tongue, their cramped quarters not making the position an easy one. He flicked his tongue wickedly up Eames’ swollen lips before releasing him, leaning back once more with his elbows against the dash.
Eames felt something feral rise within himself at Arthur’s words, his hands closing possessively against the point man’s slim boyish hips as he tilted them to a more conducive angle. He pushed one of Arthur’s thighs back against his chest with one broad hand, the other finding his own cock and gently pulling his fingers along the engorged length. He rubbed his thumb over the slit of his cock; slippery precum following its path. Eames then spit into his hand, coating himself as best he could. He spat one more time before making his initial push into the other man. The world around him dimmed, a wave of electric heat rushing through his cheeks and down his arms.
Arthur gave the most anguished little cry, his eyes pinching shut as he took in a sharp breath. His mouth was open, hanging loose with another hoarse gasp as Eames pushed further. Eames’ brows were knit, those obscene lips pursed in his determination to sink further into Arthur’s heat. The fit was almost too tight, the friction almost too much, but not quite. He released Arthur’s leg, preferring instead to let his hand glide up the point man’s trembling belly.
Eames loved Arthur’s caught breaths, the slight man’s little cries stirring a possessiveness which knotted in his stomach and then spread hotly to his groin. Arthur didn’t allow for any vulnerability while working, not even to Eames. He fucked the other man with a brutishness he knew through extensive experience that Arthur appreciated. He curled his lip at the unforgiving grip Arthur had on him, knowing full well his cock would be tender later but hardly in a position to care. These moments with Arthur were worth any pain or torment, something he was sure the other man took an almost sadistic delight in testing.
The windows about them were beginning to fog, the car jerking with their rough movements. Eames was glad for the car, for the remote location; they certainly wouldn’t have allowed themselves to be this primal with Cobb on the other side of a paper thin motel wall. At least, it wasn’t something Arthur hadn’t allowed thus far.
“Eames!” Arthur’s breathy cry broke him from his reverie. “Wake up and fuck me.”
Eames renewed his efforts, wrapping his arms about Arthur’s slim form to gain more leverage to drive up into him. Arthur was keening now, his head bumping up against the roof of the car until he reached a hand up to brace himself.
“Like that?” Eames rasped, hands spread against Arthur’s slick back. “Say it.”
Arthur’s fingers clawed into Eames’ hair, jerking his head back so he could reach his lips. “Love it,” he panted. “Love it how you fuck me.”
Eames pounded up into him, eyes dark as he looked down at Arthur’s swollen prick. Taking his cue, Arthur reached into his own lap and gingery cupped his cock. He began to stroke himself, his body tensing as his movements quickened. Eames knew he was close himself, the inevitable only able to be prolonged for so long. Arthur seemed to sense his state, his teeth grit as he jerked his own cock. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed.
“So close,” Eames choked out, his face flushed his and a familiar tightness creeping into his chest.
“Don’t you....fucking....dare,” Arthur ground out, his slim hips working while his fingers pumped. “Wait, just a little longer...”
Eames roared as he came, the tendons in his neck tensing as he jerked forward. Arthur rode him as best he could, biting his lip with the tense expression he wore when setting up a kick. Eames was slumped in his seat, hungrily watching as Arthur brought himself off, rocking atop his spent cock. Eames could feel the heat of Arthur’s release against his chest, Arthur’s body sagging back against the dash once more. His chest rose and fell as he panted, his dark eyes set on Eames with more focus than he should have been allowed in his post orgasmal condition. Arthur groped beside them until the seat fell back, the lithe young man braced his hands against Eames’ chest, his fingers playing in the sparse curls there. He ran a hand to Eames’ lips, ghosting across them before caressing the other man’s cheek.
Eames could tell Arthur was considering something, and was about to ask him what was wrong before the younger man finally spoke, his eyes still fixed on Eames’ chest.
“Eames, I - fuck, I’ve seen you die so many times in dreamscape I thought I’d gotten used to the idea, but when Gleeson sent you out I just...”
Eames quirked a brow, reaching a hand up to card his fingers through the loose hair by Arthur’s temple. “Such little faith in my abilities, Arthur? You wound me.”
He expected Arthur to roll his eyes, to make some condescending remark in usual form. He humped his hips up against the slight man, his soft cock still nestled inside. Arthur, however, just looked down at him, his dark eyes glassy in the low light. Arthur sat up a little, his head bowed and the look he gave Eames was just shy of vulnerable.
“I’d never felt so scared to lose you,” Arthur confessed softly. His eyes finally flickered to Eames, waiting for a response. Eames, however, was processing. Genuine concern was new for Arthur, and Eames knew to proceed with caution. He let his hand slide to Arthur’s throat, stroking him down to the nape.
“There was nothing to worry about,” he said, voice husky. He cupped the back of Arthur’s head on one big hand, a small smile spreading his lush lips. “Those animals should have known better than to try and fuck with my darling.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, but the dimples crowning the smile he was trying to force down betrayed him. Arthur pushed Eames back against the carseat with a hand over his face. “You’re an idiot, Mr. Eames,” he said, dropping down atop the larger man and claiming his lips with a heated kiss.
The end
Title: Don't Fuck With Darling 2/2
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Prompt: "I'll tell you what, Eames, I'm a fair man. If you can beat one of my men in the ring; then you and your little darling here can go free. But, if not, then he spends the evening with me. Deal?" Eames doesn't lose.
Part 1
Eames wasn’t a man who had to be told things twice; especially when the tone in Arthur’s voice usually indicated he was in the mood for a good dicking. Eames was only too happy to oblige him in his time of need, and no sooner had he pulled the car over then Arthur was in his lap and the seat back dropped down. Arthur was arched above him, pulling off his jacket as Eames reached down to undo his trousers. Arthur gripped the front of Eames’ shirt and ripped it open, exposing his naked chest and tattoos.
“All that blood and you managed to save that ugly jacket,” Arthur said, eyebrow cocked. “Shame.”
“I love this jacket,” Eames countered. “Loved that shirt, too.” He tugged at Arthur’s trousers, pulling them down over his ass just enough to get the job done as Arthur found his cock, stroking it through his briefs. Eames groaned, letting his head fall back against the seat and Arthur continue in his work. The slim man worked Eames’ underwear down and let his cock spring free, spitting into his hand to coat the other man’s length. Eames gripped Arthur’s buttocks hard as he thrust up, his cock bumping against Arthur’s bunched up trousers.
“Fuck!” he hissed, putting a hand to Arthur’s chest and pushing him backwards. Arthur took his direction, resting his elbows against the dash, watching Eames hungrily as the other man yanked at his trousers. Eames grunted, managing to work one of Arthur’s legs free before dragging him back into position.
Arthur’s pouty lower lip clasped between his white teeth, his skinny shoulders arched up sharply beside his tilted head. He smoldered at Eames in lusty approval of the manhandling, rolling his hips until he felt Eames’ meaty cock between his ass cheeks. Eames was making hasty work of his shirt, thick fingers working determinedly on the small buttons until he had Arthur’s perfect smooth chest bared before him.
Arthur was panting gently now, Eames’ rough fingers brushing over the sensitive flesh at his collarbone before gliding down to gently thumb at a nipple. “Like that?” Eames asked, voice thick. He slid his hand to Arthur’s throat, circling it with his a hint of pressure before raising it to the slim man’s jaw. He moved his thumb just under Arthur’s sweet lower lip, pushing just passed his lips. Arthur nipped at him, his eyes dark and lashes drooped low. “Fuck, Eames,” he moaned. “Want to suck your cock so bad…”
Eames dragged his thumb down Arthur’s lower lip with a smirk. “Mmm…sounds lovely…change of plans then?”
Arthur shook his head, arching his back as Eames’ hand wandered down his chest and flat stomach. He ground against Eames’ cock, eliciting a stifled whimper. “Fuck me now,” he commanded, his own cock curling up towards his belly. “I’ll blow you later.”
Eames worked a hand between them, finger brushing over Arthur’s hole. “It’ll hurt, love,” he said, his voice husky. His eyes fluttered shut as Arthur’s ass worked rhythmically against him.
“I like it when it hurts,” Arthur said huskily, gripping Eames by the back of the neck to pull him into a kiss. He opened his mouth to Eames’ tongue, their cramped quarters not making the position an easy one. He flicked his tongue wickedly up Eames’ swollen lips before releasing him, leaning back once more with his elbows against the dash.
Eames felt something feral rise within himself at Arthur’s words, his hands closing possessively against the point man’s slim boyish hips as he tilted them to a more conducive angle. He pushed one of Arthur’s thighs back against his chest with one broad hand, the other finding his own cock and gently pulling his fingers along the engorged length. He rubbed his thumb over the slit of his cock; slippery precum following its path. Eames then spit into his hand, coating himself as best he could. He spat one more time before making his initial push into the other man. The world around him dimmed, a wave of electric heat rushing through his cheeks and down his arms.
Arthur gave the most anguished little cry, his eyes pinching shut as he took in a sharp breath. His mouth was open, hanging loose with another hoarse gasp as Eames pushed further. Eames’ brows were knit, those obscene lips pursed in his determination to sink further into Arthur’s heat. The fit was almost too tight, the friction almost too much, but not quite. He released Arthur’s leg, preferring instead to let his hand glide up the point man’s trembling belly.
Eames loved Arthur’s caught breaths, the slight man’s little cries stirring a possessiveness which knotted in his stomach and then spread hotly to his groin. Arthur didn’t allow for any vulnerability while working, not even to Eames. He fucked the other man with a brutishness he knew through extensive experience that Arthur appreciated. He curled his lip at the unforgiving grip Arthur had on him, knowing full well his cock would be tender later but hardly in a position to care. These moments with Arthur were worth any pain or torment, something he was sure the other man took an almost sadistic delight in testing.
The windows about them were beginning to fog, the car jerking with their rough movements. Eames was glad for the car, for the remote location; they certainly wouldn’t have allowed themselves to be this primal with Cobb on the other side of a paper thin motel wall. At least, it wasn’t something Arthur hadn’t allowed thus far.
“Eames!” Arthur’s breathy cry broke him from his reverie. “Wake up and fuck me.”
Eames renewed his efforts, wrapping his arms about Arthur’s slim form to gain more leverage to drive up into him. Arthur was keening now, his head bumping up against the roof of the car until he reached a hand up to brace himself.
“Like that?” Eames rasped, hands spread against Arthur’s slick back. “Say it.”
Arthur’s fingers clawed into Eames’ hair, jerking his head back so he could reach his lips. “Love it,” he panted. “Love it how you fuck me.”
Eames pounded up into him, eyes dark as he looked down at Arthur’s swollen prick. Taking his cue, Arthur reached into his own lap and gingery cupped his cock. He began to stroke himself, his body tensing as his movements quickened. Eames knew he was close himself, the inevitable only able to be prolonged for so long. Arthur seemed to sense his state, his teeth grit as he jerked his own cock. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed.
“So close,” Eames choked out, his face flushed his and a familiar tightness creeping into his chest.
“Don’t you....fucking....dare,” Arthur ground out, his slim hips working while his fingers pumped. “Wait, just a little longer...”
Eames roared as he came, the tendons in his neck tensing as he jerked forward. Arthur rode him as best he could, biting his lip with the tense expression he wore when setting up a kick. Eames was slumped in his seat, hungrily watching as Arthur brought himself off, rocking atop his spent cock. Eames could feel the heat of Arthur’s release against his chest, Arthur’s body sagging back against the dash once more. His chest rose and fell as he panted, his dark eyes set on Eames with more focus than he should have been allowed in his post orgasmal condition. Arthur groped beside them until the seat fell back, the lithe young man braced his hands against Eames’ chest, his fingers playing in the sparse curls there. He ran a hand to Eames’ lips, ghosting across them before caressing the other man’s cheek.
Eames could tell Arthur was considering something, and was about to ask him what was wrong before the younger man finally spoke, his eyes still fixed on Eames’ chest.
“Eames, I - fuck, I’ve seen you die so many times in dreamscape I thought I’d gotten used to the idea, but when Gleeson sent you out I just...”
Eames quirked a brow, reaching a hand up to card his fingers through the loose hair by Arthur’s temple. “Such little faith in my abilities, Arthur? You wound me.”
He expected Arthur to roll his eyes, to make some condescending remark in usual form. He humped his hips up against the slight man, his soft cock still nestled inside. Arthur, however, just looked down at him, his dark eyes glassy in the low light. Arthur sat up a little, his head bowed and the look he gave Eames was just shy of vulnerable.
“I’d never felt so scared to lose you,” Arthur confessed softly. His eyes finally flickered to Eames, waiting for a response. Eames, however, was processing. Genuine concern was new for Arthur, and Eames knew to proceed with caution. He let his hand slide to Arthur’s throat, stroking him down to the nape.
“There was nothing to worry about,” he said, voice husky. He cupped the back of Arthur’s head on one big hand, a small smile spreading his lush lips. “Those animals should have known better than to try and fuck with my darling.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, but the dimples crowning the smile he was trying to force down betrayed him. Arthur pushed Eames back against the carseat with a hand over his face. “You’re an idiot, Mr. Eames,” he said, dropping down atop the larger man and claiming his lips with a heated kiss.
The end