Fiction: In Medias Res
Title: In Medias Res
Pairings: Eames/Saito Cobb/Eames Arthur/Cobb Cobb/Saito Saito/Yusuf
rating: Mature (NC-17)
disclaimer:These shades are not real... or are they? [BRRRMMM, BRRRRRMMM]
Warnings: Can be considered DUB-CON, because the sex acts occur in a state of altered consciousness.
Summary: 5 short kinkmeme minifills for this prompt.
Author's note: I wanted to try filling someone's request semi-randomly. Then I couldn't stop. If anyone wants to make suggestions, please feel free, all comments welcome.
1. in medias res
Eames writhes, gasping, hands clenching on slick skin. Above him, Saito's face is more open than he's ever seen it, teeth bared fiercely, tiny lines of concentration around his eyes. He growls in Japanese, guttural, and thrusts so deep into Eames, hitting his prostate and sending pleasure sparking along his nerves.
Coherent thought is difficult, but some part of Eames stutters awake, the small bit of his brain not occupied with pleasure or desperation to come, to touch more of Saito's skin. *How did I get here?* he wonders, unable to remember. *How long have we been doing this?*
They are both naked, and overhead there is sunlight filtering through trees, golden-green and warm. It feels like they are lying in soft moss, slightly cool against Eames' back and buttocks. To his displeasure, Saito stills a moment later, awareness beyond sex coming into his face.
"Mr. Eames," he says, every note of his voice thrilling over Eames' skin. "How did we come to be in this situation?" He doesn't look unhappy; his pupils are still dilated and he has a gorgeous flush over his cheeks, but Eames wants to finish what they are doing before the awkward discussion, so he clenches tightly around the delicously firm cock inside him.
"I don't know, Mr. Saito, but I'd really like it if we could continue," says Eames, purring in a voice that has never failed him before. It doesn't fail him now, Saito's eyes narrowing in lust and his hips beginning their fluid movements again. The man has the strength and grace of someone half his age, and it's unbelievably arousing to Eames to be the recipient of his attention.
It can't last long, so new and hot and unexpected. Eames feels all his muscles clench in intense release, his cock pulsing come over his belly, slick between them. Saito bites his lip, eyes closing as he thrusts a few more time and then jerks, spilling warm and wet inside of Eames.
They have enough time to smile at each other, bemused, before familiar strains of music herald awakening. Eames wakes first, glancing as blandly as he can at the handsome man beside him, still asleep, before looking up at Arthur and Yusuf. The two men are staring at him, Arthur with his mouth hanging open and Yusuf with a guilty, hunted expression Eames knows all too well.
"So the new compound has some interesting side effects," he drawls, just to see them flush. There is a stirring next to him and he looks over at Saito. The man has the content expression of a well-fed cat, and the look he gives Eames will feature in his wank fantasies for a lifetime.
"I think we need to explore this one further," says Saito, firmly.
2. stumble into this
He's on his knees, elbows in the soft blue sheets, and there is a cock in his ass. It's new and crazy but it feels like he's been here for hours now. It's also good, each thrust a jolt of pleasure he can't remember feeling before but which is so familiar it makes him hum with the joy of it.
The moans coming from the one (man, god it's a man) behind him make him hotter, so horny and eager in spite of the weird/newness of being fucked. He pushes back, and there are hands on his hips, huge and relentless and he *wants* that, groans in eager delight, and then he hears Eames (god it's Eames) say "Fuck, Dom, how did this happen, how are you- fuck, yes move just like that-" before there's a stroke that is so, so right he goes incoherent and comes, oh, comes so hard onto the soft sheets.
Then there's a stuttering sound from Eames and pressure inside and gasping, and he's collapsed and Eames (god, it's *Eames*) rolls him onto his back and just, looks at him. Oh shit, Eames and he are naked and plastered together with sweat and come and Dom feels so *good*. It's all wrong and feels right until Eames makes some kind of hysterical sound, eyes wide and grey and so confused.
"I can't remember," says Eames. "We must be dreaming, and I don't know how we got here, but god, Dom. I want to be here," and he looks so earnest and terrified. Dom can't help but reach out to him, pull him down and kiss those lips that tremble. He doesn't know either, and his brain is trying to fight, but every nerve is singing.
Then the air is singing and he's drifting into the dusty light of the warehouse, Arthur frowning and Yusuf apologizing and then- oh then Eames is awake, and Dom has to be up and out in a moment. The sun and the pavements of Paris shock some sense into him, but he doesn't return for hours.
3. use what is given
Arthur's on his knees, and Cobb is fucking into his mouth, hot and alive and grunting desperation, tasting of tears and bitterness. It's hot and good and painful, like all of Arthur's experiences of Cobb, so it doesn't strike him how this can't be real until Dom chokes, suddenly, pulls out and stares at Arthur like he's murdering him instead of trying his best to make him come.
His knees hurt, and Arthur moves to stand, but Cobb is glaring at him with agonized blue eyes and holds out a hand, *stay, stay back*. So Arthur does what Dom wants, he always does. He stays down and lowers his eyes and makes his mind obey, takes control of this situation to make it safe, make it what Dom needs.
He doesn't know how he got here, so this is a dream. Whose dream? He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his die and rolls it, and looks back at Cobb. It's a dream, his dream, but from the way Cobb is looking at him he knows they are sharing. He wants to apologize, but what must he say?
"Arthur, what the hell," asks Cobb, more an argument than a question. His dick is still hanging out of his pants, and Arthur wants it back where he can warm it and pleasure it, but that's not who he is, what he does. So he answers carefully, meeting Cobb's eyes without challenge.
"We're in some kind of dream," says Arthur. "I'm the dreamer, and the last thing I remember is agreeing to help Yusuf with testing. This," and he gestures in a way meant to encompass the ridiculousness of his own stiff, unattended cock and Dom, still hard from his attentions, "is probably some kind of side effect."
Dom's face clears a little, though he still shoots Arthur a pained, betrayed look that cuts Arthur to the bone. And he's *still hard*, which is so unfair when all Arthur wants is to help him, goddamnit. There's no help for this, though, so Arthur pulls his gun because he always, always has a gun and he shoots first and asks Yusuf questions later.
If things are strained between them for awhile after the experiment, it's nothing close to the worst it's been. It's not enough to ruin them. And Arthur has those memories, short and sweet, of being exactly what Dom wanted.
4. don't wash my kiss from your lips
Saito Norio breathes in the scent of skin, his nose brushing tenderly over the nape of Mr. Cobb's delightful neck. He doesn't know how he got here, and yet he wants to be nowhere else. Mr. Cobb's, no *Dominic's* sighs are so sweet that he want to buy them. He'd keep them for the moments when his position seems to strangle the life from him, take them out and treasure them.
He runs his hand down one trembling flank and bites, feeling like a dragon with its virgin sacrifice. Dominic moans, perfect like he is for his master, and then stiffens. Norio knows what is coming. Perfection is meant to be impermanent, such is the way of the world.
"What- where am I?" asks his lover, Mr. Cobb once more. He rolls over onto his back, looks up at Norio with startled eyes, a flush of shame on his cheek that gives him a youthful look. Norio makes his face impassive, though not stern, and tells him what he believes to be true.
He waves at the delicate rice-paper walls around them, the glowing paper lanterns, the tatami upon which their futon is laid. "I believe you are in my dream, Mr. Cobb. We made an arrangement at some point to test new substances for your chemist, and I think we are experiencing the effects of this decision."
Mr. Cobb tries visibly to pull himself together, but his gaze keeps catching on Saito's body, on his chest and cock and mouth, on Saito's possessive hand on his hip. He meets Saito's eyes again, still flushed and with a tiny smile on his lips.
"I suppose we should stay busy while we wait for the kick," he says. Norio makes his agreement known in many ways, starting with a gentle touch of his mouth on lips pink as cherry blossom.
5. you and me by the seaside
Yusuf is luxurious, warm and resilient and the most comfortable person Saito has ever lain with, naked this way and laughing. The man smells like the ocean so nearby, and somehow he knows they've been swimming and making love for hours or days or for always.
The heat of the midday sun is kept off of them by the huge, colourfully-striped umbrella, and their towels are vast and dry. They roll together, skin to skin, Yusuf smiling against Saito's cheek, pressing a hard cock against his hip deliciously. No urgency in their movements, just joy and a certainty that suddenly seems strange, when Saito realizes he doesn't know how they came to be here, this beach on an unknown shore.
He pulls back, sits up, looking around for clues. There are white cottages in the distance, but no other people beside this cerulean sea. The sand is white and soft, but he can't recognize the place at all. Yusuf makes an inquiring sound, reaches a hand to hold his knee, says "Are you alright, Mr. Saito?" before frowning and looking around himself, expression confused.
"Where are we? I don't recall coming here, nor do I remember this place." He allows Saito to grasp his hand and they both stand up, brushing sand off of their legs and pulling on the shorts discarded upon the towel. "Hmm, you don't know either, do you, Mr. Saito."
Saito can only shrug, no idea what is happening. He doesn't dislike it, this feeling of surprise and disorientation. Most of the time he has to be in control of everything around him, and he feels a thrill to their predicament, wants to adventure with this warm and kind companion.
"Maybe we've been drugged," he suggests. Yusuf looks considering, then an expression of enlightenment transforms his handsome face.
"Perhaps we are dreaming," he says, and smiles at Saito. "Yes, I believe we are. I had a new compound I wished to test. I suspect this is the result."
Saito feels rather disappointed. If this is a dream, then he can't pull Yusuf into his arms and kiss him the way he wants to do, and there is no danger to which he is exposed, sans bodyguards and left to his own skills. "I think you are correct, Mr. Yusuf," he says softly.
Yusuf cocks his head. "Then we should be active, because the more data I gather the better." And on that lovely thought, he grasps Saito's hand and runs, dragging him laughing into the blue sea.
~fin
Pairings: Eames/Saito Cobb/Eames Arthur/Cobb Cobb/Saito Saito/Yusuf
rating: Mature (NC-17)
disclaimer:These shades are not real... or are they? [BRRRMMM, BRRRRRMMM]
Warnings: Can be considered DUB-CON, because the sex acts occur in a state of altered consciousness.
Summary: 5 short kinkmeme minifills for this prompt.
Author's note: I wanted to try filling someone's request semi-randomly. Then I couldn't stop. If anyone wants to make suggestions, please feel free, all comments welcome.
1. in medias res
Eames writhes, gasping, hands clenching on slick skin. Above him, Saito's face is more open than he's ever seen it, teeth bared fiercely, tiny lines of concentration around his eyes. He growls in Japanese, guttural, and thrusts so deep into Eames, hitting his prostate and sending pleasure sparking along his nerves.
Coherent thought is difficult, but some part of Eames stutters awake, the small bit of his brain not occupied with pleasure or desperation to come, to touch more of Saito's skin. *How did I get here?* he wonders, unable to remember. *How long have we been doing this?*
They are both naked, and overhead there is sunlight filtering through trees, golden-green and warm. It feels like they are lying in soft moss, slightly cool against Eames' back and buttocks. To his displeasure, Saito stills a moment later, awareness beyond sex coming into his face.
"Mr. Eames," he says, every note of his voice thrilling over Eames' skin. "How did we come to be in this situation?" He doesn't look unhappy; his pupils are still dilated and he has a gorgeous flush over his cheeks, but Eames wants to finish what they are doing before the awkward discussion, so he clenches tightly around the delicously firm cock inside him.
"I don't know, Mr. Saito, but I'd really like it if we could continue," says Eames, purring in a voice that has never failed him before. It doesn't fail him now, Saito's eyes narrowing in lust and his hips beginning their fluid movements again. The man has the strength and grace of someone half his age, and it's unbelievably arousing to Eames to be the recipient of his attention.
It can't last long, so new and hot and unexpected. Eames feels all his muscles clench in intense release, his cock pulsing come over his belly, slick between them. Saito bites his lip, eyes closing as he thrusts a few more time and then jerks, spilling warm and wet inside of Eames.
They have enough time to smile at each other, bemused, before familiar strains of music herald awakening. Eames wakes first, glancing as blandly as he can at the handsome man beside him, still asleep, before looking up at Arthur and Yusuf. The two men are staring at him, Arthur with his mouth hanging open and Yusuf with a guilty, hunted expression Eames knows all too well.
"So the new compound has some interesting side effects," he drawls, just to see them flush. There is a stirring next to him and he looks over at Saito. The man has the content expression of a well-fed cat, and the look he gives Eames will feature in his wank fantasies for a lifetime.
"I think we need to explore this one further," says Saito, firmly.
2. stumble into this
He's on his knees, elbows in the soft blue sheets, and there is a cock in his ass. It's new and crazy but it feels like he's been here for hours now. It's also good, each thrust a jolt of pleasure he can't remember feeling before but which is so familiar it makes him hum with the joy of it.
The moans coming from the one (man, god it's a man) behind him make him hotter, so horny and eager in spite of the weird/newness of being fucked. He pushes back, and there are hands on his hips, huge and relentless and he *wants* that, groans in eager delight, and then he hears Eames (god it's Eames) say "Fuck, Dom, how did this happen, how are you- fuck, yes move just like that-" before there's a stroke that is so, so right he goes incoherent and comes, oh, comes so hard onto the soft sheets.
Then there's a stuttering sound from Eames and pressure inside and gasping, and he's collapsed and Eames (god, it's *Eames*) rolls him onto his back and just, looks at him. Oh shit, Eames and he are naked and plastered together with sweat and come and Dom feels so *good*. It's all wrong and feels right until Eames makes some kind of hysterical sound, eyes wide and grey and so confused.
"I can't remember," says Eames. "We must be dreaming, and I don't know how we got here, but god, Dom. I want to be here," and he looks so earnest and terrified. Dom can't help but reach out to him, pull him down and kiss those lips that tremble. He doesn't know either, and his brain is trying to fight, but every nerve is singing.
Then the air is singing and he's drifting into the dusty light of the warehouse, Arthur frowning and Yusuf apologizing and then- oh then Eames is awake, and Dom has to be up and out in a moment. The sun and the pavements of Paris shock some sense into him, but he doesn't return for hours.
3. use what is given
Arthur's on his knees, and Cobb is fucking into his mouth, hot and alive and grunting desperation, tasting of tears and bitterness. It's hot and good and painful, like all of Arthur's experiences of Cobb, so it doesn't strike him how this can't be real until Dom chokes, suddenly, pulls out and stares at Arthur like he's murdering him instead of trying his best to make him come.
His knees hurt, and Arthur moves to stand, but Cobb is glaring at him with agonized blue eyes and holds out a hand, *stay, stay back*. So Arthur does what Dom wants, he always does. He stays down and lowers his eyes and makes his mind obey, takes control of this situation to make it safe, make it what Dom needs.
He doesn't know how he got here, so this is a dream. Whose dream? He reaches into his pocket, pulls out his die and rolls it, and looks back at Cobb. It's a dream, his dream, but from the way Cobb is looking at him he knows they are sharing. He wants to apologize, but what must he say?
"Arthur, what the hell," asks Cobb, more an argument than a question. His dick is still hanging out of his pants, and Arthur wants it back where he can warm it and pleasure it, but that's not who he is, what he does. So he answers carefully, meeting Cobb's eyes without challenge.
"We're in some kind of dream," says Arthur. "I'm the dreamer, and the last thing I remember is agreeing to help Yusuf with testing. This," and he gestures in a way meant to encompass the ridiculousness of his own stiff, unattended cock and Dom, still hard from his attentions, "is probably some kind of side effect."
Dom's face clears a little, though he still shoots Arthur a pained, betrayed look that cuts Arthur to the bone. And he's *still hard*, which is so unfair when all Arthur wants is to help him, goddamnit. There's no help for this, though, so Arthur pulls his gun because he always, always has a gun and he shoots first and asks Yusuf questions later.
If things are strained between them for awhile after the experiment, it's nothing close to the worst it's been. It's not enough to ruin them. And Arthur has those memories, short and sweet, of being exactly what Dom wanted.
4. don't wash my kiss from your lips
Saito Norio breathes in the scent of skin, his nose brushing tenderly over the nape of Mr. Cobb's delightful neck. He doesn't know how he got here, and yet he wants to be nowhere else. Mr. Cobb's, no *Dominic's* sighs are so sweet that he want to buy them. He'd keep them for the moments when his position seems to strangle the life from him, take them out and treasure them.
He runs his hand down one trembling flank and bites, feeling like a dragon with its virgin sacrifice. Dominic moans, perfect like he is for his master, and then stiffens. Norio knows what is coming. Perfection is meant to be impermanent, such is the way of the world.
"What- where am I?" asks his lover, Mr. Cobb once more. He rolls over onto his back, looks up at Norio with startled eyes, a flush of shame on his cheek that gives him a youthful look. Norio makes his face impassive, though not stern, and tells him what he believes to be true.
He waves at the delicate rice-paper walls around them, the glowing paper lanterns, the tatami upon which their futon is laid. "I believe you are in my dream, Mr. Cobb. We made an arrangement at some point to test new substances for your chemist, and I think we are experiencing the effects of this decision."
Mr. Cobb tries visibly to pull himself together, but his gaze keeps catching on Saito's body, on his chest and cock and mouth, on Saito's possessive hand on his hip. He meets Saito's eyes again, still flushed and with a tiny smile on his lips.
"I suppose we should stay busy while we wait for the kick," he says. Norio makes his agreement known in many ways, starting with a gentle touch of his mouth on lips pink as cherry blossom.
5. you and me by the seaside
Yusuf is luxurious, warm and resilient and the most comfortable person Saito has ever lain with, naked this way and laughing. The man smells like the ocean so nearby, and somehow he knows they've been swimming and making love for hours or days or for always.
The heat of the midday sun is kept off of them by the huge, colourfully-striped umbrella, and their towels are vast and dry. They roll together, skin to skin, Yusuf smiling against Saito's cheek, pressing a hard cock against his hip deliciously. No urgency in their movements, just joy and a certainty that suddenly seems strange, when Saito realizes he doesn't know how they came to be here, this beach on an unknown shore.
He pulls back, sits up, looking around for clues. There are white cottages in the distance, but no other people beside this cerulean sea. The sand is white and soft, but he can't recognize the place at all. Yusuf makes an inquiring sound, reaches a hand to hold his knee, says "Are you alright, Mr. Saito?" before frowning and looking around himself, expression confused.
"Where are we? I don't recall coming here, nor do I remember this place." He allows Saito to grasp his hand and they both stand up, brushing sand off of their legs and pulling on the shorts discarded upon the towel. "Hmm, you don't know either, do you, Mr. Saito."
Saito can only shrug, no idea what is happening. He doesn't dislike it, this feeling of surprise and disorientation. Most of the time he has to be in control of everything around him, and he feels a thrill to their predicament, wants to adventure with this warm and kind companion.
"Maybe we've been drugged," he suggests. Yusuf looks considering, then an expression of enlightenment transforms his handsome face.
"Perhaps we are dreaming," he says, and smiles at Saito. "Yes, I believe we are. I had a new compound I wished to test. I suspect this is the result."
Saito feels rather disappointed. If this is a dream, then he can't pull Yusuf into his arms and kiss him the way he wants to do, and there is no danger to which he is exposed, sans bodyguards and left to his own skills. "I think you are correct, Mr. Yusuf," he says softly.
Yusuf cocks his head. "Then we should be active, because the more data I gather the better." And on that lovely thought, he grasps Saito's hand and runs, dragging him laughing into the blue sea.
~fin