Fic + Art: The Things You Learn When You Cohabitate
Title: The Things You Learn When You Cohabitate
Artist: platina Author: butterflythread
Team: ROMANCE <3
Prompt: Bonds
Word count: 729
Rating: Fic- R Art- NSFW
If Eames didn’t know any better, he’d assume the noises coming from the bedroom mean Arthur has decided to have a quick morning wank without him. He does know better, but the obvious noises of effort warrant investigation anyway.
“Arthur,” he says as he walks down the hallway. “Do you need a...” he stops in the bedroom doorway, “hand?”
Arthur getting himself off after his shower would almost make more sense than Arthur battling with the ensuite doorknob and the long scarlet laces of the black corset he’s wearing. But that’s what Eames sees, and he’s not sure whether he’s more surprised or more turned on by the sight.
Arthur glances up, nonchalant. “Actually, I really could. Tighten this for me?” He unloops the laces from the doorknob and holds them out, like this is something they do every day.
It’s definitely not. But this whole co-habitating thing is still new enough that Eames would be worried if he wasn’t still finding out more of Arthur’s quirks, and this... he looks Arthur up and down; the way the black fabric of the corset draws a dark line just beneath his nipples and accentuates the slight dip of his waist.
He takes the laces from Arthur, but tightening them and being done with it is the last thing on his mind. He presses a hand between Arthur’s shoulder blades and drags it down to the lip of the corset, runs his fingers down the gap over his spine and lets them trip over the criss-cross of the laces. There’s a good inch of space between the top of Arthur’s trousers and the bottom of the corset, and Eames slides his thumb across the exposed skin there. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing.”
“I don’t wear it if there’s more than a forty percent chance I’m going to have to shoot something,” Arthur says, as if that explains everything. He turns to brace his hands on the little desk against the wall before looking back over his shoulder, arching his back further, and Eames is fairly sure that a lesser man wouldn’t be able to control the urge to press him down onto the table, tug his pants down, and fuck him with sharp pulls on the laces for leverage. “I’ll tell you when it’s tight enough.”
Eames bites his lip, calming the debauched direction of his thoughts, before taking a deep breath and looping the laces around his hands.
He gives them a hard pull and Arthur resists, all the fine muscle through his shoulders and back tensing. It’s similar to the way his back looks when they fuck, clenching and releasing with every thrust.
“I like it,” Eames says, tugging again, harder.
Arthur gives a little grunt and spreads his legs wider, leaning forward. “Do you now.”
Eames wraps the laces around his hands again, pulling them tighter as he steps close enough to slide his knee into the warm space between Arthur’s thighs. “If we didn’t have this meeting to be at in an hour... well.” He feels the shudder run through Arthur, and grins.
“You can always help me out of it later, if that’s how you feel. It won’t matter if it takes you half an hour.”
Eames pulls on the laces, watching the amount skin visible between the black constrict until it’s nothing but a pale sliver, a tease beneath the red laces. “I’d pencil in more than half an hour if I were you,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the sweep of one naked shoulder blade.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arthur says, voice husky enough for Eames to notice. “That’s enough.”
It’s a little disappointing to tie the laces and tuck them carefully away only to watch Arthur shrug his shirt straight on and cover it all up, but Eames reaches out and rests his hands on the smooth curve of his waist as soon he’s buttoned up. He tenses his fingers against the bones of the corset just beneath the cloth, the warm skin hidden under that.
Arthur twists away. “We’re going to be late.”
Eames watches as he reaches for his jacket and slips it on. The corset is invisible under Arthur’s clothes, but Eames knows it’s there. He’ll know it’s there all fucking day, and it’s going to drive him insane.
*
Artist: platina Author: butterflythread
Team: ROMANCE <3
Prompt: Bonds
Word count: 729
Rating: Fic- R Art- NSFW
If Eames didn’t know any better, he’d assume the noises coming from the bedroom mean Arthur has decided to have a quick morning wank without him. He does know better, but the obvious noises of effort warrant investigation anyway.
“Arthur,” he says as he walks down the hallway. “Do you need a...” he stops in the bedroom doorway, “hand?”
Arthur getting himself off after his shower would almost make more sense than Arthur battling with the ensuite doorknob and the long scarlet laces of the black corset he’s wearing. But that’s what Eames sees, and he’s not sure whether he’s more surprised or more turned on by the sight.
Arthur glances up, nonchalant. “Actually, I really could. Tighten this for me?” He unloops the laces from the doorknob and holds them out, like this is something they do every day.
It’s definitely not. But this whole co-habitating thing is still new enough that Eames would be worried if he wasn’t still finding out more of Arthur’s quirks, and this... he looks Arthur up and down; the way the black fabric of the corset draws a dark line just beneath his nipples and accentuates the slight dip of his waist.
He takes the laces from Arthur, but tightening them and being done with it is the last thing on his mind. He presses a hand between Arthur’s shoulder blades and drags it down to the lip of the corset, runs his fingers down the gap over his spine and lets them trip over the criss-cross of the laces. There’s a good inch of space between the top of Arthur’s trousers and the bottom of the corset, and Eames slides his thumb across the exposed skin there. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing.”
“I don’t wear it if there’s more than a forty percent chance I’m going to have to shoot something,” Arthur says, as if that explains everything. He turns to brace his hands on the little desk against the wall before looking back over his shoulder, arching his back further, and Eames is fairly sure that a lesser man wouldn’t be able to control the urge to press him down onto the table, tug his pants down, and fuck him with sharp pulls on the laces for leverage. “I’ll tell you when it’s tight enough.”
Eames bites his lip, calming the debauched direction of his thoughts, before taking a deep breath and looping the laces around his hands.
He gives them a hard pull and Arthur resists, all the fine muscle through his shoulders and back tensing. It’s similar to the way his back looks when they fuck, clenching and releasing with every thrust.
“I like it,” Eames says, tugging again, harder.
Arthur gives a little grunt and spreads his legs wider, leaning forward. “Do you now.”
Eames wraps the laces around his hands again, pulling them tighter as he steps close enough to slide his knee into the warm space between Arthur’s thighs. “If we didn’t have this meeting to be at in an hour... well.” He feels the shudder run through Arthur, and grins.
“You can always help me out of it later, if that’s how you feel. It won’t matter if it takes you half an hour.”
Eames pulls on the laces, watching the amount skin visible between the black constrict until it’s nothing but a pale sliver, a tease beneath the red laces. “I’d pencil in more than half an hour if I were you,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the sweep of one naked shoulder blade.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arthur says, voice husky enough for Eames to notice. “That’s enough.”
It’s a little disappointing to tie the laces and tuck them carefully away only to watch Arthur shrug his shirt straight on and cover it all up, but Eames reaches out and rests his hands on the smooth curve of his waist as soon he’s buttoned up. He tenses his fingers against the bones of the corset just beneath the cloth, the warm skin hidden under that.
Arthur twists away. “We’re going to be late.”
Eames watches as he reaches for his jacket and slips it on. The corset is invisible under Arthur’s clothes, but Eames knows it’s there. He’ll know it’s there all fucking day, and it’s going to drive him insane.
*