fic: handle firearms with care
title: handle firearms with care
pairing: arthur/eames
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
for inesdelsol ♥. long overdue and i apologize. based off this lovely art created by mankamunka.
If he had to pick one thing about Arthur that he finds incredibly and beyond belief sexy that has nothing to do with his physical features, Eames would undoubtedly say the way he managed to take control every single time. Arthur needs control like a man does air. It grounds him in reality and is as important as his die, his totem. He is a man of cool confidence because of what he holds in his hands, in his mind. And to Eames, Arthur could not be any sexier.
It does things to Eames, to see Arthur assert his authority over the team (bar Cobbs, of course). Sure, they trade barbs and butt heads on more than one occasion but Eames knows Arthur holds all the cards in his favour - as does Arthur. It’s not a secret, well not between them anyway. All Arthur has to do is hold a tone of authority in his voice, in the back of his throat and the forger would be all but ready to drop to his knees for him. It’s an intoxicating feeling for both men, one that surges in their veins all way down to their groins.
They’ve kept it casual, being sensible around the others with Arthur making sure he keeps Eames in check. They flirt when with the team but it’s nothing to arouse suspicion. Eames loves this side of Arthur, the side isn’t so uptight and stiff. It reminds Eames of the many dimensions of the man, especially when he’s has him in the position he does now.
Laying down on his stomach, hands bound together and above his head, all Eames can hear is the sound of his loud breathing. He’s not worried but... this is new. For them anyway. He looks from side to side as much as the restraints will allow for anyway. Then he feels a weight settle onto his back and before he can look up, something covers his eyes. His heart rate quickens faster than it ever has before.
“Arthur?”
“Of course it’s me, darling,” The point man teases softly into his ear. He thumbs the shell of his ear before placing a kiss right behind it. “Is this too much?” Now his tone has changed, impregnated with worry and concern. Eames feels fingers massage into his neck.
“N-no. Of course not, Arthur.” There’s a slight stutter but Eames has his voice steady by the time he finishes the sentence. But then his body is flipped over unceremoniously, his heartbeat quickening. The material that had been covering his eyes for a short period of time is pulled and rests on around his neck. He stares down the barrel of a gun. “How about now?”
Arthur smiles, his lips curving in such a way that makes Eames afraid, just a little, his bare chest taunting him. His fingers are curled around the handle and trigger, his arm taut and ready. Eames’ heart races a little quicker.
“Arthur... Love... What are you doing?”
The pointman swings the hand holding the chrome Smith and Wesson to the side. “What does it look like, Mr Eames?” When the forger doesn’t answer, Arthur frowns. “Too much?”
Eames looks down, his erect cock standing at attention quite shamelessly. He has learned at a young age to never fight his body, to never deny himself of simple carnal pleasures. Slowly, he drags his head and gaze back up to meet Arthur’s eyes. His lips curl into a slight smirk.
“Of course not, darling.”
Not to be outdone, this is his show after all, Arthur swings the gun back into his face and tilts his head to the side. “I would be careful if I were you, Eames.” His eyes have hardened, gone is the warmth Eames is used to when it is just the two of them. The smile on the forger’s lips falls and he presses his shoulders back against the pillow, trying to put a little of bit of distance between them. When he opens his lips to retort, Arthur shakes his head and presses the tip of the gun against Eames’ lips.
“You are only to speak when I say so.” His voice is hard but low, his tone speaking volumes however. He slides the gun along plush lips and Eames cannot help but lick the barrel ever so slightly. Arthur however laughs, the sound sweet yet cruel in the air. “Such a slut you are, Mr Eames. I don’t want you to speak per se but please do make those beautiful sounds you make. I quite like it.”
With the gun still comfortably resting on his lips, Arthur slides onto Eames’ thighs, resting his backside just against his balls. Arthur makes sure he has Eames’ full attention by licking the palm of his free hand before covering his cock with it. He begins to stroke Eames slowly but not lovingly and gentle. It’s rough, a little too much already. Eames pushes his hips up shamelessly, barely remembering that he isn’t to speak.
Arthur moves his hand steadily, a slow stroke down to the base, covering the entire circumference, before moving back up again, making sure to swirl the head teasingly with his fingers. When Eames’ impatience gets the better of him and he attempts to lift his hips against him, Arthur presses the barrel of the gun a little harder, the metal now digging into his teeth.
“Did you have the impression that you are in charge here, Eames? Lying on your back, hands tied as they are with a gun in your face?” Arthur makes a slight unimpressed sound as he shakes his head. “Don’t test me, Eames. Trust me. I won’t miss you that much.”
Eames lets his gaze fall to Arthur’s naked torso and focuses on the lines and planes of his body instead of the sensations running through his own. He’s doing something right because the hand on his cock moves a little quicker and with a little more purpose. He is about to stop himself from moaning when he remembers Arthur... demand. The sound he lets out is a little shameless.
“That’s it, Eames. Let me here you.”
Arthur grips his fingers a little tighter as he moves the tip of the gun from Eames’ lips. He traces down his chin, zigzagging across his throat only to rest it against his nipple. Arthur presses it in, crushing the tender nipple underneath the gun and loving the way Eames yelps out, his body lurching forward but the restraints around his wrists keeping him in place. He doesn’t let up on his cock either, now stroking him with one purpose in mind.
“Come, Eames. For me.”
The purr of his voice, the barrel of the gun against his skin, the hand tugging on his cock, everything - everything has Eames breathing a little quicker, a little more erratically. When he comes, his moan is drawn out like his orgasm, as he comes into Arthur’s hand and onto his stomach. His body shudders but Arthur remains where he is and doesn’t stop moving his hand until Eames has come down from his high completely. He dips his head and kisses the spot in between Eames’ chest and stomach, right above his diaphragm. When he straightens, he lets go of his cock to whip his hand on the sheets.
“Arthur...”
He trails the gun down Eames’ chest and runs it along his stomach and cock. “We are not done just yet, Eames.” Arthur swears he feels a shiver run through the body beneath him.
“O-of course.”
Arthur slides off his body carefully and leans over the side of the bed to the table bedside. “Turn onto your stomach.” Of course it is not a question, not when Arthur is hard and more than ready to take his pleasure.
And take his pleasure he does. He doesn’t just fuck Eames hard and into the mattress like he wants to. No. He does something he hasn’t done with Eames just yet. Well not this version of it.
“Arthur!” Eames can’t hold back the shout as he feels a tongue slide into him and he cannot help but push back in need. He can feel himself getting hard again; a silent curse gets muffled into the pillow.
It’s different... dirty but Arthur keeps at it like he is truly trying to find something deep down in Eames’ ass. And if Eames’ moans and squirms are anything to go by Arthur knows the forger is enjoying it more than he. He slips in a finger and it takes him a minute to find his spot and Eames moans again, this time too shamelessly that Arthur knows he’s close. Again.
When Arthur pushes in, sensations fill Eames: the feel of slick wet lube, of hard cock, of soft material against his skin. Eames swings his head to the side and sees in the mirror on the wall across the room that Arthur didn’t even take the time to fully undress. His trousers are mostly still on his hips, just his cock out from the zipper, fucking him so perfectly. It’s dirty. It’s hot and Eames doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Arthur has his fingers curled into Eames’ sides but then something catches his eye out from the corner. He reaches out with one hand and pulls his trusty Smith & Wesson back into his grasp. His hips don’t falter, if anything he speeds up, his orgasm approaching.
“Eames,” Arthur barely gets out as he fucks him hard, pressing the gun up against his ribs. “Fuck yourself against me.” And really, Eames has no reason to not oblige.
And again, it is Eames who comes, untouched by Arthur’s hands, only fuelled by his cock and the feeling of Arthur fucking him so unabashedly. Arthur doesn’t need much after Eames, and follows only seconds later, coming inside him. He slumps against Eames’ body which is flat against the mattress now, exhausted and satisfied. Arthur kisses his damp skin lightly.
Eames laughs suddenly, his body shaking under Arthur’s. “Who knew?”
“Who knew what?”
“That you had it in you.”
Arthur bites down on his neck lightly. “You will have this in you soon.” He presses the gun against the crease of his ass.
“Promises, promises.”
pairing: arthur/eames
rating: nc-17
disclaimer: fiction
for inesdelsol ♥. long overdue and i apologize. based off this lovely art created by mankamunka.
If he had to pick one thing about Arthur that he finds incredibly and beyond belief sexy that has nothing to do with his physical features, Eames would undoubtedly say the way he managed to take control every single time. Arthur needs control like a man does air. It grounds him in reality and is as important as his die, his totem. He is a man of cool confidence because of what he holds in his hands, in his mind. And to Eames, Arthur could not be any sexier.
It does things to Eames, to see Arthur assert his authority over the team (bar Cobbs, of course). Sure, they trade barbs and butt heads on more than one occasion but Eames knows Arthur holds all the cards in his favour - as does Arthur. It’s not a secret, well not between them anyway. All Arthur has to do is hold a tone of authority in his voice, in the back of his throat and the forger would be all but ready to drop to his knees for him. It’s an intoxicating feeling for both men, one that surges in their veins all way down to their groins.
They’ve kept it casual, being sensible around the others with Arthur making sure he keeps Eames in check. They flirt when with the team but it’s nothing to arouse suspicion. Eames loves this side of Arthur, the side isn’t so uptight and stiff. It reminds Eames of the many dimensions of the man, especially when he’s has him in the position he does now.
Laying down on his stomach, hands bound together and above his head, all Eames can hear is the sound of his loud breathing. He’s not worried but... this is new. For them anyway. He looks from side to side as much as the restraints will allow for anyway. Then he feels a weight settle onto his back and before he can look up, something covers his eyes. His heart rate quickens faster than it ever has before.
“Arthur?”
“Of course it’s me, darling,” The point man teases softly into his ear. He thumbs the shell of his ear before placing a kiss right behind it. “Is this too much?” Now his tone has changed, impregnated with worry and concern. Eames feels fingers massage into his neck.
“N-no. Of course not, Arthur.” There’s a slight stutter but Eames has his voice steady by the time he finishes the sentence. But then his body is flipped over unceremoniously, his heartbeat quickening. The material that had been covering his eyes for a short period of time is pulled and rests on around his neck. He stares down the barrel of a gun. “How about now?”
Arthur smiles, his lips curving in such a way that makes Eames afraid, just a little, his bare chest taunting him. His fingers are curled around the handle and trigger, his arm taut and ready. Eames’ heart races a little quicker.
“Arthur... Love... What are you doing?”
The pointman swings the hand holding the chrome Smith and Wesson to the side. “What does it look like, Mr Eames?” When the forger doesn’t answer, Arthur frowns. “Too much?”
Eames looks down, his erect cock standing at attention quite shamelessly. He has learned at a young age to never fight his body, to never deny himself of simple carnal pleasures. Slowly, he drags his head and gaze back up to meet Arthur’s eyes. His lips curl into a slight smirk.
“Of course not, darling.”
Not to be outdone, this is his show after all, Arthur swings the gun back into his face and tilts his head to the side. “I would be careful if I were you, Eames.” His eyes have hardened, gone is the warmth Eames is used to when it is just the two of them. The smile on the forger’s lips falls and he presses his shoulders back against the pillow, trying to put a little of bit of distance between them. When he opens his lips to retort, Arthur shakes his head and presses the tip of the gun against Eames’ lips.
“You are only to speak when I say so.” His voice is hard but low, his tone speaking volumes however. He slides the gun along plush lips and Eames cannot help but lick the barrel ever so slightly. Arthur however laughs, the sound sweet yet cruel in the air. “Such a slut you are, Mr Eames. I don’t want you to speak per se but please do make those beautiful sounds you make. I quite like it.”
With the gun still comfortably resting on his lips, Arthur slides onto Eames’ thighs, resting his backside just against his balls. Arthur makes sure he has Eames’ full attention by licking the palm of his free hand before covering his cock with it. He begins to stroke Eames slowly but not lovingly and gentle. It’s rough, a little too much already. Eames pushes his hips up shamelessly, barely remembering that he isn’t to speak.
Arthur moves his hand steadily, a slow stroke down to the base, covering the entire circumference, before moving back up again, making sure to swirl the head teasingly with his fingers. When Eames’ impatience gets the better of him and he attempts to lift his hips against him, Arthur presses the barrel of the gun a little harder, the metal now digging into his teeth.
“Did you have the impression that you are in charge here, Eames? Lying on your back, hands tied as they are with a gun in your face?” Arthur makes a slight unimpressed sound as he shakes his head. “Don’t test me, Eames. Trust me. I won’t miss you that much.”
Eames lets his gaze fall to Arthur’s naked torso and focuses on the lines and planes of his body instead of the sensations running through his own. He’s doing something right because the hand on his cock moves a little quicker and with a little more purpose. He is about to stop himself from moaning when he remembers Arthur... demand. The sound he lets out is a little shameless.
“That’s it, Eames. Let me here you.”
Arthur grips his fingers a little tighter as he moves the tip of the gun from Eames’ lips. He traces down his chin, zigzagging across his throat only to rest it against his nipple. Arthur presses it in, crushing the tender nipple underneath the gun and loving the way Eames yelps out, his body lurching forward but the restraints around his wrists keeping him in place. He doesn’t let up on his cock either, now stroking him with one purpose in mind.
“Come, Eames. For me.”
The purr of his voice, the barrel of the gun against his skin, the hand tugging on his cock, everything - everything has Eames breathing a little quicker, a little more erratically. When he comes, his moan is drawn out like his orgasm, as he comes into Arthur’s hand and onto his stomach. His body shudders but Arthur remains where he is and doesn’t stop moving his hand until Eames has come down from his high completely. He dips his head and kisses the spot in between Eames’ chest and stomach, right above his diaphragm. When he straightens, he lets go of his cock to whip his hand on the sheets.
“Arthur...”
He trails the gun down Eames’ chest and runs it along his stomach and cock. “We are not done just yet, Eames.” Arthur swears he feels a shiver run through the body beneath him.
“O-of course.”
Arthur slides off his body carefully and leans over the side of the bed to the table bedside. “Turn onto your stomach.” Of course it is not a question, not when Arthur is hard and more than ready to take his pleasure.
And take his pleasure he does. He doesn’t just fuck Eames hard and into the mattress like he wants to. No. He does something he hasn’t done with Eames just yet. Well not this version of it.
“Arthur!” Eames can’t hold back the shout as he feels a tongue slide into him and he cannot help but push back in need. He can feel himself getting hard again; a silent curse gets muffled into the pillow.
It’s different... dirty but Arthur keeps at it like he is truly trying to find something deep down in Eames’ ass. And if Eames’ moans and squirms are anything to go by Arthur knows the forger is enjoying it more than he. He slips in a finger and it takes him a minute to find his spot and Eames moans again, this time too shamelessly that Arthur knows he’s close. Again.
When Arthur pushes in, sensations fill Eames: the feel of slick wet lube, of hard cock, of soft material against his skin. Eames swings his head to the side and sees in the mirror on the wall across the room that Arthur didn’t even take the time to fully undress. His trousers are mostly still on his hips, just his cock out from the zipper, fucking him so perfectly. It’s dirty. It’s hot and Eames doesn’t know how much more he can take.
Arthur has his fingers curled into Eames’ sides but then something catches his eye out from the corner. He reaches out with one hand and pulls his trusty Smith & Wesson back into his grasp. His hips don’t falter, if anything he speeds up, his orgasm approaching.
“Eames,” Arthur barely gets out as he fucks him hard, pressing the gun up against his ribs. “Fuck yourself against me.” And really, Eames has no reason to not oblige.
And again, it is Eames who comes, untouched by Arthur’s hands, only fuelled by his cock and the feeling of Arthur fucking him so unabashedly. Arthur doesn’t need much after Eames, and follows only seconds later, coming inside him. He slumps against Eames’ body which is flat against the mattress now, exhausted and satisfied. Arthur kisses his damp skin lightly.
Eames laughs suddenly, his body shaking under Arthur’s. “Who knew?”
“Who knew what?”
“That you had it in you.”
Arthur bites down on his neck lightly. “You will have this in you soon.” He presses the gun against the crease of his ass.
“Promises, promises.”