[a merry chase what-if] Lost My Drink, Can't Find My Keys

[triedinception]

TECHNICALLY WHAT HAPPENS HERE IS NO LONGER PART OF MERRY CHASE CANON.

Eames didn't even remember what the fight had been about.

He wasn't so deluded as to thing that things with Arthur would be smooth sailing and hearts in their eyes ( because Eames and Arthur couldn't stand that all the time ) but he never expected to have a fight like the one they'

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[triedinception]

Eames knows he should be happy to see Arthur, that the man has returned. But his backstabbing mind throws all kinds of bad reasons- he's going to ask Eames to leave, this is his place, he needs to pick some things up, and that terrifies him - and so Eames sneers at him instead.

"Oh, look who has deigned to return," he says, emphasizing the word as though to petulantly prove he's still his wits about him

you mentioned prey and predator and young eames so here

[triedinception]

It had crossed his mind for the briefest of seconds.

Eames keeps a hand or a hold on Arthur the whole walk there, partially for balance and partially because he doesn't want to let Arthur go. When they're in the bedroom, Eames plasters himself to Arthur's back, running his hands over Arthur's chest, and then down along to his hips, slipping fingers into the hem of his pants and underwear.

"Clothes off," he says, an incongruous order when he's mouthing the back of Arthur's neck, occasionally catching the collar of his jacket as he does it.

going to make me break out young Arthur in retaliation

[littlspecificty]

Arthur can't help the shiver goes down his spine as he hears those words and feels the mouth and breath on the back of his neck. The hands are also encouraging.

He silently removes his shirt and jacket, running his tongue over his abused bottom lip. Eames' fingers are still at the hem of his pants when he unbuttons them and, knowing what might happen with Eames right behind him, he pulls them and his boxers down with them, leaving him bending over naked in front Eames, his hands still on Arthur's hips.

hardly retaliation. more like a gift.

[triedinception]

Oh, that's a delicious sight in front of him - Arthur bent over, naked, Eames' fingers trailing over hips. He lets out a growl and barely lets Arthur get out of his pants before he's pushing him forward towards the bed, wanting him on hands and knees, wanting him to sprawl on it, a canvas for Eames to leave his mark on.

He makes sure to dig his nails in as he pushes, scraping little red grooves into Arthur's skin.

damn JGL for being so fine

[littlspecificty]

Arthur ends up turning onto his side, partially on his back to watch Eames and, for the first time, isn't exactly sure what to do next. He managed to kick off the rest of his pants as he propped himself up on one elbow, watching Eames like he was watching him.

He knew for certain he was being sized up and he was confusing combination of aroused and turned-off.

damn him indeed

[triedinception]

Eames leans back, only keeping his hand on Arthur's calf, looking at the naked sight of Arthur, at the fact that he was hard, and felt arousal and possessiveness spike in his gut. Arthur was his. Eames would keep him here and protect him and himself; if Arthur could not leave he would not hurt Eames.

"Stay," he ordered, moving to get the lube from where he knew they kept it. When he came back he still had not shed his clothes, and so old denim and soft wifebeater pressed against Arthur's skin when Eames pressed against him.

He bit lightly at Arthur's jaw, an almost obscene gentleness, before he moved down and starting biting hard, raising little red marks. He dropped the lub onto the bed and wrapped one hand around Arthur's dick, the other going to tug Arthur's hair back.

"Want you like this all the time," Eames groaned before he was sucking at a nipple, those blessedly sensitive things, and then biting, sharp and quick.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur didn't really move until Eames was pressing against him, still fully clothed, and that actually helped his own arousal, thrusting into the other man's hand and letting out a loud moan when the nipple was bit (after all the other noises he had made at the previous bites, still more than what he used to but nothing he couldn't handle).

His body laid out more fully on the bed, still thrusting in Eames' hand as one hand went into Eames' hair and the other hand slipping under cotton to feel tanned skin he knew so well.

[triedinception]

There was an edge of urgency to the way that Eames fingers curled around Arthur, the way that he bit at his chest; a paranoia that he might change his mind, leave again. It reminded him too much of before.

Eames murmured something against the skin of Arthur's chest when he felt hands on him; an approving noise, but also sounding desperate. Eames bit at the skin of one pectoral, sucking and leaving another lurid mark. The hand in Arthurs hair slid down past one shoulder, dragging nails over the other side of his chest.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur, even now, still didn't have a clue as to how deeply he had affected Eames back then (and how it was coming back into play now).

The hand in Eames' hair gripped tighter and his nails dug into his back as he whimpered out the other man's name, head going back onto the bed completely.

[triedinception]

Eames had thought, genuinely, that he would not let their history affect him this severely. But for nearly eight years he'd carried this. It was why he always flirted first, fought first, left first. No one could hurt him if he did it first.

Arthur, though, he'd always been able to get under Eames' skin.

Eames shifted back up, biting at the underside of Arthur's chin as the skin was exposed. He kept his hand moving, twisting, as the hand trailing down his body moved to grab the lube.

He let go of Arthur as he got it, leaning up and over the younger man as he opened it and spread it on his fingers. He leaned down further between Arthur's legs, spreading them and letting them rest on his upper arms as he pressed two fingers into Arthur. It was more than he'd normally start with. At the same time he leaned down and slid his mouth over Arthur's cock, sucking him down until he was nosing at the hair at his groin.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur, after he had left that first time, had forced himself to move on. Threw himself into other jobs and even other lives later on. He had even accepted that he'd never see Eames again.

So, years later, when he saw Eames again, he was definitely resistant, not sure he could take that kind of relationship again (or if Eames even still wanted him or even cared, then and now).

He felt his breathing quicken as Eames spread his legs and positioned him differently. His back arched off the bed some when Eames put two fingers in him, making an almost helpless sound. The mouth around his cock had him squeezing his eyes shut even more, head twisting upward as he cried out. One hand gripped and twisted in the covers, as he couldn't help but push against those fingers.

[triedinception]

Eames had hated him, a little, when Arthur had been the point man on that job, that first job with Cobb, and had acted like nothing was wrong. Later, learning he was a hit man had made him think he'd just been using Eames.

Later still, he'd had a firsthand experience that it was not true. But still, there was doubt in his mind that Arthur would stay.

Eames looked up from what he was doing, feeling another spike of arousal and possessiveness in his gut at the way Arthur writhed, at the noises he made. Eames pulled the fingers out and thrust them back in, tongue rubbing against Arthur's cock and swallowing around him, sucking.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur made more sounds - somewhere between mewling and a strangled cry - at Eames doing that, pushing back against those fingers, practically whimpering Eames' name.

He had more or less known what Eames thought of him when they ended up crossing paths again, but he had honestly felt that he had made the best choice at the time and didn't need to justify it to the other man. Whether out of pride or that he just couldn't feel like he could express the truth without coming off weak or desperate (and he never knew for certain how Eames had felt then of later).

The fact Eames had seen his memories might have just been the only way to remedy the situation.

[triedinception]

Eames twisted his fingers, pushing, finding Arthur's prostate and rubbing it. He liked the way Arthur said his name - almost made him less paranoid. He drew his mouth back, tongue flicking over the head of Arthur's cock, tonguing the slit.

The memories only went so far for assuaging the paranoia, hurt and anger that Eames had carried for several years, and the memories were the furthest thing from his vodka-addled brain.

Eames slid his mouth off Arthur's dick as he drew out his fingers and added a third on the next push in, finding his prostate with unerring drunken accuracy.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur arched his back again, breathing hard, tugging at the covers, practically grinding against those fingers and oh, that tongue. "Eames. Please."

He made a choked noise at the third finger being added, and pushed his hips back shamelessly, biting on his knuckles as he flexed his muscles around the fingers.

[triedinception]

"Please what?" Besides being drunk, period, he felt drunk on Arthur's reactions, on the way that he was able to wring them out of the younger man. He wasn't going to hold off much longer - the way that Arthur was clenching around him, he could feel his dick aching to slide into him.

Eames leaned down to lick teasingly at Arthur's cock again, a show of lips and tongue.