[032] Sensitivity Training - Inception (Arthur/Eames)
Title: Sensitivity Training
Fandom: Inception
Pairing/Genre: Arthur/Eames; porn
Rating: R
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Eames' mouth is on Arthur's neck as he lightly tosses the scissors away, laying his now empty hand against Arthur's side. His touch practically burns Arthur's skin. Arthur couldn't prevent the moan that escapes if he tried.
Notes: Man, when I write for a new fandom, I certainly like to go in with a bang, eh? This is the third fandom I've started with porn. *kanyeshrug* Written for cherrybina's Kink Fest; originally posted HERE. Prompt: Eames likes to do Arthur's intimate shaving himself. Arthur loves how sensitive he is afterwards. It gets him hot like nothing else.
•••••
Arthur's standing in the bathroom of the hotel room blatantly examining himself. He's naked from the waist down and seriously starting to wonder if he shouldn't just wax every 6-to-8 weeks. Arthur's not terribly fond of having his hair ripped from his body, but hey, if Ariadne can do it with minimal complaint (well, some complaint...well, just a little bitching), so can he.
He's starting to contemplate how long it would take to get everything back to a comfortable level when he hears a slight cough behind him. Arthur doesn't even turn to look, just grabs the scissors he'd brought in the bathroom with him and starts trimming carefully.
"If you wanted to watch, Eames, all you had to do was say so," Arthur says between snips.
"I hardly want to watch, darling," Eames growls, voice low and gravelly. Arthur freezes momentarily before continuing his task, trying to appear unaffected. His stomach is swooping, turning, flipping wildly.
It's not like he and Eames didn't spend the better part of last night fucking their brains out, Eames pressing him into the bed, then Arthur tying Eames' hands behind his back and fucking him mercilessly. It had been months since they'd last seen each other and who knew how long it would be this time? Arthur wasn't going to miss his chance to get his hands (and assorted other body parts) on Eames for what may be the last time this year.
"What, you want to trim my pubic hair for me?" Arthur asks with a smirk. Eames comes into his vision, one hand curling around Arthur's hip, the other reaching for the scissors.
"Hardly," he repeats. "Have you ever thought about going bald, darling?" Eames' mouth is on Arthur's neck as he lightly tosses the scissors away, laying his now empty hand against Arthur's side. His touch practically burns Arthur's skin. Arthur couldn't prevent the moan that escapes if he tried.
"I was just considering waxing," Arthur replies, breath hitching a bit as Eames sucks a bruise to life just below his ear. "Bu-but I hear that's painful."
"Let me." Eames' voice is barely more than a whisper against Arthur's skin. All he can do is nod in response. Dear god, if Eames is going to wax him...
But no, Eames positions Arthur against the free side of the vanity, dragging a chair in from the main room to sit on and prop Arthur's feet against his knees. Arthur has a flash of self-consciousness at having everything so blatantly on display, but Eames is looking at him with almost scientific interest, like he's trying to forge Arthur's cock or something. Arthur's about to ask what he's up to when Eames reaches across and grabs the razor. His eyes go wide at the prospect of something that sharp so close to what are arguably his most important bits, but Eames is careful, has never been anything less than perfectly careful with Arthur.
It takes less than ten minutes before Arthur is scraped bare, the tingling sensation of shaving cream still lingering on his skin. He feels cleaner than he'd expected, having only ever trimmed down there. Eames runs two fingers across Arthur's abdomen, down past his cock, barely brushing the side, and Arthur's body erupts in flames of sensation.
"Holy fuck," he breathes, ducking his head forward.
Eames just smirks, all knowing and cocky like the asshole that he is, and leans forward to leave dirty, open-mouthed kisses along Arthur's hip, following the searing trail of his hand. He hasn't even touched Arthur's cock yet and he's standing at full mast.
Eames hums against Arthur's skin and gives his freshly-shaven skin one last lick before pulling back. "Thought you might like that," he says, still smirking. Arthur can't decide if he wants to punch him or fuck him into next week (a common dilemma, to be sure). Eames makes his decision for him when he takes Arthur's cock deep in his mouth and hums again, this time his throat muscles flapping lightly against the head of Arthur's dick, his lips vibrating softly against the still sensitive skin at its base. Arthur's hips buck and he cries out, fingers tightening on the vanity. He's glad he's still got his legs propped against Eames' knees, grateful for the leverage has he tries to fuck Eames' beautiful mouth. Eames is too smart for that, despite appearances, and holds Arthur still, his sheer weight keeping Arthur in place. His thumbs brush over Arthur's skin and it starts to feel almost raw in the most excellent of ways.
Eames is bobbing his head and smiling (smiling as he gives a fucking blowjob, the asshole) when Arthur's hands fly to his head, fingers losing themselves in his hair and directing the motion for all of two seconds. Eames' only warning is the guttural cry that erupts from Arthur's mouth - a sound he'd not ever heard, but oh god he'd pay good money to hear that again. Arthur comes, hot and hard down Eames' throat and he takes it all. Takes it in stride because this was what he'd asked for, after all.
"Holy fuck," Arthur breathes, chest still lightly heaving as Eames pulls back and begins to dab him with tissues.
"Hmm," Eames hums again, infuriatingly. "Thought you might like that."
"You are doing that again," Arthur says, voice steadier, more commanding now that he was coming down off his high.
"The shaving or the blowjob?" Eames asks. He raises his eyes to meet Arthur's for the first time since he'd entered the room.
"Both."
Fandom: Inception
Pairing/Genre: Arthur/Eames; porn
Rating: R
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Eames' mouth is on Arthur's neck as he lightly tosses the scissors away, laying his now empty hand against Arthur's side. His touch practically burns Arthur's skin. Arthur couldn't prevent the moan that escapes if he tried.
Notes: Man, when I write for a new fandom, I certainly like to go in with a bang, eh? This is the third fandom I've started with porn. *kanyeshrug* Written for cherrybina's Kink Fest; originally posted HERE. Prompt: Eames likes to do Arthur's intimate shaving himself. Arthur loves how sensitive he is afterwards. It gets him hot like nothing else.
•••••
Arthur's standing in the bathroom of the hotel room blatantly examining himself. He's naked from the waist down and seriously starting to wonder if he shouldn't just wax every 6-to-8 weeks. Arthur's not terribly fond of having his hair ripped from his body, but hey, if Ariadne can do it with minimal complaint (well, some complaint...well, just a little bitching), so can he.
He's starting to contemplate how long it would take to get everything back to a comfortable level when he hears a slight cough behind him. Arthur doesn't even turn to look, just grabs the scissors he'd brought in the bathroom with him and starts trimming carefully.
"If you wanted to watch, Eames, all you had to do was say so," Arthur says between snips.
"I hardly want to watch, darling," Eames growls, voice low and gravelly. Arthur freezes momentarily before continuing his task, trying to appear unaffected. His stomach is swooping, turning, flipping wildly.
It's not like he and Eames didn't spend the better part of last night fucking their brains out, Eames pressing him into the bed, then Arthur tying Eames' hands behind his back and fucking him mercilessly. It had been months since they'd last seen each other and who knew how long it would be this time? Arthur wasn't going to miss his chance to get his hands (and assorted other body parts) on Eames for what may be the last time this year.
"What, you want to trim my pubic hair for me?" Arthur asks with a smirk. Eames comes into his vision, one hand curling around Arthur's hip, the other reaching for the scissors.
"Hardly," he repeats. "Have you ever thought about going bald, darling?" Eames' mouth is on Arthur's neck as he lightly tosses the scissors away, laying his now empty hand against Arthur's side. His touch practically burns Arthur's skin. Arthur couldn't prevent the moan that escapes if he tried.
"I was just considering waxing," Arthur replies, breath hitching a bit as Eames sucks a bruise to life just below his ear. "Bu-but I hear that's painful."
"Let me." Eames' voice is barely more than a whisper against Arthur's skin. All he can do is nod in response. Dear god, if Eames is going to wax him...
But no, Eames positions Arthur against the free side of the vanity, dragging a chair in from the main room to sit on and prop Arthur's feet against his knees. Arthur has a flash of self-consciousness at having everything so blatantly on display, but Eames is looking at him with almost scientific interest, like he's trying to forge Arthur's cock or something. Arthur's about to ask what he's up to when Eames reaches across and grabs the razor. His eyes go wide at the prospect of something that sharp so close to what are arguably his most important bits, but Eames is careful, has never been anything less than perfectly careful with Arthur.
It takes less than ten minutes before Arthur is scraped bare, the tingling sensation of shaving cream still lingering on his skin. He feels cleaner than he'd expected, having only ever trimmed down there. Eames runs two fingers across Arthur's abdomen, down past his cock, barely brushing the side, and Arthur's body erupts in flames of sensation.
"Holy fuck," he breathes, ducking his head forward.
Eames just smirks, all knowing and cocky like the asshole that he is, and leans forward to leave dirty, open-mouthed kisses along Arthur's hip, following the searing trail of his hand. He hasn't even touched Arthur's cock yet and he's standing at full mast.
Eames hums against Arthur's skin and gives his freshly-shaven skin one last lick before pulling back. "Thought you might like that," he says, still smirking. Arthur can't decide if he wants to punch him or fuck him into next week (a common dilemma, to be sure). Eames makes his decision for him when he takes Arthur's cock deep in his mouth and hums again, this time his throat muscles flapping lightly against the head of Arthur's dick, his lips vibrating softly against the still sensitive skin at its base. Arthur's hips buck and he cries out, fingers tightening on the vanity. He's glad he's still got his legs propped against Eames' knees, grateful for the leverage has he tries to fuck Eames' beautiful mouth. Eames is too smart for that, despite appearances, and holds Arthur still, his sheer weight keeping Arthur in place. His thumbs brush over Arthur's skin and it starts to feel almost raw in the most excellent of ways.
Eames is bobbing his head and smiling (smiling as he gives a fucking blowjob, the asshole) when Arthur's hands fly to his head, fingers losing themselves in his hair and directing the motion for all of two seconds. Eames' only warning is the guttural cry that erupts from Arthur's mouth - a sound he'd not ever heard, but oh god he'd pay good money to hear that again. Arthur comes, hot and hard down Eames' throat and he takes it all. Takes it in stride because this was what he'd asked for, after all.
"Holy fuck," Arthur breathes, chest still lightly heaving as Eames pulls back and begins to dab him with tissues.
"Hmm," Eames hums again, infuriatingly. "Thought you might like that."
"You are doing that again," Arthur says, voice steadier, more commanding now that he was coming down off his high.
"The shaving or the blowjob?" Eames asks. He raises his eyes to meet Arthur's for the first time since he'd entered the room.
"Both."