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Aug. 3rd, 2010 11:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cathybitesderailed
[inception, arthur/eames, nc-17, 692 words]
written for this prompt: Eames/Arthur up against the wall of a shower. Bonus points for Eames completely wrapping his legs around Arthur.
aklsadkdjasdajda coming up with titles is hardest thing EVER. bleh.
"This is a bad idea," Arthur says, but he doesn't sound very convincing to his own ears.
Nor to Eames, it would seem, judging by the grin Arthur can feel against his throat. "On the contrary, I think it's a brilliant idea. Perhaps my best one yet."
It's hard to argue against that, especially when Eames is pressed against him, skin warm and wet from the shower spray. Arthur tilts his head back, lets the water fall upon his face, and Eames takes the opportunity to kiss a trail up Arthur's neck, teeth scraping lightly against the thin skin of his jawline.
Arthur shudders, then nods. "Yeah, okay. Okay," he says, even though he still doesn't know how this will work without causing serious injury to either of them.
Eames has no qualms, though. He leans back against the tiled wall, grin wide on his face, and hooks one leg around Arthur's waist, drawing him closer.
Water beats against his back, but Arthur barely registers it, all his concentration focused on Eames grabbing his wrist, drawing his hand down. Arthur presses the pads of fingers against Eames' hole, rubbing lightly before pressing two in.
Eames moans, arches off the wall, and Arthur twists his hand, works his fingers to stretch Eames, water streaming down the cut of Eames' hips, down to Arthur's hand.
He adds a third, and Eames's hands curl into Arthur's shoulders, fingers digging in. His hips push down, and the vision of Eames fucking down onto his fingers spikes heat through Arthur's body. He draws his fingers out, and Eames barely gets to voice a protest before Arthur is positioning himself, cockhead pressing in slowly.
"Christ," Eames says, and Arthur leans forward, catches his mouth in a desperate kiss as he buries himself. He fucks into Eames, but the angle is wrong, too shallow, and he growls in frustration. "This isn't going to work."
"Hold tight," Eames says, and before Arthur can question what he means, he's drawing his leg tighter around Arthur's waist, holding him fast. Then, without any other warning, the other leg comes up, and Arthur has to scramble to grab ahold of it. An image flashes in his head of Cobb finding them both lying on the bathrooom floor naked, dead from broken necks, but it's chased away by Eames' breathless laughter against his mouth.
Arthur groans, hips screwing up hard to keep Eames pinned up against the wall. "That's it, love," Eames says, head tilting forward to breathe against Arthur's ear. "Just like that."
"You're going to be the death of me."
Eames just laughs again, throaty and full until Arthur finds his balance and is able to work his hips into just the right rhythm.
It's not easy, not that anything with Eames ever is. Arthur's grip constantly slides on Eames' slick skin, and his legs ache with the effort of keeping them both upright, but it's so worth it for the way Eames twists to meet his thrusts, for the way he moans and gasps when Arthur hits just the right spot inside of him. Arthur presses his forehead to Eames' shoulder, hooks his arms under his legs, watches as his cock slides in and out.
Eames is hot all over, tight around Arthur's cock, and too soon, Arthur can feel the coil of heat tightening around the base of spine, hot sparks shooting through his veins. "Eames," he says, mouth open against Eames' throat. "Eames."
Everything happens at once. Arthur bites down on his lip, hips rutting up as he comes. Eames squeezes him closer, fingernails scratching into his back, warmth splattering between their bodies.
And Arthur's legs give out, feet sliding along the bottom of the tub as he falls...
Arthur jerks awake, feet sliding uselessly against the mattress. He bolts upright, sucking in air, then grimacing when he realizes the boxers he has on are soaked and sticky. He flops back, groaning before looking to his left and glaring.
Eames wakes up in the bed next to him much more languorously, stretching shamelessly and throwing a satisfied smile at Arthur. "We really should try that in real life sometime."
comments loved. thank you for reading!
[inception, arthur/eames, nc-17, 692 words]
written for this prompt: Eames/Arthur up against the wall of a shower. Bonus points for Eames completely wrapping his legs around Arthur.
aklsadkdjasdajda coming up with titles is hardest thing EVER. bleh.
"This is a bad idea," Arthur says, but he doesn't sound very convincing to his own ears.
Nor to Eames, it would seem, judging by the grin Arthur can feel against his throat. "On the contrary, I think it's a brilliant idea. Perhaps my best one yet."
It's hard to argue against that, especially when Eames is pressed against him, skin warm and wet from the shower spray. Arthur tilts his head back, lets the water fall upon his face, and Eames takes the opportunity to kiss a trail up Arthur's neck, teeth scraping lightly against the thin skin of his jawline.
Arthur shudders, then nods. "Yeah, okay. Okay," he says, even though he still doesn't know how this will work without causing serious injury to either of them.
Eames has no qualms, though. He leans back against the tiled wall, grin wide on his face, and hooks one leg around Arthur's waist, drawing him closer.
Water beats against his back, but Arthur barely registers it, all his concentration focused on Eames grabbing his wrist, drawing his hand down. Arthur presses the pads of fingers against Eames' hole, rubbing lightly before pressing two in.
Eames moans, arches off the wall, and Arthur twists his hand, works his fingers to stretch Eames, water streaming down the cut of Eames' hips, down to Arthur's hand.
He adds a third, and Eames's hands curl into Arthur's shoulders, fingers digging in. His hips push down, and the vision of Eames fucking down onto his fingers spikes heat through Arthur's body. He draws his fingers out, and Eames barely gets to voice a protest before Arthur is positioning himself, cockhead pressing in slowly.
"Christ," Eames says, and Arthur leans forward, catches his mouth in a desperate kiss as he buries himself. He fucks into Eames, but the angle is wrong, too shallow, and he growls in frustration. "This isn't going to work."
"Hold tight," Eames says, and before Arthur can question what he means, he's drawing his leg tighter around Arthur's waist, holding him fast. Then, without any other warning, the other leg comes up, and Arthur has to scramble to grab ahold of it. An image flashes in his head of Cobb finding them both lying on the bathrooom floor naked, dead from broken necks, but it's chased away by Eames' breathless laughter against his mouth.
Arthur groans, hips screwing up hard to keep Eames pinned up against the wall. "That's it, love," Eames says, head tilting forward to breathe against Arthur's ear. "Just like that."
"You're going to be the death of me."
Eames just laughs again, throaty and full until Arthur finds his balance and is able to work his hips into just the right rhythm.
It's not easy, not that anything with Eames ever is. Arthur's grip constantly slides on Eames' slick skin, and his legs ache with the effort of keeping them both upright, but it's so worth it for the way Eames twists to meet his thrusts, for the way he moans and gasps when Arthur hits just the right spot inside of him. Arthur presses his forehead to Eames' shoulder, hooks his arms under his legs, watches as his cock slides in and out.
Eames is hot all over, tight around Arthur's cock, and too soon, Arthur can feel the coil of heat tightening around the base of spine, hot sparks shooting through his veins. "Eames," he says, mouth open against Eames' throat. "Eames."
Everything happens at once. Arthur bites down on his lip, hips rutting up as he comes. Eames squeezes him closer, fingernails scratching into his back, warmth splattering between their bodies.
And Arthur's legs give out, feet sliding along the bottom of the tub as he falls...
Arthur jerks awake, feet sliding uselessly against the mattress. He bolts upright, sucking in air, then grimacing when he realizes the boxers he has on are soaked and sticky. He flops back, groaning before looking to his left and glaring.
Eames wakes up in the bed next to him much more languorously, stretching shamelessly and throwing a satisfied smile at Arthur. "We really should try that in real life sometime."
comments loved. thank you for reading!
