(no subject)
title: Sour Belts
pairing: Arthur/Eames
word count: 3000+
notes: Written for relinquitespes' wonderful prompt here @ inception_kink.
Eames did this to himself and he knows it.
He and Arthur had gotten into a particularly heated argument resulting in Arthur storming out of the building leaving Eames to mill around feeling guilty that most of their work was put on hold until the following day while everyone packed up to leave for the evening. And so, knowing Arthur would be back to catch up on his work even while everyone had already gone, Eames had picked up a bag of his favorite candy, sour belts, and left it on his desk before retreating to his own desk a few feet away to do a little research on the subject he'd be forging for their next job while he waited for Arthur to return.
And when Arthur finally did, Eames tried to act busy while he watched him sit down at his desk from the corner of his eyes, smirking smugly at the contemplative noise and rustling of the bag being opened to pull one of the belts out.
He doesn't say anything to Eames as he picks back up on his work, just sits quietly, eating the candy obviously left by him.
Eames takes it as a sign of forgiveness though, because no one knows Arthur's sweet tooth like he does, and tries concentrate back on his own work.
Only he can't. Arthur keeps making these soft little suckling and slurping noises, humming in quiet pleasure and really, how could anyone be expected to get anything done with the mental images it produces? As hard as he tries, he can't get them out of his head long enough to focus on anything else but the sounds filling the quiet air between them.
"Arthur, please, be a little quieter?" He doesn't want to seem so irritated by it, but he really needs to get stuff done and Arthur's making it impossible. "Sorry, just trying to concentrate."
Arthur just stops what he's doing to stare blankly at him for a moment. "I'm not..." he furrowed his eyebrows trying to figure out what exactly Eames wanted him to stop before deciding to just nod like he understood. "Okay, sorry." And then goes right back to work, ignoring his candy for a few minutes to work something out much to Eames relief.
It isn't long though before it starts again and seriously, Eames can't take it. He can already feel his cock starting to strain against his pants and tries to bite his lip to ineffectively stop the soft, unintelligible noise he makes that causes Arthur to look up at him again.
"Everything alright, Eames?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, everything's fine, darling." He tries to look as convincing as possible, but he can tell Arthur doesn't quite believe him.
"Okay," he says though and, again, goes back to work and sucking on his, thankfully, last sour belt.
Which Eames handles well, avoiding glances over at him and tapping his pen against his papers to drowned out the noise until Arthur finishes.
But he's not done. As soon as he finishes the last sour belt, Arthur begins licking and sucking the sugar from his fingers. Placing the end of his finger in his mouth and slowly dragging it out with a wet pop. He looks focused on his work, but Eames is convinced it's deliberate. No one gets sugar off their fingers like that unless their intentions are to torment. Which are obviously Arthur's with the way he drags his tongue up the underside of each finger and sucks on the end again just to make sure he's got it all; it's pure torture.
"Are you doing that on purpose?" Eames finally snaps, letting out an exasperated sigh once the words have left his mouth.
"What on purpose?" Arthur looks honestly confused, but Eames' could swear he sees something dark flicker behind such a calculated look.
"That- what you're doing with- I bought you those sour belts to eat, not to fucking torment me with." Eames knows he's probably not making much sense, but can anyone really blame him?
"I have no idea what you're talking about." And that definitely doesn't sound at all innocent as Arthur gets up from his chair to step into Eames' space. Eyes darkening as he perches on the edge of his desk in front of him and brings a finger back up to his mouth, licking and sucking on it slowly with his eyes glued to Eames'.
"That," Eames' nearly chokes. Swallowing thickly as he watches up closer the way his finger curls slightly as he pulls it out of his mouth and then his tongue flicking over it causing Eames to groan low in throat.
Arthur just makes a noise of acknowledgment and smirks from behind his finger before lowering hand. "Everything alright, Eames?" He asks for a second time, pushing off the desk again and lower himself over Eames as he leans in close. Breathing hot against his skin and meeting his eyes again, challenging him to close the gap as his smirk grows wider.
Eames just swallows again, caught almost completely off guard as Arthur leans over him, shivering slightly at his breath against his skin and bringing his hands up instinctively to run up his chest. Curling one into his shirt while the other grips his tie. "Fine, darling," he mumbles once his brain has caught up and leans up while pulled Arthur closer to crash their mouths together.
Arthur makes a noise of surprise like he wasn't actually expecting Eames to kiss him, but quickly melts into it and parts his lips easily when Eames' tongue licks over his bottom lip.
"Mm, you know, I imagine you taste like sour belts natural," Eames chuckles against his mouth, flicking his tongue over Arthur's bottom lip again before licking into his mouth. Chasing the sugary and sour as his hands slide down to his hips to pull him down into his lap, groaning in approval at the sudden contact and pressing up against Arthur as much as their position will allow.
"Fuck, Eames," Arthur gasps, letting Eames groan travel straight to his own quickly hardening cock as he presses back down against him. Kissing him harder trying to smoother any embarrassing sounds threatening to escape his throat.
Then Arthur is pulling away and Eames tries to protest, but Arthur just presses on last kiss to his mouth before sliding onto his knees on the floor. His devious smirk and dark eyes back burning holes into Eames flesh as he watches them sweep over his body while Arthur pushes his knees apart as much as they'll go. Positioning himself between them as he unbuckles Eames belt before working the button to pants undone and zipper down.
"Jesus, Eames, is it really that easy to get you going?" He teases as he slides a hand down into his pants to wrap his long, slender fingers around him and pulling him out to stroke him lazily. "I was just eating candy," he says innocently, but his laugh is devious as his eyes leaving Eames' to follow the motion of his hand as it slides up and down the length of his cock.
"It was the way you were eating it," Eames says defensively and only a moment later when Arthur twists his hand a little near the head causing his hips to buck up into it.
Arthur barely acknowledges Eames' argument, only nodding as he licks is lips slowly. Wetting them some before meeting Eames' eyes again as he leans forward with the darkest look, hand stilling on his cock to angle the head down closer and dragging it across his lower lip. Smearing precum there and darting his tongue out to lap at the head of his cock before taking it into his mouth.
Eames is sure he's about to lose it just watching him. Their eyes still locked as Arthur barely sinks is mouth onto his cock, keeping it shallow at first and hollowing his cheeks as he slowly works further down. And that's when Eames' hand finds it's why into Arthur's perfectly gelled hair, fisting it in hand and tugging slightly to urge Arthur to continue until he's taken nearly all of him and begins dragging his mouth back off of him before sinking back down.
And he's making the same noises he had been when sucking on his sour belts and it's exactly what Eames was picturing, only better because it's real. Arthur's lips are stretched perfectly over his cock as he picks up a steady pace, his hand working over what of him he can't take and eyes almost never faltering as they stay locked with Eames'. His free hand braced against Eames' thigh, fingers curling and digging into the flesh through his pants as he begins moaning around him.
It shoots sparks straight up his spine, causing him to vocalize even more his own pleasure. Moaning openly now and watching near awe as Arthur sucks his cock like it's all he wants to do for the rest of his life. Tongues swirling around the head as he pulls back before pushing forward again, coaxing Eames closer and closer to the edge until his head's swimming. "Arthur, Arthur," he tries to warn, but his voice is wrecked and he can't think enough to form his name coherently.
Arthur, somehow, gets it though and pulls off of him with an obscenely loud pop, producing an unintelligible whimper from Eames, and rests against his thigh lightly while trying to catch some of his breath. Eyes closing for a brief second as a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth at how utterly wrecked Eames looks and he hasn't even got completely off yet.
Eames let's him pull away with a moan of protest before uncurling his fingers from Arthur's hair and sinking back into his chair trying to catch his own breath as he watches the smirk forming on lips.m, looking way too proud of himself. "What's that look for than?"
Arthur just shakes his head and leans forward once more, licking over the top of his cock as he hands slid up his thighs to his stomach to make quick work undoing the buttons of his shirt. Kissing up every inch of exposed skin as it's revealed until he reaches the last on and pushes it back off his shoulders as much as he can while he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the delicate and perked flesh. One hand braced against his chest now while the other wraps loosely around Eames' spit-slicked cock, stroking loosely while he listens to the small noises Eames is making right above him.
"You're just trying to drive me mad," Eames mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear over all other noises falling from Eames' mouth while Arthur swirls his tongue around his nipple. Sucking and setting the ridges of his teeth against it to make Eames tremble at such stimulation, the same sweet noises continuing even as he switches his attention to the other one. Both feeling slightly raw and bruised, but standing at attention once Arthur's finished with them before he's attacking his throat as well.
Biting and sucking just below his Adam's apple, sure to leave a mark Eames would have to cover tomorrow, before sitting back on his knees while mouthing down his chest and stomach again. Dropping his hand from his chest down to the front of his own pants. Pressing into his erection and grinding against his hand while barely sucks the head if Eames' cock back into his mouth. Hand still stroking him slow and lazy as he bobs his head a little, eyes screwed shut now as he grinds shamelessly into his own hands and keeps making these desperately needy little noises.
Eames allows it for a few stretched out moments, enjoying the view and the needy little noises, but he's not a selfish lover like some might think and eventually decides Arthur needs a little taking care of. "Darling," Eames whines for his attention, hand gently stroking his cheek to stop him and tilt his chin up towards him as Arthur's hand slows to a stop, letting go and waiting with bated breath for him to continue. "As good as you look down there on your knees-" he starts, but loses the words to finish as he pulls Arthur up with him as he stands up out of his chair. Hand replacing Arthur's cupping him though his pants as he presses him back against the desk.
"Eames," Arthur whimpers low in his throat, eyes falling shut again and heading tipping back as he begins to grind into Eames' hand instead. His hands now working to get his own pants undone because the need to really be touched is growing greater the longer he grinds against Eames hand. "Please Eames," he begs once he gets them open, but Eames has a better idea.
Instead he just flashes Arthur a smirk and maneuvers him around to face Eames' desk, pressing his shoulders forward until he's leaning and bracing his hands against it while Eames tugs at his pants until slid down the back of his thighs. Trailing his hand slowly up the inside of one newly exposed thigh while reaching into his desk drawer for the half-empty bottle of lube tucked away in there.
Arthur snorts when he sees it, looking back and quirking his eyebrow up at Eames. "You keep lube in your desk drawer?" He asks like it's the most preposterous thing in the world. "For what?"
"What do you think I'm doing when you've got your back turned to me with your pants so wonderful accentuating such a perfect ass?" He replies quickly with a question, smacking his ass and grinning. "Always wanted to do that."
Arthur immediately flushes pink from the tips of his ears to his chest at Eames' reply. Quietly shocked for a moment before opening his mouth to throw back some witty remark of his own, only to be cut off by the swift smack to his ass. And he looks absolutely scandalized as he gasps, lurching forward a little before settling back while Eames' pops the cap of the bottle to coat his fingers.
"Ready, darling?" Eames asks, a single finger pressed against his entrance while waits for the nod before slowly pressing it into him and curling it slightly just to hear him whine. Shallowly beginning to thrust his finger in and out if him until Arthur began to relax before adding another finger. Thrusting with more purpose and twisting them inside of him, brushing against his prostate just to watch Arthur jerk forward before sinking back in Eames' fingers.
"Eames, will you just- Jesus Christ, c'mon," Arthur whimpers and groans impatiently once he'd relaxed around the third fingers. Eames is just teasing him now, trying to make him beg and it was working. Thankfully though, Eames had a problem of his own that could easily be solved by fixing Arthur's so it doesn't take too much begging before his fingers slip out to be replaced by Eames' cock pressing against him and they both moan at the feeling.
Eames tries to go slow, deciding he'd rather like to do this again do hurting Arthur doesn't seem like a good plan of action, but barely in and Arthur's pushing back onto him the rest of the way. Moaning as his muscles tighten around and listening to Arthur's broken panting as he begs Eames to move.
"For the love of God, Eames. I'm not some fragile little girl," he says, gritting his teeth in pleasure of being filled so wonderfully and frustration that Eames is acting like Arthur might break. "Well you just fucking move? Please."
Eames nods because Arthur's right, he's not at as as delicate as some like to imagine. Eames knows this from years of working on and off with him, so he begins go move. Pulling back and thrusting in harder and faster than before as Arthur lets out a pleased sigh of relief, hands gripping his hips firmly to pull him back as Eames' thrust forward even if Arthur is managing it fine by himself.
Soon the empty warehouse is filled with the echoing sounds of their moaning and broken whimpers. Jumbled words filling the space around them as Arthur claws desperately at Eames' desk and paperwork, crumpling pages and surely mixing papers up as he tries to stay leveraged against the desk while Eames fucks him.
Unsurprisingly, Eames cums first buried deep inside of Arthur with a wrecked moan of Arthur's name along with a string of curses. Usually he was skilled at holding out, but after the amazing, better-than-fantasy blow-job he'd received from Arthur, who could blame him? Arthur, probably, if he wasn't gasping and still moving his hips in time with Eames' while he rode out his orgasm. Snaking his hand around to stroke Arthur over the edge while a twist of his wrist and final thrust before collapsing against his back. Nose pressed against his sweat soaked shirt as he came down and straightened up to pull out all the way.
"Hope these weren't important," Arthur says as he straightens up as well and tucks himself back into his pants before gesturing towards some of the papers at the edge of Eames' desk now spattered with cum. Then attempts to clean up with the arm of what Eames realizes is his jacket he'd thrown on top of his desk earlier.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? That's my only clean jacket," he says, taking it from Arthur and scrunching his nose. "Or it was."
Arthur just laughs. "You're really more worried about your jacket than paperwork?"
"It's just paper, but this- this is a statement piece essential to my outfit," Eames tells him seriously, like it should obviously be held in the utmost importance.
"I think you mean ugly, Eames," Arthur corrects. "It's by far the worst thing I've seen you wear."
"You just don't know how to appreciate it's intricate detail and color palette, darling. You stick with your blues and grays and other such boring colors, your ties are the only thing you've got going for you."
Arthur just laughs again and shakes his head, of course they'd be back at their usual banter even after potentially mind-blowing sex against Eames' desk in their warehouse where, really, anyone could stayed behind or come back for something and caught them. "Thanks for the sour belts, Eames," he says, brushing his fingers of Eames' still exposed chest and smirking as he leans up to kiss him.
"Anytime, darling." Eames did this to himself and he doesn't regret it at all.
pairing: Arthur/Eames
word count: 3000+
notes: Written for relinquitespes' wonderful prompt here @ inception_kink.
Eames did this to himself and he knows it.
He and Arthur had gotten into a particularly heated argument resulting in Arthur storming out of the building leaving Eames to mill around feeling guilty that most of their work was put on hold until the following day while everyone packed up to leave for the evening. And so, knowing Arthur would be back to catch up on his work even while everyone had already gone, Eames had picked up a bag of his favorite candy, sour belts, and left it on his desk before retreating to his own desk a few feet away to do a little research on the subject he'd be forging for their next job while he waited for Arthur to return.
And when Arthur finally did, Eames tried to act busy while he watched him sit down at his desk from the corner of his eyes, smirking smugly at the contemplative noise and rustling of the bag being opened to pull one of the belts out.
He doesn't say anything to Eames as he picks back up on his work, just sits quietly, eating the candy obviously left by him.
Eames takes it as a sign of forgiveness though, because no one knows Arthur's sweet tooth like he does, and tries concentrate back on his own work.
Only he can't. Arthur keeps making these soft little suckling and slurping noises, humming in quiet pleasure and really, how could anyone be expected to get anything done with the mental images it produces? As hard as he tries, he can't get them out of his head long enough to focus on anything else but the sounds filling the quiet air between them.
"Arthur, please, be a little quieter?" He doesn't want to seem so irritated by it, but he really needs to get stuff done and Arthur's making it impossible. "Sorry, just trying to concentrate."
Arthur just stops what he's doing to stare blankly at him for a moment. "I'm not..." he furrowed his eyebrows trying to figure out what exactly Eames wanted him to stop before deciding to just nod like he understood. "Okay, sorry." And then goes right back to work, ignoring his candy for a few minutes to work something out much to Eames relief.
It isn't long though before it starts again and seriously, Eames can't take it. He can already feel his cock starting to strain against his pants and tries to bite his lip to ineffectively stop the soft, unintelligible noise he makes that causes Arthur to look up at him again.
"Everything alright, Eames?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, everything's fine, darling." He tries to look as convincing as possible, but he can tell Arthur doesn't quite believe him.
"Okay," he says though and, again, goes back to work and sucking on his, thankfully, last sour belt.
Which Eames handles well, avoiding glances over at him and tapping his pen against his papers to drowned out the noise until Arthur finishes.
But he's not done. As soon as he finishes the last sour belt, Arthur begins licking and sucking the sugar from his fingers. Placing the end of his finger in his mouth and slowly dragging it out with a wet pop. He looks focused on his work, but Eames is convinced it's deliberate. No one gets sugar off their fingers like that unless their intentions are to torment. Which are obviously Arthur's with the way he drags his tongue up the underside of each finger and sucks on the end again just to make sure he's got it all; it's pure torture.
"Are you doing that on purpose?" Eames finally snaps, letting out an exasperated sigh once the words have left his mouth.
"What on purpose?" Arthur looks honestly confused, but Eames' could swear he sees something dark flicker behind such a calculated look.
"That- what you're doing with- I bought you those sour belts to eat, not to fucking torment me with." Eames knows he's probably not making much sense, but can anyone really blame him?
"I have no idea what you're talking about." And that definitely doesn't sound at all innocent as Arthur gets up from his chair to step into Eames' space. Eyes darkening as he perches on the edge of his desk in front of him and brings a finger back up to his mouth, licking and sucking on it slowly with his eyes glued to Eames'.
"That," Eames' nearly chokes. Swallowing thickly as he watches up closer the way his finger curls slightly as he pulls it out of his mouth and then his tongue flicking over it causing Eames to groan low in throat.
Arthur just makes a noise of acknowledgment and smirks from behind his finger before lowering hand. "Everything alright, Eames?" He asks for a second time, pushing off the desk again and lower himself over Eames as he leans in close. Breathing hot against his skin and meeting his eyes again, challenging him to close the gap as his smirk grows wider.
Eames just swallows again, caught almost completely off guard as Arthur leans over him, shivering slightly at his breath against his skin and bringing his hands up instinctively to run up his chest. Curling one into his shirt while the other grips his tie. "Fine, darling," he mumbles once his brain has caught up and leans up while pulled Arthur closer to crash their mouths together.
Arthur makes a noise of surprise like he wasn't actually expecting Eames to kiss him, but quickly melts into it and parts his lips easily when Eames' tongue licks over his bottom lip.
"Mm, you know, I imagine you taste like sour belts natural," Eames chuckles against his mouth, flicking his tongue over Arthur's bottom lip again before licking into his mouth. Chasing the sugary and sour as his hands slide down to his hips to pull him down into his lap, groaning in approval at the sudden contact and pressing up against Arthur as much as their position will allow.
"Fuck, Eames," Arthur gasps, letting Eames groan travel straight to his own quickly hardening cock as he presses back down against him. Kissing him harder trying to smoother any embarrassing sounds threatening to escape his throat.
Then Arthur is pulling away and Eames tries to protest, but Arthur just presses on last kiss to his mouth before sliding onto his knees on the floor. His devious smirk and dark eyes back burning holes into Eames flesh as he watches them sweep over his body while Arthur pushes his knees apart as much as they'll go. Positioning himself between them as he unbuckles Eames belt before working the button to pants undone and zipper down.
"Jesus, Eames, is it really that easy to get you going?" He teases as he slides a hand down into his pants to wrap his long, slender fingers around him and pulling him out to stroke him lazily. "I was just eating candy," he says innocently, but his laugh is devious as his eyes leaving Eames' to follow the motion of his hand as it slides up and down the length of his cock.
"It was the way you were eating it," Eames says defensively and only a moment later when Arthur twists his hand a little near the head causing his hips to buck up into it.
Arthur barely acknowledges Eames' argument, only nodding as he licks is lips slowly. Wetting them some before meeting Eames' eyes again as he leans forward with the darkest look, hand stilling on his cock to angle the head down closer and dragging it across his lower lip. Smearing precum there and darting his tongue out to lap at the head of his cock before taking it into his mouth.
Eames is sure he's about to lose it just watching him. Their eyes still locked as Arthur barely sinks is mouth onto his cock, keeping it shallow at first and hollowing his cheeks as he slowly works further down. And that's when Eames' hand finds it's why into Arthur's perfectly gelled hair, fisting it in hand and tugging slightly to urge Arthur to continue until he's taken nearly all of him and begins dragging his mouth back off of him before sinking back down.
And he's making the same noises he had been when sucking on his sour belts and it's exactly what Eames was picturing, only better because it's real. Arthur's lips are stretched perfectly over his cock as he picks up a steady pace, his hand working over what of him he can't take and eyes almost never faltering as they stay locked with Eames'. His free hand braced against Eames' thigh, fingers curling and digging into the flesh through his pants as he begins moaning around him.
It shoots sparks straight up his spine, causing him to vocalize even more his own pleasure. Moaning openly now and watching near awe as Arthur sucks his cock like it's all he wants to do for the rest of his life. Tongues swirling around the head as he pulls back before pushing forward again, coaxing Eames closer and closer to the edge until his head's swimming. "Arthur, Arthur," he tries to warn, but his voice is wrecked and he can't think enough to form his name coherently.
Arthur, somehow, gets it though and pulls off of him with an obscenely loud pop, producing an unintelligible whimper from Eames, and rests against his thigh lightly while trying to catch some of his breath. Eyes closing for a brief second as a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth at how utterly wrecked Eames looks and he hasn't even got completely off yet.
Eames let's him pull away with a moan of protest before uncurling his fingers from Arthur's hair and sinking back into his chair trying to catch his own breath as he watches the smirk forming on lips.m, looking way too proud of himself. "What's that look for than?"
Arthur just shakes his head and leans forward once more, licking over the top of his cock as he hands slid up his thighs to his stomach to make quick work undoing the buttons of his shirt. Kissing up every inch of exposed skin as it's revealed until he reaches the last on and pushes it back off his shoulders as much as he can while he sucks one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the delicate and perked flesh. One hand braced against his chest now while the other wraps loosely around Eames' spit-slicked cock, stroking loosely while he listens to the small noises Eames is making right above him.
"You're just trying to drive me mad," Eames mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear over all other noises falling from Eames' mouth while Arthur swirls his tongue around his nipple. Sucking and setting the ridges of his teeth against it to make Eames tremble at such stimulation, the same sweet noises continuing even as he switches his attention to the other one. Both feeling slightly raw and bruised, but standing at attention once Arthur's finished with them before he's attacking his throat as well.
Biting and sucking just below his Adam's apple, sure to leave a mark Eames would have to cover tomorrow, before sitting back on his knees while mouthing down his chest and stomach again. Dropping his hand from his chest down to the front of his own pants. Pressing into his erection and grinding against his hand while barely sucks the head if Eames' cock back into his mouth. Hand still stroking him slow and lazy as he bobs his head a little, eyes screwed shut now as he grinds shamelessly into his own hands and keeps making these desperately needy little noises.
Eames allows it for a few stretched out moments, enjoying the view and the needy little noises, but he's not a selfish lover like some might think and eventually decides Arthur needs a little taking care of. "Darling," Eames whines for his attention, hand gently stroking his cheek to stop him and tilt his chin up towards him as Arthur's hand slows to a stop, letting go and waiting with bated breath for him to continue. "As good as you look down there on your knees-" he starts, but loses the words to finish as he pulls Arthur up with him as he stands up out of his chair. Hand replacing Arthur's cupping him though his pants as he presses him back against the desk.
"Eames," Arthur whimpers low in his throat, eyes falling shut again and heading tipping back as he begins to grind into Eames' hand instead. His hands now working to get his own pants undone because the need to really be touched is growing greater the longer he grinds against Eames hand. "Please Eames," he begs once he gets them open, but Eames has a better idea.
Instead he just flashes Arthur a smirk and maneuvers him around to face Eames' desk, pressing his shoulders forward until he's leaning and bracing his hands against it while Eames tugs at his pants until slid down the back of his thighs. Trailing his hand slowly up the inside of one newly exposed thigh while reaching into his desk drawer for the half-empty bottle of lube tucked away in there.
Arthur snorts when he sees it, looking back and quirking his eyebrow up at Eames. "You keep lube in your desk drawer?" He asks like it's the most preposterous thing in the world. "For what?"
"What do you think I'm doing when you've got your back turned to me with your pants so wonderful accentuating such a perfect ass?" He replies quickly with a question, smacking his ass and grinning. "Always wanted to do that."
Arthur immediately flushes pink from the tips of his ears to his chest at Eames' reply. Quietly shocked for a moment before opening his mouth to throw back some witty remark of his own, only to be cut off by the swift smack to his ass. And he looks absolutely scandalized as he gasps, lurching forward a little before settling back while Eames' pops the cap of the bottle to coat his fingers.
"Ready, darling?" Eames asks, a single finger pressed against his entrance while waits for the nod before slowly pressing it into him and curling it slightly just to hear him whine. Shallowly beginning to thrust his finger in and out if him until Arthur began to relax before adding another finger. Thrusting with more purpose and twisting them inside of him, brushing against his prostate just to watch Arthur jerk forward before sinking back in Eames' fingers.
"Eames, will you just- Jesus Christ, c'mon," Arthur whimpers and groans impatiently once he'd relaxed around the third fingers. Eames is just teasing him now, trying to make him beg and it was working. Thankfully though, Eames had a problem of his own that could easily be solved by fixing Arthur's so it doesn't take too much begging before his fingers slip out to be replaced by Eames' cock pressing against him and they both moan at the feeling.
Eames tries to go slow, deciding he'd rather like to do this again do hurting Arthur doesn't seem like a good plan of action, but barely in and Arthur's pushing back onto him the rest of the way. Moaning as his muscles tighten around and listening to Arthur's broken panting as he begs Eames to move.
"For the love of God, Eames. I'm not some fragile little girl," he says, gritting his teeth in pleasure of being filled so wonderfully and frustration that Eames is acting like Arthur might break. "Well you just fucking move? Please."
Eames nods because Arthur's right, he's not at as as delicate as some like to imagine. Eames knows this from years of working on and off with him, so he begins go move. Pulling back and thrusting in harder and faster than before as Arthur lets out a pleased sigh of relief, hands gripping his hips firmly to pull him back as Eames' thrust forward even if Arthur is managing it fine by himself.
Soon the empty warehouse is filled with the echoing sounds of their moaning and broken whimpers. Jumbled words filling the space around them as Arthur claws desperately at Eames' desk and paperwork, crumpling pages and surely mixing papers up as he tries to stay leveraged against the desk while Eames fucks him.
Unsurprisingly, Eames cums first buried deep inside of Arthur with a wrecked moan of Arthur's name along with a string of curses. Usually he was skilled at holding out, but after the amazing, better-than-fantasy blow-job he'd received from Arthur, who could blame him? Arthur, probably, if he wasn't gasping and still moving his hips in time with Eames' while he rode out his orgasm. Snaking his hand around to stroke Arthur over the edge while a twist of his wrist and final thrust before collapsing against his back. Nose pressed against his sweat soaked shirt as he came down and straightened up to pull out all the way.
"Hope these weren't important," Arthur says as he straightens up as well and tucks himself back into his pants before gesturing towards some of the papers at the edge of Eames' desk now spattered with cum. Then attempts to clean up with the arm of what Eames realizes is his jacket he'd thrown on top of his desk earlier.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? That's my only clean jacket," he says, taking it from Arthur and scrunching his nose. "Or it was."
Arthur just laughs. "You're really more worried about your jacket than paperwork?"
"It's just paper, but this- this is a statement piece essential to my outfit," Eames tells him seriously, like it should obviously be held in the utmost importance.
"I think you mean ugly, Eames," Arthur corrects. "It's by far the worst thing I've seen you wear."
"You just don't know how to appreciate it's intricate detail and color palette, darling. You stick with your blues and grays and other such boring colors, your ties are the only thing you've got going for you."
Arthur just laughs again and shakes his head, of course they'd be back at their usual banter even after potentially mind-blowing sex against Eames' desk in their warehouse where, really, anyone could stayed behind or come back for something and caught them. "Thanks for the sour belts, Eames," he says, brushing his fingers of Eames' still exposed chest and smirking as he leans up to kiss him.
"Anytime, darling." Eames did this to himself and he doesn't regret it at all.