Fic: Meet Me in the Bathroom
Title: Meet Me in the Bathroom
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Uh they bone in a bar bathroom.
Author's Notes: It's porn night for sorrynotsorry! \o/ Written to be bite-sized.
Word Count: ~1K
Arthur is the sort of person who refuses to pay for hotel wi-fi when he can get it for free literally any other place, thank you very much, which is why Eames isn't surprised to see him hunched over his laptop at bar at 2 am, hacking into the financial records of a Senator’s office. He’s drinking something that is apparently made from all local organic ingredients, but with alcohol, and he’s got a bowl of popcorn, and there are people in suits laughing and flirting around him.
Arthur is often that guy, which Eames sometimes finds endearing, sometimes finds infuriating. Tonight, Eames isn't going to let it get in the way.
He drops a heavy hand onto the back of Arthur's neck and can feel him jump, and Eames leans to breath warmly into his ear. “Can I buy you a drink, Arthur?”
Arthur turns and scowls a little unfairly at him, and he just laughs and slides into the nearest barstool ordering two Dark & Stormies.
He picks up the cocktail menu. “You know, I think you’d save money just paying for the wi-fi, if drinks are $15 a pop here.”
Arthur finishes his drink and closes his laptop. “We’d save a lot of money and a lot of hassle if Cobb could lay low instead of insisting on staying at four star hotels with no free fucking internet.”
“Giving up already?” Eames asks as Arthur shoves his laptop into his satchel, and the man shrugs.
"I could be persuaded to pay attention to something better," he says.
Arthur smiles at Eames when the drinks come and lifts his. They clink, and Arthur takes a long sip.
“So what brings you out?”
Eames smiles over his glass. “I was looking for some fun, so I thought I’d find out where you were and go to the opposite end of the bar. But you looked like you were in want of company.”
Arthur rolls his eyes, but he grins. “True. I’m also about three drinks ahead, so you’ll have to catch up, Mr. Eames.”
Eames orders them some shots.
-
Arthur is flushed red, six drinks and two shots in and full of laughter. Eames loves it, likes it when he’s languid, lethal muscle pressed up against him. They’ve moved from the bar to the crush of dancers out on the floor, and while they’re not the only two men in business professional dress leaning up against each other, Eames is sure they’re still the deadliest.
It lets him drop his guard, just a touch, and Arthur must feel it too because he doesn’t jerk away when Eames pulls him close, or when he tips his head back for a light kiss. Arthur just grins and then grabs Eames’ wrist, tugs sharply. Eames follows.
The bathrooms are all singles and unisex, so Arthur shoves Eames into the one farthest from the dance floor and locks the door behind them. Eames laughs, whirling around and pinning Arthur up against the wall to take a deeper kiss.
“The bathroom, really?”
Arthur laughs and makes no move to squirm out of Eames’ pinned grip. “It seemed right at the time. Are you complaining?”
Eames bites at his neck in response, and that does get Arthur to arch up, back bowed out from the wood behind him, and Eames likes this, dropping a hand to rest on Arthur’s hip. He finds Arthur’s mouth again and grinds right up against him, swallowing his gasp and subsequent moan when their cocks touch.
His hand at Arthur’s shoulder moves to his sternum, splayed under his throat and in between collarbones. Arthur’s tie has long been forgotten, and the buttons were undone before he entered the bar. The skin under his palm is hot and flush. He starts working at Arthur’s belt and can feel Arthur trying to tilt his head, reaching blindly for Eames trousers.
Eames leans in and Arthur manages to get the buttons open before Eames roughly kisses his mouth again. “Let me,” Eames says and Arthur closes his eyes with a wide smile.
“Such the gentleman.”
Eames lifts his hand to Arthur's mouth and leers, a little, as Arthur runs a tongue right over the palm, and then he spits and holds their cocks together, thumbing the tip of his own for pre-come for more glide. Arthur runs his teeth over Eames’ bottom lip when they kiss again and Eames jerks them off, the slide hot and smooth and a little too much. Eames licks into Arthur’s mouth as he pushes up, surges into him but then just drops his arms to brace against the door behind him.
Arthur groans and Eames nips at his lips, feeling his hips stutter as he keeps jerking them off together in one broad hand. It’s too rough for an easy orgasm, but he doesn’t like things easy and neither does Arthur, so he just keeps going, relentless and fast until Arthur’s whimpering and thrusting up, eyes closed.
There’s no slow build up and the orgasm takes Eames by surprise, bright white heat surging from the base of his spine to his balls all at once, and he pulls back, leaving Arthur to slide down a little on the door. He manages to hit mostly his hand and the floor, and Arthur’s laughing at him, happy, handing him a paper towel.
Eames roughly cleans his hand off and then drops down on one knee in front of Arthur, whose laugh turns quickly to a lip-biting groan when he pops the man’s cock into his mouth. He sucks it straight down his throat and flicks his tongue, and Arthur’s hands grip his hair when he shoots. Eames swallows but stands up for a quick, filthy kiss right after.
“I’m glad you missed my pants,” Arthur says when he zips himself up, all neat again.
“Oh Arthur,” he says, hand on the back of his head, fingers curled, “I’m going to make such a mess out of you.”
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Uh they bone in a bar bathroom.
Author's Notes: It's porn night for sorrynotsorry! \o/ Written to be bite-sized.
Word Count: ~1K
Arthur is the sort of person who refuses to pay for hotel wi-fi when he can get it for free literally any other place, thank you very much, which is why Eames isn't surprised to see him hunched over his laptop at bar at 2 am, hacking into the financial records of a Senator’s office. He’s drinking something that is apparently made from all local organic ingredients, but with alcohol, and he’s got a bowl of popcorn, and there are people in suits laughing and flirting around him.
Arthur is often that guy, which Eames sometimes finds endearing, sometimes finds infuriating. Tonight, Eames isn't going to let it get in the way.
He drops a heavy hand onto the back of Arthur's neck and can feel him jump, and Eames leans to breath warmly into his ear. “Can I buy you a drink, Arthur?”
Arthur turns and scowls a little unfairly at him, and he just laughs and slides into the nearest barstool ordering two Dark & Stormies.
He picks up the cocktail menu. “You know, I think you’d save money just paying for the wi-fi, if drinks are $15 a pop here.”
Arthur finishes his drink and closes his laptop. “We’d save a lot of money and a lot of hassle if Cobb could lay low instead of insisting on staying at four star hotels with no free fucking internet.”
“Giving up already?” Eames asks as Arthur shoves his laptop into his satchel, and the man shrugs.
"I could be persuaded to pay attention to something better," he says.
Arthur smiles at Eames when the drinks come and lifts his. They clink, and Arthur takes a long sip.
“So what brings you out?”
Eames smiles over his glass. “I was looking for some fun, so I thought I’d find out where you were and go to the opposite end of the bar. But you looked like you were in want of company.”
Arthur rolls his eyes, but he grins. “True. I’m also about three drinks ahead, so you’ll have to catch up, Mr. Eames.”
Eames orders them some shots.
-
Arthur is flushed red, six drinks and two shots in and full of laughter. Eames loves it, likes it when he’s languid, lethal muscle pressed up against him. They’ve moved from the bar to the crush of dancers out on the floor, and while they’re not the only two men in business professional dress leaning up against each other, Eames is sure they’re still the deadliest.
It lets him drop his guard, just a touch, and Arthur must feel it too because he doesn’t jerk away when Eames pulls him close, or when he tips his head back for a light kiss. Arthur just grins and then grabs Eames’ wrist, tugs sharply. Eames follows.
The bathrooms are all singles and unisex, so Arthur shoves Eames into the one farthest from the dance floor and locks the door behind them. Eames laughs, whirling around and pinning Arthur up against the wall to take a deeper kiss.
“The bathroom, really?”
Arthur laughs and makes no move to squirm out of Eames’ pinned grip. “It seemed right at the time. Are you complaining?”
Eames bites at his neck in response, and that does get Arthur to arch up, back bowed out from the wood behind him, and Eames likes this, dropping a hand to rest on Arthur’s hip. He finds Arthur’s mouth again and grinds right up against him, swallowing his gasp and subsequent moan when their cocks touch.
His hand at Arthur’s shoulder moves to his sternum, splayed under his throat and in between collarbones. Arthur’s tie has long been forgotten, and the buttons were undone before he entered the bar. The skin under his palm is hot and flush. He starts working at Arthur’s belt and can feel Arthur trying to tilt his head, reaching blindly for Eames trousers.
Eames leans in and Arthur manages to get the buttons open before Eames roughly kisses his mouth again. “Let me,” Eames says and Arthur closes his eyes with a wide smile.
“Such the gentleman.”
Eames lifts his hand to Arthur's mouth and leers, a little, as Arthur runs a tongue right over the palm, and then he spits and holds their cocks together, thumbing the tip of his own for pre-come for more glide. Arthur runs his teeth over Eames’ bottom lip when they kiss again and Eames jerks them off, the slide hot and smooth and a little too much. Eames licks into Arthur’s mouth as he pushes up, surges into him but then just drops his arms to brace against the door behind him.
Arthur groans and Eames nips at his lips, feeling his hips stutter as he keeps jerking them off together in one broad hand. It’s too rough for an easy orgasm, but he doesn’t like things easy and neither does Arthur, so he just keeps going, relentless and fast until Arthur’s whimpering and thrusting up, eyes closed.
There’s no slow build up and the orgasm takes Eames by surprise, bright white heat surging from the base of his spine to his balls all at once, and he pulls back, leaving Arthur to slide down a little on the door. He manages to hit mostly his hand and the floor, and Arthur’s laughing at him, happy, handing him a paper towel.
Eames roughly cleans his hand off and then drops down on one knee in front of Arthur, whose laugh turns quickly to a lip-biting groan when he pops the man’s cock into his mouth. He sucks it straight down his throat and flicks his tongue, and Arthur’s hands grip his hair when he shoots. Eames swallows but stands up for a quick, filthy kiss right after.
“I’m glad you missed my pants,” Arthur says when he zips himself up, all neat again.
“Oh Arthur,” he says, hand on the back of his head, fingers curled, “I’m going to make such a mess out of you.”