Fic: The Twist
Title: The Twist
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Arthur/Team
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Possibly dubious consent, gangbang.
Summary: Handwaving chemistry makes Arthur smell totally fuckable. So everyone fucks him.
Author's Notes: Based on this kinkmeme prompt. It's not Yusuf's fault. This is kind of ridiculous but now I think all the sentences end, verbs are in the correct tense, and all missing words have been replaced.
Eames and Cobb aren't expecting to see Ariadne sprawled on the couch in the back of the warehouse with her pants down around her ankles when they get back with sandwiches for the team.
They're really not expecting Arthur to be kneeling between her legs, licking at her cunt as she presses his face closer with a groan.
Yusuf's leaning against the wall and just beckons them over. Eames grips his totem in pocket -- it's like walking straight into the best and worst wet dream he's ever had. The sounds alone are straight out of porn.
"So," Yusuf says levelly, and Cobb looks like he's about to blow a gasket.
Cobb opens his mouth, starting with "What the fuck--" because Eames can only gape at the red flush on Ariadne's cheeks and her hand gripped tight in Arthur's hair.
Yusuf just holds up his hand, cutting Cobb off. "Eames. Did you sneak Arthur some allergy medication last night?"
And that's unexpected too, because, what?
"I -what? Arthur's been miserable and the prick won't take it on his own, and that doesn't explain--"
Ariadne finally opens her eyes and pants out, "Look, Eames, he just. He smells incredible."
"I specifically instructed him not to take anything, so when he woke up from the sedative test like this I assumed you'd probably interfered." He sighs.
"Like what, exactly." Cobb asks, his voice strangled. The noises from Arthur's tongue and Ariadne's mouth are getting louder.
"He's basically in heat. His pheromones are insane -- he really does smell amazing. And I'm next in line," Yusuf says, eyeing Cobb warily.
Ariadne interrupts by making a sound between a whine and a squeak, and Eames can see her thighs flex, her knuckles go white, as the orgasm rolls through her. She kicks a little and Arthur kisses her thigh.
Eames wants to punch her.
"C'mon, Arthur, I'm taking you to my hotel room and you're going to sleep this off." Cobb hauls him to his feet by the shoulder and turns him towards the door of the warehouse, a hand on his waist.
Arthur's mouth is pink and glistening, his chin damp, and he grins fondly up at Cobb. "Hey, Dom," he says and nuzzles into Cobb's neck with his nose, inhaling deeply. "It's nice to see you," he says and his voice is husky, the tone what Eames would categorize as 'bedroom.'
Cobb's expression moves from angry and determined to confused and possibly aroused, and that fills Eames with alarm.
"Excuse me," Eames finally says and takes Arthur's wrist. Arthur smiles at him, rosy cheeked, and wipes his mouth with his other hand. Cobb still has him by the waist and isn't letting go.
Yusuf coughs. "I told you, I was next in line. You two draw straws or something to figure it out."
Eames stares at Yusuf disbelievingly. "I don't think you understand. Arthur needs to be in bed. Alone."
"I wish we had a bed in here," Ariadne says hoarsely from her spot on the couch, panties back on but legs sprawled open.
"I'm a little surprised you'd take advantage of him like this," Eames says and she frowns at him.
"Hey now, don't be all jealous that your boyfriend wants to branch out," she says, "and this your fault anyway."
Eames tugs a little at Arthur's wrist and he steps closer, Cobb's hand falling off his waist. He moves right into Eames' personal space, bumping chests. Eames can feel the heavy line of Arthur's erection against his thigh, and Arthur does smell enticing, a heady sweet mix of something that goes straight to his own dick.
"Want me all to yourself?" Arthur asks against his jaw, and Eames suddenly does, wants to bend Arthur over a desk so they can see how he's already been claimed.
"Yes," he growls and grabs Arthur's jaw, kissing him deep and rough and Arthur moans, pulls away.
His eyes are glazed and the flush is starting on his neck. "Eames, I need," he says, and then grinds against his thigh. "I need it," he says again, and Eames' head is swimming in the scent of him, the weight of him.
"He's just getting worse," says Yusuf from where he's settled himself on the couch, almost knocking knees with Ariadne. "I think it's best to just let this," and at this he gestures at Arthur, waving his hand, "run its course."
Arthur groans against Eames' neck and says "Please," voice desperate and tight. Eames just pushes him towards the couch. He's half hard already and he notices Cobb has stopped objecting.
"Guys, you should listen to him," she says and she's already working at Yusuf's belt, "because it'll be awesome."
Yusuf frees his dick himself, giving Ariadne time to get a better spot on the couch to watch. Cobb takes a seat in one of the nearby chairs, and Eames does the same.
Arthur's hair is already mussed, and he's missing his own belt, but other that he seems put together. Eames is going to break him apart, he already knows it, is going to fuck him until he can't even beg for more. Arthur drops to his knees gracefully.
The moan of satisfaction Arthur makes around Yusuf's fat cock should fill Eames with jealousy, but it just makes the fog of lust clouding his brain heavier. He likes Arthur like this already, eager and ready to please, and now it seems right. His nose is still full of the smell of Arthur, and now that he's resigned himself to waiting he's eager to enjoy the show.
"Fuck," Yusuf groans, and Eames can hear Cobb shifting. Ariadne's got a palm splayed over herself, biting her lip a little but grinning. Arthur sucks eagerly, like there's nothing he wants in the world more than a cock in his mouth, and he lets Yusuf grab a fist of his hair.
Eames watches Arthur's throat, the long pale expanse of it half hidden by the collar of his shirt. He's fascinated by the way Arthur's Adam's apple bobs with every swallow and suck at Yusuf's cock, and he's drinking in every little grunt Yusuf makes.
He's fucking high on Arthur's pheromones and he's never been more turned on, never felt so in-tuned to anything in his life.
Eames takes off his jacket.
Arthur's palming himself through his pants when he sucks Yusuf down, all the way in, pressing his nose into the tails of his shirt. Yusuf groans and Eames thinks he's close, from the way sweat's beading on his forehead and the way Arthur's throat is working.
"Wait! Wait," Ariadne says, pressing a hand against Yusuf's shoulder. "Arthur, get up, I wanna."
Arthur looks pained when Yusuf's cock slips out of his mouth, spit and precome sliding down his chin. "What?" he asks but lets them get him to his feet. Ariande moves straight for his pants and Yusuf carefully undoes the top buttons on Arthur's Oxford, kissing at his collarbones.
Arthur's pushed back onto the couch by them both, naked except for the white shirt half buttoned, and Ariadne is staring at his red, dripping cock. They're all staring at it, really -- Eames can hear Cobb's harsh intake of breath. He's on his back and he looks absolutely debauched, and Ariadne leans over his body to kiss his slick lips.
They're perfect compliments, Eames thinks as his hand moves unconsciously to the bulge in his pants. Two slim, lovely brunettes, and Arthur's hands are pulling at Ariadne's hips, fingers sliding over the thatch of dark hair on her mons.
"Yusuf," Ariadne whines and he kisses her temple, handing her a condom from his pockets and then shucking off his own pants. The couch is high enough that he just needs to stand and tilt Arthur's head to get his cock back into his mouth, but he waits for her to roll a condom onto Arthur.
Arthur bucks and shudders at that, his back arching from the couch as she sinks down onto him, her knees bracketing his hips. "Arthur," Ariadne manages to pant out, head thrown back and he slips deeper into her. The hand that's not curling around the side of the couch for leverage is moving to her breasts, cupping her through her tanktop and she grins, wide and free.
"Oh god," he hears and Eames slips a look at Cobb, whose pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, crumpled messily as he wraps a hand around his own dick.
Yusuf turns and smirks at Eames. "They make quite a pair, yeah?"
Eames can only nod dumbly because somehow, his workplace has turned into a live sex show featuring some of the greatest minds in dreamshare writhing on a secondhand couch.
Ariadne's hair has fallen over her face and Arthur has a thumb on her clit as she lifts and falls, riding him. Arthur's matching her pace, lifting his hips, his other hand resting on one of her flexing thighs.
"Arthur, fuck, keep going," she says, and Yusuf takes that as a cue to step up, slide a hand down Arthur's jaw. He thumbs at Arthur's bottom lip.
"You ready?" he asks and Arthur's eyes flutter closed as he angles he head, parts his lips.
"Fuck yes," Arthur says, only half of it is garbled by Yusuf's cock sliding back into his mouth.
"I knew he was great at multitasking, but this is something else entirely," says Cobb, right into the back of Eames' ear. Eames jumps -- he didn't hear the approach, too busy focusing on Ariadne's moans and the wet sucking sounds of Arthur's mouth.
"You seem a little tense," Cobb says, and he sounds teasing. Eames watches his arms come from behind his chair to settle on his waist, and then Cobb palms him through his pants.
Eames lets out a startled noise, because he wasn't expecting that, wasn't expecting the lust-addled feeling to extend to this, but he's ready to grind up the second time Cobb does it.
Ariadne hears, and she looks over at them, a filthy smile on her face.
"Let's give her a show, huh?" Cobb asks, voice a dark and persuasive purr as his quick fingers are already unfastening his pants.
"Yeah, alright," Eames says, watching as Ariadne replaces Arthur's hand on her clit with her own fingers, letting Arthur get a little more leverage on her and letting him concentrate on getting Yusuf off as she ride him harder, rocking the couch so that it squeaks in protest.
Cobb slides Eames' uncut dick out of his boxers with quick, economical movements, and Ariadne apparently likes what she sees because it doesn't take much more time than a slide of Cobb's palm over his cock until she comes, thighs taut, head thrown back. Her legs lock around Arthur and he stills his movements for a moment, groaning around Yusuf's cock.
Yusuf is watching Ariadne clench around Arthur and he grabs Arthur more firmly by the hair, hits the back of his throat with the head of his cock a few times. Arthur's chocking on it, tears glistening, but he doesn't fight it, and Yusuf finally comes into his mouth. Eames is transfixed by the movement of his throat, how he smiles when Yusuf taps him on the cheek with his rapidly softening cock.
"I'm sure Arthur wants to see that you were enjoying his show," Cobb says, "and I'm going to go help Arthur enjoy himself while you watch."
Cobb helps Yusuf hold up Ariadne, who's jelly-legged and fucked out. Arthur cries out, twitches when he slips out of her, and Cobb slides the condom off and leans and whispers something into his ear.
Eames can't hear it, but it makes Arthur arch his back, moan the word "please" in the sweetest voice he's heard.
Arthur glances at Eames but then Dom's there between his legs, a dark smile pulling at his lips before he licks up the length of Arthur's dripping wet cock.
He jerks and cries out, sitting up and leaving a hand in Cobb's hair. Cobb slides all the way off his cock and then swallows him down.
"Fuck, Dom, please," he whines, and Eames is feeling that tightness in his own balls from the mindless stroking he's giving his cock. Ariadne's tucked out on a lawnchair, watching with heavy-lidded eyes, and Yusuf's leaning back in the chair next to Eames.
It's fast -- Arthur's overstimulated as hell, and Eames watches the obscene motion of Dom Cobb licking his lips like a satisfied housecat, sitting back on his haunches and just looking at Arthur.
"Now, how do I get to have you?" Cobb asks and Arthur's flushed face goes even redder as Dom slowly takes off his jacket, tie. Pulls his shirt and undershirt off in motion.
And Dom is more in shape than Eames had realized, well-muscled arms and still defined enough. Arthur's still hard, he notices, even after coming in Cobb's mouth, and Arthur's face is full of awe and lust. He reaches a hand slowly to touch Cobb's chest, and Cobb almost growls as he lifts Arthur to sitting up. Their legs get tangled as Cobb rearranges them, chest to chest.
Cobb cradles Arthur's head in his hands and presses a gentle kiss on Arthur's forehead, then one on his lips. Arthur's eyes sweep closed and he sighs into Cobb's mouth, a hand curling around his neck.
Eames starts stroking himself in earnest, because he had no idea that this -- this is what Arthur looked like when he bloomed open, flush and warm and pliant. It's different, intimate in a completely different way than it is when he's in Dom's position, and he likes the contrast here almost as much as he liked the complimentary look of Arthur with Ariadne.
Cobb pulls away and takes Arthur's prick in hand, and Eames shivers because now he knows what those calloused fingers feel like, how coaxing they can be. Arthur gasps and then goes to pull Cobb's pants off from where they're falling around his hips. His clothes are all in a heap on the ground.
Arthur kisses him eagerly, and it's strange to see thing this relaxed around each other, the way Arthur looks at Cobb with trust.
"Do you want to give Eames a good show?" Cobb ask and looks over, looks right at Eames like he would look right at a mark he was stealing from and Eames' hand stops working his dick.
"Oh, oh god yeah. Let's --" but the rest of it is garbled as Arthur takes another kiss from Cobb, eyes shut and lips almost desperate. Cobb, Eames notes, keeps his blue eyes open, still locked onto Eames'.
"Okay. I think he'll like this," Cobb says and then he presses two fingers into Arthur's shiny mouth, and Arthur starts sucking them immediately. A spike of jealousy hits Eames in the gut but it curls into want in his belly, comes to rest and throb through his dick when he thinks of how he'll show Cobb. Cobb will have to watch after his own little show, just how much of Arthur Eames can take, how much of Arthur Eames already owns.
Cobb slides his fingers around til Arthur's chin gets wet -- Eames can see his tongue dart to slip between them. He's sure Yusuf has lube somewhere but he sees what Cobb's doing, and it's working. Arthur's thrumming with anticipation, his eyes bright, cock bobbing and pressing against Cobb's whenever Cobb leans in to tweaks a nipple with his left hand.
Cobb tilts Arthur back on the couch.
"Take that off," he says and Arthur scrambles a bit to tug his shirt off, not bothering with the last few buttons as he yanks it over his head. The meticulousness has been fucked out of him.
He spreads Arthur's legs so one is mostly off the couch, and Eames watches him spit a few times onto his fingers before slipping them into Arthur's hole.
Arthur's body tenses and he bares his teeth in a grimace, and Cobb rests his other hand on his bare stomach and soothes, murmuring things. Eames knows how Arthur's abs feel, tensing and relaxing as Arthur lets himself ease into the stretch and burn. Cobb doesn't look like he's started slow, from how long it takes the line of Arthur's shoulders to slope, for him to moan when Cobb's wrist twists.
Cobb's hand moves to Arthur's erection, which never wavered despite the obvious discomfort. Cobb pumps him a few times and Arthur's hips jerk into it, inelegant movements between fingers and curled fist.
"Do you need anything?" Yusuf calls out, and his voice breaks the steady thud of blood rushing in Eames' ears, snapping everything out of the haze that was developing. He realizes the hand not wrapped loosely around his cock is gripping his chair so tightly that it hurts to let go.
"Do you need anything, babe?" Cobb leans in when he asks and Eames can tell he's curling his fingers from the way Arthur pants and squirms. Arthur likes it rough sometimes, but Eames isn't sure he wants to keep watching someone else play that way with him.
"Cobb, treat him nice. We have to share," Eames says, finds himself saying, and Cobb actually laughs.
"Toss me the lube, then," Cobb says, and Yusuf does.
"Are you ready for another finger?" Cobb asks as he dribbles lube over where his fingers are already sunken in Arthur's ass. He sounds careful even though his hand isn't, hasn't been.
"Please, oh fuck," Arthur says, his voice pitching low. He's nodding frantically. "I just need to come." His foot on the couch slides as he tries to get something else inside of him, urging Cobb on.
"You're being so good for me, Arthur," Cobb says, and kisses Arthur tenderly on the hip as he slides in another finger. The movement of Cobb's arm is smooth now, and Arthur keeps pace when Cobb starts to jack him off again.
Eames realizes Cobb's working on instinct, not familiarity, that he just assumed Arthur would like it hard. That he's going to go soft since it's working so well instead. Eames isn't sure how well that reflects on himself, but he's too pleased to care.
"Oh, oh please," Arthur says, voice breaking at the end, thighs starting to tense and tremble.
"C'mon, then, c'mon," Cobb says, voice almost a groan to at the way Arthur's shaking apart, hair loose and skin pink and mouth open.
Eames is leaning forward now, watching as Cobb twists his hand around Arthur's cock, thumb gliding over the head, and Arthur jerks and breaks apart completely, spurts of come hitting his stomach and coating Cobb's hand.
"Oh, oh, god," Arthur says, moving beyond words and into vowel sounds, and his cock isn't softening, still stiff in Cobb's hand even after he stops shooting. Cobb kisses his thighs, runs his nose along the crease of hip and leg and inhales, smiling.
"Jesus, Arthur, look at you," Cobb says, sitting up and looking at the expanse of sweaty, muscled limbs. Then his catches Eames' eyes again, and says, "What are we going to do with you?"
Arthur shakes his head and keeps fucking himself down on Cobb's fingers like he can't get enough. Like his chest isn't already sticky with jizz.
"Do it, please" Arthur says, voice breathless and low, and Eames wants to kiss it out of his mouth.
Cobb seems to feel it too; he stretches over Arthur, leaving his fingers to work, and kisses him deep. Arthur bites at his bottom lip and growls, "I need it, Dom," but the demanding effect is ruined by the desperation.
"What is it you need, baby?" Cobb's cock is wet at the tip, cut and respectable, not too girthy, and Arthur's eying it, licking his lips and shivering a little. Eames wants to hear him say, is leaning forward to make sure he can catch the words.
"I need you to fuck me," Arthur grinds out, hips bucking up to try to rut against Cobb, hands gripping at his shoulders and fingers digging into the muscle.
Cobb sits backs and works his fingers in and out of Arthur, slowly stretching him out. He uses his free hand to lift up the leg nearest to the back of couch and fold it to Arthur's chest, making him hold it in place.
"Condom?" Cobb says, looking out at his audience, where Ariadne is now curled around Yusuf, both of them slouching in the same lounger. She flicks one at him and he snatches it out of the air with his free hand and grins.
He rolls it on and then pulls his fingers out with a wet sound, almost muffled by the way Arthur gasps at the sudden lack. Cobb settles back on his knees, lining himself up carefully, and pushes in.
Eames and Cobb groan at the same time, because Eames knows what he's feeling, the tight, slick heat of Arthur, the way Arthur squeezes and pulls you inside, deeper.
Cobb slides out after pressing in halfway, and he makes Arthur's ass swallow the head of his cock over and over, driving slightly deeper each time until he's finally, finally balls deep. Arthur's stopped vocalizing, just breathing out soft grunts with each of Cobb's thrusts, meeting with the sound of skin against skin and the motion of Eames' hand against his own cock.
Eames is particularly amazed by how much Arthur unravel's Cobb -- the man's blonde hair sticking to his forehead and flopping over his eyes, the off-kilter rhythm that he's trying to stick to. The feral baring of teeth when he grabs at Arthur's other leg, fingers bruising as he folds Arthur in half.
Arthur's free hand moves to his mouth, fingers pushed in and spit-slick and he finally stops watching and lets his eyes close. He's biting part of his fist and he lets out the most delicious whimper when Cobb shifts, angling to slam against his prostate on every thrust. Arthur's dick spits precome onto the mess on his belly even though he should be bone dry at this point. Eames wants to lap it up.
"Looks like you want something more, huh?" Cobb says, but he sounds like a man coming up for a lungful of air, and Arthur whimpers around his fingers again, back arching up and head lolling back.
Eames knows that's his cue, and he stands and takes the few steps to from his seat to the couch.
"You're so greedy," he says and barely understands his own voice. He runs a hand down Arthur's jaw and slides a finger into his mouth to join the others, and Arthur pulls his hand away, tries to grab at Eames with it.
He's staring Eames straight in the eye, face pink and tips of his ears red and eyes glazed over with lust, and he sounds broken open when he begs, "Please."
Eames isn't sure whether to tease him or to fold immediately, to rip off his clothes and shove Cobb and take Arthur right there.
"I don't think this position is going to work as well," Cobb says, and Eames can see the awkward angle of Arthur's neck and the way Cobb's hands are tight on Arthur's thighs.
Arthur makes a soft noise of distress when Cobb slips out of him, hand gripping the base of his cock.
"Don't worry too much, pet," Eames says, a little breathless, as he sticks another finger into Arthur's mouth. He pushes them deeper, and Arthur's tongue curls around them and his cheeks hollow and fuck, Cobb needs to stop smirking at him.
"Couch or floor?" Cobb says and Eames shrugs, still looking at Arthur's face, the way his eyes squeeze shut in delight as he sucks around Eames' fingers.
"Floor," Cobb says, and he splays a hand on Arthur's thigh, lets his fingers travel up to tease the spot between Arthur's hole and his balls.
Arthur shudders and whines, and Eames pulls his fingers free, bends down to whisper, "On your knees then." Arthur bites his lip and Cobb helps him swing his legs off the couch.
Arthur hits his knees on the ground hard after they move a bit, his legs shaking. But he angles his hips anyway, offering up his ass and putting weight on his palms -- waiting on hands and knees for them to fill him up.
Cobb slaps his ass and Arthur sucks in air, lets out the ghost of a pleased moan.
"No," Eames all but growls. Cobb hasn't earned it like Eames has.
"Okay, okay." Cobb concedes, lifting his hands in the air in surrender as he gingerly kneels behind Arthur. He isn't gentle when he grabs at Arthur's hips, though, or when he slides his cock back inside.
Arthur groans, loud, eyes closed again, and Eames kicks his pants all the way off, but leaves his shirt on. He kneels too, settling in and sliding his cock across Arthur's bottom lip, then his cheek, and Arthur pants like he's gagging for it.
He grips the back of Arthur's head and holds him still as he slowly feeds him his cock. Arthur swirls his tongue around the head, dipping into the foreskin and waiting patiently even though Cobb isn't holding back anymore, shaking his body with each thrust.
Cobb's thrusts are hard, though, uneven and jerky, and Arthur is forced to give up pretense of a thoughtful blowjob. Instead he sucks Eames' cock into his mouth and it's hot and haphazard, sloppy and wet inside Arthur.
Eames has a strong hand on Arthur's jaw and he can feel the muscles and tendons working as he struggles to not choke, to try to keep his teeth from scraping against the tender skin of Eames' dick.
"Cobb, hey, take it easy," Eames says when he can get enough breath to speak. He gets a glare in return.
Cobb does slow down, though sweat drips down his temples, and they begin pumping into Arthur in a steady rhythm -- Cobb fucking him forward onto Eames and Eames thrusting him back.
Arthur's mostly passive now, and Eames is luxuriating in the smooth glide of the flat of Arthur's tongue, the bump of his soft palate against the head of his cock, foreskin pulled back. It's almost lazy, hedonistic, and Cobb is making it last as long as he can. It just winds Arthur up tighter -- his cock dribbling and his arms spasming from the work of keeping himself up, of not jacking himself off.
Arthur is making the most pleased noises around Eames' dick, the low rumble of them traveling up his spine. His fingers are digging into Arthur's chin and he wants to leave bruises, to mark him all over, and he watches Cobb's tight grip at Arthur's hips and wants to knock his hands away. He would, too, if Arthur's face wasn't the picture of perfect contentment, eyes crinkled shut and sucking happily.
Eames looks down at him, running his free hand through Arthur's hair and at that Arthur practically purrs, rocking from Eames' dick to be impaled back onto Cobbs'. Eames curls his fingers and tugs, not gentle, and watches Arhur's dick jump.
It's Arthur's moaning, the way he cocks his head to the side and leans into Eames' hand, that does it, pushes Eames from feeling overheated and straining into a hot wave of pleasure. His balls have been tight, ready for what feels like hours and the crash of orgasm into Arthur's ready, red mouth.
Arthur's face flushes deeper as he swallows, tongue tracing spunk that slips out of his mouth.
Eames' hands don't move and he holds Arthur as Cobb fucks into him, getting desperate and erratic. Cobb grunts softly, and Eames can feel the push and pull of Arthur's muscles. Arthur's pink tongue darts out, soft on Eames' still half hard cock.
Eames hisses, tightens his hold on Arthur's scalp, and Arthur looks up at him, eyes wide.
"It's too much," Eames says, and Arthur licks him again.
"I want you to," Arthur starts, but Cobb takes this moment to tighten his hold and fuck Arthur with a furious intent. He manages to bite down on Arthur's name, but Eames can hear it anyway, dying in a garbled sound in his throat.
Cobb slumps over Arthur's back, heavy, and reaches around to where Arthur's cock has been ignored. He's lazy with orgasm, wrist slow. "Ah, ah," Arthur pants out and he mouths along the crease of Eames' thigh. Arthur bucks into it and bites Eames' leg when he comes. Cobb pulls out and settles back on his haunches, but Arthur keeps nosing at Eames.
"C'mon, please," he says, licking at Eames' balls and the base of his cock.
Eames is surprised by how little it took to get his prick to rock hard. Cobb's already dragging himself to the couch to collapse, red-faced.
"Okay, Arthur," he says and ruffles Arthur's hair. As soon as he lets go of Arthur's face, he drops his head down, cradling his chin on his arms. It thrusts his ass higher, and Eames walks around him, knees popping when he stands.
He takes a moment to really look at Arthur from behind, ass white and pale, with a light outline of Cobb's palm. His hole is reddened, gaping a little and still shiny with lube, and Arthur settles into his new pose by moving his knees apart even wider. The skin under his tailbone is paperthin, pink with the stretch, and Eames thumbs at it, pressing where he knows it will sting a little.
Arthur lets out a little gasp at that and Eames nudges the head of his cock against his hole.
"Wait, shit," Eames says, and turns to look at Yusuf. "Supplies?" he asks and gets a condom flung at him.
"C'mon, do it," Arthur groans as Eames fumbles to put on the rubber and take off his shirt at the same time.
"Oh, oh fuck, yes," Arthur manages to mumble into his arms as Eames sinks in in one smooth push. Arthur's ass fits perfectly into his hands.
Eames loves the easy slide into Arthur, different after he's already been fucked and is open and ready and Arthur is so responsive, rolling his hips back into Eames'.
Arthur's noises get urgent, vulgar, "Wanna feel you in me," "fuck me, do it harder, oh," and "Fuck, fuck, Eames."
It's heady and Eames' nostrils are filled with the scent of sex, and the sweetness of whatever Arthur's skin is emitting. Eames drapes himself over Arthur's back, fucking more in than out, and breathes in the smell of Arthur's neck. He licks a stripe on the skin there, over his spine, and Arthur's body shivers under him.
Eames wraps a broad palm around Arthur's hip on the sharpness of bone, and wraps the other around Arthur's cock. Arthur clenches around Eames when Eames tugs, thumbing along the sweeping curve of his dick.
He wants to fuck Arthur into the floor forever and he makes sure to press his fingertips over where Cobb bruised, digging in blunt nails and trying to mark over them, rebrand Arthur.
Arthur's body is taut and his elbows are scraping against the concrete floor and Eames is almost surprised by how quickly the desperate need to orgasm rolls through him, urgent. He tries to hold off, pulling at Arthur faster, until Arthur almost screams with it, coming and clenching and shuddering. Eames pulls out and yanks off his condom, stroking himself over that edge and spattering Arthur's back with come, marking him again.
Arthur's a heavy dead weight and Eames lets him collapse into a heap on the floor, spent. His cock has finally gone soft, and his stomach is covered with his own spunk, and he's smiling a little, beatific.
Eames staggers to his own feet and stares down, and feels something like the last vestiges of intoxication flit away. It's like being hit in the face with cold water, crashing into his afterglow.
"Oh fuck," he hears Cobb say from the couch. Ariadne is asleep on Yusuf's chest. Yusuf shrugs at him with one shoulder.
"I'm," Eames says, and sways a little. "I'm going to take him home, to. To the hotel." No one objects when Eames tugs a pair off pants on a barely conscious Arthur, or when he wraps the man up in a jacket, but no one moves to help, either.
-
The hotel is awkward and Eames hurries them to the elevators, then has to steer Arthur away from the bed and into the shower.
"You hate going to bed dirty," he says, murmuring in Arthur's ear as he rinses him off.
"Mmm," Arthur says. His eyes are slightly unfocused but he looks as satisfied as Eames as every seen him, and he leans his weight onto Eames and lets his hair get shampooed.
Eames sits him on the bed and makes him drink a bottle of water before he'll let him collapse, but eventually Arthur demands to be wrapped up with covers. Arthur refuses clothes, and shoves himself into Eames' space when he gets into bed beside him. Snuggling is the only real descriptor for how they end up, Eames' arms wrapped around him.
Arthur has his nose buried in the crook of Eames' shoulder and murmurs something so softly Eames asks him to repeat it.
"I said, I hope you enjoyed that. I saw you slip me the allergy medication this morning, you dick," he says, but Eames can feel his smile against his skin.
"Oh," Eames says, running a hand down Arthur's back mindlessly, and thinks that Arthur probably mentioned this side effect, might have thought this was an intentional thing, and shit, did this get brought up at the team's last night out at the bar? Eames has a tendency to lose conversations after a certain number of drinks, which is why he tries to avoid drinking mid-job.
"I feel like I've been fucked by a Mack truck," Arthur continues, "so probably not going to do this for you again."
For you, Eames thinks and kisses Arthur's temple.
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Arthur/Team
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Possibly dubious consent, gangbang.
Summary: Handwaving chemistry makes Arthur smell totally fuckable. So everyone fucks him.
Author's Notes: Based on this kinkmeme prompt. It's not Yusuf's fault. This is kind of ridiculous but now I think all the sentences end, verbs are in the correct tense, and all missing words have been replaced.
Eames and Cobb aren't expecting to see Ariadne sprawled on the couch in the back of the warehouse with her pants down around her ankles when they get back with sandwiches for the team.
They're really not expecting Arthur to be kneeling between her legs, licking at her cunt as she presses his face closer with a groan.
Yusuf's leaning against the wall and just beckons them over. Eames grips his totem in pocket -- it's like walking straight into the best and worst wet dream he's ever had. The sounds alone are straight out of porn.
"So," Yusuf says levelly, and Cobb looks like he's about to blow a gasket.
Cobb opens his mouth, starting with "What the fuck--" because Eames can only gape at the red flush on Ariadne's cheeks and her hand gripped tight in Arthur's hair.
Yusuf just holds up his hand, cutting Cobb off. "Eames. Did you sneak Arthur some allergy medication last night?"
And that's unexpected too, because, what?
"I -what? Arthur's been miserable and the prick won't take it on his own, and that doesn't explain--"
Ariadne finally opens her eyes and pants out, "Look, Eames, he just. He smells incredible."
"I specifically instructed him not to take anything, so when he woke up from the sedative test like this I assumed you'd probably interfered." He sighs.
"Like what, exactly." Cobb asks, his voice strangled. The noises from Arthur's tongue and Ariadne's mouth are getting louder.
"He's basically in heat. His pheromones are insane -- he really does smell amazing. And I'm next in line," Yusuf says, eyeing Cobb warily.
Ariadne interrupts by making a sound between a whine and a squeak, and Eames can see her thighs flex, her knuckles go white, as the orgasm rolls through her. She kicks a little and Arthur kisses her thigh.
Eames wants to punch her.
"C'mon, Arthur, I'm taking you to my hotel room and you're going to sleep this off." Cobb hauls him to his feet by the shoulder and turns him towards the door of the warehouse, a hand on his waist.
Arthur's mouth is pink and glistening, his chin damp, and he grins fondly up at Cobb. "Hey, Dom," he says and nuzzles into Cobb's neck with his nose, inhaling deeply. "It's nice to see you," he says and his voice is husky, the tone what Eames would categorize as 'bedroom.'
Cobb's expression moves from angry and determined to confused and possibly aroused, and that fills Eames with alarm.
"Excuse me," Eames finally says and takes Arthur's wrist. Arthur smiles at him, rosy cheeked, and wipes his mouth with his other hand. Cobb still has him by the waist and isn't letting go.
Yusuf coughs. "I told you, I was next in line. You two draw straws or something to figure it out."
Eames stares at Yusuf disbelievingly. "I don't think you understand. Arthur needs to be in bed. Alone."
"I wish we had a bed in here," Ariadne says hoarsely from her spot on the couch, panties back on but legs sprawled open.
"I'm a little surprised you'd take advantage of him like this," Eames says and she frowns at him.
"Hey now, don't be all jealous that your boyfriend wants to branch out," she says, "and this your fault anyway."
Eames tugs a little at Arthur's wrist and he steps closer, Cobb's hand falling off his waist. He moves right into Eames' personal space, bumping chests. Eames can feel the heavy line of Arthur's erection against his thigh, and Arthur does smell enticing, a heady sweet mix of something that goes straight to his own dick.
"Want me all to yourself?" Arthur asks against his jaw, and Eames suddenly does, wants to bend Arthur over a desk so they can see how he's already been claimed.
"Yes," he growls and grabs Arthur's jaw, kissing him deep and rough and Arthur moans, pulls away.
His eyes are glazed and the flush is starting on his neck. "Eames, I need," he says, and then grinds against his thigh. "I need it," he says again, and Eames' head is swimming in the scent of him, the weight of him.
"He's just getting worse," says Yusuf from where he's settled himself on the couch, almost knocking knees with Ariadne. "I think it's best to just let this," and at this he gestures at Arthur, waving his hand, "run its course."
Arthur groans against Eames' neck and says "Please," voice desperate and tight. Eames just pushes him towards the couch. He's half hard already and he notices Cobb has stopped objecting.
"Guys, you should listen to him," she says and she's already working at Yusuf's belt, "because it'll be awesome."
Yusuf frees his dick himself, giving Ariadne time to get a better spot on the couch to watch. Cobb takes a seat in one of the nearby chairs, and Eames does the same.
Arthur's hair is already mussed, and he's missing his own belt, but other that he seems put together. Eames is going to break him apart, he already knows it, is going to fuck him until he can't even beg for more. Arthur drops to his knees gracefully.
The moan of satisfaction Arthur makes around Yusuf's fat cock should fill Eames with jealousy, but it just makes the fog of lust clouding his brain heavier. He likes Arthur like this already, eager and ready to please, and now it seems right. His nose is still full of the smell of Arthur, and now that he's resigned himself to waiting he's eager to enjoy the show.
"Fuck," Yusuf groans, and Eames can hear Cobb shifting. Ariadne's got a palm splayed over herself, biting her lip a little but grinning. Arthur sucks eagerly, like there's nothing he wants in the world more than a cock in his mouth, and he lets Yusuf grab a fist of his hair.
Eames watches Arthur's throat, the long pale expanse of it half hidden by the collar of his shirt. He's fascinated by the way Arthur's Adam's apple bobs with every swallow and suck at Yusuf's cock, and he's drinking in every little grunt Yusuf makes.
He's fucking high on Arthur's pheromones and he's never been more turned on, never felt so in-tuned to anything in his life.
Eames takes off his jacket.
Arthur's palming himself through his pants when he sucks Yusuf down, all the way in, pressing his nose into the tails of his shirt. Yusuf groans and Eames thinks he's close, from the way sweat's beading on his forehead and the way Arthur's throat is working.
"Wait! Wait," Ariadne says, pressing a hand against Yusuf's shoulder. "Arthur, get up, I wanna."
Arthur looks pained when Yusuf's cock slips out of his mouth, spit and precome sliding down his chin. "What?" he asks but lets them get him to his feet. Ariande moves straight for his pants and Yusuf carefully undoes the top buttons on Arthur's Oxford, kissing at his collarbones.
Arthur's pushed back onto the couch by them both, naked except for the white shirt half buttoned, and Ariadne is staring at his red, dripping cock. They're all staring at it, really -- Eames can hear Cobb's harsh intake of breath. He's on his back and he looks absolutely debauched, and Ariadne leans over his body to kiss his slick lips.
They're perfect compliments, Eames thinks as his hand moves unconsciously to the bulge in his pants. Two slim, lovely brunettes, and Arthur's hands are pulling at Ariadne's hips, fingers sliding over the thatch of dark hair on her mons.
"Yusuf," Ariadne whines and he kisses her temple, handing her a condom from his pockets and then shucking off his own pants. The couch is high enough that he just needs to stand and tilt Arthur's head to get his cock back into his mouth, but he waits for her to roll a condom onto Arthur.
Arthur bucks and shudders at that, his back arching from the couch as she sinks down onto him, her knees bracketing his hips. "Arthur," Ariadne manages to pant out, head thrown back and he slips deeper into her. The hand that's not curling around the side of the couch for leverage is moving to her breasts, cupping her through her tanktop and she grins, wide and free.
"Oh god," he hears and Eames slips a look at Cobb, whose pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, crumpled messily as he wraps a hand around his own dick.
Yusuf turns and smirks at Eames. "They make quite a pair, yeah?"
Eames can only nod dumbly because somehow, his workplace has turned into a live sex show featuring some of the greatest minds in dreamshare writhing on a secondhand couch.
Ariadne's hair has fallen over her face and Arthur has a thumb on her clit as she lifts and falls, riding him. Arthur's matching her pace, lifting his hips, his other hand resting on one of her flexing thighs.
"Arthur, fuck, keep going," she says, and Yusuf takes that as a cue to step up, slide a hand down Arthur's jaw. He thumbs at Arthur's bottom lip.
"You ready?" he asks and Arthur's eyes flutter closed as he angles he head, parts his lips.
"Fuck yes," Arthur says, only half of it is garbled by Yusuf's cock sliding back into his mouth.
"I knew he was great at multitasking, but this is something else entirely," says Cobb, right into the back of Eames' ear. Eames jumps -- he didn't hear the approach, too busy focusing on Ariadne's moans and the wet sucking sounds of Arthur's mouth.
"You seem a little tense," Cobb says, and he sounds teasing. Eames watches his arms come from behind his chair to settle on his waist, and then Cobb palms him through his pants.
Eames lets out a startled noise, because he wasn't expecting that, wasn't expecting the lust-addled feeling to extend to this, but he's ready to grind up the second time Cobb does it.
Ariadne hears, and she looks over at them, a filthy smile on her face.
"Let's give her a show, huh?" Cobb asks, voice a dark and persuasive purr as his quick fingers are already unfastening his pants.
"Yeah, alright," Eames says, watching as Ariadne replaces Arthur's hand on her clit with her own fingers, letting Arthur get a little more leverage on her and letting him concentrate on getting Yusuf off as she ride him harder, rocking the couch so that it squeaks in protest.
Cobb slides Eames' uncut dick out of his boxers with quick, economical movements, and Ariadne apparently likes what she sees because it doesn't take much more time than a slide of Cobb's palm over his cock until she comes, thighs taut, head thrown back. Her legs lock around Arthur and he stills his movements for a moment, groaning around Yusuf's cock.
Yusuf is watching Ariadne clench around Arthur and he grabs Arthur more firmly by the hair, hits the back of his throat with the head of his cock a few times. Arthur's chocking on it, tears glistening, but he doesn't fight it, and Yusuf finally comes into his mouth. Eames is transfixed by the movement of his throat, how he smiles when Yusuf taps him on the cheek with his rapidly softening cock.
"I'm sure Arthur wants to see that you were enjoying his show," Cobb says, "and I'm going to go help Arthur enjoy himself while you watch."
Cobb helps Yusuf hold up Ariadne, who's jelly-legged and fucked out. Arthur cries out, twitches when he slips out of her, and Cobb slides the condom off and leans and whispers something into his ear.
Eames can't hear it, but it makes Arthur arch his back, moan the word "please" in the sweetest voice he's heard.
Arthur glances at Eames but then Dom's there between his legs, a dark smile pulling at his lips before he licks up the length of Arthur's dripping wet cock.
He jerks and cries out, sitting up and leaving a hand in Cobb's hair. Cobb slides all the way off his cock and then swallows him down.
"Fuck, Dom, please," he whines, and Eames is feeling that tightness in his own balls from the mindless stroking he's giving his cock. Ariadne's tucked out on a lawnchair, watching with heavy-lidded eyes, and Yusuf's leaning back in the chair next to Eames.
It's fast -- Arthur's overstimulated as hell, and Eames watches the obscene motion of Dom Cobb licking his lips like a satisfied housecat, sitting back on his haunches and just looking at Arthur.
"Now, how do I get to have you?" Cobb asks and Arthur's flushed face goes even redder as Dom slowly takes off his jacket, tie. Pulls his shirt and undershirt off in motion.
And Dom is more in shape than Eames had realized, well-muscled arms and still defined enough. Arthur's still hard, he notices, even after coming in Cobb's mouth, and Arthur's face is full of awe and lust. He reaches a hand slowly to touch Cobb's chest, and Cobb almost growls as he lifts Arthur to sitting up. Their legs get tangled as Cobb rearranges them, chest to chest.
Cobb cradles Arthur's head in his hands and presses a gentle kiss on Arthur's forehead, then one on his lips. Arthur's eyes sweep closed and he sighs into Cobb's mouth, a hand curling around his neck.
Eames starts stroking himself in earnest, because he had no idea that this -- this is what Arthur looked like when he bloomed open, flush and warm and pliant. It's different, intimate in a completely different way than it is when he's in Dom's position, and he likes the contrast here almost as much as he liked the complimentary look of Arthur with Ariadne.
Cobb pulls away and takes Arthur's prick in hand, and Eames shivers because now he knows what those calloused fingers feel like, how coaxing they can be. Arthur gasps and then goes to pull Cobb's pants off from where they're falling around his hips. His clothes are all in a heap on the ground.
Arthur kisses him eagerly, and it's strange to see thing this relaxed around each other, the way Arthur looks at Cobb with trust.
"Do you want to give Eames a good show?" Cobb ask and looks over, looks right at Eames like he would look right at a mark he was stealing from and Eames' hand stops working his dick.
"Oh, oh god yeah. Let's --" but the rest of it is garbled as Arthur takes another kiss from Cobb, eyes shut and lips almost desperate. Cobb, Eames notes, keeps his blue eyes open, still locked onto Eames'.
"Okay. I think he'll like this," Cobb says and then he presses two fingers into Arthur's shiny mouth, and Arthur starts sucking them immediately. A spike of jealousy hits Eames in the gut but it curls into want in his belly, comes to rest and throb through his dick when he thinks of how he'll show Cobb. Cobb will have to watch after his own little show, just how much of Arthur Eames can take, how much of Arthur Eames already owns.
Cobb slides his fingers around til Arthur's chin gets wet -- Eames can see his tongue dart to slip between them. He's sure Yusuf has lube somewhere but he sees what Cobb's doing, and it's working. Arthur's thrumming with anticipation, his eyes bright, cock bobbing and pressing against Cobb's whenever Cobb leans in to tweaks a nipple with his left hand.
Cobb tilts Arthur back on the couch.
"Take that off," he says and Arthur scrambles a bit to tug his shirt off, not bothering with the last few buttons as he yanks it over his head. The meticulousness has been fucked out of him.
He spreads Arthur's legs so one is mostly off the couch, and Eames watches him spit a few times onto his fingers before slipping them into Arthur's hole.
Arthur's body tenses and he bares his teeth in a grimace, and Cobb rests his other hand on his bare stomach and soothes, murmuring things. Eames knows how Arthur's abs feel, tensing and relaxing as Arthur lets himself ease into the stretch and burn. Cobb doesn't look like he's started slow, from how long it takes the line of Arthur's shoulders to slope, for him to moan when Cobb's wrist twists.
Cobb's hand moves to Arthur's erection, which never wavered despite the obvious discomfort. Cobb pumps him a few times and Arthur's hips jerk into it, inelegant movements between fingers and curled fist.
"Do you need anything?" Yusuf calls out, and his voice breaks the steady thud of blood rushing in Eames' ears, snapping everything out of the haze that was developing. He realizes the hand not wrapped loosely around his cock is gripping his chair so tightly that it hurts to let go.
"Do you need anything, babe?" Cobb leans in when he asks and Eames can tell he's curling his fingers from the way Arthur pants and squirms. Arthur likes it rough sometimes, but Eames isn't sure he wants to keep watching someone else play that way with him.
"Cobb, treat him nice. We have to share," Eames says, finds himself saying, and Cobb actually laughs.
"Toss me the lube, then," Cobb says, and Yusuf does.
"Are you ready for another finger?" Cobb asks as he dribbles lube over where his fingers are already sunken in Arthur's ass. He sounds careful even though his hand isn't, hasn't been.
"Please, oh fuck," Arthur says, his voice pitching low. He's nodding frantically. "I just need to come." His foot on the couch slides as he tries to get something else inside of him, urging Cobb on.
"You're being so good for me, Arthur," Cobb says, and kisses Arthur tenderly on the hip as he slides in another finger. The movement of Cobb's arm is smooth now, and Arthur keeps pace when Cobb starts to jack him off again.
Eames realizes Cobb's working on instinct, not familiarity, that he just assumed Arthur would like it hard. That he's going to go soft since it's working so well instead. Eames isn't sure how well that reflects on himself, but he's too pleased to care.
"Oh, oh please," Arthur says, voice breaking at the end, thighs starting to tense and tremble.
"C'mon, then, c'mon," Cobb says, voice almost a groan to at the way Arthur's shaking apart, hair loose and skin pink and mouth open.
Eames is leaning forward now, watching as Cobb twists his hand around Arthur's cock, thumb gliding over the head, and Arthur jerks and breaks apart completely, spurts of come hitting his stomach and coating Cobb's hand.
"Oh, oh, god," Arthur says, moving beyond words and into vowel sounds, and his cock isn't softening, still stiff in Cobb's hand even after he stops shooting. Cobb kisses his thighs, runs his nose along the crease of hip and leg and inhales, smiling.
"Jesus, Arthur, look at you," Cobb says, sitting up and looking at the expanse of sweaty, muscled limbs. Then his catches Eames' eyes again, and says, "What are we going to do with you?"
Arthur shakes his head and keeps fucking himself down on Cobb's fingers like he can't get enough. Like his chest isn't already sticky with jizz.
"Do it, please" Arthur says, voice breathless and low, and Eames wants to kiss it out of his mouth.
Cobb seems to feel it too; he stretches over Arthur, leaving his fingers to work, and kisses him deep. Arthur bites at his bottom lip and growls, "I need it, Dom," but the demanding effect is ruined by the desperation.
"What is it you need, baby?" Cobb's cock is wet at the tip, cut and respectable, not too girthy, and Arthur's eying it, licking his lips and shivering a little. Eames wants to hear him say, is leaning forward to make sure he can catch the words.
"I need you to fuck me," Arthur grinds out, hips bucking up to try to rut against Cobb, hands gripping at his shoulders and fingers digging into the muscle.
Cobb sits backs and works his fingers in and out of Arthur, slowly stretching him out. He uses his free hand to lift up the leg nearest to the back of couch and fold it to Arthur's chest, making him hold it in place.
"Condom?" Cobb says, looking out at his audience, where Ariadne is now curled around Yusuf, both of them slouching in the same lounger. She flicks one at him and he snatches it out of the air with his free hand and grins.
He rolls it on and then pulls his fingers out with a wet sound, almost muffled by the way Arthur gasps at the sudden lack. Cobb settles back on his knees, lining himself up carefully, and pushes in.
Eames and Cobb groan at the same time, because Eames knows what he's feeling, the tight, slick heat of Arthur, the way Arthur squeezes and pulls you inside, deeper.
Cobb slides out after pressing in halfway, and he makes Arthur's ass swallow the head of his cock over and over, driving slightly deeper each time until he's finally, finally balls deep. Arthur's stopped vocalizing, just breathing out soft grunts with each of Cobb's thrusts, meeting with the sound of skin against skin and the motion of Eames' hand against his own cock.
Eames is particularly amazed by how much Arthur unravel's Cobb -- the man's blonde hair sticking to his forehead and flopping over his eyes, the off-kilter rhythm that he's trying to stick to. The feral baring of teeth when he grabs at Arthur's other leg, fingers bruising as he folds Arthur in half.
Arthur's free hand moves to his mouth, fingers pushed in and spit-slick and he finally stops watching and lets his eyes close. He's biting part of his fist and he lets out the most delicious whimper when Cobb shifts, angling to slam against his prostate on every thrust. Arthur's dick spits precome onto the mess on his belly even though he should be bone dry at this point. Eames wants to lap it up.
"Looks like you want something more, huh?" Cobb says, but he sounds like a man coming up for a lungful of air, and Arthur whimpers around his fingers again, back arching up and head lolling back.
Eames knows that's his cue, and he stands and takes the few steps to from his seat to the couch.
"You're so greedy," he says and barely understands his own voice. He runs a hand down Arthur's jaw and slides a finger into his mouth to join the others, and Arthur pulls his hand away, tries to grab at Eames with it.
He's staring Eames straight in the eye, face pink and tips of his ears red and eyes glazed over with lust, and he sounds broken open when he begs, "Please."
Eames isn't sure whether to tease him or to fold immediately, to rip off his clothes and shove Cobb and take Arthur right there.
"I don't think this position is going to work as well," Cobb says, and Eames can see the awkward angle of Arthur's neck and the way Cobb's hands are tight on Arthur's thighs.
Arthur makes a soft noise of distress when Cobb slips out of him, hand gripping the base of his cock.
"Don't worry too much, pet," Eames says, a little breathless, as he sticks another finger into Arthur's mouth. He pushes them deeper, and Arthur's tongue curls around them and his cheeks hollow and fuck, Cobb needs to stop smirking at him.
"Couch or floor?" Cobb says and Eames shrugs, still looking at Arthur's face, the way his eyes squeeze shut in delight as he sucks around Eames' fingers.
"Floor," Cobb says, and he splays a hand on Arthur's thigh, lets his fingers travel up to tease the spot between Arthur's hole and his balls.
Arthur shudders and whines, and Eames pulls his fingers free, bends down to whisper, "On your knees then." Arthur bites his lip and Cobb helps him swing his legs off the couch.
Arthur hits his knees on the ground hard after they move a bit, his legs shaking. But he angles his hips anyway, offering up his ass and putting weight on his palms -- waiting on hands and knees for them to fill him up.
Cobb slaps his ass and Arthur sucks in air, lets out the ghost of a pleased moan.
"No," Eames all but growls. Cobb hasn't earned it like Eames has.
"Okay, okay." Cobb concedes, lifting his hands in the air in surrender as he gingerly kneels behind Arthur. He isn't gentle when he grabs at Arthur's hips, though, or when he slides his cock back inside.
Arthur groans, loud, eyes closed again, and Eames kicks his pants all the way off, but leaves his shirt on. He kneels too, settling in and sliding his cock across Arthur's bottom lip, then his cheek, and Arthur pants like he's gagging for it.
He grips the back of Arthur's head and holds him still as he slowly feeds him his cock. Arthur swirls his tongue around the head, dipping into the foreskin and waiting patiently even though Cobb isn't holding back anymore, shaking his body with each thrust.
Cobb's thrusts are hard, though, uneven and jerky, and Arthur is forced to give up pretense of a thoughtful blowjob. Instead he sucks Eames' cock into his mouth and it's hot and haphazard, sloppy and wet inside Arthur.
Eames has a strong hand on Arthur's jaw and he can feel the muscles and tendons working as he struggles to not choke, to try to keep his teeth from scraping against the tender skin of Eames' dick.
"Cobb, hey, take it easy," Eames says when he can get enough breath to speak. He gets a glare in return.
Cobb does slow down, though sweat drips down his temples, and they begin pumping into Arthur in a steady rhythm -- Cobb fucking him forward onto Eames and Eames thrusting him back.
Arthur's mostly passive now, and Eames is luxuriating in the smooth glide of the flat of Arthur's tongue, the bump of his soft palate against the head of his cock, foreskin pulled back. It's almost lazy, hedonistic, and Cobb is making it last as long as he can. It just winds Arthur up tighter -- his cock dribbling and his arms spasming from the work of keeping himself up, of not jacking himself off.
Arthur is making the most pleased noises around Eames' dick, the low rumble of them traveling up his spine. His fingers are digging into Arthur's chin and he wants to leave bruises, to mark him all over, and he watches Cobb's tight grip at Arthur's hips and wants to knock his hands away. He would, too, if Arthur's face wasn't the picture of perfect contentment, eyes crinkled shut and sucking happily.
Eames looks down at him, running his free hand through Arthur's hair and at that Arthur practically purrs, rocking from Eames' dick to be impaled back onto Cobbs'. Eames curls his fingers and tugs, not gentle, and watches Arhur's dick jump.
It's Arthur's moaning, the way he cocks his head to the side and leans into Eames' hand, that does it, pushes Eames from feeling overheated and straining into a hot wave of pleasure. His balls have been tight, ready for what feels like hours and the crash of orgasm into Arthur's ready, red mouth.
Arthur's face flushes deeper as he swallows, tongue tracing spunk that slips out of his mouth.
Eames' hands don't move and he holds Arthur as Cobb fucks into him, getting desperate and erratic. Cobb grunts softly, and Eames can feel the push and pull of Arthur's muscles. Arthur's pink tongue darts out, soft on Eames' still half hard cock.
Eames hisses, tightens his hold on Arthur's scalp, and Arthur looks up at him, eyes wide.
"It's too much," Eames says, and Arthur licks him again.
"I want you to," Arthur starts, but Cobb takes this moment to tighten his hold and fuck Arthur with a furious intent. He manages to bite down on Arthur's name, but Eames can hear it anyway, dying in a garbled sound in his throat.
Cobb slumps over Arthur's back, heavy, and reaches around to where Arthur's cock has been ignored. He's lazy with orgasm, wrist slow. "Ah, ah," Arthur pants out and he mouths along the crease of Eames' thigh. Arthur bucks into it and bites Eames' leg when he comes. Cobb pulls out and settles back on his haunches, but Arthur keeps nosing at Eames.
"C'mon, please," he says, licking at Eames' balls and the base of his cock.
Eames is surprised by how little it took to get his prick to rock hard. Cobb's already dragging himself to the couch to collapse, red-faced.
"Okay, Arthur," he says and ruffles Arthur's hair. As soon as he lets go of Arthur's face, he drops his head down, cradling his chin on his arms. It thrusts his ass higher, and Eames walks around him, knees popping when he stands.
He takes a moment to really look at Arthur from behind, ass white and pale, with a light outline of Cobb's palm. His hole is reddened, gaping a little and still shiny with lube, and Arthur settles into his new pose by moving his knees apart even wider. The skin under his tailbone is paperthin, pink with the stretch, and Eames thumbs at it, pressing where he knows it will sting a little.
Arthur lets out a little gasp at that and Eames nudges the head of his cock against his hole.
"Wait, shit," Eames says, and turns to look at Yusuf. "Supplies?" he asks and gets a condom flung at him.
"C'mon, do it," Arthur groans as Eames fumbles to put on the rubber and take off his shirt at the same time.
"Oh, oh fuck, yes," Arthur manages to mumble into his arms as Eames sinks in in one smooth push. Arthur's ass fits perfectly into his hands.
Eames loves the easy slide into Arthur, different after he's already been fucked and is open and ready and Arthur is so responsive, rolling his hips back into Eames'.
Arthur's noises get urgent, vulgar, "Wanna feel you in me," "fuck me, do it harder, oh," and "Fuck, fuck, Eames."
It's heady and Eames' nostrils are filled with the scent of sex, and the sweetness of whatever Arthur's skin is emitting. Eames drapes himself over Arthur's back, fucking more in than out, and breathes in the smell of Arthur's neck. He licks a stripe on the skin there, over his spine, and Arthur's body shivers under him.
Eames wraps a broad palm around Arthur's hip on the sharpness of bone, and wraps the other around Arthur's cock. Arthur clenches around Eames when Eames tugs, thumbing along the sweeping curve of his dick.
He wants to fuck Arthur into the floor forever and he makes sure to press his fingertips over where Cobb bruised, digging in blunt nails and trying to mark over them, rebrand Arthur.
Arthur's body is taut and his elbows are scraping against the concrete floor and Eames is almost surprised by how quickly the desperate need to orgasm rolls through him, urgent. He tries to hold off, pulling at Arthur faster, until Arthur almost screams with it, coming and clenching and shuddering. Eames pulls out and yanks off his condom, stroking himself over that edge and spattering Arthur's back with come, marking him again.
Arthur's a heavy dead weight and Eames lets him collapse into a heap on the floor, spent. His cock has finally gone soft, and his stomach is covered with his own spunk, and he's smiling a little, beatific.
Eames staggers to his own feet and stares down, and feels something like the last vestiges of intoxication flit away. It's like being hit in the face with cold water, crashing into his afterglow.
"Oh fuck," he hears Cobb say from the couch. Ariadne is asleep on Yusuf's chest. Yusuf shrugs at him with one shoulder.
"I'm," Eames says, and sways a little. "I'm going to take him home, to. To the hotel." No one objects when Eames tugs a pair off pants on a barely conscious Arthur, or when he wraps the man up in a jacket, but no one moves to help, either.
-
The hotel is awkward and Eames hurries them to the elevators, then has to steer Arthur away from the bed and into the shower.
"You hate going to bed dirty," he says, murmuring in Arthur's ear as he rinses him off.
"Mmm," Arthur says. His eyes are slightly unfocused but he looks as satisfied as Eames as every seen him, and he leans his weight onto Eames and lets his hair get shampooed.
Eames sits him on the bed and makes him drink a bottle of water before he'll let him collapse, but eventually Arthur demands to be wrapped up with covers. Arthur refuses clothes, and shoves himself into Eames' space when he gets into bed beside him. Snuggling is the only real descriptor for how they end up, Eames' arms wrapped around him.
Arthur has his nose buried in the crook of Eames' shoulder and murmurs something so softly Eames asks him to repeat it.
"I said, I hope you enjoyed that. I saw you slip me the allergy medication this morning, you dick," he says, but Eames can feel his smile against his skin.
"Oh," Eames says, running a hand down Arthur's back mindlessly, and thinks that Arthur probably mentioned this side effect, might have thought this was an intentional thing, and shit, did this get brought up at the team's last night out at the bar? Eames has a tendency to lose conversations after a certain number of drinks, which is why he tries to avoid drinking mid-job.
"I feel like I've been fucked by a Mack truck," Arthur continues, "so probably not going to do this for you again."
For you, Eames thinks and kisses Arthur's temple.