Un-beta pornish drabble is here.
Eames really should know better than to mess with Arthur's wardrobe.
Arthur's smile showed more teeth than his normal amused grin. "Mr. Eames, what have I told you about my suits?" The bed rattled as he stalked closer. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you- could you speak up?"
Eames grunted and pulled at his wrists. Still tied tight.
“Well, since you seem to have forgotten, let's go over it one more time.” Arthur was standing right nxt to Eames now. When he bent over, his tie brushed Eames' shirt.
“Don't wrinkle my suits.” Arthur started, running his finger across Eames' waistband, then up his shirt. His nail clicked over the buttons. “Don't pull on my shirt.” Then, Arthur moves on to Eames' arm, tweaking the fabric back into place with only phantom brushes than make Eames twitch.
Arthur just tsks. He pulls back and the next thing Eames feels is Arthur palming his thigh. His thumb lightly traces the outside seem. “You should also know better than to wipe your hands on my pants. I can understand you ruining your own that way, but I'm sure you have better manners than that.”
When Arthur begins to play with the button of his pants Eames swears he can feel the heat from his hand on his cock. Eames has to stop himself from bucking into his hand. Arthur sees this and chuckles. Once more he leans back over him. Eames can feel Arthur's breath on his ear. He can hear the smile when he finally says, “The last thing you have should have remembered: Don't. Mess. With. My. Ties.” Arthur punctuated this with a nip to the ear and alight growl.
As his hand makes it's way into Eames' pants, Eames knows just how much trouble he's in.