artfulforger | Ships Passing: The fallout of falling in to bed

"You're biased," Arthur groaned and pressed back against him as he tightened his fingers in the couch and bit down on his bottom lip. Fuck.

"Fuck, Eames," he whimpered, clenching down around Eames in response to the spanking. A rush of heat and want slid through him.

“Want more, don’t you,” he asked in a low whisper, leaning down as he pushed just that bit deeper to pressing a soft kiss between Arthur’s shoulderblades.

Panting heavily, working to hold himself in control as he straightened. Staring down at Arthur laid out before him and grinning as he delivered a sharp blow to one ass cheek, a back slap to the other.

“Damn right I’ll fuck you,” he said, settling back into things after his slip, finding himself back where he had been moments before with Arthur as he slapped once more.

Arthur nodded and groaned when Eames pushed in just a little deeper. His breathing was heavy and his legs were shaking as he kept them spread.

He inhaled sharply at the sharp slap to one cheek and then to the other, causing him to whimper. "Daddy -- please," he groaned and rest he hot cheek against the couch. His ass hurt and yet he couldn't remember the last time he felt so fucking good and tight and hot and pliant.

Arthur wasn't even thinking about it, or anything, anymore. All he knew was that he wanted more.

"Fuck, baby."

He couldn't help himself. Damn but Arthur sounded so amazing. All rough and throaty and sexy as fuck.

He couldn't hold himself back though, not take it that slow. He started moving, slow and deep in a desperate attempt to hold himself back.

"Do you know how when you call me Daddy, it's everything in me not to slam fuck you into this couch?"

Arthur groaned when he started to move slow and deep inside of him. He couldn't quite suppress the shiver that slid down his spine because really, he felt it too. He had to admit, Arthur liked it when Eames called him 'baby' or 'his boy'.

His lips curled up though as he clenched down around Eames and whimpered softly. "No, but I do now, daddy," he said and bit on his bottom lip. He couldn't help himself, really. "Thought you were going to fuck me into this couch," Arthur said, teasingly.

Panting already, just as heavy and deep as his strokes. He could focus if he tried, not looking over the sight of him taking Arthur's ass but instead stared at his back, at the long line of his spine. If he kept his focus...

Which he couldn't do with Arthur saying that word, asking for it.

"Fucking wicked little thing," he moaned, the words almost a growl as he moved suddenly, slamming into him with a sharp snap of his hips.

Oh.

Arthur inhaled sharply and moaned deeply. "Again," he said, his voice thick and husky. "Fuck, again, Eames," he said, pushing back against him.

He felt so tight and hot and on edge and all he wanted was more.

The begging was unneeded. He wasn't stopping. Not now. Not when he could ram fuck into him time and again, taking him as hard as he could. Both hands gripping slender hips, head bowed as he whispered Arthur's name time and again.

Eames wasn't the only one whispering his name over and over again, Arthur was as well (of course, exchanging names for 'Eames' instead of 'Arthur'). His breathing was heavy and he was gasping and groaning at certain thrusts. "Eames," he whimpered and moved a hand from the couch, down to his cock to wrap around it.

"No!"

Eames knocked his hand away. Only to replace it with his own.

"You're my boy and I'll take care of you," he growled, bucking hard into Arthur and driving him forward against the friction of Eames' hand.

Arthur gasped and returned his hand to the couch with a rugged moan. "Daddy -- fuck, daddy," he mumbled over and over again. He was close -- so fucking close he could practically taste it.

Just one more thrust, twist of his hand --

"That's right, Boy. That's right," he groaned, shuddering. "Fuck, baby. I'm close," he said, losing his rhythm. Just hard and fast and rough, jerking along Arthur's length. "Come on, Baby. I need it. I want to know I got you."

Arthur practically cried Eames' name out at the rough thrust and jerk of his hand and whimpered as he came over Eames' hand and his chest (a little even making its way onto the back of the couch). "Eames -- daddy," he panted, breathing heavily.

"That's my boy. God, sweet boy," he moaned, hand slowing but still gripping Arthur as he slammed into him, whimpering - actually whimpering - as he came off deep in the man that had gone from coworker to friend to lover.

Body jerking and then slumping slightly over Arthur. "My God, so sexy," he groaned.

Arthur could only lay there against the couch, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath. Anything he might have said, would have said, wanted to say was lost between his brain to his vocal cords. Christ.

Shuddering breaths rumbled through Eames until he slumped in against Arthur. Closing his eyes as he grunted and withdrew. A second later he dropped onto the bench and then reached for Arthur to pull him into his arms.

"You okay, love?"

Arthur groaned when Eames withdrew and allowed the forger to pull him over and into his arms. He returned to Eames' lap and pressed his forehead against his neck with a silent nod. He was fantastic -- sore but fantastic. It wasn't exactly every day that he was reduced speechless.

He pressed his nose against Eames' neck and inhaled slowly before pressing his lips to that same skin.

It wasn't what he wanted to do, but he knew that with time he would have just collapsed. Instead he held Arthur close, sighing at the way he nuzzled in close. He wanted nothing more than this. At least for a time.

"Do remember to breathe, Love."

Arthur curled in close to him and allowed his breathing to calm down and do as Eames suggested. "I am," he murmured and closed his eyes some. He probably should clean the spots that were streaked with his come off of the couch but he couldn't bring himself to move from Eames' arms. He just felt...completely relaxed right now. Like nothing else mattered but being in his arms.

The couch was the least of Eames' worries. He had an arm full of panting, beautiful, spent Arthur, and after all he'd been through in the last two days, this was all that mattered. The job, Fischer, Saito... it all could go to hell in that moment.

Which, that very thought, scared the hell out of him.

"So why can't I hold you like this while working," he teased suddenly.

The mere fact that Arthur wasn't concerned about the job, about Fischer, Saito and any of the others was a shock in of itself. He knew, once he was laying in bed with his thoughts, trying to sleep, all of that and what he needed to do tomorrow, and the next would come rushing back. For now, he was just going to enjoy the sated feeling he had and revel in not worrying about anything or anyone else.

He chuckled at the question and looked up at him. "Because that wouldn't be telling at all," he teased. "And, we have to get some kind of work done."

"While I can agree with the arguments, I just don't like them," he said, heading dipping to nibble along Arthur's shoulder. "And I'm sure you think they're good arguments too. Just... Don't like them."

But he knew he would let them lead them. They had to. For both their sakes.

Arthur tilted his head with a soft sound. "Mm, I think they are, yes," he murmured with a grin. "But, doesn't mean we can't do this after work is all said and done for the day." So long as they didn't get cocky and think people weren't noticing. People...especially the type they worked with, were always bound to notice something different than the norm. But, they were also way past waiting until the job was completely over for anything to happen and how he was feeling in general, he was glad.

He was quiet, thinking about that as he nuzzled and nipped softly. Just basking in that moment, of having something he’d thought about for years and yet never thought he might actually have. “I can be circumspect. Despite your comments, you know I can.” He wouldn’t be there that moment if he hadn’t been just the day before, after all. “I figure we have to be careful or Cobb might accidently put two and two together and get right.” And he wasn’t sure if he trusted Cobb with that knowledge. Maybe he wasn’t a bad man but Eames just figured that before this he trusted one man in the business. Now Yusuf and Arthur.

"I know you can," Arthur agreed. He might not have years ago but now he knew and until further notice, being circumspect was the best course of option for them. "Cobb or Ariadne," he said, sliding his hand over Eames' chest slowly. "She's bright and sharp -- she'd probably see something before Dom did. He's focused on just getting home, nothing else." Or at least, that's how it appeared to Arthur.

"Think I might have to work standing up for part of the day tomorrow," he mused, pressing a kiss to Eames' neck.

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