artfulforger | Welcome home - For bamf-pointman

For the next few hours, Arthur was not going to think about the job that had lead them to this point. He was only going to think about Eames and them -- and this bathroom in one of the busiest airports in Paris (if not the busiest). He allowed his tongue to flick over his bottom lip before Eames took them in a deep and sound kiss.

He hummed as the forger pulled away and nodded. "If you hadn't remembered the lube, think we would have had to manage another way," he sent him a little smirk before he backed up toward the mirror and sink, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of his slacks. "Mm, I dont' know - I think sometime, I want to be a pain just to see what you would do," he couldn't help but tease him but they both loved this. That much was obvious and it was rewarding to see the heat that flared into Eames' eyes every time he said 'Daddy'. Fuck but he had missed him.

He pushed down his slacks and boxers to his feet and rest his hands on either side of the sink - watching Eames through the mirrored reflection.

It was this that meant the most to Eames. Not just the trust of being Arthur's daddy, not that they shared this together with the wicked and inventive ways they wanted one another. It was that Arthur was willing to drop everything in the middle of Cobb's most fucked up scheme and be here with him, taking this chance because it was something they both wanted.

And then Arthur was bent over, pants around his ankles and for a moment Eames wasn't sure he'd make it. How could he when Arthur looked that damn good?

"Now that's a sexy boy," he groaned, digging in his pocket for the packet of lube. He didn't use it yet though as he came up behind Arthur, giving one cheek a sharp tap. "Can you get your legs wide enough like that," he asked, worried for his lover's sake.

Arthur watched as Eames came closer to him through the mirror and allowed his hands to tighten on the sink, licking at his bottom lip. He pressed back against his hand with just a hitch in his breathing. Fuck, but he could feel his heart speeding up at the look Eames gave him.

Arthur spread his legs as far as his slacks would allow him to and looked at Eames through the mirror. "As wide as they'll let me," he said. "Want them wider?"

Calloused, nimble fingers ran over the curve of Arthur's ass. He'd missed that tight curve, the beauty of the man before him. He'd had his voice, the memories and urgings but this, this was different. This was them together, not naked but that was sure to come soon enough.

Leaning back, he looked him over before raising his gaze to Arthur's reflection in the mirror. "No, that's good. More than good. God, you look so sexy like this," he groaned, not having to come up with good words, just being honest with him. He looked insanely sexy like this.

His fingers caressed the cleft of Arthur ass before he opened the lube, carefully slicking his fingers.

"Later I will take my time using you," he promised. "But for now I am reminding us both what we've been without," he said, carefully sliding a finger into him.

If anything, Arthur's eyes darkened further at the low rumbling praise that came from Eames' mouth. He didn't bother to mention that the mirror and sink had probably seen more things than either of them would ever want to think about because that would just ruin the atmosphere of what they had here. Still, he liked to hear how good Eames thought he looked.

He hummed throatily and shifted his stance a little as he nodded in agreement. "As you should," he said, agreeing before groaning at the careful finger working inside of him. Arthur forced himself to relax so he could take that finger easier and exhaled a breathy groan. "It's been too fucking long," he muttered, not that he or his body had necessarily forgotten but just too long since they had done this.

"Damn right it has," he said, staring at Arthur in the mirror as he worked that finger against his body. Stepping in close, just wanting to be near him as he worked a second finger into him.

"Tell me. Did you play with yourself while I was gone," he asked, arching a brow.

Arthur kept his gaze on Eames' through the mirror while he clenched and unclenched his hands on the sink with hitching moans. He could feel the stretch from his fingers and reveled in it - fuck but it felt good, decadent.

He nodded his head. "Mm, yeah -- yeah, I did, daddy," he said, looking down for a moment before lifting his gaze back up.

God but he was lost in how amazingly sexy and sensual Arthur could be. If someone had told him that a year ago, he never would have believed it. Not until now. Not until he saw him in these positions.

"That's a good boy. You kept yourself ready for me," he groaned, working a second finger into him at that. It was enough to encourage him, make him want so much more with him.

"God, how can you look so bloody good like this?"

It was one of the things that Arthur kept close to the chest about. Those that he slept with normally didn't know things about him but Eames -- probably knew more about him than anyone and he had no regrets about sharing this with him either. Especially not with that look in his eyes.

Arthur groaned and pressed back against his fingers, clenching around them. "Mm, kept myself as ready as I could," he said, licking his lips.

His lips curled up. "It's a gift."

“My gift,” he murmured, liking how that sounded as well. Leaning down, he kissed the back of Arthur’s neck, nipping lightly at the skin at the base of those soft, short hairs. “That’s my boy,” he groaned, working him with a scissoring of fingers, working hard to get him open. He wanted him. Bad. Desperately bad. The closer he was to him, the more he had, the more he needed. There was something about Arthur he was learning he craved.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” he groaned, not willing to rush and hurt him but desperate to have all he could, as soon as he could.

Arthur liked how that sounded coming from Eames' mouth. Liked how that mouth felt on the back of his neck and how he nipped at his skin. Christ, Eames goes away for a few weeks and suddenly, Arthur couldn't get enough of his touch, his lips on his skin, the feel of his fingers inside of him - he felt needy and wanting of everything Eames gave him. His fingers clenched and unclenched around the edges of the sink and pressed back against his fingers with a groan.

"Ready -- I'm ready," Arthur nodded with a panting breath a long minute or what seemed like minutes later.

It had been too long. That very thought scared him. He was afraid of losing him, of being away from him. He craved him more than he had realized until now as he was staring into his eyes, seeing him being beautiful and sleek and needy.

His fingers moved from him, sliding to stand behind him as his hands caressed over Arthur's hips. A moment later he was using the bottle and slicking himself in preparation.

"Such a good boy," he purred, guiding himself into Arthur. Moving slowly, carefully as he pressed himself to that tight opening. A moment later pushing a bit harder, grunting at the hot sensation around him.

Their relationship, this they were building and creating together was something that was so new and different than anything else Arthur had ever done before. He knew it wouldn't be easy - what relationship was easy - he knew they were stubborn enough to make it work if they truly wanted it. Fuck, Arthur wanted it to work. Wanted it to go as far as it could go. Not just this sexual play of 'daddy' and anything else they fantasied about each other but being with Eames, sharing places/stories/nights with him that weren't just sexual. It was these thoughts that flashed through his head without warning as he looked into Eames' eyes through the mirror and felt as though every single emotion and feeling he had was on view.

He made a soft sound of want when Eames' fingers slid from him and bit on his bottom lip, waiting for Eames to start pressing inside of him. "For you, Daddy," he groaned, forcing himself to relax and press back against him, wanting him fully inside. He felt hot, tight and every nerve felt lit.

Despite himself, despite that near desperate need for Arthur's body and to be fully seated within him, Eames stopped. Not because of the tight heat, or even a fear of hurting Arthur. No, he stopped because he saw that look on Arthur's face. Not looking at himself, he wasn't aware of he was making much the same face. Not about need or lust but about the man with him.

For a moment he was beyond that room and the scent of cleansers and the sounds beyond the door. He was with Arthur, together, and that was all that matter.

Even as he pushed in, gasping though his gaze never broke from that mirror image as he moved deeper with a grunt. "Fucking hell, Love. Nothing I was remembering was this good."

He inhaled sharply when he saw the same look reflected on Eames' face and never broke eye contact with him. They didn't exactly need words now.

Just this.

He gasped when he felt Eames move in deeper and groaned, pressing back against him. "Same -- mmng, same here," Arthur said - his voice sounding rough and used. He couldn't turn away from Eames' gaze but just as Eames became fully seated inside him, Arthur's eyes closed of their own merit and he hung his head for a moment as he worked on controlling his breathing. "Fuck -- fuck," he breathed and lifted his head to look in the mirror again - feeling stretched, hot, tight and so fucking good.

Emotions raged within him. Eames felt hot and wild and needed as much as needful. How could so much be changing. Inception was supposed to change the mark, change the world of dream share, not change them like it was.

And it was. Changing Eames so much more than he wanted to admit.

Pushing until he was fully seated within him and then, only then, did he still. Panting with barely contained whimpers tinging each sound, trying to gather himself. He knew he could lose it, just like this. But he wasn't ready. Not yet.

"I plan to," he teased, giving his ass another light smack. "If you're a good boy."

Arthur was barely able to hold in his whimpers as he adjusted to Eames's cock inside of him and continued unclenching and clenching his hands on the sink. He inhaled with a groan when Eames gave his ass a light smack and bit down on his bottom lip. "Mm, fuck, I've missed that, daddy," he mumbled and shifted his stance a little.

He grinned slowly. "I'm always good, daddy," he said as he looked at him with darkened eyes. He allowed himself to go to that mindset and press back against Eames when he felt ready.

"You're amazing, Boy." He was definitely always going to give him those compliments. All because he wanted to keep this. Not just for the amazing sex though he knew he wouldn't find it again. Not like this with the emotion and all. He wanted Arthur. His Arthur.

His hands slid over narrow hips, calloused fingers curling around that silky flesh. Digging in to get a firm hold before he moved. Hips drawing back and then bucking with a snap, driving himself into Arthur with a grunt.

"Then show me how good you are."

Arthur hoped that Eames continued giving him those compliments because it made it so much more than a quick fuck. Not that he had any doubts about what this was with Eames. He knew exactly and he wasn't afraid of the amount of sheer emotion he felt toward the forger.

He inhaled roughly when he felt Eames's fingers dig into his hips and thrust sharply into him, causing Arthur to gasp softly. It didn't take him very long to start pressing back on Eames' cock, meeting his sharp thrusts with his hips. Never once did Arthur break eye contact with what was happening through the mirror. He found the image of them intoxicating and tried holding in his whimpers with every thrust. "Fuck," he breathed, unclenching his hand from the sink to reach around them to hold onto Eames's thigh, his fingers digging into the flesh there as if to hold onto him.

"Daddy," he groaned, watches Eames's as he said it and licked along his bottom lip slowly.

They were in a public bathroom, half undressed and fucking wildly. Yet there was something in this that was insanely intimate, at least for Eames. Something about the trust that brought them to this moment. More than a little something about the eye contact, about being able to see Arthur's face, every expression, even as they came together in that utterly needy position.

Focusing, panting in quick, shallow breaths that came as a soft grunt with every thrust of his hips. Then that title. That sexy, sweet, wonderful title. He gasped, eyes widening still. He knew it was his position and his place and yet to stare into Arthur's eyes as he was buried within him, hearing those words and he nearly came then and there.

Moving with sudden, quick bucks of his hips, unable to slow down now. Not even think about it as he slammed into him as hard as he could.

Eames wasn't the only one who felt it - Arthur did too. This completely intimate atmosphere that they were weaving around each other. He inhaled sharply at Eames's reactions and moaned when the forger started moving deeper and harder into him. Arthur hung his head as he panted, groaned and bit on his whimpers, his body tensing every single time Eames hit his prostate.

"Cl - close," he said, his voice sounding wrecked as his knuckles turned white on the sink and his other fingers dug into Eames's thigh harder - just giving him fair warning though he probably needn't. He felt hot, tight and so fucking on edge -- just one tug on his cock and he'd come right then, he knew. He released his hand from Eames' thigh so he could take hold of himself.

The moment he reached for himself, Eames snarled. Not a sneer, or a frown, but a downright growling snarl.

"Don't you dare," he said, sounding more breathless than he wanted to. "You ask, and then I get you off," he growled, staring into those beautiful eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

His nails racked over Arthur's hip a moment before his hand hovered near his cock. "Ask permission to come for me, Boy!"

Fuck, did that send a wave of hot heat through his body, leaving him shuddering.

Arthur's hand moved to the sink again and tightened it on the cool porcelain and practically whimpered. He bit down on his bottom lip until those nails raised red marks on his hips and he pressed back against him with a little gasp. "Daddy --," he groaned, his eyes dark as he kept them on Eames's through the mirror. "Please, can I, daddy? I need to come. Please."

Eames knew every step was new, asking for me, taking more from Arthur as he allowed it. And he was loving it. Everything they shared, all the new moments of sex and love and romance and this relationship that was more than all of that.

"That's a good boy," he purred, reaching around and gripping Arthur's cock. He didn't hesitate though. Thrusting into him, fucking his lover's cock into his grip, working to bring him off, bring him the pleasure of release there in the bathroom of a famous airport after weeks of being without one another.

The next thing Arthur knew, after that moment that Eames gripped him and thrust into him deep, his body tensed and he made a sound from the back of his throat as he came. Hard. His head hung down and watched as he came over Eames's hand and the sink.

"Fuck," he breathed, clenching down around him. "Come on, daddy," Arthur said, lifting his head to look at him with dark eyes.

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