artfulforger (
artfulforger) wrote2012-12-28 05:28 pm
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Welcome home - For bamf-pointman - Ships Passing
Australia seemed to go on forever with surveillance and research and ensuring that he not only had every needed mannerism down to a tee but that Eames had made enough notes that if Arthur had any questions, he could answer them. He had everything they needed and he was ready to go home. Ready to get back to a job that excited him as much as he feared just where it was going. Ready to get back to a pointman who was really turning his world upside down, and he was realizing how much he loved it.
Waiting until he was on his last layover and he was sure that the flights would be on time, he sent Arthur a message just before boarding his flight.
1016 degaulle #2316 timothy
Eames had shipped ahead everything else he needed, not that it had been much, so as he came down the walk to the terminal, all he had was a single rolling carry on. Dressed in fawn colored slacks and a dark burgundy coat over a paisley shirt, he looked like a tourist with a heavy shadow of hair growth along his jaws and a bright light in his eyes as he looked around for the man that should be waiting for him.
Waiting until he was on his last layover and he was sure that the flights would be on time, he sent Arthur a message just before boarding his flight.
1016 degaulle #2316 timothy
Eames had shipped ahead everything else he needed, not that it had been much, so as he came down the walk to the terminal, all he had was a single rolling carry on. Dressed in fawn colored slacks and a dark burgundy coat over a paisley shirt, he looked like a tourist with a heavy shadow of hair growth along his jaws and a bright light in his eyes as he looked around for the man that should be waiting for him.
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He took a moment to gather himself before he pushed himself up from Eames' lap - his arms shaking with the effort as he moved closer to the arm of the couch. He rested his arms on it as he knelt. "Please, daddy -- need you."
And fuck, he did. He had for the last few weeks. Not just his 'Daddy' but Eames in general.
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“That’s my good boy,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss along Athur’s spine as he slid two fingers into him. Slowly pumping them within him, kissing still as he worked him open.
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"Daddy --," he groaned and pressed his forehead against the couch and rocked back. "Come on --"
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That didn’t stop him from moving his hand instantly, giving him a sharp, hard slap as he moved in behind him. Gripping his hips with both hands, he slammed into him. Hard and deep.
“That’s my boy,” he growled, moving suddenly, not giving him time to catch his breath. “Come on, Baby boy. Fuck yourself on me.”
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There was a gasp and a sharp exhale as Eames thrust fully into him. "Fuck," he groaned, tightening his hands on the arm of the couch. He panted for a breath and took a moment before doing as Eames said and fucking himself on him - meeting his thrusts.
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And then he was rocking back against him and Eames groaned, a low, heavy sound as he felt him move.
Only then did he slow, still deep but not as hard as they worked against one another. Setting up a rhythm and then he moved his hand, slapping the reddened curve of his ass.
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He felt like he was just on that cusp - that imaginary little line between too much and not enough and every nerve felt lit with electricity. The pace was slower now but just just as deep and with nearly every thrust, Arthur could feel the hit to his prostate, causing him to shudder underneath Eames' more broad body. "Daddy -- please," he whimpered, his hands tightening on the arm of the couch - not moving them to grasp at what he really wanted to grasp at. Needing to come. Wanting to come and yet wanting this to continue.
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Yet it didn't stop him from smacking again. From of his hand on one cheek, back of the hand on the other.
"Please what," he demanded, speeding up without words from Arthur. Slamming into him, hard and fast, jerking him back with the hold of one hand on his hip.
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The pace sped up and he knew he would have marks on his hips from Eames' hand.
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His hand reached around, finding that hard length beneath him and jerking Arthur hard to get him to come for him.
"Come on, Pet. I want it. Come for me, Boy," he growled, slamming into him.
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He gave a sharp little cry before he was coming over Eames' hand, his chest and the couch. "Fuck -- fuck," he panted.
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It was why he kept jerking him, feeling it over his fingers, working him through his release. It was nearly impossible to go on, the feel of that tight hole pulsing around him. He gasped, moaning as he fought to hold off.
"Tell me you're ready for it," he panted, holding himself back.
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He thought the word and then he was growling outloud, his hand coming down hard on Arthur’s ass as he came, shoving deep within him as he did.
“Mine!”
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And that was the fucking truth of the matter. He was Eames'.
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Slumping slightly forward, he tenderly rubbed his hand over Arthur's ass cheek.
"Oh, sweet Baby Boy, you are a darling," he murmured, panting hard and barely finding words.
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He made a soft sound at the gentle rubbing from Eames and lay there, closing his eyes a little. Arthur didn't resist the urge to smile at his words.
"Missed you," says softly and rubs his flushed cheek against the couch.
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Yet he didn't let go of Arthur, pulling him with him, trying to pull him onto his lap. "Come here, Darling," he murmured softly, needing to have him close.
He chuckled. "If you can sit down at all."
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Arthur let Eames move him as he wanted for now and settled on his lap with a groan, shifting so most of the pressure would be off his ass. Which wasn't as easy as one would perhaps assume. He felt a little smile curl on his lips as he leaned into Eames' body. "Barely," he said dryly with a smile.
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“Well then, I let up too soon, didn’t I,” he asked, grinning. “Oops. Next time we’ll ensure it will be right. So you can’t sit.”
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Sighing at that nuzzling, cuddling Arthur to him. "So we have the weekend, right?"
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He hummed and cuddled in closer to him, resting a hand on his chest. "The weekend -- two whole days to ourselves."
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"All for us," he sighed, leaning in to kiss Arthur's temple. "Good. I would harass you at work otherwise," he teased, though he likely meant it.
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Arthur's eyes closed a little as he relaxed into Eames and slowly returned to his proper head space. "You say that as if you don't already," he teased, pinching him playfully on his side.
"I, for one, am thankful for the days away from the warehouse."
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/is running with the idea that they didn't know about Yusuf and Dom's plan yet...grr on them!
Sounds good to me :D
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Hm, think he'd remember Arthur's clothes laying on the floor? ;D
Oooh. Say he did, and doesn't become an issue until the next mornng? When Arthur realizes he did?
Yees! Arthur would be touched that Eames picked up his clothes. ;)
Consider it done then
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