artfulforger | Welcome home - For bamf-pointman

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was so much of what was amazingly sexy for Eames. Arthur was not just eager, he didn't only want it. He trusted Eames with this.

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.

Arthur panted for breathed as little hitching whines escaped from his mouth with every added stroke to his over sensitive cock. "Yeess," he hissed. "Come on -- come," he groaned, clenching down around him again that was a little more out of reflex than it was intentional. "I'm ready."

His hand stilled on Arthur’s cock, holding him and keeping him close. Loving that tightness, feeling it milking him. He knew that he couldn’t hold himself back. Not when Arthur was asking and so damned sexy with the way he moved. Not when this was his boy, his lover. His.

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!”

His nails scratched over the fabric of the couch as he cried out at the surprising hard slap to his ass. "Fuck," he groaned, closing his eyes tightly as he clenched tightly around Eames, milking him for everything he could give him. It was only after he no longer heard the little ringing in his ears that he concentrated on the word that Eames had said. "Yours, daddy," he said, his head resting on the arm of the couch now, licking his dry lips. "Yours."

And that was the fucking truth of the matter. He was Eames'.

Eames hadn't realized there was panic in him, worrying about Arthur's reaction to those words. At least not until he had agreed, pledged himself, and that was when he realized how tense he had been for fear of a reaction to his words.

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.

They had said those kinds of words over the phone of course. Pledged themselves to each other in ways men in their career field normally didn't but Eames was the one man Arthur could truly say had his back and kept his word.

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.

Not wanting to move but realizing he wanted Arthur more in his arms than he wanted to be in his ass, he moved to pull out. Groaning as he did, dropping down to sit on the couch.

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."

Before he could think of holding it in, he made a soft sound of protest when Eames slide out of him. But, he much preferred the thought of being in Eames' arms than just Eames being inside him.

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.

He didn’t care about the mess, of how it would leave them together. All he cared about was having Arthur in his arms. Here and now. Always. Whenever he could. Of course work would stand in the way, life itself, but there was so much more they could have now that they have come to this point, accepting one another.

“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.”

"Technically not even sitting now," he mumbled with a little grin as he rest his head against Eames' shoulder. He couldn't even be bothered to get up and clean off the couch from his come - though that was going to be hell getting off - still, he made no move to move from Eames' lap and instead, found himself nuzzling the curve of Eames' neck.

"But could you," he mused. "That would be the question, wouldn't it," he murmured. "Because if you can, then we have a problem," he teased, grinning widely. "I'm not working hard enough if you can."

Sighing at that nuzzling, cuddling Arthur to him. "So we have the weekend, right?"

Arthur chuckled softly and shifted a little to get more comfortable. "Ask me tomorrow, I probably won't be able to sit tomorrow," he said with an amused smirk. For now, his ass just hurt but tomorrow he would most definitely feel it. It was like most things - you didn't get the brunt of the pain until the day afterward. Then it was like every nerve finally caught on that fuck they didn't like that so much.

He hummed and cuddled in closer to him, resting a hand on his chest. "The weekend -- two whole days to ourselves."

"I plan to do it again Sunday night," he promised in a soft voice. "I mean, what's the fun in things for me if you go to work and can sit down," he asked, likely going to make true on that promise if Arthur didn't outright tell him no. Now a direct no was another story, but without it, he would do what he felt like.

"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.

"Do you now," he asked in a soft voice. "Who says by Monday, I'll be able to sit comfortably?" Still, there was a little smile on his lips as he teased him. Arthur considered Eames' words and knowing that if he had anything against it and said as much, Eames wouldn't. He'd see how his ass was feeling Sunday. Maybe, just maybe he'd let Eames spank him again just so he could feel that ache the next day to last him until they could do it again.

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."

He grinned, looking happy and perky and enjoying himself as his hands slid along Arthur's back, stroking the length of his spine.

"I guess I'll just have to test that ass daily, see how it's doing. Not that I plan to keep it always red," he teased. "Can't have you getting used to it, can I," he asked, hand sliding down, rubbing one reddened cheek.

"What? You think I'll keep harassing you," he asked, knowing he would... and knowing that Arthur knew the truth. He wouldn't let up. it was too much fun pushing his buttons, now more than ever.

For the first time in a while, at the very least since Eames left, Arthur was content, right here. "Looks like you will, Mr. Eames," he teased him in return, looking at him before pressing a nuzzling kiss to his jaw. "Can't have that - wouldn't do to just get used to it and it become sta --," a soft hiss escaped his lips when Eames rubbed one of his cheeks, shifting a bit.

He chuckled and bit on his lip. "You and I both know for a fact you will. You enjoy it." And Arthur personally joyed the banter they dished back and forth to each other.

That sound, the hiss that Arthur gave, made him smile. He did enjoy this. Not just because of the sexual pleasure but because of what Arthur offered. Trust. Faith. Companionship. It was more than Eames had ever thought he would have. So much that he needed and hadn't realized until he had it.

"I already am," he whispered, leaning in to steal a kiss. "I was the moment I saw you there at the airport."

Arthur felt a smile curl on his lips as he returned Eames' kiss, his hand sliding up and down over Eames' chest. He dragged his nails lightly over the skin. "Me too," he said, voice soft as he glanced at Eames. This warm, pliant - practically, god forbid, cuddly side of him was a side he didn't show to anyone but Eames.

"Glad I didn't have to fruit you," he whispered, leaning in and pressing another kiss to his lips.

Eames laughed at that, chuckling against his lips as they kissed.

"I think you did. Once. I ignored that as I recall," he pointed out, remembering that time they had phone sex when Arthur had been working.

"So, eventually we should move this to the bedroom. Or get food," he said with a grin.

He pulled back with a chuckle and licked at his bottom lip. "Yeah, you did," he said, giving him a faux firm look. But that had been absolutely amazing.

"We should," he nodded. "I should also clean the couch real quick -- are you hungry?" Whether Eames was hungry or not was a deciding factor in what they do next.

"And you loved it. I want to make you remember that as well," he teased, fingers still stroking over his back, the lines of his side, the sharp ridge of a rib beneath satiny skin. Loving the way he could just touch Arthur, marvel in him and his body.

That made him laugh. He couldn't help himself. "I was wondering how long before that bothered you. Get up and I'll check the fridge and you can clean up," he offered.

"How could I forget something like that," he asked with an amused smile. "It was a much different way of spending my morning." And he didn't regret it, if in part because they hadn't been caught.

He felt a grin tug on his lips in response to Eames' laugh. "Not allowed to judge," he muttered playfully before slowly shifting and standing from his lap. Arthur stood there for a long moment as he allowed his legs to get used to standing again and feeling the heat and ache from his ass. "There might be some cold curry in the fridge if you're interested." As he says it, he looks around for his boxers to pull on while he worked on the couch.

"I'm not judging," he assured him, fingers trailing in little skips down the length of Arthur's spine. "I just know you as well as anyone might,' he pointed out. "Maybe better than anyone else."

At least anyone living. Mal always knew about them. Even when they thought they were hiding it all.

"Are you hungry," he asked, rising and not caring he was naked.

Before Inception, he might have argued that but things were much different now. "There's no question about it, you do know me better than anyone else," he admitted, giving him a little look. Mallorie had known him, of course. She always had but he'd put money on Eames knowing him just a little bit better than she would.

He tugged on his boxers before grabbing the cleaning supplies he needed and got to work on the couch. "I could probably eat," he said, looking over at him with a grin.

"That's because I know what a needy boy you are," he said, fairly purring the words. He just liked how they sounded, and how Arthur took them and the reaction he had. It was entirely worth so much.

Glancing back at Arthur, he smiled. "Love, never change," he said, heading for the kitchen to scrounge and put together what he could.

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