The first time it happens, Arthur thinks he must be in the dreamscape. They’d just had one of the dirtiest fucks you could imagine, complete with Eames rimming Arthur till he screamed, then fucking him face down into the mattress, leaving bite marks on the back of his neck and shoulder blades. Eames had mumbled how Arthur was ‘so tight’ and that he was going to ‘shag you till you can’t walk properly, so everyone will know what you’ve been doing and they’ll know I was the one who did it, won’t they, luv?’ Eames had fucked him until he couldn’t breathe, until he’d clawed at the bed sheets with his fingers whilst coming against them.
So when Eames pulls out and kisses Arthur gently on the back of his neck, soothing the red marks left by his teeth, and murmuring something like akin to ‘gorgeous,’ all while pressed against Arthur’s back, he nearly reaches for his totem. Instead, he waits for Eames to go clean up because honestly, it’s what he himself is aching to do. Eames doesn’t. Rather, he ties off the condom and pulls Arthur back against his chest and away from the wet spot. And that’s how Arthur had ends up spooned against Eames, their hands clasped together while Eames mouths his jaw tenderly and whispers ‘hope I haven’t done you in, darling.. hmm, nope, still breathing,” and the whole thing is just too ridiculously surreal and carefree for Arthur to even wrap his mind around, so he just relaxes back and breathes, ‘Still here, Mr. Eames. Really, some modesty might do you some good.’
‘You know you love me just the way I am,’ Eames whispers, and Arthur tells himself the shiver has to do with the hot breath against his neck as opposed to anything else. Eames holds him tighter, one arm firm around his ribcage as the other dances patterns along his upper thigh. Eames hair tickles the side of Arthur’s neck and his mouth never stops kissing and licking, as though he still can’t get his fill. Arthur thinks of the previous weeks that all consisted of leaving right after sex. He realizes he was the one out the door.
This is the first night that Arthur makes a conscious decision to stay. He falls asleep with Eames smile against his cheek and strong arms around his waist. In the weeks to come, he’ll stay every time and Eames will gather him into his arms each time, sighing contently. On one nondescript evening, he’ll pull Eames into a tight embrace first and will feel his chest fill with what can only be described as one particular emotion.
momentary seizure of love [Inception, Arthur/Eames, 1/1]
So when Eames pulls out and kisses Arthur gently on the back of his neck, soothing the red marks left by his teeth, and murmuring something like akin to ‘gorgeous,’ all while pressed against Arthur’s back, he nearly reaches for his totem. Instead, he waits for Eames to go clean up because honestly, it’s what he himself is aching to do. Eames doesn’t. Rather, he ties off the condom and pulls Arthur back against his chest and away from the wet spot. And that’s how Arthur had ends up spooned against Eames, their hands clasped together while Eames mouths his jaw tenderly and whispers ‘hope I haven’t done you in, darling.. hmm, nope, still breathing,” and the whole thing is just too ridiculously surreal and carefree for Arthur to even wrap his mind around, so he just relaxes back and breathes, ‘Still here, Mr. Eames. Really, some modesty might do you some good.’
‘You know you love me just the way I am,’ Eames whispers, and Arthur tells himself the shiver has to do with the hot breath against his neck as opposed to anything else. Eames holds him tighter, one arm firm around his ribcage as the other dances patterns along his upper thigh. Eames hair tickles the side of Arthur’s neck and his mouth never stops kissing and licking, as though he still can’t get his fill. Arthur thinks of the previous weeks that all consisted of leaving right after sex. He realizes he was the one out the door.
This is the first night that Arthur makes a conscious decision to stay. He falls asleep with Eames smile against his cheek and strong arms around his waist. In the weeks to come, he’ll stay every time and Eames will gather him into his arms each time, sighing contently. On one nondescript evening, he’ll pull Eames into a tight embrace first and will feel his chest fill with what can only be described as one particular emotion.