"Ummmph," Arthur mumbles, and it must be the heat dulling his senses because in any other situation, Eames would've been shoved off of him. And it is Eames, he realizes, which on the one hand is good because if anyone else had crawled on him, well, that would have been awkward but on the other hand, Eames. Which he's apparently now moaned said out loud, because Eames grins.
"It's for your own good, darling," he says in that ridiculously smug way of his that always, always, always goes straight to Arthur's cock, and Arthur wants to know how it is that Eames has managed to forge his fucking nerve endings.
"Being smothered is for my own good?" Arthur manages, his shoves made utterly ineffectual by the fact that Eames's chest is currently crushing his arms. And chest. And basically all of his upper body. It would be one thing if he were lying on a bed, but being in a hammock means that he's trapped on three sides by netting and the fourth by Eames.
"Covered, really. Possibly covered and smothered. Even topped, if you'd like," Eames purrs. "But hopefully not scattered or diced."
"I am never letting you set foot in a Waffle House again," Arthur groans, trying and failing again to get Eames off of him.
"That's what you said last time, love." Eames is entirely too insufferable, and Arthur knows what he's angling for and won't give him the satisfaction. Yet.
"This time I mean it. Especially because you are apparently trying to kill me by squeezing the life from my lungs."
Eames looks almost hurt. "Au contraire, I'm saving you."
"I don't believe you," Arthur growls.
"You're turning entirely too lobster-like for my tastes, Arthur. I'll have you know that Bali has one of the highest incidences of skin cancer in the world." Eames grins, and it's dazzling in the sunlight, even though his nose is only inches from Arthur's. "I'm merely trying to protect you from dying a painful and decidedly unsexy death."
And that's the breaking point for Arthur, because despite his utter ridiculousness, despite the fact that this is all some Eamesian contrivance to lay on top of him, there's also something earnest beneath the teasing. Once again, Eames has chosen an entirely ridiculous way to show that he cares, but the truth of the matter is still that he cares. Arthur surges forward and plants his lips on Eames, telegraphing his surrender.
They kiss, long and lazy in the equatorial sun, and when they finally break apart Eames sighs happily and wraps himself around Arthur. "You're going to wreck my tan," Arthur grumbles, pushing at the arm still wrapped around his chest.
"Saving your life," Eames murmurs, still smug. "You'll thank me for it later."
"So cocky, Mr. Eames," Arthur sighs, settling in against Eames's chest. "You know, some people just use sunscreen."
"Don't worry," Eames hums, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I have plans for that later."
(IDEK why it is that i can write commentfic but get bogged down in the *counts* six WIPs i have going now, ARGH.)
...This was a prompt, right?
moanedsaid out loud, because Eames grins."It's for your own good, darling," he says in that ridiculously smug way of his that always, always, always goes straight to Arthur's cock, and Arthur wants to know how it is that Eames has managed to forge his fucking nerve endings.
"Being smothered is for my own good?" Arthur manages, his shoves made utterly ineffectual by the fact that Eames's chest is currently crushing his arms. And chest. And basically all of his upper body. It would be one thing if he were lying on a bed, but being in a hammock means that he's trapped on three sides by netting and the fourth by Eames.
"Covered, really. Possibly covered and smothered. Even topped, if you'd like," Eames purrs. "But hopefully not scattered or diced."
"I am never letting you set foot in a Waffle House again," Arthur groans, trying and failing again to get Eames off of him.
"That's what you said last time, love." Eames is entirely too insufferable, and Arthur knows what he's angling for and won't give him the satisfaction. Yet.
"This time I mean it. Especially because you are apparently trying to kill me by squeezing the life from my lungs."
Eames looks almost hurt. "Au contraire, I'm saving you."
"I don't believe you," Arthur growls.
"You're turning entirely too lobster-like for my tastes, Arthur. I'll have you know that Bali has one of the highest incidences of skin cancer in the world." Eames grins, and it's dazzling in the sunlight, even though his nose is only inches from Arthur's. "I'm merely trying to protect you from dying a painful and decidedly unsexy death."
And that's the breaking point for Arthur, because despite his utter ridiculousness, despite the fact that this is all some Eamesian contrivance to lay on top of him, there's also something earnest beneath the teasing. Once again, Eames has chosen an entirely ridiculous way to show that he cares, but the truth of the matter is still that he cares. Arthur surges forward and plants his lips on Eames, telegraphing his surrender.
They kiss, long and lazy in the equatorial sun, and when they finally break apart Eames sighs happily and wraps himself around Arthur. "You're going to wreck my tan," Arthur grumbles, pushing at the arm still wrapped around his chest.
"Saving your life," Eames murmurs, still smug. "You'll thank me for it later."
"So cocky, Mr. Eames," Arthur sighs, settling in against Eames's chest. "You know, some people just use sunscreen."
"Don't worry," Eames hums, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I have plans for that later."
(IDEK why it is that i can write commentfic but get bogged down in the *counts* six WIPs i have going now, ARGH.)