Work Text:
After the inception job, while waiting for their luggage, Arthur asks Eames out for a meal. Maybe it's because he's been impressed by Eames throughout the project, or maybe it's just because he's still high on the success. Maybe he just doesn't want to face the emptiness of his L.A. apartment yet. Maybe he just likes Eames. Probably the reason is a combination of all of the aforementioned.
He's very pleased when Eames accepts, all the same.
The meal is lovely. They go to this Thai restaurant that Arthur's been to a few times before and talk about everything. Arthur finds himself sinking deeper into his seat, enjoying the food and the conversation and the fact that Cobb's nightmare is finally over and they can all go home if they want to. It's all so very reminiscent of the time before Mal jumped, before it all went to hell -- when he and Eames sent each other messages across continents, and took time to hang out for a bit if they were on the same continent.
When Eames says so, you've got a flat nearby? and Arthur says yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to drop by for a drink? and his offer is once again accepted and there is a hand on the small of his back as they walk out -- well, that's new for them, but it's nice.
He doesn't really get nervous on the way over. He's done this before, if not with Eames. Also, with the way Eames smiles at him in the taxi, warm and comfortable and with a promise of something more, he knows he's not misunderstood in the slightest. He knows it's going to be good.
It's been a long time coming.
He'd meant to offer him a drink first, but when Eames cups his face in the hall, smiles, and then proceeds to kiss the hell out of him, he does sort of forget about that. They stumble through his disused apartment to the bedroom, and Arthur's blood is humming and something in his belly is somersaulting wildly and he really, really doesn't mind when a few buttons pop out of his shirt when Eames very much tears it off his body. Instead, he helps Eames out of his clothing. Eames is flushed and his eyes are bright and those lips have never looked as tempting.
The pleasure is almost a shock when Eames gets his briefs down and off and wraps a hand around his erection. Biting back a moan, he does the same and for a while they just stand there and stroke each other and kiss, slow kisses like ice-cream on a warm summer's day, like hot chocolate in front of a fireplace on a winter evening. Finally, though, he is backed up against the bed and he falls on it, dragging Eames down as well.
Eames murmurs something about lube and condoms and Arthur sits up and nearly dives for his bedside table. His sigh of relief is quite audible when he finds both in the drawer. He hears Eames chuckle behind him, and in a fast movement throws both items at him. Eames catches the bottle of lube but the condom hits his toned abs and he says thank you, darling with a smile in his voice. Then Arthur is grabbed and moved gently so that he is lying on his back again, and Eames settles himself on him so that their cocks press flush against each other and he is a warm pressure from Arthur's toes to his lips, which he kisses again.
He grinds down. Arthur moans and wraps one hand around both of their erections, and buries the other in Eames' hair. They kiss, they rub, and they gasp. Arthur imagines he hears a few more endearments, but he's not quite sure.
"Wait," says Eames.
"Ugh," says Arthur, and watches him move and straddle the tops of his thighs. He figured they would do more than just frottage, so he does expect it when Eames reaches for the condom and opens the wrapping. What he doesn't expect, though, is Eames deftly rolling the condom on his cock. Somehow he'd thought that this would go the other way. Eames seems to read his thoughts, and gives him a little wink before opening the cap on the lube and pouring the stuff on Arthur's cock. Arthur gasps and closes his eyes when he strokes him a couple of times to spread the lube. The wet noise sounds obscene and turns him on even more.
"You're gonna love it, sweetheart," Eames says, his voice gone husky, and Arthur opens his eyes to watch him move. He sees Eames reach one hand behind himself, first, and watches, with appreciation, the way the flush on Eames's cheeks deepens. Finally, the mattress shifts as Eames moves forward and positions himself.
Eames lowers himself slowly on Arthur's cock and everything stops, save for this feeling, this amazing tightness and warmth that envelopes Arthur. He stares up at Eames, his mouth going slack with pleasure, and Eames stares down at him, eyes dark and bright and the gaze heavy with something Arthur is too dazed to identify. He lifts his hands and places them on Eames's thighs, digging his fingers in a bit to quell the shaking. Eames's skin feels so warm and Arthur's eyes wander from his eyes to his lips and then down his chest. His gaze reaches the point where their bodies are joined just in time as Eames lifts himself up and then lowers himself again and he watches himself slide into Eames and feels his breath catch a little.
Eames starts a steady rhythm and Arthur finds himself thrusting up to meet him, clutching him like it might save him from drowning. Arthur begins to lose himself in the feeling of being inside Eames, in the sight that Eames makes while riding him and stroking his own cock, and in the way the bed creaks, and the wet slap of skin on skin, and the way Eames keeps moaning and saying his name like it's a prayer, like it's something sacred.
And, suddenly, Eames lets out a loud, long, breathy moan and comes all over Arthur's stomach and Arthur's orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks and he comes and comes and probably screams Eames's name at some point and fuck if he didn't just have the best damn sex of his life.
He is still a shivery mess when Eames gets off of him with a just a moment, dear and heads for the bathroom, presumably. Arthur gets up, and, after dealing with the used condom, staggers after him. Eames is in the bathroom, standing in the shower and letting the water wash over him, and Arthur stares and then approaches, feeling a little uncertain. He gets in the shower with him, and, to his relief, Eames turns towards him and lands a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"So, Eames..." he starts and then hesitates.
"I'm not going to leave if you don't want me to."
Arthur stares at him and he smiles and then Arthur smiles, too. "Good."