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Steinway Fic: Irresistible You

  • Feb. 20th, 2011 at 9:59 AM
toomuchplor: (rough trade arthur/eames)
Fandom: Inception
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Length: 2213 words
Summary: Arthur’s face shifts from interrogatory focus to something soft and slack and longing, almost within a bare second.

Warning for slight D/s themes. Set in the Steinway!Verse, a short time after Er, der Herrlichste von Allen, but probably good as a stand-alone too. I thought we needed some blatant porn at this point and handily I had this in my back pocket.

Read on AO3 or here by clicking the cut tag below.

Irresistible You

Eames is fresh out of the shower and leaning towards the mirror, shaving carefully with a plastic razor. It’s Saturday morning and so far he’s done barely anything, which is the best kind of Saturday morning there is. He’d even felt bold enough to steal some of Arthur’s expensive bodywash and shampoo and now he smells lovely, like Arthur.

Arthur, who is walking past the open bathroom door, head down. He’s got the newspaper under one arm and a steaming mug of coffee in the other hand, impeccably dressed, which is Arthur’s idea of a perfect Saturday morning. Eames throws a small smile his way, and Arthur catches the movement and returns it as he passes. Because Eames isn’t particularly paying attention to the sound of Arthur’s footsteps it surprises him when he looks up and sees that Arthur is back in the doorway, sans coffee, sans paper – just standing in the doorway.

Standing in the doorway and staring at Eames.

For a moment it seems like Arthur just has a question for him, like ‘did you use the last of the creamer’ (yes) or ‘didn’t you say you were going to take out the garbage’ (no) or ‘did you use my bodywash again?’ (definitely no). But Arthur’s face shifts from interrogatory focus to something soft and slack and wistful, almost within a bare second.

Eames blinks at Arthur, patting his face dry with the handtowel. “Did I miss a spot?” he asks, quickly glancing in the mirror to make sure there’s no rogue shaving cream on his chin.

Arthur continues to stare, which is very unlike Arthur. Arthur is rarely, if ever, at a loss for words, particularly if he has a criticism to offer Eames. Eames watches Arthur’s eyes, traces the gaze to its point of focus. This seems to be Eames’ left arm. Eames looks down. His arm looks ordinary to him; rather fit and muscley now that he’s been going to the gym three times a week (to which Arthur has said, ‘you’re already hot, what’s the point?’ and Eames has answered, invariably, ‘of course it’s nothing shallow like that, I only want to be healthy and physically active and all that nonsense.’)

Arthur swallows, and his gaze traces an almost palpable line up Eames’ shoulder, down his back.

“Oh,” says Eames, and checks himself out in the mirror, flexing just a little. “I thought I was hot enough already? Changed your tune, have you?”

“Come here,” Arthur answers, voice gone dry and raspy and low, “fuck, come here,” but Arthur is already moving and he meets Eames halfway, wrapping his arms around Eames, clutching at Eames’ upper arms, his shoulders, stroking down his back. Eames is still wet from the shower, he’s getting Arthur’s fresh crisply ironed shirt damp in places as they press together but miraculously Arthur doesn’t seem to notice or care. His mouth finds Eames’ and he’s pressing Eames back against the bathroom wall and just – feeling him up, shameless and greedy and grabby, long strong pianist’s fingers stroking Eames’ skin, digging hard into the muscle underneath. Eames is so startled by the onslaught that he freezes, hands up in the air, like surrendering to the police. He’s really not quite sure what he’s done to trigger this assault (though he is far, far from complaining); Eames hasn’t seen this side of Arthur before, not really, this intense hungry demanding side of Arthur that doesn’t seem bashful or hesitant in the face of Eames’ own hesitation and inertia.

It only takes a moment for Eames’ brain to clear; it’s Arthur after all, and if Arthur wants to shove Eames back against the wall and stroke his muscles and kiss his mouth, Eames should bloody well settle in and enjoy it.

Except Eames isn’t really very good at sitting back and enjoying it, not once he realises that they are going to have sex now, which is – Eames takes it back – this is a perfect Saturday morning. His hands close around Arthur’s shoulders and he gives a little push, then another, and Arthur reacts with still more desperation even as he gives way. Eames shoves again, experimentally, and Arthur goes with a hungry sound of approval. Eames has a vague idea of walking him backwards towards the bedroom but Arthur, yielding though he is, isn’t cooperating. Eames pushes and pushes and only winds up farther into the bathroom, with Arthur against the wall instead of Eames, Arthur still kissing and groping and pressing his whole body into Eames’.

Eames gives it up as a bad job and undresses Arthur right there, messily. He no sooner unbuttons Arthur’s shirt partway than he’s moving on to Arthur’s trousers, getting the fly undone, and then just inelegantly shoving trousers and pants both down far enough to free Arthur’s arse for grabbing and his cock for stroking. Arthur is clinging, that’s the only word for it, he’s clinging to Eames, panting, the flush from his neck having spread down his chest to disappear under the still-buttoned middle of his shirt, the shirt sticking to his skin in patches from Eames’ wet skin and hair.

It doesn’t seem like the time to ask, but Eames suddenly isn’t sure what to do now. Arthur certainly is beyond answering anyway, pupils blown and lips red swollen, writhing wordlessly as Eames kisses his neck and fondles his arse. Eames is weirdly worried about making the right move, though, because Eames doesn’t want to do anything that might break this spell. Arthur is – Arthur is kind of amazing right now, amazing and intoxicating, and the last thing Eames wants to do is something that might banish lithe grinding hungry Arthur and bring in cross and disappointed Arthur.

Eames pulls back. If Arthur wants to be pushed around, Eames can manage that at least. He tugs at Arthur’s shirt, which is slipping off one shoulder, and wheels Arthur around, crowding him over until he’s in front of the empty towel bar. It’s the right height, so Eames grabs Arthur’s arms and hooks them over the bar. “Hold it,” he says, and though he’s almost expecting Arthur to resist, Arthur does it, with a relieved sigh. In fact, Arthur fairly clings to the towel bar, he drapes himself over it. He bows his head and shivers, and Eames thinks maybe he got this one right after all.

Eames looks down and is somewhat amazed to realize he’s still wearing the towel he’d thrown around his hips after his shower, and yanks it off now quickly before spending some quality time pressing his whole naked front up against Arthur’s partially clothed back.

Arthur shoves back into the pressure, making eager sounds.

Eames ungently presses him back towards the wall and Arthur goes limp. "Stay there," Eames tells him, and Arthur – Arthur stays. Eames takes a dizzy step back and slaps around the small bathroom counter. There’s a fresh bottle of lube here somewhere, he’s sure he’d never bothered putting it away when he’d gotten it out of the grocery bag a few days ago. There it is; Eames seizes it and turns back to Arthur, who’s still holding tight to the towel bar.

Eames slicks his hand and fingers Arthur whilst biting the nape of his neck and the bump at the top of his spine and the narrow wings of his shoulders, all the delicious Arthurian places that Eames can’t ever quite spend enough time enjoying.

Arthur is being so still and quiet, that for a second Eames suffers a paranoid flash that Arthur's not with him anymore, he’s gone off somewhere else. "Is it good?" Eames asks him, speaking into the crook of Arthur’s neck.

Arthur nods, shaky, eyes closed, and Eames notices all of a sudden that Arthur is biting his lip, he's white-knuckled where he's holding on to the towel bar.

"Do you want it?" Eames isn't really checking anymore; Arthur’s desires are crystal clear. Mostly Eames is just being kind of an ass because he likes watching Arthur tremble and wait.

But Arthur doesn't scowl or huff, he just nods again and exhales unevenly, moving his feet apart, bracing himself a little better.

Eames knows an invitation when he sees it.

Normally, he's kind of careful about this, the moment when he first slides into Arthur. Eames isn’t neurotic about it, just – considerate. Polite, maybe. But this time, with Arthur so utterly submissive before him, Eames decides on impulse that politeness isn’t the order of the day. He just goes for it, he pushes into Arthur in a long unforgiving motion.

Arthur gasps and grabs at the towel bar but he doesn't do anything to object, he just arches for an instant then opens up, all at once.

Eames is careful to wrap one arm across Arthur's chest, unyielding, muscles flexed, using the other to steady Arthur's hips.

He isn't gentle about it at all as he starts fucking into Arthur, long heavy hard strokes, and Arthur takes it, bracing himself a little better. After a while, the towel bar creaks and the drywall on one side spiderwebs out with tiny cracks, but it doesn't break.

Arthur, who has been mostly just panting hard through all this, loses his stoic silence. He tries to muffle it at first – he presses his open red mouth into his forearm and cries out into it – but Eames keeps going and then Arthur seems to forget about control. His mouth moves away and he starts groaning and swearing loudly, louder still.

Eames always loses his shit a little when Arthur starts being really noisy, and now is no exception. He grabs Arthur harder, drives into him so fiercely that the right side of the towel bar gives way after all with a squeal and a crackle, making Arthur stumble.

But Eames has got him, catching him up tight with the arm around Arthur’s chest. Arthur quickly braces himself on the wall, drywall dust sticking to his skin near his wrist, the outside of his hand, the damp parts of his shirt.

"Do you want to come?" Eames asks, still thrusting, faster now. Arthur can’t do that for himself, not at the moment; he’s too busy holding himself steady while Eames fucks him steady and deep.

Arthur -- Arthur shakes his head, giving an unexpected denial.

Eames doesn't know what to do except keep fucking into Arthur, and besides he's quickly losing any semblance of linear thought. The bathroom is still kind of steamy and it echoes and it's filled with the slap of skin on skin and Arthur's rough loud cries. Arthur seems to be okay, he's good, he's more than good, he's obviously really liking this. It’s not like Eames isn't going to be bossy about it, he's not going to order Arthur to do anything, he's not like that…

Except Eames is going to come, he's going to come very, very soon.

"You have to come," Eames tells Arthur, his voice gone rough and weird even to his ears.

And Arthur does, untouched, all at once.

As he comes, Arthur's arms fold in and lose their tension, he slumps down to loll in the vise grip of Eames' arm. Eames has to push him hard up against the wall so he can keep fucking into him, shallow fast thrusts, frantic. Arthur just takes it, swallowing and gasping and head sagging with release. Eames hides his face in the safety of Arthur's shoulder, feeling Arthur narrow and lean and gorgeous under him, and he comes like that, with Arthur yielding and loose-limbed and sort of dazedly smiling under him.

“What,” Eames gasps, still shifting his hips lazily, riding out the last of his orgasm, “what the ever loving bloody fucking hell was that?”

Arthur is half-dead on his feet from the looks of him, cheek mashed to the plaster and only upright by virtue of Eames holding him there. “Dunno,” Arthur says muzzily. “I never go for that – big. Brick shithouse thing.”

“My cock in your arse begs to differ,” Eames says, smiling slyly, giving Arthur one last good thrust before he softens too much. Arthur rides it out and smiles with half his mouth. “Now I have to shower all over again, you shameless minx, and you’re going to pass out and be no use to me for hours.”

“Mm,” says Arthur, unrepentant and blissful. “Plus the towel bar, we totally broke that.”

Eames shifts back, eases Arthur away from the wall and makes sure he’s got his footing before pulling away. “Damage deposit, gone,” Eames says, steering Arthur towards the bedroom, gently unbuttoning his shirt and tugging his trousers up a little. “All because of your filthy obsession with my devastating manliness.”

“Yeah,” Arthur says as they reach the bedroom, and drops boneless onto the mattress, almost immediately unconscious.

Later he’s going to be shy and grouchy about the whole thing, he’ll blush when Eames alludes to it and get touchy when Eames asks if Arthur wants to wear a collar or call Eames ‘sir’; but right now Arthur is dreamy and smiling and messy and beautiful.

Eames clicks the light off as he leaves the room and heads back to the shower. He might make time for a visit to the gym today.


A/N: Thanks to Lately, who marked this one up but good and took it through two revisions. Any and all remaining errors (and, according to her, most of the 'and's) are absolutely mine.


northern: JC Chasez's hand with some drawn-in-Photoshop colorful fire beneath it. (Default)
[personal profile] northern wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 05:33 pm (UTC)
I love it that Eames doesn't quite know what to do, that he's a little confused. Nicely done!
toomuchplor: (Default)
[personal profile] toomuchplor wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 05:35 am (UTC)
Hee. Poor Eames! He is new to all this.
beachlass: woman wearing red garters, stockings and thong (garters)
[personal profile] beachlass wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 06:07 pm (UTC)
toomuchplor: (Default)
[personal profile] toomuchplor wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 05:36 am (UTC)
arrghigiveup: (Default)
[personal profile] arrghigiveup wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 06:49 pm (UTC)
toomuchplor: (Default)
[personal profile] toomuchplor wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 05:36 am (UTC)
[personal profile] solvent wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 09:00 pm (UTC)
Oh wow. This was so hot and so sweet. I love Eames's inner monologue in this, awww, the things he notices and the bits where he worries about what to do.
toomuchplor: (Default)
[personal profile] toomuchplor wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 05:36 am (UTC)
Thank you! Eames is more thoughtful than he lets on. *g*
mific: (Bum)
[personal profile] mific wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 11:25 am (UTC)
Eames is all buff and Arthur doesn't care that they broke the towel bar! Positive reinforcement FTW!
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 05:51 pm (UTC)
So amazingly beautiful and absolutely scorching hot.

They broke the towel bar!!! ♥
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:14 am (UTC)
*g* Eames is probably not that sad about the damage deposit, all things considered.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 05:59 pm (UTC)
Now that's what I call a perfect Sunday.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:14 am (UTC)
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 06:00 pm (UTC)
Egads, I was still going WHAT NO. THERE'S NO MORE TO SCROLL DOWN TO D: with the last Steinway fic, (except I totally forgot what my DW password is but I digress.) thank heavens for you and inceptionwips, this is the best bedtime story :D
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:15 am (UTC)
Thank you!
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 06:04 pm (UTC)
omg now i can't go to sleep lol! the sex was soo mind blowing! I'll be dreaming of this later Xd
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:15 am (UTC)
Yay! Hope they were happy dreams.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 06:40 pm (UTC)
I love this effinng 'verse so much. I was sitting here all brokenhearted after the last installment and them you give us THIS.

Can't wait for more!
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:15 am (UTC)
It's some solace, I hope? *g*
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 08:19 pm (UTC)
yes i will take this pls.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:16 am (UTC)
Hee. I told you I had the ridic!porn in the wings. *g*
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:24 am (UTC)
and thank GOD because i needed it.
bauble: (Default)
[personal profile] bauble wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 08:43 pm (UTC)
Mmmm, so hot :)
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:16 am (UTC)
Thank you!
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 20th, 2011 09:37 pm (UTC)
After a while, the towel bar creaks and the drywall on one side spiderwebs out with tiny cracks

Oh, that brings back very fond RL memories...

However much I love this, though, I'm still upset for them because they're not fixed yet. When did I get so invested in these characters?
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 06:16 am (UTC)
Oh, that brings back very fond RL memories...

Nice! *g*

I promise, a fix is forthcoming. *coughs* Eventually.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 21st, 2011 05:49 pm (UTC)
Boy am I ever glad I read this 'verse in chronological order, cause I would have been bummed out after the last chapter too. But this was a very very pleasant blast from their past and for that I thank you.

And I've said it before and I'll say again you write some of the best Arthur/Eames banter around, you are seriously clever.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 22nd, 2011 09:42 am (UTC)
Ah, I absolutely love brick shithouse Eames. This is freaking awesome!
Great job.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 24th, 2011 04:14 am (UTC)
I love it when the boys are being unrepentant and shameless. This 'verse rocks.
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 24th, 2011 04:45 am (UTC)
Excuse.. Melted.brain.

I LOVE the steinway verse, and would love to see more of composer!Arthur. And porn, but that's always a given no? ;)

I hope you don't mind me friending you. I'd love to be on top of things when you update :D
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 24th, 2011 03:35 pm (UTC)
This is scorching hot and wonderful. (and I am adding you as a friend for when you write the A/E school fic that you have tempted me with on foxxcub's LJ)
[identity profile] wrote:
Feb. 25th, 2011 05:00 am (UTC)
i kinda only really started breathing when i reached the last sentence of this fic. HOT omg. HOT. <3

as always, love your steinway!verse and your smut. oh god. now i think i need a shower O_O
[identity profile] wrote:
Mar. 3rd, 2011 09:23 pm (UTC)
I rather love the image of Arthur all buttoned up getting all mussed and messy and *undone*.
[identity profile] wrote:
Mar. 13th, 2011 09:17 am (UTC)
Oh, so yummy! I love how baffled Eames was afterwards, and the broken towel rail made me giggle :)

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