[Inception]

Arthur laughs. "I bet you would. Gonna have to earn it," he teases, but his words trail off into a moan as the head of Eames' cock pushes inside him.

Eames had a comeback, he swear he did, but it's lost as soon as he starts pushing inside Arthur. Tight and hot and /exactly/ what Eames wants right now. His eyes rolls back into his skull and he pants shallowly until he bottoms out. Eames rolls his hips, just a little, and grins down at Arthur.

Arthur wraps his legs around Eames' waist and groans into the pillows. He'll never, never, /never/ get tired of this feeling--hot, and full, and connected. He bears down on Eames' cock and begs, "Fuck me, Eames, come on, /please/."

"Hush," Eames says, again, warningly. Then he grins wider. "I will if you call me 'sir'." He rolls his hips again, slowly, and looks Arthur directly in the eye.

Arthur whines, and tries to shift, to shove himself down onto Eames' cock. It doesn't work--Eames is too strong, he can pin Arthur in place when they're in this position. It finally bursts out of him: "please fuck me, /sir/."

Eames cock twitches inside Arthur. He shivers violently. "Fuck me, but that's gorgeous," he breathes, and begins moving his hips properly.

Arthur's panting is interspersed with moans as Eames pounds into him, even though he's biting the inside of his lip to make himself quieter. He starts to want more, want it harder, deeper, and he gets his brain together enough to say, "D'you like this, sir? Like me under you, sir? Been--been fantasising about this, /sir/?"

This throws Eames for a loop; it's been a while since anyone had made him actually /thrill/ during sex. Arthur seems to be able to pull it off each time, and in different ways, too. He lets go of a low, husky kind of laugh and buries himself deeper into Arthur. "You have a filthy mind and an even dirtier mouth," he pants. It's not an answer but Eames has already forgotten the questions, only that they drove him slightly wild.

Arthur grins, mouth curving lazily even as his eyes roll back in his head at the new angle. "Yes, sir," he moans.

Eames bites his lip to stop a groan from escaping. He lifts Arthur's hips to meet him with each stroke, fucking faster and harder as much as he can without making too much noise. "Was this part of your, your fantasies when you touched yourself in this bed?" He says, keeping from grunting and moaning only through sheer force of will.

Arthur reaches up to grab Eames' shoulder, but misses and ends up dragging his hands down Eames' chest instead, stroking his nipples on the way down. "Why d'you think I joined the army? Sir," he barely remembers to add, panting hard.

Eames closes his eyes, both to concentrate on not coming too soon but also because he can't really help his eyes dragging shut, this feels so good. "Ah," he says eventually, remembering what they were talking about. "Then I should - I should be calling you Corporal," he suggests, then opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow, teasing. "Private?"

Arthur rubs Eames' chest, loving how drugged on pleasure he looks. He clenches down on Eames' cock. "Call me whatever you want, sir."

Eames throws his head back and just about catches his moan before it escapes. "I'm going to call you 'mine'," he pants just because his thrusts get wild, uncontrolled.

That hits something deep inside him. Arthur arches into Eames and comes, entirely untouched, shooting between them.

Eames comes with him, shocked at the sudden shift in Arthur's reactions, pushed over the edge by them. He has to drop to cover Arthur and bite his shoulder to keep from crying out loudly.

Arthur is biting his own lips to stay as silent as he can as he comes, his whole body gone stiff. Eames slumping on top of him makes him jerk a little, weakly, rubbing his softening cock into the mess on their stomachs. "I love you so fucking much," he says, voice scratchy and hoarse.

"Language, Private," Eames laughs feebly, euphorically, and picks himself up enough to kiss Arthur on the mouth. "I love you, too."

Arthur wraps his arms around Eames and kisses back, messy and wet, then yawns into Eames' neck. "How do you always get me to come so fast."

Eames sits up properly to take his cock out of Arthur along with the condom, so that it doesn't make too much of a mess. He grunts, slightly, when he pulls out. "I'll be able to answer that if you can answer why you always make me come so hard," he counters. "I feel as though I've thrown out a muscle down there."

"I'll have to give you a massage," Arthur grins. "Wait a sec." He pulls open the second drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a roll of garbage bags, tearing one off and shaking it open for the condom.

Eames ties the end of the condom off and chucks it, shoulders shaking with laughter as he does.

"Go on, say it," Arthur says, sighing--he's grinning, though, even as he sounds exasperated. "Always be prepared, right?"

"You push it to a whole new level, Arthur," Eames laughs and might even poke him in the side, gently. "I mean - how old were you when you left home and you kept little baggies?"

Arthur rolls his eyes. "The bags are for the bin under the desk."

Eames settles himself beside Arthur and pulls him close. He's still chuckling softly. "Good save, love."

"I'm /serious/," Arthur complains, all the while snuggling into Eames. He fumbles around underneath them, working the blanket out so he can pull it over them.

"Of /course/ you are," Eames teases gently and presses his lips to Arthur's temple. "I believe you."

Arthur lets his eyes droop closed. There's no guarantees someone won't come and find them, but he's fairly sure he locked the door when Eames shoved him up against it, so they should be okay. "I know you do."

Eames keeps his lips pressed to Arthur's temple and smiles. He starts to drift off a bit. He can almost hear the rest of the household move around, and it lulls him into a doze.

Arthur probably looks around at his room for a while, listens to the house noises, before he nods off. It's so strange to be back here, with Eames wrapped so warmly around him. If he ever came back here, he'd expected to come alone. It's nice to not be alone, and even nicer to be with Eames in particular. But eventually he dozes off too, breathing softly into Eames' collar. Aw.

Possibly the most adorable. Hopefully they cleaned up enough to have Camilla be able to come in with their breakfast in the morning (as if a locked door could keep her out of a room in her house) and she gets to see her boy sleeping, not only peacefully, but happily.

Well, they're all wrapped up in blankets and I'm sure Camilla's seen Arthur worse. Clothes will be everywhere but they'll look decent enough. And that is such a lovely image, Camilla pleased to see her son happy at last. She did worry about him quite a bit when he was growing up; he always preferred his own company, except when he wanted knowledge from someone. Somehow she thinks Eames is very different for Arthur.

She'd be right about Eames being different. To a certain degree. But he wasn't very good with people when he younger. If it weren't for his brother, Eames would have turned out just as closed off as Arthur.

I meant that Eames is different in Arthur's perspective--that Eames isn't just someone Arthur wants something from, information or knowledge or money, or so on. Eames is different. Also I really really really do love the thought of Eames and his brother.

SO DO I. Twins, man. They are the funnest. Also, Arthur, stop being that level of cute this instant. I don't know what to do with myself and Eames certainly doesn't. Besides, if Ariadne hears that kind of cute come out then I expect there will be some amount of huge smiling and maybe a squeal or two.

Arthur didn't know he was being cute and Ariadne's squealing bewilders him, heh. Though if Eames and his brother do something twin-y Arthur might do some squealing of his own. Okay, maybe not, he has dignity, but there will be wide eyes.

I'm thinking they talk in unison, no matter how long they've been away from each other. The more time they spend together the more they'd start moving in unison, though, things like crossing legs or coughing and stuff like that. Eames' brother (Thomas, obviously, heh) doesn't have any tattoos, though, and he may or may not have longer or significantly shorter hair. Still as built, I would say, due to them both being very active people.

He may also be a boxer. Hm. Unsure.

Squeal away, Arthur.

Arthur is going to be absolutely in awe of having two similar Eames. But, and I'm taking authorial license here, I'm sure he'll always be able to tell which Eames is his Eames. If only because of the hair and the sappy smile on his Eames' face when he looks at Arthur.

Oh, most certainly. If you're close to a twin then you can tell them apart, it's very easy. Eames isn't worried. He /might/ have to call Eames Edward, though, since calling him Eames would cause confusion at first. Heh; Eames' brother is going to know straight away how completely devoted he is to Arthur, you know. After he gets over the initial shock of having his brother alive again.

Arthur likes people knowing about them, he's fascinated to discover. Especially people they're close to, people who know them. They're all so pleased. And it will be weird, calling him Edward, but he'll find a way to make it good; sex, for example, heh.

(Also, I have a meeting thing in ten minutes that I may not be able to email during.)

Sex could definitely get Eames more used to his name, heh. He was /just/ thinking this, how odd.

(*salute*)

Arthur gasping 'Edward' in his ear as he soundly fucks Eames, or is soundly fucked by him. Yes, I can't imagine how that came to be on Eames' mind.

(Well that meeting went rather longer than I thought.)

Seems entirely intimate to him. All kinds of warm and fuzzies plus boner times.

(Stupid meetings. And now I must go and get ready to leave for a while.)

Those are the best kind of times for Arthur and Eames, snicker. Well, those times, and the times with all the running and adrenaline and bad guys, those are fun too.

(maaaaan all the stupid rl stuff)