eternalsojourn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eternalsojourn) wrote2011-08-04 03:56 pm
eternalsojourn) wrote2011-08-04 03:56 pm
Entry tags:
Learning Curve
It began, as these things sometimes do, on twitter. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eamesie posted a delectable picture of JGL as Dr. Don going down, wet-lipped and gorgeous. Serious and scientific discussion resulted, and then I suggested that perhaps a fic should exist in which forgedlady!Eames teaches bb!Arthur how to go down. So here you go, eamesie! I hope you like it.
See under the cut for the picture (and bonus gif she made!) in question.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~3000
Warnings: Genderbending (for part of it), Age disparity
Summary: Eames forges a woman in order to teach bb!Arthur how to go down. Arthur takes what Eames offers; Eames might have it a little bit wrong.
Beta:night_reveals, and much encouragement from countrypixie1. Gorgeous, talented ladies, both, and I’m lucky to have them.
“Not bad, Eames. Not bad at all,” Cobb says appraisingly, arms folded across his chest.
Eames sits cross legged on a bar stool drinking a garnet-coloured glass of Pinot Noir in the smoky lounge of a Budapest jazz bar. He’s dressed to the nines in his best can’t-refuse-me buxom redhead and a slinky emerald dress. His eyes flick to Arthur standing behind Cobb, dressed in slacks, a blue button-up shirt and a charcoal cashmere jumper. He’s dressed better than Cobb, but then he usually is. An attempt to look older than his 18 years and be taken more seriously would be Eames’s guess. Arthur’s usually placid demeanour betrays a spark of interest this time, though, and he looks her over as he bites his lip.
Turning back to Cobb, Eames carries on discussing the upcoming forge, but a part of his mind is already turning over several tantalizing scenarios.
----
“This was a mistake,” Arthur says, stepping backwards towards the door of the hotel room. It’s a pointless gesture, more reflex than purpose; all he has to do is draw his gun and shoot himself. He doesn’t get the chance to do either as Eames reaches out and tugs his arm. “This really isn’t nec...”
“Necessary is just a matter of perspective. Of course it isn’t necessary, but beneficial, certainly. Now how is this? To your liking?” Eames stands before Arthur as an impossibly tall, slender blue-eyed platinum blonde woman. She’s dressed in a form-hugging simple black dress and stylish but understated jewels.
Arthur looks at Eames warily. “I don’t --” he curbs himself at Eames’s challenging stare. He licks his lips. “Could you do someone... curvier? Maybe a little more natural? And um, darker hair?”
Eames smiles, flexes and shivers on a new body, a new woman. This one is shorter by a good four inches, longer chestnut hair falling in large waves, and lush curves stretching the fabric of her dress. This pale blue chiffon number is flouncier, falling over her hips loosely. Arthur, despite his earlier reserve, drags his eyes down the length of her body. He looks back up at her face, then tilts his head.
“Blue eyes,” he says flatly.
Eames raises a perfect eyebrow. “Don’t like blue?” he asks.
Arthur looks mildly abashed, but presses on. “I like grey. Well, blue-grey.”
Eames smirks, delighted. A tiny flash, a small shift, and her eyes are a perfect flinted slate blue, startlingly familiar. Arthur’s nostrils flare slightly and his smile sparks the dimples he tries so hard to hide.
“Ah, I’ve met with your approval. Marvelous. How’s the voice? I could do an American accent if you prefer -- Californian, perhaps?”
“No, I -- this one is fine.” Arthur still looks uncomfortable, like he hasn’t quite made up his mind to stay. He rubs his hands on his trousers.
Eames softens her expression and runs a soothing hand up and down Arthur’s arm. “Of course this isn’t necessary,” she says, though her tone is now considerate rather than dismissive. “We could try a little, and if you’re still not sure, we can stop. Hm?”
Arthur considers for a moment, then meets Eames’s eyes. He nods once, small.
Eames gets a wicked glint in her eye before taking a breath and tilting her chin up, adopting an instructive air. “I can’t exactly tell you what will work for every woman, but a safe bet is a strong, confident touch.”
Arthur just stands, fingers flexing. Eames loops long, graceful fingers around Arthur’s wrist and lifts Arthur’s hand to her own waist. She lifts Arthur’s other hand to her mouth and kisses his fingers, presses full lips to his knuckles. She slides her fingertips under Arthur’s, guiding two of his fingers into her mouth to lick and suckle.
Arthur’s mouth falls open slightly, his gaze heavy as his other hand flexes on Eames’s waist, squeezes and pulls her closer.
Eames lets Arthur’s hand drop away, smiling with glistening lips. “That’s it. Touch me like I’m yours. If you act too hesitant, I’ll think you don’t want me.” Eames’s smile is teasing, but Arthur looks a bit mortified. Eames cups his hand around Arthur’s jaw then drops it. “You’d better kiss me, then.”
Arthur reaches up hesitantly and places his hand on Eames’s delicate shoulder. His fingers stroke over her smooth skin and he frowns in concentration.
Eames smooths a thumb over Arthur’s brow. “Why so serious, love? If you ever expect your lover to enjoy themselves, you’ll have to enjoy yourself first. Isn’t this good for you?”
Arthur bites his lip, looks up into Eames’s eyes and, frowning, bends in and kisses her. He’s slightly taller, and Eames has to tilt up to meet Arthur’s lips. It’s soft at first, and Eames doesn’t open until Arthur grows more bold, pressing his tongue to the seam of her lips gently, seeking entrance. When she does open to him, Arthur’s reserve breaks and he pulls her tight, massaging her tongue with his, confident and demanding. Eames flutters a little sigh and molds herself to him.
Arthur breaks the kiss to pull back and look at Eames’s face, considering. Eames is flushed and takes a sharp breath, regaining her composure.
“It’s amazing, you’re so... you’re a woman,” Arthur says, voice husky and low. Eames has always been struck by Arthur’s masculine voice, deeper than one would expect. She smiles.
“Yes, well that is rather the point, isn’t it? This is what I do.” She lets her hands drift down to gently glide over Arthur’s ass and Arthur smirks, cheeky and just a little shy. “Is this how you kiss all the girls, Arthur? I don’t know why you lack confidence, but perhaps...” she tilts her head, thinking. “Ah. It’s not the kissing, is it?” She guides his hand up her waist, places it under the curve of her breast. Arthur flushes, lips forming a tight line.
Suppressing a laugh, Eames nudges Arthur’s jaw with her nose and brushes her lips across his skin. “Consider this a consequence-free playground. I’m a sure thing.”
Arthur looks like he’s about to say something, argue maybe, but changes his mind. Instead he slips the strap off her shoulder and kisses her there, gently lifts her breast out of the dress and folds down the soft lace of her bra. His fingers brush over her nipple, causing it to perk up slightly.
When he simply continues kissing her shoulder, Eames whispers, “Go on, I want you to.”
Arthur bends to take her nipple between his lips and licks at it gently. Eames reaches a perfectly manicured hand up to ruffle through his curls and watches his face fondly. Her chest rises and falls as she takes a breath when he begins to suck. She presses into him briefly before pulling back, guiding him to the gigantic bed. She’s slightly too short to simply sit, so Arthur reaches down to cup her bum and lift her. He presses the fronts of his thighs against the bed between her legs and kisses her again. She braces one hand on the bed behind her has he leans forward and she utters a soft moan.
“Mm, you are a quick learner,” she says as she nips at his lip, running one hand through his hair. Eames runs her hands lightly over his chest, then undoes his buttons. She shifts back to semi-recline on the mass of pillows and tugs on Arthur’s hand. He crawls up between her legs and props himself up on one elbow rather awkwardly keeping his weight off her.
“You can rest on me a little,” Eames says, watching her fingers run up his stomach and gently twist around one nipple. “The weight is nice, actually.”
Arthur relaxes a little and Eames hums in appreciation. With a hand cupped around his neck she pulls him in to kiss, long and slow, until he relaxes completely and his breath goes heavy. She continues running her hands over his body, up under the back of his shirt. He follows her lead after a while and seeks her curves, the dip just below her ribs, the swell of the underside of her breast over the light material. When he slides a hand up her bare leg, Eames gasps slightly in surprise. He stops.
“Oh no, darling. Exactly that. You musn’t be put off by a little gasping. It means you’re doing it right.”
Arthur huffs a laugh that has no real mirth in it, just nerves, but he slides his hand upwards and feels around the edges of her panties. Eames lifts her hips and Arthur takes the hint, hooks his fingers over the material and backs off to help her out of them.
Eames reaches out to smooth his brow of the frown that has appeared on Arthur’s face and orders him gently, “Up here again, come on.”
He does and kisses her with something like relief, a return to familiar territory. She gives him no reprieve, though, as she guides his hand up between her legs, feeling his fingers twitch and flinch. She grabs two of his fingers and slides them up and down, wet and slick. He groans into her mouth.
“Put them in,” she says, although the instruction is unnecessary when she’s pushing his fingers inside. This time is frown isn’t one of hesitation, but of disbelief. He presses them in further while claiming her mouth for a deep and delving kiss, and this is it. She’s won him now.
Taking advantage of his momentum she kisses down his jaw, crawls her fingers over his trousers and deftly undoes them, slipping her hand inside his boxers to grasp him firmly. The breath rushes out of his lungs and he shudders. She simply squeezes him once and withdraws her hand, drawing a sigh from him that’s at once dismayed and relieved. Eames presses down on his shoulder.
Arthur moves down, obeisant, but when he’s there he just runs his hands a few inches back and forth on her thighs, looking up at her.
“Eames,” he clears his throat.
“Just start by kissing my thigh, then work your way up. Can you do that?”
Arthur smiles and relaxes, comfortable with direction. He presses his lips to her skin, focused and intent, and licks her flesh. Eames puts her head back and smiles, sighs. Arthur, to his credit, does exactly as he’s asked and moves upwards without hesitation, kissing around the edges of her wet folds, into the down soft hair and breathing her in.
She pants lightly and says, “Hm, you do have some advantages, Arthur.” She gasps when his tongue gently tastes her for the first time. “You take your time. That’s... ahh.” Arthur licks again, a little more firmly and Eames lets her legs fall further open. “Not too much too quickly, just -- oh -- just like that for a bit.” She feels a gentle gust of warm air and thinks Arthur has probably laughed, pleased with himself.
He does continue exactly as he started with Eames giving a few instructions along the way, “suckle a little, like that, mm” and “kiss me, use your lips”. He never works his way closer to her clit, which after a while begins to drive her mad. Finally she reaches down and brackets herself with two fingers, pinching it slightly and rubbing just a little. “Arthur,” she groans, drawing out the ‘r’. “Put your lips up here. Be gentle, though.”
“Of course,” he says, voice a low rumble, then gives one delving lick up inside her and latching on gently to her hood, suckling softly. Eames arches up her hips, pressing into Arthur’s mouth and driving her feet onto the mattress.
“A little harder now, just... there... yes,” she pants, gripping the bedspread with white-knuckled fingers. Her whole body shudders and Arthur stays latched on, causing Eames to cry out. She jerks slightly, then tries to pull back from him. He finally takes the hint and lets go, pressing a wet kiss to her thigh. He looks up to her, over the pooled material of her dress on her stomach, and he’s panting as hard as she is, lips glistening.
She pulls him up and kisses him hungrily, reaching for his cock and rubbing the precome that has already smeared over the head of his cock. She tries to guide it to her entrance but he pulls back.
Eames frowns in worry. “Don’t you want to? We can down here, we don’t have to --” she breaks off when Arthur shakes his head.
“I’ve never done this,” he says, quiet but not ashamed.
Eames knew this, or suspected. She’s not surprised, anyway. She pushes him back so he’s kneeling and bends down to take him in her mouth. He stops her.
“No, Eames. Don’t.”
“Arthur, I want to,” Eames kneels up in front of him and runs a thumb along his jaw. Arthur looks away.
“Not like this,” he says. “Not with you like this.”
Eames pulls back, baffled. “You wanted this.”
“I did. Just not like this. I said I did because you thought... anyway, if you do really want to, could you... change back?”
Eames is genuinely taken aback. He’s not used to reading a situation wrong, and he swore what he saw in Arthur’s eyes was desire when he was the redhead. He thinks of what he just had Arthur do and feels a little sick.
“Do you not like women, then?”
Arthur looks abashed. “I don’t not like women. I just hadn’t seen you forge before. It... intrigued me.”
“Ahh,” Eames says softly, and with less visible effort just kind of shifts, and is Eames once more, dressed in slacks but no shirt. “So if I were to kiss you like this then, there would be no objection.” He smirks, but it’s tinged with hesitance, a question. Arthur leans forward and presses his lips against Eames’s.
This time there’s no pause; Arthur opens and licks in, expectant. Eames doesn’t disappoint, pressing in harder and licking back, and it’s funny how different Arthur feels when Eames is back in his own body. Arthur’s a little softer, and he doesn’t think he imagines Arthur’s increased fervour.
Eames kisses down Arthur’s chin and across his chest, licking his sweat-salty skin as he goes. He dips his head to where Arthur is peeking out of his trousers, just over the top of his boxers. He mouths at the tip lightly, licking along his slit to gather the precome there. Arthur groans and leans his upper body back, resting on his hands and lifting his hips so Eames can ease his trousers and boxers down enough to free his now fully returned erection.
Eames is gentle at first, kissing down Arthur’s length and curling his tongue around, feeling its texture. Arthur presses his hips up but Eames refuses to take the hint, instead pressing down on Arthur’s thighs and suckling on the tender, loose skin of his sac. He works his way back up, fluttering his tongue all the way up to the tip and then finally takes just the head into his mouth. Arthur stutters a gasp and his cock jumps. Realizing how close Arthur is to coming, Eames squeezes at the base and pulls off.
“Ah ah ah,” he says, smiling. “Not just yet.” He kisses at Arthur’s abs, which are flexing with the effort of holding himself back. He moves up to take Arthur’s mouth again, still squeezing, and kisses him until he feels the tension subside in his hand.
He moves back down and licks again, gently taking Arthur’s cock in his mouth and sliding down, enveloping his whole length. When Arthur’s cock jumps again, he squeezes, stills his mouth but doesn’t pull off. Arthur takes a few deep breaths and Eames resumes, sucking lightly and sliding his tongue over Arthur’s skin. He tilts his head to look up, sees Arthur’s head lolled to one side with his eyes closed, unbuttoned shirt hanging open. When Arthur opens his eyes and sees Eames looking up at him, he shudders. With no warning at all he spurts into Eames’s mouth, and Eames opens slightly to jack him, aiming it so that he feels the hot splashes on his tongue, the roof of his mouth, makes sure he gets a little on his lips.
When Arthur sits on his calves and draws a long, shaky breath, Eames swallows then looks up at Arthur, slowly licking a thick white globule off the corner of his mouth. He leans in for a kiss, and Arthur looks momentarily stunned before sighing and accepting it, sucking the rest off Eames’s lips and kissing him deeply. The shared bitter taste between them is warm and satisfying.
Resting a hand on Arthur’s waist, Eames pulls back and says, “We could get out of this dream, or we could get naked and climb under the covers. Hm?”
By way of answer Arthur sits up straight and shrugs out of his shirt. Eames swiftly undresses and pulls Arthur to him and their tongues tangle lazily. Arthur pushes Eames down and rests a hand on his chest, kissing him from above and Eames guesses the “under the covers” portion of things has gone out the window. He doesn’t mind, not when his hand has already started to skate over Arthur’s smooth skin.
“Eames,” Arthur says as he places a few kisses on Eames’s jaw before resting his head on Eames’s shoulder and ruffling the hairs on his chest. “Why did you bring me down here?”
Eames rumbles a laugh. “I’d been looking for an in with you since Cobb introduced us. I thought this was the easiest way.”
Arthur huffs a laugh through his nose, chews his lip. “Well, it worked. Next time could we do this topside, though? And I’ll show you the one thing I have learned well.” He lifts Eames’s hand to his mouth and sucks in one fingers, mouth impossibly soft and yielding, closing around Eames’s skin.
Eames raises an incredulous eyebrow while at the same time his body flushes with renewed arousal. “Why, Arthur. Not such the blushing virgin you pretended.”
Arthur grins around Eames’s finger.
***End***
eamesie posted a delectable picture of JGL as Dr. Don going down, wet-lipped and gorgeous. Serious and scientific discussion resulted, and then I suggested that perhaps a fic should exist in which forgedlady!Eames teaches bb!Arthur how to go down. So here you go, eamesie! I hope you like it.See under the cut for the picture (and bonus gif she made!) in question.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~3000
Warnings: Genderbending (for part of it), Age disparity
Summary: Eames forges a woman in order to teach bb!Arthur how to go down. Arthur takes what Eames offers; Eames might have it a little bit wrong.
Beta:
night_reveals, and much encouragement from countrypixie1. Gorgeous, talented ladies, both, and I’m lucky to have them.Learning Curve
“Not bad, Eames. Not bad at all,” Cobb says appraisingly, arms folded across his chest.
Eames sits cross legged on a bar stool drinking a garnet-coloured glass of Pinot Noir in the smoky lounge of a Budapest jazz bar. He’s dressed to the nines in his best can’t-refuse-me buxom redhead and a slinky emerald dress. His eyes flick to Arthur standing behind Cobb, dressed in slacks, a blue button-up shirt and a charcoal cashmere jumper. He’s dressed better than Cobb, but then he usually is. An attempt to look older than his 18 years and be taken more seriously would be Eames’s guess. Arthur’s usually placid demeanour betrays a spark of interest this time, though, and he looks her over as he bites his lip.
Turning back to Cobb, Eames carries on discussing the upcoming forge, but a part of his mind is already turning over several tantalizing scenarios.
----
“This was a mistake,” Arthur says, stepping backwards towards the door of the hotel room. It’s a pointless gesture, more reflex than purpose; all he has to do is draw his gun and shoot himself. He doesn’t get the chance to do either as Eames reaches out and tugs his arm. “This really isn’t nec...”
“Necessary is just a matter of perspective. Of course it isn’t necessary, but beneficial, certainly. Now how is this? To your liking?” Eames stands before Arthur as an impossibly tall, slender blue-eyed platinum blonde woman. She’s dressed in a form-hugging simple black dress and stylish but understated jewels.
Arthur looks at Eames warily. “I don’t --” he curbs himself at Eames’s challenging stare. He licks his lips. “Could you do someone... curvier? Maybe a little more natural? And um, darker hair?”
Eames smiles, flexes and shivers on a new body, a new woman. This one is shorter by a good four inches, longer chestnut hair falling in large waves, and lush curves stretching the fabric of her dress. This pale blue chiffon number is flouncier, falling over her hips loosely. Arthur, despite his earlier reserve, drags his eyes down the length of her body. He looks back up at her face, then tilts his head.
“Blue eyes,” he says flatly.
Eames raises a perfect eyebrow. “Don’t like blue?” he asks.
Arthur looks mildly abashed, but presses on. “I like grey. Well, blue-grey.”
Eames smirks, delighted. A tiny flash, a small shift, and her eyes are a perfect flinted slate blue, startlingly familiar. Arthur’s nostrils flare slightly and his smile sparks the dimples he tries so hard to hide.
“Ah, I’ve met with your approval. Marvelous. How’s the voice? I could do an American accent if you prefer -- Californian, perhaps?”
“No, I -- this one is fine.” Arthur still looks uncomfortable, like he hasn’t quite made up his mind to stay. He rubs his hands on his trousers.
Eames softens her expression and runs a soothing hand up and down Arthur’s arm. “Of course this isn’t necessary,” she says, though her tone is now considerate rather than dismissive. “We could try a little, and if you’re still not sure, we can stop. Hm?”
Arthur considers for a moment, then meets Eames’s eyes. He nods once, small.
Eames gets a wicked glint in her eye before taking a breath and tilting her chin up, adopting an instructive air. “I can’t exactly tell you what will work for every woman, but a safe bet is a strong, confident touch.”
Arthur just stands, fingers flexing. Eames loops long, graceful fingers around Arthur’s wrist and lifts Arthur’s hand to her own waist. She lifts Arthur’s other hand to her mouth and kisses his fingers, presses full lips to his knuckles. She slides her fingertips under Arthur’s, guiding two of his fingers into her mouth to lick and suckle.
Arthur’s mouth falls open slightly, his gaze heavy as his other hand flexes on Eames’s waist, squeezes and pulls her closer.
Eames lets Arthur’s hand drop away, smiling with glistening lips. “That’s it. Touch me like I’m yours. If you act too hesitant, I’ll think you don’t want me.” Eames’s smile is teasing, but Arthur looks a bit mortified. Eames cups his hand around Arthur’s jaw then drops it. “You’d better kiss me, then.”
Arthur reaches up hesitantly and places his hand on Eames’s delicate shoulder. His fingers stroke over her smooth skin and he frowns in concentration.
Eames smooths a thumb over Arthur’s brow. “Why so serious, love? If you ever expect your lover to enjoy themselves, you’ll have to enjoy yourself first. Isn’t this good for you?”
Arthur bites his lip, looks up into Eames’s eyes and, frowning, bends in and kisses her. He’s slightly taller, and Eames has to tilt up to meet Arthur’s lips. It’s soft at first, and Eames doesn’t open until Arthur grows more bold, pressing his tongue to the seam of her lips gently, seeking entrance. When she does open to him, Arthur’s reserve breaks and he pulls her tight, massaging her tongue with his, confident and demanding. Eames flutters a little sigh and molds herself to him.
Arthur breaks the kiss to pull back and look at Eames’s face, considering. Eames is flushed and takes a sharp breath, regaining her composure.
“It’s amazing, you’re so... you’re a woman,” Arthur says, voice husky and low. Eames has always been struck by Arthur’s masculine voice, deeper than one would expect. She smiles.
“Yes, well that is rather the point, isn’t it? This is what I do.” She lets her hands drift down to gently glide over Arthur’s ass and Arthur smirks, cheeky and just a little shy. “Is this how you kiss all the girls, Arthur? I don’t know why you lack confidence, but perhaps...” she tilts her head, thinking. “Ah. It’s not the kissing, is it?” She guides his hand up her waist, places it under the curve of her breast. Arthur flushes, lips forming a tight line.
Suppressing a laugh, Eames nudges Arthur’s jaw with her nose and brushes her lips across his skin. “Consider this a consequence-free playground. I’m a sure thing.”
Arthur looks like he’s about to say something, argue maybe, but changes his mind. Instead he slips the strap off her shoulder and kisses her there, gently lifts her breast out of the dress and folds down the soft lace of her bra. His fingers brush over her nipple, causing it to perk up slightly.
When he simply continues kissing her shoulder, Eames whispers, “Go on, I want you to.”
Arthur bends to take her nipple between his lips and licks at it gently. Eames reaches a perfectly manicured hand up to ruffle through his curls and watches his face fondly. Her chest rises and falls as she takes a breath when he begins to suck. She presses into him briefly before pulling back, guiding him to the gigantic bed. She’s slightly too short to simply sit, so Arthur reaches down to cup her bum and lift her. He presses the fronts of his thighs against the bed between her legs and kisses her again. She braces one hand on the bed behind her has he leans forward and she utters a soft moan.
“Mm, you are a quick learner,” she says as she nips at his lip, running one hand through his hair. Eames runs her hands lightly over his chest, then undoes his buttons. She shifts back to semi-recline on the mass of pillows and tugs on Arthur’s hand. He crawls up between her legs and props himself up on one elbow rather awkwardly keeping his weight off her.
“You can rest on me a little,” Eames says, watching her fingers run up his stomach and gently twist around one nipple. “The weight is nice, actually.”
Arthur relaxes a little and Eames hums in appreciation. With a hand cupped around his neck she pulls him in to kiss, long and slow, until he relaxes completely and his breath goes heavy. She continues running her hands over his body, up under the back of his shirt. He follows her lead after a while and seeks her curves, the dip just below her ribs, the swell of the underside of her breast over the light material. When he slides a hand up her bare leg, Eames gasps slightly in surprise. He stops.
“Oh no, darling. Exactly that. You musn’t be put off by a little gasping. It means you’re doing it right.”
Arthur huffs a laugh that has no real mirth in it, just nerves, but he slides his hand upwards and feels around the edges of her panties. Eames lifts her hips and Arthur takes the hint, hooks his fingers over the material and backs off to help her out of them.
Eames reaches out to smooth his brow of the frown that has appeared on Arthur’s face and orders him gently, “Up here again, come on.”
He does and kisses her with something like relief, a return to familiar territory. She gives him no reprieve, though, as she guides his hand up between her legs, feeling his fingers twitch and flinch. She grabs two of his fingers and slides them up and down, wet and slick. He groans into her mouth.
“Put them in,” she says, although the instruction is unnecessary when she’s pushing his fingers inside. This time is frown isn’t one of hesitation, but of disbelief. He presses them in further while claiming her mouth for a deep and delving kiss, and this is it. She’s won him now.
Taking advantage of his momentum she kisses down his jaw, crawls her fingers over his trousers and deftly undoes them, slipping her hand inside his boxers to grasp him firmly. The breath rushes out of his lungs and he shudders. She simply squeezes him once and withdraws her hand, drawing a sigh from him that’s at once dismayed and relieved. Eames presses down on his shoulder.
Arthur moves down, obeisant, but when he’s there he just runs his hands a few inches back and forth on her thighs, looking up at her.
“Eames,” he clears his throat.
“Just start by kissing my thigh, then work your way up. Can you do that?”
Arthur smiles and relaxes, comfortable with direction. He presses his lips to her skin, focused and intent, and licks her flesh. Eames puts her head back and smiles, sighs. Arthur, to his credit, does exactly as he’s asked and moves upwards without hesitation, kissing around the edges of her wet folds, into the down soft hair and breathing her in.
She pants lightly and says, “Hm, you do have some advantages, Arthur.” She gasps when his tongue gently tastes her for the first time. “You take your time. That’s... ahh.” Arthur licks again, a little more firmly and Eames lets her legs fall further open. “Not too much too quickly, just -- oh -- just like that for a bit.” She feels a gentle gust of warm air and thinks Arthur has probably laughed, pleased with himself.
He does continue exactly as he started with Eames giving a few instructions along the way, “suckle a little, like that, mm” and “kiss me, use your lips”. He never works his way closer to her clit, which after a while begins to drive her mad. Finally she reaches down and brackets herself with two fingers, pinching it slightly and rubbing just a little. “Arthur,” she groans, drawing out the ‘r’. “Put your lips up here. Be gentle, though.”
“Of course,” he says, voice a low rumble, then gives one delving lick up inside her and latching on gently to her hood, suckling softly. Eames arches up her hips, pressing into Arthur’s mouth and driving her feet onto the mattress.
“A little harder now, just... there... yes,” she pants, gripping the bedspread with white-knuckled fingers. Her whole body shudders and Arthur stays latched on, causing Eames to cry out. She jerks slightly, then tries to pull back from him. He finally takes the hint and lets go, pressing a wet kiss to her thigh. He looks up to her, over the pooled material of her dress on her stomach, and he’s panting as hard as she is, lips glistening.
She pulls him up and kisses him hungrily, reaching for his cock and rubbing the precome that has already smeared over the head of his cock. She tries to guide it to her entrance but he pulls back.
Eames frowns in worry. “Don’t you want to? We can down here, we don’t have to --” she breaks off when Arthur shakes his head.
“I’ve never done this,” he says, quiet but not ashamed.
Eames knew this, or suspected. She’s not surprised, anyway. She pushes him back so he’s kneeling and bends down to take him in her mouth. He stops her.
“No, Eames. Don’t.”
“Arthur, I want to,” Eames kneels up in front of him and runs a thumb along his jaw. Arthur looks away.
“Not like this,” he says. “Not with you like this.”
Eames pulls back, baffled. “You wanted this.”
“I did. Just not like this. I said I did because you thought... anyway, if you do really want to, could you... change back?”
Eames is genuinely taken aback. He’s not used to reading a situation wrong, and he swore what he saw in Arthur’s eyes was desire when he was the redhead. He thinks of what he just had Arthur do and feels a little sick.
“Do you not like women, then?”
Arthur looks abashed. “I don’t not like women. I just hadn’t seen you forge before. It... intrigued me.”
“Ahh,” Eames says softly, and with less visible effort just kind of shifts, and is Eames once more, dressed in slacks but no shirt. “So if I were to kiss you like this then, there would be no objection.” He smirks, but it’s tinged with hesitance, a question. Arthur leans forward and presses his lips against Eames’s.
This time there’s no pause; Arthur opens and licks in, expectant. Eames doesn’t disappoint, pressing in harder and licking back, and it’s funny how different Arthur feels when Eames is back in his own body. Arthur’s a little softer, and he doesn’t think he imagines Arthur’s increased fervour.
Eames kisses down Arthur’s chin and across his chest, licking his sweat-salty skin as he goes. He dips his head to where Arthur is peeking out of his trousers, just over the top of his boxers. He mouths at the tip lightly, licking along his slit to gather the precome there. Arthur groans and leans his upper body back, resting on his hands and lifting his hips so Eames can ease his trousers and boxers down enough to free his now fully returned erection.
Eames is gentle at first, kissing down Arthur’s length and curling his tongue around, feeling its texture. Arthur presses his hips up but Eames refuses to take the hint, instead pressing down on Arthur’s thighs and suckling on the tender, loose skin of his sac. He works his way back up, fluttering his tongue all the way up to the tip and then finally takes just the head into his mouth. Arthur stutters a gasp and his cock jumps. Realizing how close Arthur is to coming, Eames squeezes at the base and pulls off.
“Ah ah ah,” he says, smiling. “Not just yet.” He kisses at Arthur’s abs, which are flexing with the effort of holding himself back. He moves up to take Arthur’s mouth again, still squeezing, and kisses him until he feels the tension subside in his hand.
He moves back down and licks again, gently taking Arthur’s cock in his mouth and sliding down, enveloping his whole length. When Arthur’s cock jumps again, he squeezes, stills his mouth but doesn’t pull off. Arthur takes a few deep breaths and Eames resumes, sucking lightly and sliding his tongue over Arthur’s skin. He tilts his head to look up, sees Arthur’s head lolled to one side with his eyes closed, unbuttoned shirt hanging open. When Arthur opens his eyes and sees Eames looking up at him, he shudders. With no warning at all he spurts into Eames’s mouth, and Eames opens slightly to jack him, aiming it so that he feels the hot splashes on his tongue, the roof of his mouth, makes sure he gets a little on his lips.
When Arthur sits on his calves and draws a long, shaky breath, Eames swallows then looks up at Arthur, slowly licking a thick white globule off the corner of his mouth. He leans in for a kiss, and Arthur looks momentarily stunned before sighing and accepting it, sucking the rest off Eames’s lips and kissing him deeply. The shared bitter taste between them is warm and satisfying.
Resting a hand on Arthur’s waist, Eames pulls back and says, “We could get out of this dream, or we could get naked and climb under the covers. Hm?”
By way of answer Arthur sits up straight and shrugs out of his shirt. Eames swiftly undresses and pulls Arthur to him and their tongues tangle lazily. Arthur pushes Eames down and rests a hand on his chest, kissing him from above and Eames guesses the “under the covers” portion of things has gone out the window. He doesn’t mind, not when his hand has already started to skate over Arthur’s smooth skin.
“Eames,” Arthur says as he places a few kisses on Eames’s jaw before resting his head on Eames’s shoulder and ruffling the hairs on his chest. “Why did you bring me down here?”
Eames rumbles a laugh. “I’d been looking for an in with you since Cobb introduced us. I thought this was the easiest way.”
Arthur huffs a laugh through his nose, chews his lip. “Well, it worked. Next time could we do this topside, though? And I’ll show you the one thing I have learned well.” He lifts Eames’s hand to his mouth and sucks in one fingers, mouth impossibly soft and yielding, closing around Eames’s skin.
Eames raises an incredulous eyebrow while at the same time his body flushes with renewed arousal. “Why, Arthur. Not such the blushing virgin you pretended.”
Arthur grins around Eames’s finger.
***End***