[ Eames diverts at first, using a query as a response. It's a tactic he's grown used to over the years, and something he can read between the lines on, even with being practically folded in half, the other man leaning his weight in on every motion. Amid white-hot haze of lust, he feels his heart skip a beat, a pleasant kind of flutter that isn't related to the way Eames presses into him. ]
And I do? [ A reason they're well matched, for both good and ill. All their rough corners had rubbed in the beginning because they shared this quality. Now it's less argument–more of one pushing the other and keeping stride.
His response slides off his tongue as Eames pulls his hips back, the tip of his cock a tease where it remains inside, and then slides in with a quick motion, filling him up, dragging right over his prostate. Arthur stutters out a moan, the air shoved out of his lungs, pushing into the thrust to revel in the friction.
Blinking the sparks from his eyes, he cups Eames' jaw in his palm, tipping a beaming smile at him. ] Come meet my family first. And ask me again later, when you're not balls deep.
( He has to bury his face in Arthur's shoulder at that, cheeks too hot and whatever else is written on his skin better hidden. There's a rumble of sound either way, what passes as acquiescence. He'll ask. He'll meet the family, and as long as he doesn't cock it up monstrously then he'll ask. Or he'll ask either way. Because there's been a truth building between them for years. He thinks it just took them so long to see it because it was so blatantly there. There will be no one else for him now. There couldn't be.
But he's a little busy right now. He has things to attend to. Arthur is so sweet beneath him and Eames will not let the wild horse gallop of his heart ruin that. So he kisses the space where shoulder meets neck and then drags his teeth along pale skin, leaning back up so he can look him in the eye. )
I think I'd like to make you come now, love.
( Blithe, a little cheeky, his eyes a little wet but that's fine. He shifts until they're close, until he has his knees just right, thrusts hitting the spot that makes Arthur gasp and squirm, one hand skating up a thigh and over his belly, trailing near his cock. )
Unless you have any objections?
( Fingers wrapping around him, smile turning playful as he strokes him. ) Speak up now.
[ With Eames leaning into him, there's a delightful, complicated spark. His weight is just enough to make him feel enclosed, his mind quieting with the sensation. Under that is still a potent burn of desire, skittering along all his nerve endings from how closely they're pressed together. Bone-deep, though, there's a similar swell of emotion as Eames hum his acknowledgement, too overwhelmed for words. Arthur's smile softens as he tilts his cheek to Eames' hair, a hand affectionately petting down his neck and back.
His palm cups his shoulder as the forger sits back up, wanting to keep as much contact as possible. If Eames' gaze is a little watery—well, he isn't going to say anything. ]
Why would I—[ His words cut off with a hitch of breath, followed by a pornographic moan as Eames drives his cock in, hitting his prostate on every slide in. Whatever desire had lowered to a simmer in their interlude is ratcheted back up with dizzying precision, enough that he can't stop the overstimulated whine that escapes when a hand closes around his dick. ]
Fuck, just like that, you—[ He gasps, thighs and hole squeezing around Eames during a particularly hard thrust. ]—I don't need your hand.
[ Not that he's complaining, really, but he likes the thought of being able to come without the external help. That he can get release with just the internal stimulation and the frantic need thrumming in his pulse. ]
( There's a dark little rumble in his voice, a warm thrum of desire. He strokes Arthur once more, root to tip and then his hand falls away back to his hips, holding him there and still so he can only take Eames' cock. Skin slippery to the touch, Eames thick fingers flex and then resettle into marks that will linger still tomorrow. He snaps his hips sharply, burying himself deep enough to elicit a moan, his breath catching on the sound. )
Fuck, Arthur.
( It's the heat, he thinks. Arthur is so warm, so tight. He's sinful to the touch and pretty enough that Eames could cry from it if he weren't busy. Splayed across the sheets like a dream, pink and glistening. Eames loves him. )
Come for me, sweetheart. ( The steady tempo of their bodies making the words peak and dip like a song. He'll do this for however long it takes, enjoys the ache in his spine and the burn in his gut and Arthur, always Arthur. ) Come for me, Arthur. I really want you to.
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HEEHEE :"3c it wouldve been sooner but...the holidays...sure happened
Date: 2026-02-12 04:47 pm (UTC)And I do? [ A reason they're well matched, for both good and ill. All their rough corners had rubbed in the beginning because they shared this quality. Now it's less argument–more of one pushing the other and keeping stride.
His response slides off his tongue as Eames pulls his hips back, the tip of his cock a tease where it remains inside, and then slides in with a quick motion, filling him up, dragging right over his prostate. Arthur stutters out a moan, the air shoved out of his lungs, pushing into the thrust to revel in the friction.
Blinking the sparks from his eyes, he cups Eames' jaw in his palm, tipping a beaming smile at him. ] Come meet my family first. And ask me again later, when you're not balls deep.
[ Does he sound a little emotional? Maybe. ]
oh no /holds ur hands
Date: 2026-02-13 03:39 pm (UTC)But he's a little busy right now. He has things to attend to. Arthur is so sweet beneath him and Eames will not let the wild horse gallop of his heart ruin that. So he kisses the space where shoulder meets neck and then drags his teeth along pale skin, leaning back up so he can look him in the eye. )
I think I'd like to make you come now, love.
( Blithe, a little cheeky, his eyes a little wet but that's fine. He shifts until they're close, until he has his knees just right, thrusts hitting the spot that makes Arthur gasp and squirm, one hand skating up a thigh and over his belly, trailing near his cock. )
Unless you have any objections?
( Fingers wrapping around him, smile turning playful as he strokes him. ) Speak up now.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-21 06:31 pm (UTC)His palm cups his shoulder as the forger sits back up, wanting to keep as much contact as possible. If Eames' gaze is a little watery—well, he isn't going to say anything. ]
Why would I—[ His words cut off with a hitch of breath, followed by a pornographic moan as Eames drives his cock in, hitting his prostate on every slide in. Whatever desire had lowered to a simmer in their interlude is ratcheted back up with dizzying precision, enough that he can't stop the overstimulated whine that escapes when a hand closes around his dick. ]
Fuck, just like that, you—[ He gasps, thighs and hole squeezing around Eames during a particularly hard thrust. ]—I don't need your hand.
[ Not that he's complaining, really, but he likes the thought of being able to come without the external help. That he can get release with just the internal stimulation and the frantic need thrumming in his pulse. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-22 02:38 pm (UTC)( There's a dark little rumble in his voice, a warm thrum of desire. He strokes Arthur once more, root to tip and then his hand falls away back to his hips, holding him there and still so he can only take Eames' cock. Skin slippery to the touch, Eames thick fingers flex and then resettle into marks that will linger still tomorrow. He snaps his hips sharply, burying himself deep enough to elicit a moan, his breath catching on the sound. )
Fuck, Arthur.
( It's the heat, he thinks. Arthur is so warm, so tight. He's sinful to the touch and pretty enough that Eames could cry from it if he weren't busy. Splayed across the sheets like a dream, pink and glistening. Eames loves him. )
Come for me, sweetheart. ( The steady tempo of their bodies making the words peak and dip like a song. He'll do this for however long it takes, enjoys the ache in his spine and the burn in his gut and Arthur, always Arthur. ) Come for me, Arthur. I really want you to.