loadedparadox | (no subject)

(no subject)

What: Military manuevers
When: After this.
Who: Arthur and Eames

Arthur took his time, leaving Eames to wait for him. Slipping off his shoes and socks, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he went into the other room and got the PASIV.

Slipping into the bedroom, he didn't look at Eames as he moved to the bed, setting it down on the foot of the bed.

"Get comfortable, Soldier."

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"I need you to fuck me," he admits in a rush, dick twitching in Arthur's grip, "Own me. I need you to own me."

Slicking his hand over his cock and then pushing, hard, guiding himself into that sweet, perfect, willing body. "Do you doubt it," he snarled. "Doubt at all that I own you?"

"No," he moans a little louder than he should, body giving in easily to him, clenching around him, "No, of course not."

Arthur bucked his hips and then went still. "Quiet, Soldier," he whispered, kissing the back of his lover's neck as his fingers brushed over Eames' stomach, teasing lower.

"Yes sir," he murmurs quietly, trying to suck in deep, ragged breaths as he settles, feels Arthur inside him and can't quite get over how good that feels.

Wrapping his fingers around Eames' cock, Arthur drew back. He took his time, slow and teasing before driving into him, hard. "Mine." He growled the word, eyes narrowing. "Never forget that. You belong to me."

The force which Arthur excudes when he's thrusting into Eames is enough to make his eyes close in lust, screw them up tight as well as clamp his jaw down so he can't whine or shout out, alert the projections. Instead he just nods, sticky, clammy fingers flexing against the hard wall.

It was that pace that Arthur kept, fingers of one hand gripping Eames' hip, bruisingly tight, and the other holding around him, letting the force of his thrusts drive that thickness against the slick, tight hold of his hand. His teeth catch the back of his lover's neck, grinding slightly.

Gasping for air, Eames can feel the scrape of brick under his palm, cock tenting at the front of his low hanging trousers as Arthur pounds into him. Music filters up from below, masking the sound of skin on skin.

Still stroking Eames' cock, Arthur released that hold of his teeth and his other hand caught his jaw, turning his head slightly. "Don't you dare come until I tell you too," he managed to pant, words rough and low as he tried not to slow even as he worked to meet Eames' gaze. "You get close and you tell me," he managed, nipping lightly at the side of his jaw.

Meeting his gaze with a grunt of sound, Eames nods, slow and with his mouth parted. "Yes, Sir."

Arching around, tucking Eames' head back softly, he kissed him. Slow. Deep. So many emotions in that kiss he shouldn't be showing. Not in that moment, not in their act of soldiers stealing a moment. He couldn't help himself though. Not with the beauty of that perfect mouth so close.

He stutters out a soft little sound at that, a moan of some feeling he can't quite contain when he's around Arthur. He doesn't care that this isn't in the script, because down underneath it all, it's simply the man that he wants.

Barely breaking the kiss, his movements, that bucking of his hips, changed as he panted against that full mouth. "Too tempting. Damn you," he whispered, suckling at Eames' lower lip as both arms wrapped around him, hauling him close.

"I can't help it," he mutters back, pressing his words into Arthur's soft mouth, pressing back into his warmth and heat.

He pushed Eames forward, over the railing a bit, wanting to be able to take him harder, deeper. Moments like this, the environment and the uniforms and all that came with it left him panting and aching, barely able to think, let alone breathe as he took his lover, both hands gripping narrow hips.

"Please," he murmurs out, words rough and full of heat as he leans forward, railing pushing into his stomach but he doesn't care. His dog tags fall from his shirt, clink against the metal and he quashes a hum, "Sir."

"That's... a good... soldier..." Crying out the words, low and needful, his voice caught up in the lust of their motions, the need coursing between them. "Fuck. Close. God." He reached around again, stroking him as hard and fast as he could. "I'm not getting off before you. Understood, Soldier."

Eames groans low in his throat, hips pushing forward into that grip, into the warmth of Arthur's fingers and his words.

"Y-es, Sir," his reply comes hitched out, gasped along with his breathing, "Any - fuck - anything you say."

It doesn't take long, not with Arthur commanding it, the way they're coupled and the pure frisson of chemistry between them. Eames has to turn his face into his shoulder, mask the keening sound he makes as he comes in thick bursts.

It was intoxicating, the pressure and pulse of Eames' body through his release. Fingers digging in, holding tight as Arthur fought for what felt like his sanity.

"Remember that," he growled. "Anything." And with that he slammed deep, snarling as his teeth once more found the back of Eames' neck, holding tight through his release.

There's something very primal about this scenario, about the way Arthur fucks into him with hard, deep thrusts, claiming him with the teeth against his neck. Eames can't help but make soft, quiet noises as he brings himself down, feels Arthur pulse inside him and spill out.

Still holding the back of his neck, calming as he shuddered against his lover. Eyes closed, tasting the salt of sweat and the sweet intoxication of Eames' body in his arms, leaving him breathless.

It takes him a moment to come back to earth, skin shivering under Arthur's touch, eyes screwed shut for a moment.

"Mm," he breathes out, leaning into Arthur briefly, as though he's not sure whether or not they're still in these roles.

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Heh. That icon seems about right.

ahaha, only better dressed

So there's this thing. Work. it sucks.

I feel you, I want to quit and become a magician

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