Title: Stress Relief
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Word Count: 712
Warning: No beta, sexytimes
Summary: Arthur and Eames have a bit of fun in a soaking city.
Eames does his best not to glare out at the rain soaked not-actually Los Angeles.
A week in the rain because Yusuf failed to take a piss. Isn’t it wonderful?
A week constantly wearing a forge because while they finished the job in less than a day in Level One time, he’s constantly on the clock, babysitting Fischer. Making sure the arse doesn’t lose the plot or suddenly change his mind while he dreams over his future plans. Over and over and over again.
‘Here we go again,’ He thinks with as much humor as he can manage when a knock sounds at the door. He pushes away from his view with a glance at the mirror, double checking his game face.
He opens the door and almost laughs outright.
It’s not Fischer like he expected. It’s a man, shorter and younger than Fischer, wearing a bright red jacket and matching ball cap. He’s holding a pair of pizza boxes and smacking bubblegum with a smile. It’s just so ridiculous. How would a pizza boy get so far up into an ultra-exclusive business high rise like this? Eames checks the reflection on the shiny metal door he’s holding open and Arthur smirks back at him, winking cheekily.
He grabs Arthur by the arm and pulls him in. “What are you doing here?”
Arthur drops his half ass little forge and blinks up at him, completely unimpressed, before calmly reaching behind him and locking the office door. “I thought you could use some stress relief.”
“You were bored.” Eames accuses his sometimes lover.
Arthur shrugs and moves further into the room, already removing the tie portion of his actual attire. He doesn’t deny the accusation which in Arthur speak is the same as confirmation.
“My what a big desk you have,” Arthur asks, with a coquettish glance over one shoulder.
“Am I supposed to say ‘the better to fuck you on’?”
“You could say it, or you could just do it. Drop the forge.”
Completely uninclined to argue, Eames does but he takes it a bit further. Rather than the suit Yusuf put him in or the paisley thing from Arthur’s interpretation of him, he does full classic black suit with black tie. Just enough stubble to mark Arthur properly and keep things interesting.
Arthur bites his bottom lip but he doesn’t say anything. They’ve played this game several times and it’s Eames’s turn to make a demand.
“Hands on the windows.”
Arthur nods once and he too takes it one further, striping to the waist as he goes.
Eames swallows hard as Arthur gets into position, arching his back just so so that his ass is properly presented.
“Pull your cock out but keep your clothes on.”
Again, in the spirit of going one further, he loosens his tie and a few buttons because choking is not his thing and this? This is going to be.. Enthusiastic.
Eames runs his hands over Arthur’s shoulders, down his back, and cups his hips. He leans in, spooning close so that Arthur can feel the bulk of him, so that they can appreciate the heat and weight of each other. Then he slides his hands down, ghosting along Arthur’s belt to his flies. He undoes everything, leaving Arthur bared and basically hobbled by his own clothing wrapped around his ankles.
Only then does he pull his cock out. He rubs it under Arthur’s ass, down between his legs and teasing his balls as his fingers explore his cleft.
Arthur is plugged and lubed because of course he is. It’s a cute little plug, though. With a bright, shiny silver knob engraved with the initials of the name Eames was born to. He rolls his eyes as he pulls it out.
Arthur’s smirking at him in the reflection in the window.
He smacks the thigh under his right hand giving his lover a mean little smirk of how own as he prepares himself. The last demand in their little game is his and it’s a demand Arthur needs. It’s too bad really but it’s going to be a long, hard ride for his lover before he gets it.
Not that he knows that yet, Eames thinks meanly as he pushes himself inside.
(Arthur definitely already knows.)
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