Romance Fan Fiction ❯ Inception Fiction - Wake Me From This Dream ❯ Chapter 1

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: theablackthorn
Title: Wake Me from This Dream
Author: TheaBlackthorn
Series: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Note: Inspired by Kiyala Hug post on LJ. My first Inception fic hope it's okay.

Miscellaneous: Romance Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.10.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 234 | Status: Completed

Inception Drabble: Wake Me from This Dream
Author: TheaBlackthorn
Series: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Note: Inspired by Kiyala's Hug post.
Arthur stood at the edge of the long table at the back of the cold warehouse, his back to the door as he analysed Ariadne's new maze. He considered the various levels and the overall construct of the design seeing good development in technique and imagination. Arthur was proud of Ariadne, though Cob had found her he had trained her and she had accomplished a lot since there first job together. Arthur started running through the job they were about to begin, the maze only a piece of the overall plan, it was his job as point man to know as much as possible about what they were heading into and seeing all the variables. He didn't hear the door creak open behind him.
Arthur shivered when warmth pressed along his back and arm's curled around his body, heat and familiar contour's pressed firmly from ass to nape. He blinked slowly, looking down at the hand's that had folded across his stomach, the heat of them seeping through the cloth of waistcoat and shirt. He knew who it was even before he'd seen those familiar hand's that were always warm and delightfully calloused but wasn't sure how he had managed to get the jump on him.
Arthur turned his head slowly a slight furrow dipping his brow and a question in his voice when he spoke, “Eames?”
Arthur wasn't sure why Eames was here so late or why he had curled his body against him as though they hadn't spent the night twined together in sweat soaked sheet's, listening to eachother's breathy moans and indulging there need for touch after long month's apart.
Eames didn't reply, just tightened his arm's to an almost suffocating degree, the tip of his cold nose pressing into Arthur's throat and making him shiver even as he struggled for a full breath.
Arthur's frown deepened, he'd never seen Eame's like this, the man was surprisingly generous with his time and affection - often wanting nothing more than to see Arthur's pleasure to completion. But, right now, Eames was focused on taking, touching, squeezing just feeling all of him and he couldn't say he minded - it was nice to have Eames demanding for once. But Arthur knew there was something wrong, Eames wasn't being his normal flirtatious self, he was strangely quiet and Arthur didn't like that at all. The man kept a sultry and seductive running commentary every time they had sex and it never failed to turn Arthur.
Eames had a deliciously dirty mouth and Arthur loved it.
Arthur tried to turn in Eames hold but couldn't. Eame's arm's tensed around him, well-honed muscles keeping Arthur in place even as he enjoyed the weight of Eames strength being brought to bear. Arthur could picture the tattoos that he knew and had traced with lips and tongue bunching and flexing beneath Eames shirt.
Arthur was growing increasingly agitated by Eame's silence, even as he was becoming aroused by the touch of possessive strength holding him in place. He turned his head so he could eye Eame's from the corner of his left eye, getting an eyeful of soft sandy blond hair that was tussled like hands had been carding through it or maybe he'd been asleep? Had Eame's come back from their hotel room to see him?
From what Arthur could see of Eame's - sandy hair rumpled, hand's clasped tightly around him and the button's on his shirt cuff's undone - it was clear he'd come out from the hotel in a rush and that heightened Arthur's concern. Arthur sighed softly, feeling warm breath ghost across the skin of his throat as Eames shifted, practically moulding himself to Arthur's back and restricting his breathing.
“Mr Eames.” Arthur's tried for cool demanding tone but the lack of oxygen added a slightly breathy quality to it.
Arthur felt Eames shifting slightly behind him like he was resettling his feet, his grip loosened from the almost smothering tightness around his torso and Arthur breathed in a few deep breaths. The warm caresses of Eames breath on his throat shifted upwards, tickling his ear as Eames spoke softly, voice sleep roughened, “Hush darling, just let me hold you for a bit, ye.”
Concern was a heavy weight settling around Arthur's heart like a cloak and he shifted, pushing Eame's arm's away from him so he could turn, pulling a disgruntled grumble from Eames. Arthur turned to face Eames, his ass just brushing against the table as he turned because Eames was pressed up close and personal. He looked into soft grey-blue eyes and noted that they looked tired and slightly bloodshot - Eame's normally smiling lips were pressed into a flat line, his brow pinched.
Arthur reached out cupping Eame's cheek, running a thumb gently along lightly stubbled skin. He didn't say anything, waiting quietly as warm hand's closed over his hips as though Eames couldn't stop himself from touching him.
“I just...” Arthur could see the frustration dance across Eame's face before he was pulled bodily against the man, breath catching as he was clutched tightly to a broad chest. Arthur felt warmth curl in his gut as hand's pulled him close. Eame's lips pressed to the skin of Arthur's throat just above his starched shirt collar. Arthur shuddered, eyes rolling closed for a few moments.
Arthur licked his lip's as that warm press of skin peeled away, breath goose pimpling the slightly damp flesh and he let out a breathy, “Eames?” His name was a question rolling off of Arthur's tongue, one that was laced with curiosity, concern and a little breathless with burgeoning arousal.
“I just need you darling.”
Arthur frowned, lip's going thin and he tried to pull back once more to look into Eame's face, but those Eame's arms had a grip like iron. Arthur huffed softly, “Eames, would you care to explain?”
Eame's chuckled dryly and the puffs of warm breath tickled Arthur's skin. “Not really pet, but knowing you as I do...,” Eames squeezed Arthur impossibly tighter, rubbing their groins together in inference and Arthur tutted, eyes rolling even as his body responded to the press and roll of Eame's body against his own.
“I had a bad dream is all.” Arthur felt Eame's body tremble slightly and he pressed himself closer to the man, hands slipping up Eame's chest to rub soothingly against the muscles of his pectorals.
“A bad dream?” Arthur queried. Eames never spoke of his dreams but Arthur had witnessed some of the fallout of them before. He'd once woken to Eame's thrashing wildly in his sleep, after he'd managed to wake him Eame's had refused to speak of it - though his face had been pale and drawn.
“Aye, nothing else.” Eames agreed, voice still gravelly but sounding more at ease than before.
Arthur sighed, knowing Eames wouldn't discuss it no matter how much he pushed or threatened to withhold sex from him. So instead Arthur ran his hands up from the firm swell of Eame's pectorals, over collarbone and around to circle the nape of his neck, long finger's stroking up into slightly sweaty blond hair. He pressed his cheek to Eame's hair, cradling the man against his throat as he murmured softly, “Idiot.”
Eames chuckled lightly, the sound finally getting warmer and more relaxed, “Only for you darling.”