ruffians | baby come back

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baby come back

[It's been some time since Eames has made the trip to Arthur's place, he's forgotten how long the walk from the station is. He kind of regrets not getting a cab or at least waiting for a bus because it is pissing it down with rain and Eames doesn't typically feel the cold that much, but he's soaked to the bone and his clothes are sticking to him and the wind cuts through him something awful. His hair is plastered to his forehead and he's pretty sure these shoes are ruined, to the point he doesn't even think about walking through puddles because it's not like his feet can get any more cold and wet at this point.]

[It's awful. He feels awful. He's cold and soaked and he can't feel his fingers and he just feels so guilty that it's almost scary. It's not like Eames has never been rude or said something uncalled for, but sometimes Eames is cruel and he's never been like that toward Arthur before. At first because he never cared enough, and then because he cared too much, and it's easy to forget how fucking easy it is for him. How he can target what upsets someone so easily and just twist it like a knife, make it into a weapon because he's angry and someone else is a convenient target to take it out on.]

[The worst part, maybe, is that Arthur was trying to help. He was just trying to be helpful and there's a million ways Eames could've told him he couldn't without being an asshole about it, but instead he pushed and he pushed and Arthur left and god he hates it. He's so fucking mad at himself. Spent days alone in the house waiting like it was just gonna blow over and Arthur would just come home as if it was some dumb little spat he needed an hour to cool off from.]

[Arthur's not gone forever, he's relatively sure. At some point he'd come home and be the bigger man about it, but wouldn't that just be another insult on top of everything? To make Arthur be the one to make the peace when Eames is the one who fucked things up to begin with? So here he is, sodden and freezing and miserable, knocking on Arthur's door like he basically never did before.]

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[Arthur's breath catches in his throat and he swallows, staring up at Eames like he's too overwhelmed to think right now.]

[Good, that's perfect. Eames smirks down at him in response before he leans down for a quick, messy kiss. Arthur said he wanted it hard and fast, so that's what he's gonna do, lifting and rocking his hips first to see just how comfortably and how much he can move in this position. Usually Eames would sit up for that, but he can do it like this too.]

[Grunting and groaning, Arthur digs his heels into the bed and arches a little. Eames has barely gotten started and Arthur already feels so needy, so vulnerable in this position.]

[Eames makes a pleased noise, nosing at Arthur's cheek and along his jaw, presses another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before he lifts his head just enough to look at the whole of his face.]

You're so, so beautiful like this.

[His voice comes out a little laboured as he starts moving in earnest, fucking back onto Arthur hard as he can manage like this.]

[The sound Arthur makes borders on a whine.]

It feels so fucking good.

[He's struggling not to turn his head and press his face into the pillow.]

So do you.

[He's definitely going to be feeling this in the morning, but right now it feels so good and Eames is pretty sure his opinion is only a little coloured by his emotions.]

[His fingers dig in a little harsh around Arthur's wrists before Eames catches himself; it's a fine line to be walking when he's this overwhelmed by how good Arthur feels inside him and how beautiful he is under him. Eames leans down to nip at Arthur's bottom lip and kiss him properly.]

[Eames isn't the only one who's going to be feeling this tomorrow. Arthur can already feel exactly where the bruises on his wrists are going to be but the feeling of Eames' weight on him is so arousing and Arthur moans into Eames' mouth as he kisses him.]

[He mumbles something breathlessly into Arthur's mouth about how amazing he feels, kissing him messily and just as hard as the rest of him is moving right now. It sends a shiver up his spine, thinking about how good it's going to feel when Arthur comes in him, but they need to get there first.]

[Arthur groans and tries to keep up with Eames as he kisses him back. He can't move his hips fast enough to keep up with him but he rocks his hips and he pulls at his hands like he's testing Eames' strength.]

[Eames' hands don't budge, they never do, and he responds with another nip at Arthur's lips. Even with his mouth occupied like this, he's pretty sure he could keep Arthur's neighbours up with the amount of noise he's making. Moaning loud and desperate and cursing whenever that friction hits him just perfectly.]

[Arthur's head tilts back as he lets out a few more desperate noises. He can feel his orgasm starting to build and he probably manages a few words to warn Eames somethig along those lines.]

[He doesn't follow Arthur when he tilts his head, instead moving to kiss his neck and nose along his jaw near his ear to murmur encouragements and fragmented comments about how bad he wants it and how good it's going to feel.]

[Arthur's moans come out strangled and desperate as he arches his back, pulling againt Eames' hands despite never wanting him to let go. When he finally comes he feels his hips twitch uncontrollably beneath Eames and the release feels so good that he can't help but be a bit loud.]

[Eames curses softly, kissing Arthur's neck and rocking his hips down against Arthur through his orgasm, groans coming out long and satisfied as he feels Arthur come inside him like it's something he's needed for a long time. He has the fleeting thought that it's a shame he won't be able to stay full like this all night, but it passes quickly enough. He has other things on his mind.]

[Namely the fact that as good as this feels, it's not a great angle for his own orgasm, especially not being touched at all. He waits a moment or two, contemplating sitting up, but instead lets go of one of Arthur's wrists so he can reach down and start jerking himself off. It almost certainly won't take long, and his voice picks up in urgency and desperation as he feels himself getting there.]

[Arthur moans a little helplessly, clumsily picking up his hand to touch Eames' face as Eames rocks on his still-hard cock. He curses softly and tells Eames he's beautiful, encouraging him on.]

[Eames breath catches when Arthur speaks and he turns his head to try and press his lips to Arthur's palm, suck his thumb into his mouth, anything. He wants to tell Arthur the same, that he's beautiful and marvellous and more and it's on the tip of his tongue, but what comes out when he opens his mouth sounds a little more like a sob as he feels a shiver roll up his spine and his back arches.]

[When he actually comes, it's quick and it's loud and it's, well. It's more of a mess than it usually is, and Eames' whole body relaxes and slouches afterward while he stays where he is, breathless.]

[Arthur's too exhausted to do much other than nose at the closest part of Eames' face, looking for a kiss but much too worn out to actually execute. He feels almost vulnerable and helpless right now, but in a way that makes him glad Eames is here in the end. He's never needed to be so open with someone as he needs to be with Eames and it's been hard to even consider a life where he can't do that over these past few days.]

[Eames shudders with the aftershocks of it, letting go of Arthur's other wrist so he can put his elbows down and kiss Arthur softly. Right now all he wants is Arthur's arms around him, like she's forgotten how it feels to be loved. Everything in him crying out for a need to be kissed and held until they fall asleep.]

[Arthur's wrists feel sore but he wraps his arms around Eames and puts his hands flat on his back, dragging his palms across warm skin and savouring every second. He feels very much the same way; he needs to be close right now in every way imaginable.]

[Eames relaxes, a tension he wasn't even aware of melting away at the feel of Arthur's hands on his back. He sinks against Arthur until he's laying on top of him, making a weak noise of complaint because laying on jizz is a weird and uncomfortable feeling and that's one thing he hasn't missed, but it's always a worthy sacrifice to lay with Arthur.]

I love you.

[He murmurs it while nosing at Arthur's face, voice a little hoarse and breathless.]

[Arthur isn't much of a fan of the feeling of it being squished and smeared across his stomach, but he will bear the discomfort for Eames as always.]

I love you too.

And I missed you. I always miss you, it's like--

[He sighs, shifting his hips a little to pull off Arthur so he can cuddle up properly, tucking his head at the crook of Arthur's neck, nosing at his pulse point.]

You're not the first person I've been in love with, but with you it's like I'm addicted.

[He breathes a tired laugh, less amused and more uncomfortable. It's not the first time he's used that word with Arthur, it's certainly the word he favoured when things between them were mostly just the sex, but it has more weight to it now.]

Whenever I'm away from you longer than a couple of days, it's horrible. It's like there's a part of me missing-- something I need but I can't have.

[Arthur feels his chest tighten and his heartrate rises a tick. He take a small breath and turns his head to nose at Eames' hair.]

It's the same for me.

[His voice is a little thick, and it's not just from exhaustion.]

My life is so much... brighter with you in it. I don't even remember if I ever enjoyed anything as much as I do now. It's...

[He lets out a hesitant laugh.]

It's kind of terrifying.

I don't know that I like knowing you have that effect on me.

[He sighs softly, for as negative as the words might sound, Eames' tone is relatively positive. Happy, even. It's a sentiment he assumes Arthur shares, not liking the idea that there's somebody who can make such a difference to what you think and feel. It's terrifying and frustrating all at once, that idea of not being in complete control. Of handing some of that control over to someone else. It's not Eames' favourite feeling, that's for sure.]

But I'm happy with you. Moreso than I've been in a long time.

[Eames lifts his head with a bit of a wry smile, a hand coming up to brush his knuckles along Arthur's jaw.]

Even when you don't shave and that godawful beard grows in and I think, "why has he done this to me?"

[Arthur smiles serenely back up at Eames, eyes heavy with sleep.]

Some people like my beard.

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