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 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.

Unlucky for you that I'm not one of them.

[Arthur's dumb face gets a quick kiss though.]

[Arthur keeps smiling, bringing a hand up to Eames' neck.]

I love you anyway.

Good.

[Eames grins and plants another quick kiss against Arthur's lips before he lays his head back down.]

I love you too. Shitty beard and all.

[Now it's time to sleep.]

[Arthur shifts just to get a little more comfortable and then he sighs as he settles in for sleep.]

Goodnight Eames.

[Eames mumbles something vaguely similar and cuddles in good and tight and he is absolutely not going to let up on that grip at any point during the night so Arthur better not need to get up to use the bathroom.]

[Arthur settles in for sleep and mercifully does not need to get up at any point in the night. When he wakes up, Eames' familiar weight gives him a moment's pause, and then he smiles and noses at Eames' hair, totally content to stay here for the time being.]

[Eames comes to slowly, a contented sigh on his lips at Arthur's shoulder under his head. He shifts a little to cuddle in at Arthur's side and rests a hand on his chest, otherwise not moving at all.]

Morning, handsome.

[His voice is a mumble into Eames' hair as he drags his fingers idly over Eames' skin.]

Edited 2017-12-04 02:13 (UTC)

[Oh, handsome. Eames smiles widely, so ridiculously happy, and moves his hand to Arthur's hip with a soft hum, trailing circles with his thumb.]

Morning.

[Arthur knew he'd like that.]

You made a mess last night.

You want me to clean it up?

[He has mixed feelings on what he wants Arthur's response to be, but either way he nuzzles into his neck a little. It'd be totally sweet and innocent if not for his fingers tracing over the inner curve of Arthur's hip down to his crotch, idly stroking through the hair there in a touch that's almost tender and affectionate rather than Up To Something.]

I want you to keep doing whatever you're doing.

[He lifts his hand to comb his fingers through Eames' hair, clsoing his eyes again and adjusting his hips under Eames' touch.]

[Eames hums softly and turns his head to lazily kiss Arthur's neck, hand moving slow over Arthur's skin until he finds his dick and takes it in his hand with a pleased sigh.]

[Arthur tilts his head away to give Eames room, letting out a sigh that might hint at the way his stomach twists at Eames' hand.]

[Eames grins, spending some time on both of these, kissing Arthur's neck and stroking him firm and slow. He is definitely going to be leaving a mark on his neck, but who cares.]

[A soft moan escapes Arthur's mouth on the edge of a sigh as he feels his dick responding even quicker than it usually might. He's always been a little more sensitive in the mornings and while last night left him satisfied it also reminded him what it's like to have sex with Eames.]

[It's really good.]

[Eames gives another pleased hum in response, moving his hand until Arthur's mostly hard in his grip and then starts moving down Arthur's body. He's slow the whole way, kissing down Arthur's neck to his collarbone to his chest, savouring the taste and feel of him all the way down until he meets that dick head-on.]

[He wraps his hand around it again, pressing his lips to the base of it in the kind of affectionate gesture most people don't genuinely give to genitals.]

Oh, I have missed you.

[Arthur watches all of this happen and then lets out an impatient sigh. Why does Eames always have to go and make it weird.]

[Is it weird for a man to love a dick so honestly? So genuinely?]

[Eames certainly doesn't think so, or doesn't care at the very least, but that's all the conversation he needs anyway. He looks briefly up at Arthur, but his eyes fall shut as he licks a stripe up the bottom of it, pressing a kiss to the tip and generally lavishing it with the kind of attention that suggests it's as much for himself as Arthur. Maybe moreso.]

[Arthur's hips immediately tilt towards Eames and his head falls back as he lets out another soft groan. He really didn't foresee any sex happening when he woke up a few minutes ago but this is really nice.]

[There's a little bit more teasing, licks and kisses and Eames practically indulging himself in every last bit of Arthur's cock before he finally takes him into his mouth with a long, drawn out moan. Maybe it is weird to love a dick this much, but Eames can't help that he thinks it's beautiful, that the taste of him is one he'll never get sick of.]

[He knows Arthur's always a little quicker to finish this soon after waking, but Eames intends to take his time until they get there, something obvious in the way he moves his head and presses a hand down on Arthur's hip to stop him getting any ideas.]

[Arthur already feels like he's right on the edge, arching and moaning as he balls his fists in the sheets beside his head. He's trying to relax and let every sensation wash over him but he can help the way his hands flex or the way his legs fall apart to make more room. Eames has always been really good with his mouth, and Arthur loves every moment.]

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