ruffians | maybe we show some mercy

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maybe we show some mercy

[Usually, facing your fears means discovering they're not as bad as they seemed in your head. That your mind catastrophises and exaggerates and the reality is nowhere near what it seemed. Eames certainly wishes that were the case here, but it turns out the reality is far worse than anything that crossed his mind. He'd long since come to terms with the idea that getting caught meant death, but the captain of this discreet little crew made a point of talking about "re-education" with such conviction that it seems like a very real possibility. A real possibility that terrifies Eames in ways he didn't even know he could feel.]

[It's hard not to be mad at himself, and in fact he is. He's fucking furious. Years of being meticulous about hiding from the Empire rendered obsolete because some asshole wanted to make some quick money and Eames hadn't spotted the signs even though that's exactly the kind of thing he's supposed to be good at. And now here he is, bound in a cell on a ship, no idea how long he's been here or where they are — no idea about much of anything outside this room, actually — pumped full of power inhibitors to make doubly sure he can't escape.]

[Fucking hell but it hurts. Hands cuffed behind his back, made to stay on his knees for... A long time. Simultaneously can't feel his legs and yet the muscles burn and ache. All of him a mess of cuts and bruises, a mix of injuries from fighting back and some from cruelty passed off as discipline. He thinks his nose might be broken and one of his eyes is swollen into a semi-permanant squint. The longer he kneels here, the more Eames thinks the inhibitor injections were less about preventing escape and more about making sure he couldn't heal away the beatings; making sure he'd suffer through every moment of the trip "home."]

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Good.

[He tugs at Arthur's wrist to get him to pull his fingers out, and steps closer to line himself up. Absolutely not planning to be gentle or take his time; it's not like Arthur needs it. The second he's clear to do so, he grips Arthur's hip tighter and presses right into him at the pace he intends to move at, rocking his hips hard and fast straight away.]

[His first few moans come out as shouts when Eames starts; the pace startles him and he has to braces his legs and his free arm so that he doesn't just fall over. It's perfect and exactly what he wanted but he feels just a little unstable right now.]

[Eames takes Arthur's other hip to hold him, even if Arthur's legs went Eames could probably hold him up like this. (He'd probably also stop, but that's neither here nor there.) He maintains with seemingly little care for Arthur's balance, fully intending to fuck this orgasm out of him almost as if he's trying to see how fast he can do it.]

[Arthur lets out an endless litany of curses as he braces against the counter. He's been working himself up for a little while now so it's no surprise that his orgasm hits him fast and hard once Eames starts up like that. The satisfaction of release rushes through him almost as intensely as Eames' pace and he can't help but make enough noise to match. His legs and hips twitch as it starts and his moans come out like sobs but he makes no requests of Eames to either stop or to keep going - he can barely talk anyway if he wanted to.]

[Eames reins it in a little, but only a little, the only concession he plans to make to Arthur's state unless he asks for Eames to slow it up or stop. It won't take him long anyway, he's moaning and swearing enough for both of them and almost certainly going to leave bruises where he's holding on to Arthur.]

[Arthur keeps whimpering and moaning, just barely holding himself up as Eames keeps going. He has absolutely no complaints; he wants Eames to come and he'd say as much if he could speak.]

[It doesn't take long, he came in here wound up and moving at this pace he'd never hold out long anyway. After a few more minutes he's coming and swearing harder, holding Arthur where he wants him until he's sure he's done and finally stills to catch his breath, leaning forward over him to do it.]

[Arthur feels completely worn out and ready to lay down at this point but the feeling of Eames holding him like this, leaning over him as his come leaks down his thighs is something he's going to remember later. He never quite caught his breath so he tries to do it now, resting his head on his forearms as he waits for Eames to decide to move.]

[Eames stays there for a little bit, just until his legs don't feel quite so heavy, and then he pulls out and stands. He rests his palm on Arthur's back, thumb rubbing back and forth.]

Need a hand getting to bed?

[Arthur lets out a soft groan at the thought of moving.]

Yeah.

[Eames nods and gives it all of 30 seconds of consideration before he decides to just manhandle Arthur a bit and scoop him up in his arms to carry him to bed.]

[Arthur lets out a soft noise as he's picked up, but he doesn't fight it at all and instead just wraps his arms around Eames' neck.]

What a gentleman.

[He is very tired.]

Just for you.

[He noses at Arthur's hair a little as he walks and deposits him gently in bed once he's there.]

Mm, I feel so blessed.

[Arthur puts a hand on Eames' arm to indicate he wants to be cuddled with immediately.]

[Oh. Eames frowns and puts a hand over Arthur's.]

Give me two minutes to clean up the kitchen.

[Arthur almost protests and says they can do it later but he knows it should be done now, so he lets go and just relaxes against the bed with an unhappy hum.]

[Eames leans over to kiss Arthur quickly, and then gets up to go do that. It only takes the couple of minutes he said it would, and he comes back having decided to wipe some of the mess off his front while he was at it and tosses the towel aside when he enters their quarters.]

[Straihht away he gets in and presses himself to Arthur's back, kissing the back of his neck at he does.]

[Arthur hums again, amenably this time, and puts his hand on Eames' arm.]

I might have some trouble walking for a little while.

[Eames huffs a small laugh.]

How about I take care of anything you can't do from here?

[Arthur pats Eames' arm.]

Like I said, gentleman.

Anything for the man who saved my life.

[He pauses as if in thought for a moment and then adds:] And let me fuck him against the kitchen counter.

[Arthur hums, rubbing his hand back and forth for a moment before he picks up the discarded tablet.]

You know you can rewind this? I think it has a backlog of a hundred hours.

Well I know what I'm doing next time I'm on the ship alone.

[Well guess what Arthur's rewinding it right now. He drags his finger along the bar at the bottom of the screen and ends up smack dab in the middle of Eames fucking him. His eyebrows shoot up but he can't tear his eyes away from how good Eames looks even though he's far too exhausted to be aroused.]

Fuck, no wonder my ass is so sore.

[Eames laughs softly and lifts his head to look at the screen.]

Is that what I look like?

[Damn it's good.]

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