i've got this feeling i can't shake

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[This gathering isn't anything special, especially not by the "standards" Eames has been discovering over these last few years, but it is one of those things where the Lord of Autumn should make an appearance. A lot of fae and various other types celebrating some minor thing that Eames can't even remember. The drinks are good though, and there is the odd familiar face he actually enjoys the company of.]

[It's all just... Fine. Except for one thing, a fae who is absolutely stunning, unabashedly inhuman, somebody Eames would certainly love to take home were it a different time. But she's not interested in him by the looks of it anyway. During the latter half of the evening, he catches glimpses of her with Arthur, and he could brush off the flirting if it weren't for the way he could see it being reciprocated.]

[It becomes steadily harder to ignore, glances become hard stares with a clenched jaw for lingering moments, barely paying attention to whatever conversation he's found himself in. Entirely more interested in this display he's witnessing.]

Comments

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[It sounds like he's got Arthur how he wants him, almost anyway. He reaches for one of Arthur's wrists, careful but still forceful about it as he takes it firmly and holds it down by his head, slowing for just a moment so he can adjust his weight to do the same with the other, grip tight the way he knows Arthur likes.]

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[It all happens rather quick from Arthur's perspective. He realizes he's being pinned down as Eames' grip tightens around his first wrist, and by then he's already holding the other one as well. His breath catches and he looks over at one arm, at Eames' fist clenched around him, at his own fist that could never hope to escape no matter how much pulling and twisting he tried. He could say no of course. He has complete faith in Eames to stop and get off of him if he did, but dear god it's the absolute opposite that he really wants.]

[He looks at Eames, eyebrows drawn together into an offended expression, because he wasn't quite ready to turn into a whimpering, pleading mess just yet, and this is a surefire way to get him there really fucking quick.]

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[Eames smirks back at him, fully aware of the effect this'll have, and noses at his face.]

You're gorgeous.

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[He can't nail down precisely what it is about this that makes his voice waver, but it's unmistakable when he speaks. Between that and the soft panting that he can't help, any smart edge his reply might have under different circumstances is completely gone.]

I'm glad you think so.

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I know so.

[Eames hitches his hips a little harder, like a full stop on his statement.]

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[Arthur's body jerks with the force of Eames' hips, a whimper escaping from his throat that is quickly followed by an embarrassed whine as he turns his head into the pillow.]

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[Eames settles into a pace that's hard, but not fast, fucking Arthur with the pure intent to get more noise out of Arthur, murmuring in his ear how he's perfect and beautiful and his.]

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[Arthur's whimpers slip out with distressing regularity, still embarrassed by how easy it was for Eames to get him here despite knowing this is where they were headed since the beginning. He finds himself agreeing with Eames, wordless moans and 'yes'es when Eames tells him that he's his. He feels like it right now, like he's completely subject to Eames' whims—and it feels good. It doesn't take him long at all to get a bit louder and more urgent, stringing together a sentence that's part warning, part affirmation of how amazing Eames feels right now.]

I can come like this.

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Good.

[He presses kisses to the side of Arthur's face, down his neck.]

Come for me.

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[Arthur lets out a loud moan and tilts his head back, back arching right off the bed as he relaxes into the feeling of Eames inside him. His stomach shudders and his legs tremble and he shouts as he comes, begging Eames not to stop and telling him how good he feels.]

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[Eames groans, telling Arthur how incredible he feels as he fucks him through his orgasm. He slows down a little once he's done, not as if he's slowing to a stop, but enough that Arthur might be able to formulate a response.]

I think you've got another one of those in you.

[It's not a question, but he's not gonna try and force another orgasm out of Arthur if he definitely doesn't think he can come again. He's not that cruel.]

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[It's hard to think about the next orgasm when you're coming down from the first, but as Eames keeps going and he doesn't feel the oversensitivity of being totally spent, he's inclined to agree. Besides, he wants to feel Eames come inside him as well, and he'll hold on for that as long as he can take it.]

[As he starts to come down, to transition from aftershocks to pleasantly building back up to another one, he manages to get out a word or two:]

Yeah, I think you're right.

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[Eames murmurs another one of those soft compliments and picks back up to where he was before Arthur came. It's always harder to tell if a second one is going to be fast or take ages, but he thinks it won't take long. Either way he knows he can stick it out, but he just wants Arthur fully spent and exhausted by the end of this.]

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[Arthur's a bit more relaxed this time around, though the soft whimpers and moans certainly don't stop. He's less hesitant now to tell Eames how strong he is, how big his cock feels, and how he just wants to feel him come. Orgasms do wonders for lowering his inhibitions, as they've both long since discovered. He never used to talk this much, but with Eames it's easier and tends to pay off.]

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[Eames noses at Arthur's face, groaning in his ear as he thrusts and rocks his hips into Arthur. When Arthur starts sounding and feeling like he's getting there, that's when Eames gives himself permission to let go. Coming inside Arthur with short, sharp thrusts and low groans.]

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[If he weren't already there, that certainly pushes him over the edge. This one hits him even harder, shuddering and moaning under Eames, and when he's finally finished he can tell he's spent. He can't do a whole lot but try to catch his breath, humming as if to draw Eames' attention to the fact he needs his arms released and then he needs to be held. Like right away.]

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[Eames is a little slow to move, but he lets go of Arthur's wrists and leans down to press his forehead to Arthur's, breathing heavily and trying to muster the energy to move.]

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[Eames' grip was tight, and Arthur takes a moment to stretch and flex his fingers before he weakly brings his hands up to Eames' chest. It's all he can do for now, though he's eager for Eames to lay down with him so they can go to sleep.]

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[Eames takes a few moments and then carefully pulls out, pushing his pants off his hips so he can kick them off when he rolls onto his side and drapes an arm over Arthur.]

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[Arthur stretches out a little bit and hums happily as he runs his hand over Eames' arm. He turns his head to seek out some affection, grinning with post coital bliss.]

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[Eames grins and leans over to kiss him, much more gentle and affectionate than he was an hour ago.]

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Mm.

[Kissing is nice but he doesn't have the energy for it for long.]

'M going to sleep.

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[Eames smiles and nods, pulling himself in close and lifting a hand to comb through Arthur's hair affectionately.]

Sleep well.

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[It won't take long at all for Arthur to drift off to sleep with the workout he just went through. He'll sleep pretty soundly through the night while the bruises on his hips and wrists darken to purple.]

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[Eames stays cuddled up with Arthur, kissing him and playing with his hair while he falls asleep, full of affection for this man. But once the afterglow starts to fade he's less... Well. He's not as happy.]

[This has happened a few times now, and in the past Eames always chalked it up to being in a bad mood. Somebody got under his skin or something stupid happened and put him in a mood where some rough sex is very welcome. But tonight he was significantly aware of why. Aware enough to notice a pattern, to realise this is a part of himself that he didn't know about. Part of him wonders if he was like this with previous partners, if he was possessive and aggressive and brushed it off as bad moods. A bigger part of him sees the bruise starting to change colour on Arthur's wrist and, even though it's far from the first time, this time he can barely stand it.]

[He tries going to sleep, but he just can't. He just keeps thinking about tonight and what it says about him, how it means there's this aspect of himself he was never aware of and can't control, something that he hates. After some hours of ruminating, Eames gets out of bed and goes to get a drink. Then he elects to dig out Arthur's cigarettes that he likes to pretend he absolutely doesn't have-- Eames hasn't really bothered with smoking since it fell out of fashion, but there's definitely something relaxing in the ritual of it and he could use that. Taking that and a bottle of whiskey (and a glass) out to the garden to either think or just try and relax.]