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09 November 2010 @ 04:43 pm
Losing to Win (3/3)  
Part One
Part Two

Arthur wasn't surprised. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything while sitting across from the topless forger. His skin, tanned from his time spent in Mombasa, no doubt, seemed to ripple with muscle at every movement he made, like a prowling jungle cat.

"You win another hand," he said, meeting Eames's burning eyes defiantly. "Another layer from me, then." He stood up from the table slowly, hands trailing down to the top of his suit pants, bulge evident even through the smooth fabric.

His fingers hooked into the strap of his belt, unhooking it and then pulled it out of the loops slowly. He undid the top bottom, and slowly pulling the zipper down. He slid his thumbs around the waistband, loosening them enough to let the pants fall gracefully to the floor, stepping out of them, shoes and all. Then, feeling just the slightest bit bashful, he sat down before Eames could stare at him in just his boxer briefs.

Eames watched Arthur remove his pants as if he were watching the most interesting thing in the world, wearing a grin that was halfway between smug, and completely entranced. He folded his hands on his stomach and by the way his knuckles were turning white it was obvious he was not just resting them there for no reason.

He made a soft grunting noise in the back of his throat as he watched the hotel room's light dance off Arthur's milky skin, as he dropped his pants, and then quickly sat down. But there was no hiding an erection in boxer briefs, no matter how fast you were.

He took off his glasses slowly and cleaned them on his pants, smiling to himself. "You look quite ridiculous with just shoes on, darling, take those off too."

Arthur colored a faint red, and said a bit too breathily, "This is strip poker, Eames, and I didn't see you win another hand yet." He scooted his chair closer to the table, one hand on his thigh a bit too close to be considered casually placed. "So, either take your own shoes off first or beat them off me."

He grinned when Arthur mentioned "beating them off". "Don't tempt me, Arthur," he purred, and gave him a pouted look, accentuated times ten by his full lips. "But I'm not wearing shoes."

He lifted one leg to reveal he was indeed, barefoot. "I'm at an obvious disadvantage. The least you could do is even the score."

Arthur pursed his lips, his grip on his thigh tightening. Why was it that Eames was always so logical during the most inopportune times? "Somehow I doubt you're at a huge disadvantage, Eames," he muttered sulkily. Why did he have to be losing, and to Eames, with his hands and glasses and smooth attitude?

Arthur lifted one foot to the table and deftly untied the laces and removed the shoe, followed by the other foot and shoe. He placed his shoes next to his chair and was left with wearing nothing but his underwear and socks.

"That's better," he said quietly, sliding his glasses back on. He smiled to himself and hummed nonchalantly as he dealt the next hand.

Arthur swallowed against a lump in his throat and averted his gaze from Eames. Arthur knew he was playing a game with him, separate from poker, but he himself wasn't sure what would come of it. Or what he himself even wanted to come from it. All he knew was that he was more wound up than he'd been in a very long time and it was Eames steadily tightening his wires.

As Eames dealt the cards, he took the moment to look at the forger, to really see him. He was annoying most of the time, badly dressed nearly all of the time, but begrudgingly fun to be around all of the time. If Arthur wanted to be really truthfully with himself, he even admired those qualities of Eames's that seemed to irk him the most.

He looked at Eames over the top of his cards, but while in such a state of undress and Eames' himself shirtless and wearing impossibly attractive glasses, it did nothing but add to the fire growing in his groin. He surreptitiously adjusted himself, trying not to let a groan become too audible. His hand wasn't bad at all. In fact, he could probably win it…

"I fold," Arthur said, looking away and placing his cards face down on the table. "You win, Eames."

Eames was a forger. If there was anything he knew, it was a bluff. And he caught that bluff as soon as Arthur had placed the cards on the table. The empty bottles of scotch now sat on the floor, making small puddles of alcohol at their mouths, and both men felt the warm fire of it in their bellies. Eames looked at Arthur, not smiling for the first time that night. Instead, his expression was somewhere between serious and placid. He made a noise of approval, shrugged, and placed his cards on the table.

He stood up and stretched, his muscles long and lithe under the tattoos and the skin and the smatterings of hair. He murmured and suddenly he was leaning over the table, palms face down on the wood, staring intensely at Arthur. His eyes were somewhat bloodshot from the alcohol, but they were full of the passion and intensity Eames was famous for. The coy smile returned to his features.

"That's not very fair to you... is it?" he whispered.

Arthur met Eames' eyes fully, drawn in by what he saw there, and could not deny the twitch he felt in his groin. Eames was close enough that Arthur could feel his warm breath ghosting over his skin, and his thoughts filled with what that same breath would feel like on other places of his body.

Arthur tilted his head, and murmured softly, "Interesting that you think me missing out on seeing you strip is unfair." Leaning forward, he reached out with his hand, and gently hooked a finger into Eames' khakis. "Did you want to do something to remedy that?"

Something in the forger snapped. He reached out, gently touching Arthur's face. When Arthur did not recoil, he kissed him full on the mouth, deeply.

When he pulled away, he smiled, delirious. "I didn't know you had such.... bravery, in you, darling." His fingers travelled down and skirted Arthur's neck. "But I like it."

Arthur moaned without any disguise at the touch. After an entire night of teasing, to feel Eames' fingers on his skin, it was like he'd been walking across a wool floor, gathering static electricity until it was finally discharged in one grand shock. But Arthur knew he was far from spent, wanting to feel the delightful sparks all over his burning skin.

Arthur reached up, grabbing Eames by the hair and pulling him in for another kiss, blown away by the versatility of the other man's tongue. After a moment, he removed his mouth, much to the disappointed groan Eames made, but Arthur was too busy trailing kisses along his jaw up to his ear, where he nipped him lightly. "You've been fucking with me the whole night, Eames. Every man has a breaking point," he said hotly in the forger's ear before licking a wet stripe on the sensitive skin just below.

Eames let out a shuddering, shaking breath as he felt Arthur's mouth move along his jaw and ear. He tried to laugh, but it sounded a bit more like a strangled cry.

"Seeing your hot little ass sitting across me, drunk and so turned on, wasn't exactly a picnic for me, either, pet." he breathed. "I knew I had to bide my time." He wrapped an arm around Arthur's neck and nipped at his ear. "But I have to say, I wasn't expecting this when I texted you a few hours ago."

Arthur sucked in a breath through his teeth at the bite on his ear. He stood and moved around the table to press himself closer to Eames, feeling him through the layer of pants he still wore, and his own cock was visibly straining against the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.

"Undress. Now," Arthur said, his tone of voice similar to when he's instructing the team on something vitally important, though this time the urgency was related more to him needing to see and feel more of the infuriating, alluring forger.

Eames wrapped one arm around Arthur, pulling him close so his breath was hot against Arthur's neck, but the metal of his glasses was cold. He used the other hand to slide a few fingers into his waist band and tug at it.

"I think I'm going to need a little help. This belt, you see, it's very tricky." he whispered, his own voice strangled with the sudden onslaught of Arthur pressing himself against him.

Arthur inhaled deeply, his cock throbbing at the contact with Eames' body. He moved his mouth to the forger's neck, licking wet line up to his jaw and he moved one hand to Eames' belt to undo the simple latch and loop, his other hand scratching nails down his back.

"You're such a goddamn liar, Eames," he said as the belt loosened easily under his hand, mouth licking into Eames' open mouth.

"My goddamn lying is what led you over here in the first place," He laughed lightly, shuddering and arching his back against the pain and pleasure that Arthur's fingers brought him. With a fast movement, he slide the pants roughly off his hips, revealing the blue boxers, made of silk, with amazingly no print on them at all.

"You're the liar, Arthur," he said. "Pretending you weren't interested. How very cruel. I have a feeling you're going to surprise me tonight, aren't you?"

"There's a lot about me that you don't know, Eames," Arthur replied, sliding one knee in between Eames' legs, making him spread them wider. At Eames' reaction, he bit down on his bottom lip and groaned.

"Take these off," he said, one hand palming heavily against Eames's hard cock through his boxers. giving Eames another firm squeeze. "I want to see all of you." He gave the forger another firm squeeze." And then take mine off."

He gasped at Arthur's touch, then laughed, and shook his head, small pants escaping from his mouth. "You're just full of delightful surprises, aren't you?" he said, thumbing his waist band and sliding them off.

He placed his palm against Arthur's stomach and slid it down, gently stroking along his length before lowering his hand and bringing the underwear down with it.

Arthur arched into Eames' sure touch, his skin ablaze where Eames fingers slid. The same sure touch that had wrought him into a mess with just a back massage was touching his aching cock. He wasn't sure when he'd ever been as hard as he was now. And judging by how heavy the forger felt in his own hand, he could probably say the same for him.

Arthur licked his lips and placed his other hand on Eames' shoulder with a firmness. Eames quirked an eyebrow, but lowered himself to his knees in front of the point man. Even smiling up at him from the floor Eames was a cocky bastard that Arthur, but he knew other uses the forger could put his mouth to.

He leaned forward, pressing against Eames' full lips, expectantly.

He gripped Arthur's hip firmy with one hand and took his length into his mouth, first starting with long, slow sucks, and alternating between sucking sharply on the tip. He used his other hand to help at the base, and then brushing his fingers against his balls. He watched Arthur's reactions, watching the other man gasp and shudder, before he decided it was enough, giving the tip a final lick, and then smiling coyly up at Arthur.

"Oooh, you fucking cock tease," Arthur growled out at Eames, placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down to the floor fully and straddled him, cocks pressed together sending frissons of pleasure through out his body. He ran his hands all over the forger's chest as he began to rock back and forth on top of Eames.

He leaned forward, and began to trail kisses and well-placed licks down his torso until he was ghosting hot breath over Eames' cock, which was already beginning to leak with pre-cum. He smiled up at the forger and lowered his head, but instead of making contact with the jutting eager member, he pressed his mouth to his inner thigh and licked.

He growled and made soft moaning noises at Arthur's skill, sweat starting to roll down his neck and bead over his tattoos. When Arthur had made it down to his cock, he wound his fingers in his hair and tugged, his other hand gripping the nearby table leg.

"W-who's the c-cock tease now..." he gasped, in a tone that was half shocked, and half begging.

Arthur smiled as he continued to evade the eagerly awaiting to be touched erection. He switched to nip at the other thigh, then licked slowly up and up, but never quite making it. At Eames' strangled gasping, he slid a hand up Eames' body towards his mouth, pressing two fingers against the forger's open mouth.

"Ungh. Arthur," he breathed. "Fuck." He tugged sharply on Arthur's hair, arching his back as he felt his hand travel up his bare stomach. When they reached his mouth, he took them in his mouth and sucked, hard. Memories of the blow job he had given just minutes ago exploded in Arthur's mind.

Arthur looked up at Eames, absorbed in the way Eames' mouth took him in so readily and with such power. Then he lowered his head, nuzzling into Eames' heated groin and exhaled, his own hot breath like a caress over the forger's balls.

Underneath him Eames bucked, and with the steady, deliberate slowness, suckled one sac into his mouth, tongue moving over and around the quivering forger.

He breathed in quickly and bucked his hips against his breath, his touch. He lifted his legs and wrapped them tightly around the other man. He relished every stroke and lick, let the sensations take over his body and let his mind spiral into a big swirling lake of pleasure.

He tried to talk, tried to tell Arthur how he made him feel, how he felt like he was going to explode. But all that came out of his mouth were strangled gasps, Arthur's name, and the occasional swear word.

Arthur groaned low in his throat, impossibly turned on by the way the forger was reacting to his touches and teasing. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he thought it was about time he made the forger feel even more lost in pleasure as Arthur had felt earlier from just a simple massage.

Smirk growing, he disentangled himself from Eames' leg lock and rubbed the other man's thighs. "Eames," Arthur began, voice nearly hoarse with want, "roll onto your hands and knees…"

He took a deep breath, then pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at Arthur with wild eyes, wide open and unblinking. He was panting, and quickly swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and exhaled.

"Be gentle with me, love," he said, in a voice that he tried to disguise as smooth, but was tinged with suggestion. He gave a small smile, then rolled over onto his hands and knees, and started to take his glasses off.

Watching Eames turn over was an image that Arthur would hold in his head for years, if not forever. To think he'd ever see Eames in such a subservient position, he had to roughly palm himself to calm down.

He leaned up on his knees behind Eames, cock pressed hard in the cleft of Eames' ass as he reached up and placed his hands on the forger's shoulders. He buried his left hand into Eames's surprisingly soft hair and trailed his right hand slowly down the arching back, rocking softly against the other man, not enough to get much closer to the edge, but a steadiness to remind Eames of how much he wanted him.

Then he pulled back, resting both hands on the rise of Eames' backside. He could feel the forger shiver under his touch. With his right hand he rubbed comforting circles on Eames's cheek, and then moved his hand away. Then in a snap he brought his hand down in a sharp smack across his ass.

Eames yelled out in surprise, almost coming to the edge, but sucking in a deep breath to stave it off. He laughed. His laughter was high and giddy, and he looked back at Arthur shaking his head.

"God, you're amazing," he whispered. He arched his back against his fingers. One of his tattoos was a foreign symbol, and it trailed long links of black ink down one side of his back, and his skin shone with persperation.


Arthur growled, rolling his hips against Eames as he brought his hand up again, and then firmly down in a snap. The whack was loud enough to drown out the moans Eames was making and the groaning Arthur could not hold back. He followed up with two more whacks, then ran his fingers soothingly over the harsh red skin.

He leaned over the other man and asked breathily in his ear, "Did you like that?" He didn't bother waiting for a response before moving his mouth down Eames's back, licking the lines of his tattoo until he reached the angry red skin, licking softly to ease the sting.

"Yes, yes, god, fuck..." Eames breathed, flinching as Arthur licked the red skin, then shivering in intense pleasure. "You're fucking amazing..." He took a deep breath and reached down to try and still his aching member that was desperate for release.

"Please, just do it. Before I come apart..." he groaned and leaned back against Arthur, feeling his own hard erection against his ass.

Arthur smiled, fingers digging into Eames' hips. At the forger's pleading tones he pulled back, because he didn't want this to hurt him, and placed his hands on his ass and spread his cheeks apart, then lowered his mouth to Eames's puckered asshole.

He flicked his tongue out, testing Eames' resolve to not immediately cum in his hand and to wait for him. He knew the other man was on the edge and how painful it must have been to hold off for so long, but Arthur couldn't help but delight in preparing his lover this way, tongue gently stretching and slicking.

He squeezed both hands on the forger's ass, and then quickly aligned his cock at Eames' entrance. He leaned over Eames' back, one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around his chest. Then, shifting his weight back, he swung Eames up into a sitting position onto his shaft, sliding his hand from the forger's hip to grip his cock firmly.

The rimjob surprised Eames greatly, and he started a little at first, but then was quickly overcome by the pleasure magnified by how sensitive he already was. He had no idea Arthur was so damn kinky, and that just drove him absolutely crazy.

He could also almost feel Arthur's pleasure in teasing him, and he knew he deserved it. Yes, it hurt now, but he knew that like himself Arthur always had the end in mind. When he finally moved into position to enter him, he breathed a deep sigh of relief, quickly followed by a strangled noise when he felt a hand wrap around his cock.

"Fuck, Arthur.." He gasped.

Arthur hissed as he became completely sheathed within Eames's tight heat, equally enjoying the way his name sounded from Eames's lips when in such a state of rapture. His hand began to gently pump Eames in time to the shallow thrusts he was able to manage in the position.

"Eames, I need..I need you to move with me," he whispered as he began to show him how, pushing the both of them to a near-kneeling position and then back down to their ankles. Soon they began a rhythm where Arthur was able to pull out more till just the head was inside him, and then meet Eames' downward push with his upward force, and with just one more shift of his leg, Arthur was able to angle himself deeper into the forger, and his reaction showed that he'd hit that sensitive spot of pure pleasure in Eames.

"Annh..." he gasped as Arthur entered him, lifting his head and closing his eyes as fireworks exploded underneath his eyelids. Arthur's voice sounded like so distant, and he had to strain to hear his instructions, but eventually started to follow them obediently, letting Arthur lead him back and forth like a well-oiled machine, listening to Arthur's own gasps and moans and taking great pleasure in hearing them uttered from his usually oh-so-serious mouth.

Finally, Arthur hit gold, and it was extremely evident as it was the final straw for Eames. He cried out and arched his back, his world red underneath his eyelids. He spilled his load all over the floor and Arthur's hand, followed by a quick sucking in of breath, like he had forgotten how to breath.

As Eames rode through his explosion, his muscles clenching rapidly around Arthur and dragging him with him, it was Eames' exclamations falling off his lips that pushed him over the edge. "Oh, god, Eamesss…"

He wrapped his free hand around Eames's chest as they rode out their orgasms, his mouth pressing kisses to the other man's shoulders as he slowed his other hand around the spent forger. He kissed a path up his neck, and breathed hotly in his ear, "Eames?"

Eames was busy trying to get the world to stop spinning. He moved his muscles a little bit and found he was extremely stiff. He stopped moving for now and sucked in a breath, and turned his head slightly into Arthur's.

"Yes, darling?" He said softly, his voice dripping with an exhaustion that was purely filled with love and pleasure. Arthur's lips sent electric sparks shooting through his skin.

Arthur pressed his lips against Eames’s lazily, as he was so sated with the man wrapped in his arms. "You're so beautiful, Eames," he murmured, eyes closing blissfully.

Eames slowly sat up, arching his back slowly, and sat back against Arthur, using the other man as a sweaty, naked back rest. He leaned his head against Arthur’s shoulder, and gave a deep, satisfied sigh, pressing his check into the other’s man’s.

“That’s quite a compliment coming from someone who was so greatly disturbed from my nude picture on your cell phone a few hours ago.” he laughed softly.

Arthur exhaled, a smile on his face. “Disturbed in the best ways, Mr Eames. Now,” he said, patting his sticky hand against Eames’ thigh, “I think we could both do with a shower.”

Eames laughed and took Arthur’s hand, bringing them both unsteadily to their feet. “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” he said, placing a hand on the other man’s back, and leading them both to the bathroom.

Eames’ voice echoed down the hallway from the bathroom. “Arthur, have you ever played Rummy...?"