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BRB GOING TO SEE INCEPTION IN IMAX. \\o// Come to me, three story tall JGL!
I am kind of obsessed with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
inception_kink atm, although the constant use of Eames calling Arthur "darling" is a little obnoxious. BUT MY GOD, THE PORN IS SO HOT. Case in point: SUIT!PORN. OM. NOM. NOM.
I wrote 1200 words of fic last night and then decided to delete it all. Bah. Damn it, fandom, why must you taunt me into writing fic based on a Chris Nolan story? IT'S VERY NERVE-WRACKING. Or maybe I'm just overthinking shit.
Here, have super hot picture of JGL, from the time Eames dreamed about them being gangsters from the 20s (GANGSTERS IN LOVE. WHAT.):
NEEDS MORE SUIT!PORN.
I am kind of obsessed with
inception_kink atm, although the constant use of Eames calling Arthur "darling" is a little obnoxious. BUT MY GOD, THE PORN IS SO HOT. Case in point: SUIT!PORN. OM. NOM. NOM.I wrote 1200 words of fic last night and then decided to delete it all. Bah. Damn it, fandom, why must you taunt me into writing fic based on a Chris Nolan story? IT'S VERY NERVE-WRACKING. Or maybe I'm just overthinking shit.
Here, have super hot picture of JGL, from the time Eames dreamed about them being gangsters from the 20s (GANGSTERS IN LOVE. WHAT.):
NEEDS MORE SUIT!PORN.
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JUST FOR YOU
It’s been two hundred twenty-five days, six hours, and nine minutes since Arthur last got laid. The minute part is just for hyperbole, but it’s still an awful long goddamn time. Not that he’s complaining, because bitching about a lack of sex on the job is tacky. It’s no one’s business what goes on in his private life, and he’s pretty sure Cobb gets along just fine not knowing the details of Arthur’s sex life.
However, it doesn’t exactly bode well when his subconscious is more than a little frustrated.
Once, the walls of the hotel room are dark red, the sheets a crimson satin, practically screaming bordello. Cobb raises an eyebrow at Arthur and drawls, “Seriously, man, you need to get out more.”
Arthur absolutely does not blush. He never blushes.
Instead, he goes home, beats off in the shower, and makes himself dream of plain white.
//
Cobb informs him a few weeks later that he’s found a new forger, and that he’d like to test him out a little, see what he can do.
“He comes highly recommended, possibly one of the best out there right now. He helped close that job in Thailand two months ago.”
“Oh, good,” Arthur sighs. Recommended or not, that means the guy was probably a giant dick. Everyone in the field knows about the Thailand gig, how it had been virtually impossible. Forgers who were good know they’re good, and this guy probably thinks he’s Harry fucking Houdini.
They eventually meet Eames, and Arthur is thoroughly unimpressed. The guy looks like he stumbled off the Vegas strip, for fuck’s sake, not to mention he’s wearing black loafers with dark navy slacks, an all-time pet peeve of Arthur’s.
“I’m sorry, have I missed something?” Eames asks after Arthur spends a minute too long frowning at his wardrobe choices. He sounds amused, the lilt of his accent almost playful.
Arthur narrows his eyes. “No. Let’s get this over with.” He glances over at Cobb as he settles into his chair beside the dream machine. “I’ve got this one, right?”
Cobb shakes his head. “We’re giving Eames a test run, it’s his show.”
Damn it. “Wait, so I’m supposed to just--”
“Sit back and be beautiful, love,” Eames replies, the words startlingly close to Arthur’s ear as he trails his hand over the back of Arthur’s chair. “I’m sure you’re quite skilled at that, yeah?”
Arthur jams the needles into his arm. Thailand job or not, he pretty much hates this guy.
//
JUST FOR YOU PART 2
Soft, warm skin brushes against his arm, startling him. Arthur turns around and comes face to face with a lovely blond with wide green eyes. Her body is small, compact, but solid, like a gymnast. She smiles up at Arthur as she splays her hands around his waist, over the shirttails that have somehow come untucked from his jeans.
“You’re gorgeous,” she leans and says over the music against Arthur’s ear, letting her hips roll against his, and fuck, Arthur’s hard. Really hard. Embarrassingly hard. And this girl isn’t even his type.
“I...” He bites his lip, resisting the urge to pull her tight against him and grind into her. She’s not his type, but god, he just--he hasn’t had someone touch him like that in a while, even if it is just a nameless girl in a club. But her hands are smooth, slightly cool as they slip beneath his shirt. She drags her nails over his abdomen, and Arthur chokes back a groan.
“I’m Kendra,” she says, her lips coasting the shell of Arthur’s ear. “And I’d really like to make you feel good.”
You’re doing a great job, Arthur thinks, clenching his jaw as their hips connect again.
“Come with me?”
He doesn’t know this girl, has no idea where she’s about to take him, but Arthur’s mind is filled with a red haze and his body is clamouring for attention. He lets Kendra take his hand and lead him off the dance floor, past the bar, through a long, winding hallway that leads to a room clearly marked “staff.” Arthur wants to be embarrassed that he’s about to become a cliche’, but at this point he really doesn’t care. Kendra pushes open the door, pulls Arthur in behind her, and then turns to give him a bright, dazzling smile.
“Are you ready?” she whispers, her hands sliding up Arthur’s chest.
“Please,” Arthur gasps, and that’s when Kendra shoves him hard into the wall behind them.
//
He wakes up panting, hands griping the arms of his chair with too much force. Arthur blinks over at Cobb, who looks intensely pleased...and maybe a bit amused.
“Was that satisfactory enough for you?” Eames asks. He is sitting to Arthur’s right, hands folded behind his head. He meets Arthur’s eyes and smirks, tilting his head to one side. “You flush most becomingly, love, it’s a fabulous look for you.”
Arthur blinks again. “You--you were--”
“I suppose I should tell you that I have an affinity for blonds. They do have all the fun, after all.” His smirk turns almost rakish as he scrapes his teeth slowly over his lower lip. It takes a full three seconds for Arthur to realize he’s staring.
“And that? Was fairly brilliant,” Cobb says. “I’d say you passed with flying colors, unless Arthur has something to say.”
Arthur does have something to say, actually. “Fuck you,” he replies, jerking the needle out of his arm.
Eames puts a hand over his heart. “But we were getting off to such a magnificent start.” He’s practically leering at Arthur. “However,” he adds, “a sexually frustrated point man was not something I expected. We shall have to rectify that in some way or another.”
Cobb chokes on a laugh.
Arthur figures him storming out of the warehouse is enough to convey his opinions on their new forger.
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I LOVE the idea of Arthur being totally bereft in the sex department, having to keep such a tight rein on his frustrations because he's got a fucking job to do, all buttoned up in his stiff, crisp suits. GODDD WHY IS THAT SO HOT. FUCKING SUITS. UNNNNNNNGH *___*
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this is fabulous!
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I agree with you on the overuse of "darling", definitely. I would love to read a fic that had Eames only calling Arthur darling if they are in public. Maybe for whatever reason Arthur doesn't want/like Eames calling him darling? or maybe they just don't talk about feelings when they're alone together, and It's the only way Eames can tell Arthur how he feels? Except Arthur just thinks he's teasing, or ribbing and he doesn't mean it. So he gets all huffy and upset and I don't know, it leads to Arthur not noticing something on a job, and Eames getting hurt. Then there is lots of Arthur taking care of Eames, and maybe Eames can call Arthur darling while he's sedated, or say something that makes Arthur realise he's not joking around. Then Eames gets better and there is lots of wow-I-return-your-feelings-too!sex. The end.
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