Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/247722.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Inception_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Arthur/Eames_(Inception)
  Series:
      Part 2 of Simple_Math
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-08-31 Words: 827
****** Long Division (a Simple Math vignette) ******
by foxxcub
Summary
     A vignette set a bit in the future in the Simple_Math_'verse.
     (contains a NSFW image!!)

        [http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqgsk12LcD1qaqcoao1_500.jpg]
Okay, so in my head this could be a future moment in Simple_Math_verse where
Eames' family goes out of town for the weekend and leaves him alone, which then
of course leads to a marathon session of sex. And Arthur's fucked out, about to
pass out into the pillows, and Eames starts kissing over his shoulders
carefully, letting his fingers trail over the slope of his back, the perfect
curve of his ass. He still can't get over how he can touch all this now, how
it's his and not just some fantasy. Sometimes he'll crawl over Arthur and kiss
all up and down his spine, grazing his teeth over a certain bit of muscle, and
Arthur will grumble into his arms but never push Eames away.
He never pushes Eames away now, and Eames fucking loves him for it.
And maybe this time, Eames categorizes the scars on Arthur's skin--a spot
leftover from a bout of chicken pox as a kid, a faded gash from when Arthur
fell off his bike, the puckered line from where Arthur had his appendix removed
two years ago. It's moments like this when Eames wants to memorize Arthur's
body like he does a play; line by line, every angle, until he knows it by
heart.
"We really should change these sheets tonight," Arthur mumbles into the
pillows. He would seem oblivious to Eames' waxing poetic over his body, except
he sighs softly and arches into Eames' touch.
"Or we could sleep in the den," Eames says. There's a giant leather couch
downstairs, and Eames loves falling asleep with Arthur on his chest whilst they
watch Tarantino movies. Arthur's yet to stay awake through all of Reservoir
Dogs, much to Eames' dismay.
Arthur wiggles a little closer to Eames. "Or, we could live like civilized
human beings," he groans, but Eames hears the grin in his voice. "This is
fucking disgusting, Eames. Five times in twenty-four hours, there's enough jizz
in these sheets to be a health hazard."
"Hmm, keep talking filth, I love it." Eames nips at a spot just about Arthur's
arm pit, making him hiss and jerk. Arthur is deliciously ticklish; one of
Eames' new hobbies is exploiting this to its full advantage.
"Disgusting," Arthur grumbles again, and he finally turns his head on the
pillow and looks up at Eames through a mess of dark curls falling in his eyes.
His cheeks are still flushed from having come with Eames' fingers tucked in his
arse not twenty minutes ago.
Eames feels that tight clench of want in his chest, familiar and overwhelming;
he used to despise the feeling back when he thought Arthur wanted nothing to do
with him, hated the uncontrollable swooping sensation whenever he caught
glimpses of Arthur's smile, or a softness in his eyes. He can admit to himself
now that Arthur has the power to make him a melted mess of lovesick goo--hell,
he's probably had that power since they were kids.
Arthur tilts his head to one side, arches one eyebrow. "What?" he asks softly.
"I'm not actually serious, you moron, the sheets probably aren't that bad--"
His words die off into Eames' mouth as Eames slides over him, hand splayed over
Arthur's waist, warm and possessive. "I...I was just thinking," he whispers.
"That's dangerous," Arthur breathes.
"Fuck off, I--" Eames swallows, bumps his nose against Arthur's cheek. His
heart pounds a bit faster, because it's still hard to lay himself open. After
so many years of never believing in something, it's hard to truly trust in it,
even when "it" is wrapped in his arms.
He closes his eyes, and says, "You're beautiful. That's all."
Arthur is quiet, and Eames opens his eyes a moment later to find him watching
Eames with a startled expression.
Then, a slow, brilliant smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, his cheeks
deepening into those fucking gorgeous dimples, and Eames' chest swoops again.
"Are you gonna make love to me now?" Arthur whispers, batting his eyelashes.
Eames bursts out laughing and shoves at Arthur's chest. "You little shit--"
"Yeah, romance me on your jizz-covered sheets, loverboy!" Arthur shoves back,
and they end up wrestling across the bed, laughing and breathless, until Arthur
pins Eames against the pillow without much effort.
"Tell me again why I put up with you?" Eames gasps. He's smiling so hard his
face might break.
"Because," Arthur replies, leaning in to pull Eames' lower lip between his
teeth, sucking lightly. "You like me."
Eames lets his mouth fall open, lets Arthur kiss him deep and slow and perfect.
They end up sort of falling into each other, a tangle of arms and legs, but the
kissing never grows in urgency. He's perfectly content to lose himself in the
slick warmth of Arthur's mouth; they've got all night, and most of tomorrow.
He'll get around to telling Arthur how much he likes him at some point.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!