neededforger | Making up for lost time, one more time.

Making up for lost time, one more time.

They had lazed about for most of the day, mostly just because they could, and even when one or the other of them got up to use the bathroom or retrieve a book, they always came right back, as if somehow that bed held all the secrets of the universe. Come afternoon, Eames went to get his laptop, doing some research to find a restaurant for dinner, coming up with a few nearby and just deciding by what was closest, since he figured the walk would do them both good.
He even made a reservation, just to make sure they'd have a seat, even though as far as he could tell they were wide open as far as space.

"Are you ready, Arthur?" He called back towards the bedroom from where he was perched on the couch, having settled there after he'd gotten dressed, waiting for the other man to finish his shower, though the water had been off for a while.

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Arthur let out a soft noise and pushed back against Eames in response the roll of his hips. He also turned his head enough to nip at the other man's bottom lip.

He let that nip become a proper kiss, even though the angle wasn't ideal, it would do for the time being. The fingers laced against Arthur's curled again as he settled into something resembling a steady rhythm even though his breathing was already shallow.

His free hand dug into the couch again, his hips trying to match and meet the rhythm Eames had set. He would squeeze the other man every time he was inside and tried to keep the steady pace, despite his desire for it to be a bit harder, faster. Patience wasn't coming particularly easy to him at the moment.

Really if he kept that up it wouldn't be much longer before he was getting exactly what he wanted, mostly because it would be nearly impossible for Eames not to speed his movements, giving just a little more power behind each thrust, groaning against Arthur's throat before lifting his head to nip at the crest of the other man's ear, hips jolting forward with one sudden movement, fingers tightening again reflexively.

At the other nip, Arthur pushed back harder, making a very shameless noise while doing so, clenching around the other man again. He kept repeating that as he knew it would eventually wear the other man down (and, by this point, he was definitely giving in to his baser desires).

The sounds, as always, were what did Eames in. He kept his fingers laced with Arthur's on the one hand, his other hand sliding down the point man's side to knead at his hip a moment before digging in more securely, holding on to keep him in place as he rode forward against him, more firmly than before, a half-swallowed sound of his own escaping.

At the change of pace Arthur forehead returned to his arm as his grip on the couch and Eames' hand was renewed. He was practically mewing. Or whimpering. Or a mixture of the two. Either way, he let himself give in to the sensations and he could feel himself close to the edge after a while. He wouldn't be able to last much longer.

That position just left his nape open to molestation, really, and Eames grinned for a moment before nipping at the nape of Arthur's neck, not able to get a good hold, really, but scraping his teeth against the soft skin there as his hips jolted forward again, already rapidly approaching the brink himself.

At the scrape of teeth Arthur couldn't stand it anymore. He threw his head back, laying it on Eames' shoulder, his neck completely bared, his free hand going down to stroke himself vigorously. After moaning Eames' name a few times, he came, hard, crying out loudly with his whole body seizing up in pleasure so intense it almost hurt, his voice almost strangled because of it.

At that point he was in complete abandon, not caring if the other man saw him like that - while another part did want Eames to see him like that...

He bit down at the base of Arthur's throat again, the same spot he'd been so enamored of before, right where the pulse was fluttering away the strongest. The sudden increase in pressure round him was more than enough to wring his own climax from him, muffling (if only barely) a groan against Arthur's throat, knowing that with the amount of noise they were already making the neighbors would be quick to complain.

Arthur made a weak sound at the teeth at his throat, feeling completely boneless as he came down from riding his own climax. His chest heaving and eyes not wanting to open immediately. He was trembling slightly. Two orgasms in one night was big for him. But he managed to turn his head enough to press a soft kiss to Eames' neck.

[And if anyone complained about the noise he was going to place all the blame on Eames. Because he could. And because, if he knew Eames at all, the other man was most likely disgustingly proud of being able to get that kind of noise out of Arthur.]

He was, as a matter of fact, quite proud of himself right at the moment and even an little smug. Licking against the bitemark he'd just left, feeling more than a little boneless himself right then. Bed was probably a fantastic idea, but he was too content to move just yet.

Arthur was fading pretty fast, making another weak noise at the licking. He was pretty sure he wouldn't exactly be able to walk... for a while. At least not without some soreness.

When he finally did manage to open his eyes, all he could really do was look at Eames, not really able to say anything he was feeling (which there was too much even if he could voice them).

Eames finally withdrew once he'd managed to catch his breath, muscles feeling comfortably overworked, knowing that he'd probably be feeling that come morning. He shifted his weight so that he could just gather Arthur up, carrying him to bed.

Arthur ended up making another noise at the other man leaving his body - almost feeling like he already missed that kind of connection - but didn't resist being carried into the bedroom. He didn't have the energy to protest, either.

His eyes closing, he couldn't even imagine how Eames could still move let alone carry him all the way into the bedroom (which, when feeling this weak, seemed like several feet rather than the few it actually was).

There were a few moments after he'd deposited Arthur on the bed while Eames went to go clean up, but he returned before long, stretching himself out along Arthur's back once more, arm looping around the other man's waist, half-possessive, really, but gentle, "Sleep, Arthur."

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Making up for lost time, one more time.

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