Back to School

Pairing: Eames and Arthur (Inception)

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He couldn't believe what he was reading. Arthur had slipped the note pad from Eames' hands after he had fallen asleep on the couch. He knew that the Brit hadn't finished school, he actually grew up on the streets and took to coning and thievery in order to survive, but Arthur was absolutely appalled at the horridness that was Eames' spelling skills. The man was nearing thirty-one and he couldn't even spell "people" or "schedule" properly? Every other word was misspelled and the punctuation? How on earth could Eames even read his own writing?

Arthur let Eames snatch the pad out of his hands and tuck it under his arm. Eames wasn't one to glare, but he severely didn't like it when people touched his note pad. That was his. That was private.

"There are things in there I don't think you'll be particularly happy about reading, love." Arthur kept his gaze cool and blank, simply picked up Eames' feet, sat down on the couch and rested said feet on his lap.

"We can talk about that another time. Eames, don't take this as an insult, but I'm concerned about your spelling and punctuation. You're a grown man, an excellent forger and you have a brilliant mind, when necessary, but everything about your writing is just… it's honestly a bit saddening." Eames groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.

"I get along just fine, thank you."

"I think you should let me teach you basic English writing skills. Something simple, just to clean your writing up a bit."

"I'd rather not." Arthur popped off Eames' shoes and adjusted to massage his feet. Eames inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, letting a small moan roll in his throat.

"You'd be surprised, I'm a good teacher. It's not like I'm sending you back to school or anything, it's just writing."

"Now, see, you say that, but when you get a look at my maths, you'll want to teach me that too." Arthur twitched at the added "s" to "math", Eames did that a lot and it bugged the hell out of him every time. He was entirely determined to get him to agree to this, even if it meant being a bit creative. Who said Arthur couldn't be creative?

"What if we use it as foreplay?" Eames opened one eye and peaked down at this suddenly exquisitely beautiful man.

"Foreplay? How do you suppose we go about that?"

"We'll need to stock up on honey, chocolate syrup and whip cream cans. Maybe caramel topping too. Those can be your pencil, I can be your paper and your tongue can be your eraser." Eames wondered how on earth Arthur could keep such a straight face when talking about such mind-blowingly naughty things. Then his mouth went dry at the images that suddenly played through his head. And the sounds… Oh god the sounds Arthur would make.

"I guess I'm going back to school then." Arthur finally cracked and smiled playfully up at Eames who tried to hold back another moan, his hands were bloody magic.

"We should do some grocery shopping and make some room in the fridge and pantry then, hm?" His voice came out low and sultry. More sounds and images filled Eames' mind and he shot up. Arthur wanted to laugh at how Eames had ran straight for the keys to the car and bolted out the door without his shoes. He opted to sit and wait patiently until the conman realized his shoes were missing and was instead greeted to a still very eccentric child/man who had nearly slid and fallen onto his ass in the hallway.

"Arthur, we need groceries, why are you taking so long, we have to go, hurry up, why are you still sitting down, let's go, hup hup!"

"Your shoes?" Arthur gestured down to the brown dress shoes next to his feet and quirked an eyebrow when Eames scoffed.

"No time for shoes, they won't mind, I know I don't, let's-goooo." Eames clapped his hands a couple times, whistled and gestured at the door extravagantly.

"That's what I like to see, Eames, we need more students in the world to be this excited about their education."

Eames nearly chocked when Arthur gave him a single firm cock rub as he walked by and slung the shoes over his shoulder.

"Oh, absolutely teacher."