"Eames, shut the fuck up."
Eames shot Arthur a glare and barely stopped talking long enough to breathe. They were in their hotel room. Arthur had stripped off his shoes and socks, lost his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves when they came in, but he'd then sat down cross-legged on the bed with his laptop. He'd been there for hours. Eames was bored.
"Anyway, I told the bloke, it's not as if she's your real sister," Eames continued, just getting to the funny part of the story.
Arthur didn't look up. "Eames, I swear to God. SHUT UP!"
One look told Eames that Arthur meant it. He was coiled in on himself, so tense you could see it across the room.
"Arthur, you've got to put that away," Eames said. "There's no use beating yourself up over something you never could have known. Besides, we got out OK." In truth, it had been lucky they'd gotten out at all, but there was no use worrying about it after the fact.
"I'm fucking busy," Arthur muttered. Then, again, "shut up."
Eames was quiet a moment, then returned once again to his story. If Arthur would just pay attention for a moment, then maybe he'd laugh, and if he laughed, he wouldn't look so miserable.
"EAMES!" Arthur finally looked up. His face was red with anger. "If you do not shut the fuck up right now, I am going to gag you."
For a moment, Eames quietly considered his options. He could slip out and let Arthur stew and self-flagellate in peace-at one time, that's exactly what he would have done. Instead, he moved closer, sitting on the end of the bed, and started talking again. "Darling," he said softly, "please don't do this to yourself…"
"Eames, I told you to shut up." Arthur looked up, clearly not having any of Eames' placating tone.
"Actually," Eames said, raising an eyebrow as he decided on a new tactic, "what you said was that if I didn't shut up, you'd gag me." He met Arthur's eyes and licked his lips. "Or was that an empty threat?"
Eames liked to tell himself he allowed Arthur to get the slip on him, but it might have been that Arthur was just that fucking fast. Either way, before he'd had time to blink, Eames found himself pinned on his back to the bed, Arthur's knees holding his arms down. Arthur loomed over him with a still furious face. "OK, you babbling fucking imbecile," he seethed. "Fine. I will fucking gag you." He reached down and unknotted Eames' tie, pulling it from around his collar with a quick, whiplike hiss.
Eames didn't try to pretend he wasn't turned on. Instead, he bounced his hips up once, rubbing himself lewdly against Arthur's ass. Arthur snorted. "I hope you don't think this is going to be fun for you," he said. Then he grabbed Eames by the hair and wrenched his head up, slipping the tie behind his skull, then shoving it between his lips. "I am trying to fucking work, and you are distracting me. Since you won't go away, I'm just going to have to shut you up." He pulled the tie tight, then knotted it. It bit into Eames' mouth, not hard, but enough that he had to breath slowly around it. It wasn't comfortable.
Eames tried to speak, but there was only a muffled sound. He glared up at Arthur.
"Of course, you'll just take that off if I let you," Arthur continued. "And then I'll have wasted my time." Keeping Eames pinned, he unhooked his suspenders and pulled them off. Holding them in one hand, he carefully let one of Eames' arms up from under his knee and held it against the bed frame. Then he repeated the action on the other side, forcing Eames' hands together and using the suspenders to tie them to the bed.
"I know you can get out of that," Arthur said quietly, moving his body off Eames'. "But if you do, it had better be to find somewhere else to sleep."
Arthur grabbed his laptop and walked to the desk, setting it down, then pulling out the chair and turning back toward it.
You couldn't do what Eames did without a whole lot of patience. Typically, he didn't exercise it in his private life, but that didn't mean he wasn't able to. He waited.
Arthur "worked" for only a few more minutes, then rose. He didn't even glance at Eames. He closed the laptop, then walked to the middle of the small room, rolling his head back on his shoulders, stretching his arms. He took off his tie and laid it on the dresser Casually, he began to unbutton his shirt, then slipped it off his shoulders. His trousers followed. When he was down to just his underwear, he looked at Eames dispassionately. "You're just going to lay there, quietly," he said. "No matter what I do, you're not going to make a sound." He didn't look for any sign of agreement, just assumed that Eames would do as he was told.
"First," Arthur said, clearly talking more to himself than to Eames, "I want to see you." He unbuttoned Eames' shirt and left it open over his chest, unable to take it all the way off with his hands tied to the bed. Then he unfastened Eames' trousers and pulled them, along with his underwear, down his legs and off. "Good," he murmured.
Eames was half-hard, had been since Arthur slipped the tie between his lips. This wasn't typical for them, but "them" was new enough that there wasn't really any such thing as typical, yet. He'd been tied up in bed before, but it hadn't ever felt quite as dangerous as this. Arthur might well actually be the bloke who just ties you up and leaves you there. The anticipation was exciting.
After he had Eames' clothes off, Arthur backed up a bit, running his eyes up and down Eames' body. Eames looked at him and spread his legs wider, inviting closer inspection. He wasn't sure, but he thought Arthur may have smiled.
"You think it's going to be that easy?" Arthur snorted. "Hardly." He reached out and ran one single finger slowly up Eames' foot, over his shin, his knee, his thigh. He ran it over Eames' hipbone and up his side, curling around his nipple and then up his throat to where the tie was getting progressively wetter in his mouth. "This isn't supposed to be fun for you."
Eames groaned, but the sound was muffled. Arthur backed up slightly, making sure Eames could see him. He continued to speak as he ran his hands down his chest. "All fucking evening, I've been trying to work, and you've been jabbering on and on. If you could have just let me finish, we could be fucking by now Instead, I have to do this." He shook his head with mock disappointment. "It's really too bad you have no self-control." As he finished his sentence, he let one hand run below his navel, cupping his cock over his briefs. "Now I'm going to get myself hard. I'm going to use you to do it, and then I'm going to jerk off on you. And you're not even going to be able to tell me what you think about it, much less touch me, or touch yourself." He squeezed his cock and tilted his head back a bit, making sure Eames could see the languid arch of his neck. "And it's all your fault, Eames."
By the time Arthur pulled off his underwear, he was mostly hard. Eames, lying on the bed, immobile, with wide eyes, was rock hard and dripping. Arthur stepped forward again and smiled. "I bet you'd like me to touch your cock, wouldn't you?"
Eames nodded vigorously.
Arthur laughed. "I'm not going to." He ran the same single finger over Eames again, tracing a line from one hipbone to the other, avoiding the straining erection between them. Eames thrust his hips into the air, attempting to force contact. Arthur laughed again.
Arthur climbed on the bed then, straddling Eames, but keeping far enough down his legs not to bump his erection. He effectively held Eames' legs down with this weight, and positioned himself so his taunt belly and full cock were right in Eames' line of sight. Eames groaned again, muffled behind the gag.
Arthur stroked himself lazily, using the other hand to rub light circles against Eames' chest. "You're really ready for it, aren't you?" he asked, chuckling. "Think you're so fucking patient and put together, but all I have to do it put on a half-assed show and you're whimpering." He picked up his pace slightly, pulling his dick in longer, quicker pulls. "Hmm…" he said, stopping. "I could use…" then he glanced at Eames' cock as if it had just occurred to him. "Oh! I'll use yours!" He ran his hand up and down Eames' erection, far too gently to do any real good, just hard enough to gather some of the wetness. Eames groaned again and even pulled slightly at the suspenders around his wrists.
"Don't do that," Arthur warned, using his now wet hand to slick himself up. "Remember, you pull your hands loose, I throw your ass out." It still wasn't clear if he meant it, but Eames wouldn't put it past him.
So Eames watched, trying not to pant and gag himself further, as Arthur worked his cock. As he jerked himself, Arthur spoke in a soft, deep voice, telling Eames, in detail, what he'd rather be doing, were he not forced to teach Eames this lesson. "I could be opening myself up for you right now," he said, increasing his pace a bit. "I could be getting all wet and ready for you to fuck me." He looked down at Eames' neglected dick. "I could be riding you right now, and listening to you mumble that filthy fucking nonsense you like to spout while you're fucking me." He sighed, tilting his head back and fucking harder into his hand, his voice starting to break a bit. "But instead, I'm going to jerk off until I come all over you."
Eames' hips were rocking with Arthur's movements, even though he couldn't go anywhere with his hands tied and his legs pinned. His eyes were wide, unblinking, as he watched Arthur's orgasm build. When Arthur finally climaxed, he painted Eames groin with his come. The warmth of it hitting his cock made Eames groan behind the tie again.
After he finished, Arthur didn't fall down onto Eames like Eames had hoped he would-no chance for that much friction. Instead, he waited a moment, then stood up next to the bed. "You think I'm going to untie you and let you finish yourself off now?" he asked, then shook his head. "Nope. You're staying right there, with my come all over you." He smiled sweetly. "I'm going to take a shower."
Arthur took his time in the shower. Though he kept thinking he should just pull his hands free and end this game, Eames couldn't make himself do it. It was too enticing to find out what would happen next, even if he was getting uncomfortable. Finally, Arthur opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam following him into the room. He was still naked, his wet hair messy. "I was thinking while I was in the shower," he said, coming close to the bed. "Why should I punish myself just because you can't shut up?" He ran a finger over Eames' lips, split by the tie. "You have such an amazing mouth, when it's quiet. So, what we're going to do is this: I'm going to take out that gag, and you're going to wrap those lips around my dick instead. And if you do a good job, and stay quiet while you're doing it, then maybe I'll untie you." He smiled down at Eames. "Nod if you're in agreement."
Eames nearly broke his neck nodding.
Arthur pulled the tie away. Noticing how wet it was, he chuckled. "This is why I used yours and not mine."
Eames almost answered him, but caught himself. Arthur hummed in approval, then returned to his previous position, straddling Eames on the bed. This time, though, he moved his body up so his cock was level with Eames' mouth. Eames lifted his hips mindlessly, trying to chase Arthur's form with his still-hard cock. "None of that," Arthur scolded. "I told you, if you do you a good job, maybe then."
Eames glared, but stayed quiet.
The blow job was fast and sloppy, with Arthur fucking Eames' mouth relentlessly, right up until Eames though he was going to choke, then backing off so Eames could breathe, then doing it again. Since he'd already come once, it took Arthur a little longer than it normally would, but Eames didn't care. He loved the taste of Arthur, the weight of him, the little gasps he made when he hit the back of Eames' throat. Eames stayed quiet and concentrated, and before too long, Arthur was coming down his throat and he was swallowing greedily.
Arthur threw his leg off Eames and laid down next to him for a moment to gather his wits again. "You are a fucking mess," he said, laughing at Eames' red face, watering eyes, bruised lips, and body still covered in Arthur's come. "You're gorgeous."
It was all Eames could do not to answer. He bit his lips and looked at Arthur imploringly. This wasn't at all what he'd expected, but he couldn't pretend he wasn't enjoying it. As long as he would eventually be allowed to come.
Arthur read his mind. "OK," he said "You've been remarkably quiet. Do you want me to untie you?"
Eames thought a moment, then shook his head no.
Arthur grinned. "Excellent," he said. He moved to straddle Eames again, this time just above Eames cock, his ass resting against it. Eames caught the sound he nearly made in his throat and forced it back down.
"Good," Arthur murmured. He leaned over and grabbed a condom from where they sat on the bedside table, keeping his eyes on Eames as he opened it, then lifting up to roll it over Eames' erection. "I got ready in the shower," he explained, lowering himself slowly down.
Once he was inside Arthur, keeping quiet was much harder. Eames bit his lips and rocked his body as Arthur moved over him. His hands were losing feeling, and he'd bitten one lip hard enough to bleed, but he didn't care. He watched Arthur with bright eyes, strangling every noise he wanted to make.
Arthur talked enough for both of them. Usually fairly quiet in bed, he kept up a constant commentary, telling Eames how beautiful he was, how good his cock felt, how happy he was to be in bed with him. Eames' heart swelled even as he raced toward climax, coming far more quickly than was really decent for a man his age.
Arthur waited until he had them both cleaned up before he finally unbound Eames' hands, rubbing the circulation back into his wrists. "That was amazing," he said. "I didn't think you'd be able to do that."
Eames gave him a dirty look and said nothing.
Arthur grinned. "Is this the silent treatment, or are you waiting for permission to speak?"
Eames shrugged.
Arthur grinned harder, then leaned forward and kissed Eames softly. "I love the sound of your voice," he said, his mouth at Eames' ear. "I'm sorry I was a dick about it earlier."
Eames pulled Arthur into him, hugging him against his chest. When he spoke, his voice was unnaturally soft. "Do you feel better now?"
Arthur nodded against his chest. "I do. Thank you."
"Anytime." Eames ran his fingers through Arthur's drying hair. "But next time you're being bratty, I'm tying you up."
"I'll hold you to that, Mr. Eames."
