chesstotem | the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

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the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

Ariadne was a little surprised, truth be told, at how well her date with Arthur was going - not that she'd thought it would be bad, per se, but she'd expected a bit more awkwardness about the whole thing.

Instead, what she got was Arthur being charming, handsome and just plain nice, talking easily about work and music and wine, while Ariadne chatted about designing and weird architectural details and they compared notes on a few of the cities they'd both been to.

It was still pretty early, but Ariadne had never really been able to hold her alcohol, so she demurred at the bartender's suggestion of another drink.

"We should get out of here before I start stumbling around in these shoes." They were sensible enough shoes, though still pretty new and liable to hurt her feet if she wasn't careful.

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Ariadne could see Arthur almost visibly let go of something when Eames touched him. A sharp pang of what she supposed must be jealousy shot through her gut at the knowledge that he'd been willing and able to turn her down, but the same couldn't be said for the man standing behind him.

At the same time, she understood why, especially after what she and Eames had already done.

"Are you kidding?" she said, a little incredulous that Arthur would ever think she'd refuse both of them.

"That sounds like an answer to me, what do you think, Arthur?" Eames asked against Arthur's ear, nipping at the shell like a piece of candy, his thumbs digging into Arthur's shoulder blades.

It was acutely embarrassing, how Arthur seemed to melt just a little under Eames' attentions. It wasn't fair at all. Not to mention that he'd rather not show Ariadne just how...

nothing. It didn't matter.

Arthur cleared his throat and turned his head, ostensibly to get Eames to stop doing that to his ear. "I think I still get to punch you." But he could find no heat to put into the words, and that was almost worse than if he hadn't spoken at all. His hand skimmed over Ariadne's shoulder and down her side before he looked back to her. "You're sure?"

Well, her dress was officially a lost cause. She stood back, just a little, watching both of them carefully as she slipped the dress off, letting it drop to the floor. It was easy to press close to Arthur, effectively trapping him.

"Yes. I'm sure."

Eames chuckled, and as if on cue undid the tie of his robe and let it drop to the floor. As far as he was concerned, it could stay there. "It seems to me like you're a bit overdressed, darling."

Arthur watched Ariadne's dress come off without shame. He still would have said that this wasn't a fantastic idea... but he was far past voicing the opinion--especially when she pressed herself, naked, to his front.

Please. He was only a man.

Arthur dropped his head, his lips brushing over her shoulder. One hand pulled his tie open in response to Eames' words.

Ariadne had to agree with Eames - Arthur had way too many clothes on. She tilted her head to one side, her hair skimming over her shoulders in touseled waves as she started undoing buttons. She looked at Eames, smiling a little though she was still flushed - this was the strangest thing she'd ever done, and the two of them knew each other well.

She hoped she wouldn't be a third wheel.

She hoped she was good.

She was most definitely good, Eames knew that much from experience, and he smiled almost genuinely, as close to genuinely as he would usually get, when she looked over at him. It was a reassurance, a reminder that they would be just fine, that she was entirely welcome. He lowered his hands from Arthur's shoulders to wrap around his hips, tugging on the belt to undo it and pull, dropping it to the floor once it was out of enough loops to slip on its own. Those pants just had to go.

Arthur's fingers just skimmed Ariadne's hips, his mouth against her skin and making himself willingly oblivious to the looks passed between the two. He was sure something was there (Eames being rarely silent unless occupied)--he just didn't want to know. The undressing was submitted to without protest except for Arthur sucking gently on the mark that Eames had already made on Ariadne's collarbone.

God, she wanted this. She hadn't even realized, but she did. Both of them. She and Eames were unwrapping Arthur like a gift, and her hands slid inside his shirt, running over bare skin, tugging it off his shoulders.

Arthur's mouth was at her collarbone, and the mark Eames had made there was throbbing a little as he sucked on it. It made her moan, low in the back of her throat, one of the sounds she'd been making earlier with Eames. It was a needy kind of sound, though a bit more lazy now - she'd taken the edge off already, of course.

"Now isn't that better, the lot of us functioning together, this is much more productive, don't you think Ariadne?" Eames asked with a hint of mirth in his voice as he pushed Arthur's slacks down, dipping a hand unabashedly into Arthur's briefs.

Arthur didn't bother lifting his mouth from Ariadne's shoulder at the disrobing, though light suction became the scrape of teeth for the dragging of fingers across his chest and then the hiss of breath through a soft bite for Eames' hand. Ignoring Eames' words was easier when he didn't have to answer them but the warm palm and familiar fingers were something else entirely. Arthur's back jerked with the sensation, arching, dragging him from Ariadne and up against Eames.

He could feel his ears warming with a faint embarrassement; Ariadne knowing about them was one thing but being able to see him react so easily to Eames' touch felt... almost intrusive. If only because it madea Arthur realize that he was doing it.

Ariadne didn't notice Arthur's embarrassment, or she chose not to comment on it, because it was far too enjoyable to just follow the movement of his body, pressing close so that Eames' knuckles were rubbing against her, too.

Her hands touched Arthur's skin the same way she'd explored Eames, earlier - learning him by touch and feel. He was just as interesting, in different ways.

Ariadne may not have noticed, but Eames did. He could have commented, could have rubbed it in, but he didn't. It was a developing weakness that he vehemently ignored, his weakness for maybe not wanting to poke at Arthur's sores as much as he usually did. Instead he pressed his lips against Arthur's neck, kissing as his fingers stroked his erection, his thumb putting pressure against the slit.

Despite his slim build, Arthur looked no slouch when he was undressed. He kept himself in shape but still managed to be as unlike Eames physically as they were mismatched in disposition. He never thought about how their differences complimented each other, that was admitting something too personal.

It was easier to try and focus on Ariadne, her easy forcefulness, the way she had--even before this--insinuated herself easily between them. Is that why he wasn't objecting to this? Or--

Arthur choked on a moan for Eames' thumb and no, maybe that was why he was slow to object. The scrape of soft facial hair against his skin never failed to wake his nerves up but tonight they didn't get the chance to settle again because Ariadne's clever fingers were on him, tracing him as if she'd draw him later from memory. Arthur breathed out, skimming fingers down over her backside to keep her close as he shifted back against Eames. One hand lifted to cup a small breast, rolling the pert nipple between a thumb and forefinger.

Ariadne was still oversensitized after her first orgasm, so Arthur's touch sent a bolt of heat down her spine. Her hips rolled against him, against Eames' hand, and she whimpered a little, her mouth finding Arthur's for a searing kiss.

Eames's hand continued it's motions, squeezing Arthur's cock every so often to interrupt the rhythm. His lips and tongue and teeth tracing the muscles of his neck, giving every rise and fall of skin the attention it needed. His free hand rested on Arthur's hips, holding him in place. He loved him like this, the open target of his advances, and having Ariadne helping...

It wasn't nearly as unwelcome as he had expected.

He glanced at Ariadne again and, with a twinkle in his eyes pulled Ariadne's lips away from Arthur's to kiss her himself. In the moment when he was pulling away he leaned into her ear and whispered something, smirking as he pulled away and returned to Arthur's neck.

Ariadne's tongue and Eames' attention kept Arthur's mind well from the fact that he had let himself be put into so compromising a position--it was only when he could breathe again, somewhat, and watched Eames kiss Ariadne over his shoulder and then murmur into her ear, that Arthur realized where he'd ended up.

Trying to extract himself helped refocus his thoughts from the way Ariadne looked with Eames' lips pressing against her. Or vice versa. Arthur brought his shoulder up to try and box the other man away from his neck. "What?" It was an attempt at command, but his voice was soft with short breath.

Arthur wasn't getting away so easily. The look that Ariadne exchanged with Eames was completely devious. They were clearly not going to tell Arthur what Eames had said, but what Ariadne did next might give him an idea.

Dropping to her knees, she pulled his underwear off and wrapped her mouth around the head of Arthur's cock, sucking lightly.

Not so easily indeed. Eames's free hand returned to Arthur's hip, gripping tightly enough to signal that he wasn't slipping away without a fight, and this time he didn't expect one. Not with the hint he had given Ariadne, that was most definitely for sure.

As Ariadne dropped down Eames chuckled against Arthur's neck, pressing a neat kiss against his pulse. "Patience, darling, is a virtue you really need to learn," The hand on Arthur's cock slipped off to ruffle Ariadne's hair before slipping around to squeeze his bum.

Arthur's breath caught thickly in his throat as he watched Ariadne kneel and his eyes closed as the wet warmth of her mouth slipped around him, just in front of Eames' fingers. For a moment his world narrowed down to just that.

When Eames spoke Arthur made a sound that wasn't anything like derision and reached up, wrapping a tight hand around the back of the man's neck. The other moved to Ariadne, carding fingers through her hair.

She could feel herself being watched, as she took more of Arthur into her mouth. It didn't bother her, really, because it wasn't hostile.

She took her time, exploring Arthur's length with her mouth, with no real purpose.

The thing about Arthur that made Eames keep coming back, despite how close they walked the line of everything he ran away from, wasn't the sex. Well, the sex was part of it, but it was how Arthur's hand's felt on him, how he spoke with his body rather than an excess of words. It's like he could feel Arthur's urgency on the back of his neck, and he loved it. He leaned over Arthur's shoulder the best he could at that angle to press a kiss to the side of Arthur's mouth, before getting down onto his knees, kissing the small of Arthur's back.

"Ariadne, if you please, same drawer as the condoms." He asked, holding out his hand for the lubricant.

As much as it might be biased to say at the current moment, Arthur did think Ariadne was beautiful. The fall of her hair over her shoulder, the upward glance of her eyes... He carded fingers that soft hair, enjoying the feel of it without trying to direct her. He didn't mind the slow tease, actually, it helped distract himself from the overload that was she on her knees and Eames behind him.

Still, Arthur's lips parted as the warmth of Eames mouth touched and then was gone, leaving him to turn his head following it. The bristle of short hair slipped out from beneath his fingers and he swallowed a moan, pulling a hand down his face.

This was not going to end well for him. "Eames--Ariadne--" Arthur actually reached finger to touch her, distract her, from Eames' request.

Too late. Ariadne pulled away, smiled, kissed Arthur's fingers. Then she was gone, back only a moment later with what they needed - the lube, and a couple of condoms.

"You're not going to start objecting now, are you?" she asked Arthur, a little tease in her voice to accompany a slight pout as she skimmed her hands down his sides.

the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

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