
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7102624.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Inception_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Arthur/Eames_(Inception)
  Character:
      Arthur_(Inception), Eames_(Inception)
  Additional Tags:
      Teacher-Student_Relationship, but_Eames_is_eighteen, Light_Dom/sub,
      Nakadashi, Blow_Jobs, Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex, Rape/Non-con_Elements
  Series:
      Part 20 of A_Month_of_Kink!
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-05 Words: 4261
****** And To Some A Favor ******
by teacuphuman
Summary
     Arthur decides to take advantage of his student's crush.
     WARNING: Heed the tags! There is some dismissal of non-consent toward
     the end of this fic, though it does have a happy ending (no pun
     intended).
Notes
     Day 20 of the 31 Days of Kink: Nakadashi
     Yet another offering of straight up porn.
A punishment to some,
To some a gift,
And to many a favor.
                -Lucius Annaeus Seneca


Arthur is struggling to get his messenger bag open when Eames enters the
classroom.

“Ah, Mr. Eames, so nice of you to finally join us. Have a seat and take out any
work you have.” He’s distracted by the clasp so he doesn’t realize Eames hasn’t
obeyed until he speaks.

“I’m the only one here.”

Arthur looks up at the empty seats, then at Eames. “Such is the fear of my
detentions, no one by you dares to attend.”

“Yeah, right.” Eames mutters, but his ears are pink as he throws himself into a
front row desk.

Arthur hmms with triumph when he manages to get his bag open and starts pulling
out the papers that need grading. Once seated he glances at Eames, catching the
young man watching him. Eames averts his eyes and Arthur smiles to himself.
It’s odd, this little crush the younger man has. Eames is of a height with
Arthur, more a man than a boy now that he’s in his final year of high school.
The accent that arrived with him two years ago hasn’t changed, but the soft
spoken, narrow waisted pretty boy has morphed into a wrestling champion with a
chip on his shoulder since his father remarried.

“How did you break your arm?” Eames asks, drawing Arthur’s attention.

“Beating a miscreant who was late for class.” Arthur says, not looking up.

“Bullshit.”

“Language, Mr. Eames,” Arthur puts down his pen and looks at his cast. It’s
black and makes his arm itch like hell. “Defending an old lady from a mugger?”

“Try again.” Eames frowns.

“I tripped on a dog toy.” Arthur says seriously.

“You don’t own a dog.”

“No, I do not. And yet.” Arthur shrugs.

“They give you any good drugs for the pain?” Eames leans back in his seat.

“Nothing that wouldn’t show up in a piss test when you go to state next month.”

“That’s not going to be a problem.” Eames says, going back to the book in front
of him.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur’s voice is sharp and Eames’ head snaps up.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Eames flushes.

Arthur stands, his chair scratching across the floor. He stalks around the desk
to stand beside Eames, making him crane his neck to look Arthur in the eye.

“I asked you a question, Mr. Eames.” His voice is low and hard.

Eames slams his book shut and turns in his seat. “I’m on academic probation.
I’m not failing, but it’s too close for the new rules.”

“You should have no trouble meeting the new guidelines, Eames. You’re a very
smart young man.” Arthur lays his right hand on Eames’ shoulder, squeezing
gently.

“I know, I’ve just been busy.” Eames mumbles, leaning up into the touch.

“What’s more important than school and wrestling right now? Is it a girl?”
Arthur squeezes harder, feeling the muscle twitch under his hand.

Eames looks up at him, gaze shy, but heated. “There’s no girl.”

“Then what is it?”

Eames huffs, looking away. “They count disciplinary actions now. I’ve been
here, with you, almost three times a week for two months.”

Arthur should feel shame at the thrill that goes through him, but he can’t.
Eames has been putting his future on hold, the chance to graduate, to earn a
scholarship, to spend time with him. It’s been building since the new
guidelines went in, just after Eames turned eighteen. Each teacher is
responsible for their own detentions, and it’s done on their own time, after
school hours. Eames has Arthur’s AP physics class three times a week, and
unless he has practice in the afternoons, Eames will find away to piss Arthur
off just enough to sacrifice his own free time to punish him.

It’s wrong, Arthur knows that, but he can’t help but thread his finger through
Eames’ short blond hair, tugging on it and forcing Eames to look at him.

“Are you blaming me for this?” Arthur asks, watching Eames’ pupils dilate.

“No, Sir. I just can’t seem to help myself.” Eames turns his head to press a
kiss to Arthur’s wrist.

Until now, Arthur had himself half convinced that it was all in his head. The
looks, the discreet touches in class, the not so discreet ones after class.
Eames’ ability to transform back into the shy, quiet kid Arthur remembers from
two years past. This soft demeanor doesn’t fit with the confident and powerful
young man sitting in front of him.

Eames sucks lightly on the thin skin and Arthur tightens his grip. “What are
you doing, Mr. Eames?”

The boy stills, looking uncertain.

“I asked you a question.” Arthur shakes him a little and Eames’ eyes slip
closed.

“I-I’m asking for a chance,” Eames whispers, swallowing quickly. “A favour.
Maybe I can make it up to you. Do some extra work and then you can erase my
detentions.”

“Is that how you think life works? You can get out of trouble by throwing
yourself at someone?” Arthur’s pulse has picked up, his body taking an interest
in the proceedings.

“No, I just-”

“You just what, Mr. Eames? Hmm?” Arthur pulls on the hair in his fist, exposing
Eames’ throat.

“I just want you.” Eames croaks, eyes wild.

Arthur loses his breath for a moment before he leans in, speaking close to
Eames’ ear.

“You just want me, what?”

Eames’ response is a whisper. “Sir.”

Arthur pulls back, rubbing at the boy’s scalp where he’s been tugging. “And
what is it exactly that you want? What are you offering me in exchange for me
risking my job to fix your little problem?

“I could suck you.”

Eames eagerness thrills him, and Arthur rubs the thumb of his casted hand
across the boy’s mouth. “That a good start. Have you ever done that before?”

“A few times, yeah.”

Eames ears go pink again and Arthur smiles. “Hmm, you’ll have to tell me about
it sometime. What else?”

“What else have I done, or?” Eames’ brow crinkles.

“What else are you offering?”

“Oh, well, I thought I could, um. I could fuck you.” Eames mutters, face
flushing.

Arthur hums, endeared by how Eames falls forward when he steps back. He goes to
his desk, shoving the papers back into his bag.

“What are you doing?” Eames asks, voice strangled.

Arthur picks up his bad, turning with his eyebrow raised. “Well, we’re not
doing anything here. Best not to take unnecessary chances, don’t you think?’

Eames nods, scrambling to gather his belongings and follow Arthur out the door.
The hallways are mostly empty, the odd teacher and custodian wandering around.
Arthur smiles politely at the assistant principal when they pass the office,
then leads the way to his truck.

By the time they get seated and belted in, Eames’ breath is loud and quick.

“Calm down, you’re going to hyperventilate,” Arthur twists in his seat to look
at Eames. “Right now it just looks like I’m giving you a lift home. Is that
what you’d like me to do?”

Eames’ eyes go wide and he gasps out a no.

“You’re sure? Because I may not ask again.” Now that they’re here, Arthur would
hate to lose this, but he’s not going to go any further is Eames isn’t sure.

Eames grabs Arthur by the wrist and places his hand on the bulge in the younger
man’s jeans. He’s rock hard and groans at the contact.

“Well then, I guess that settles that.” Arthur pulls his hand away to start the
car, reaching out to rub Eames’ leg once they’re on the main road. Steering
with his casted arm isn’t ideal, but he’ll take the risk if it means feeling
the heat of Eames’ inner thigh.

He goes the speed limit, but takes the shortest way home, cutting through a
mini-mall parking lot. Three blocks from his house he slides his hand behind
Eames’ neck and pulls him sideways until his head is resting in Arthur’s lap.

“I have nosy neighbours.” He explains, swearing when Eames mouths at his
growing erection.

He parks in the garage, waiting until the door his fully closed before leaning
his seat back and instructing Eames to unzip his pants. His cast hits the side
window, sending a sharp pain through his arm when Eames sucks him through his
underwear. Jesus, if he’s not careful he’s going to come right there. He lets
Eames rub his face against his crotch, licking and sucking him until his
underwear is wet and clinging.

He pulls the boy back by the hair, tugging his underwear down to free his cock.
He lines up the head with Eames’ lips, smearing precome across them. Eames
whines, darting his tongue out to taste it.

“Go on then, show me what you know, Mr. Eames.” He barely gets the words out
before Eames takes him in, gagging himself a little in his haste. The kid is no
master, but he’s got it where it counts and soon he’s bobbing his head and
slobbering all over Arthur’s dick.

Arthur can’t help but hold Eames’ head down a little, thrusting up, just to see
if he can take it. The boy chokes, but he doesn’t complain, and Arthur’s balls
start to tighten. He pushes Eames away gently, catching his breath. Eames tries
to duck back in, licking at the head. Arthur shoves him away more forcefully.

“That’s enough of that. I’m sure you parents expect you home at some point and
if you make me come now I’m very much going to enjoy making you scream until
I’m hard again. And again.” Arthur pants.

Eames glances down at Arthur’s cock, then back to his face as if gaging how
serious he is and if disobeying is worth it.

“Grab your bag.” Arthur tucks himself back into his pants before Eames can make
a decision.

He lets them into the house, stopping only to drop his keys in the dish before
leading Eames into his home office.

“What are we doing in here?” Eames frowns.

Arthur drops his bag by the chair. “I think we already went over that.”

“Oh,” Eames looks around, nervous. “I thought we’d maybe go upstairs. To your
bedroom.”

“Hmm, did you?” Arthur steps closer, running his hands up Eames’ chest,
enjoying the feel of firm muscles beneath the thin cotton. “I think you’re
going to have to work your way up to that, Mr. Eames.”

“You want me to fuck you here?”

Arthur laughs. “Oh, I won’t be the one getting fucked.”

Eames pulls back, confused.

“Have you ever fucked anyone, Eames?” Arthur asks, pulling him forward by his
belt loops.

“No.” Eames admits, face wary, but not uninterested.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but your first time giving can be
a little...frenzied. Lots of new sensations to go along with the coordination
needed to keep things going. You understand?”

Eames nods, breath hitching when Arthur’s hands slide around to his ass.

“Good. Now, I’m guessing you’ve never been fucked either, right?”

Eames shakes his head, groaning when Arthur grinds against him.

“Excellent. We’ll be doing that then. Do you trust me?”

Eames opens his eyes, face serious. “Yes, Sir.”

Arthur surges forward to kiss him and, God, Eames’ lips, swollen from sucking
cock, are just as plush and warm as he’d imagined. Arthur gets a little carried
away, relishing the little noises Eames makes when their tongues slide
together. He doesn’t notice Eames’ aborted movements until the boy groans with
frustration.

“What is it?” He asks, kissing down Eames’ neck.

“I want to touch you.”

“No one’s stopping you,” Arthur laughs, pulling back. He realizes his mistake
when he sees Eames’ face. “Hey, I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“Right.” Eames spits, turning his face away.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted by your fucking gorgeous mouth
and I forgot we’re here for a reason.” Arthur steps back and Eames turns to
watch him clear his desk.

When Eames doesn’t move, Arthur looks up. “Take off your clothes, Mr. Eames.
Now.”

Eames stares for a moment before hurrying to comply. By the time Arthur has
everything moved, the boy is standing naked in front of him, erection jutting
out proudly.

“Goodness, have you ever grown. I remember your first day of school, you know.
You were shy. You barely said a word in class the whole first week.”

“I was terrified to let anyone hear my accent.” Eames admits, watching Arthur’s
hand slide along his skin.

“Why?”

“It was just another thing that set me apart. It was bad enough being the new
kid.”

“It’s beautiful,” Arthur kisses his sternum. “You’re beautiful. God, Eames, how
did we get here?”

This time the flush goes all the way down Eames’ body, making Arthur proud.

“Thank you. I thought-well, I’m glad you like it.” Eames flexes a little,
making Arthur laugh.

“I really, really do. Although, smaller you had his appeal, too.”

“Really? You could have saved me a lot of trouble by telling me that before.”

Arthur stares at him, questioning. “This is for wrestling, this isn’t for me.”

“Okay, not all of it, but I noticed you looking after I joined the team.
Figured it couldn’t hurt my chances.” Eames shrugs, unable to hide his smile.

“Just so we’re clear, I don’t need all of this,” Arthur waves his hand at
Eames’ bulk. “I’d take you like you were before. Although, I am appreciative of
the fact that you waited until after your birthday to come on to me.”

“Oh yeah? You wouldn’t have gone for me while I was jailbait?” Eames grins,
cocky.

Arthur gives him a stern look and raises his eyebrow. “Answering that could get
me in a lot of trouble, so.”

“Me being here now could get you in a lot of trouble.” Eames says quietly, a
challenge in his voice.

“Then I guess I’d better make it worthwhile. Get on the desk.” Arthur steers
him there with a hand on the small of his back.

Eames sits on the desk, legs spread to accommodate Arthur.

He runs his hands up the boy’s thighs, tone serious once more. “What have you
done?”

Eames is leaning back on his hands, body jerking every time Arthur’s hands get
near his cock. “Fingers, that’s all.”

“Yours or someone else’s?” Arthur scratches lightly, making Eames’ cock jump. A
bead of precome dribbles down the shaft.

“Mine,” Eames breathes out. “Four of them.”

“Good boy.” Arthur praises, grabbing a bottle of lube from his desk drawer.

Eames snorts. “You wank in your office a lot?”

Arthur smacks his thigh hard, leaving a red patch. “You want me to fuck you or
not?”

“Yes, please.” Eames gasps as Arthur rubs the welt left by his hand.

“Then mind you manners.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve done this part before so you know what to expect, but if you need me to
stop you say something.”

Eames nods, lip bitten white by his top teeth.

Arthur slicks up two fingers and rubs around Eames’ hole, pulling a groan from
the boy when Arthur applies a little pressure, slipping the tip of his index
finger in. He adds the tip of his middle finger alongside it, moving Eames’
heels to the edge of the desk before slowly pressing in.

Eames bares down, fighting the intrusion and Arthur has to shush him, reminding
him to relax.

“There you are, you can take it for me. That’s nothing, we have so much further
to go.” Arthur soothes, unable to look away from where his fingers are
disappearing inside Eames’ body.

With his legs spread high, Eames is on display and Arthur wants this moment to
last forever. But he also really, really wants to fuck him, so he starts
thrusting his fingers, pulling all the way out before sliding back in.

“Fuck!” Eames pants, sprawled across the desk.

“You good?” Arthur spares a moment to look up. Eames is grimacing, his torso
tense and splotchy.

“Yeah, don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. You’re doing so well. Tell me how you usually do this
to yourself.” Arthur adds more lube, then pets at Eames knee, waiting for him
start talking.

“I, ah, I do it in the shower.”

“And?” Arthur prompts.

“I soap myself up, Christ, And I stretch myself, one finger at a time, God,
give me a minute!.” Eames begs when Arthur adds a third finger.

“You’re perfect, you don’t need to stop. Tell me about the shower, Eames. What
else do you do?”

Eames’ breath is laboured, but he starts pushing back against Arthur’s fingers,
pulling him deeper. “Once I’ve got four in as far as they’ll go I soap up my
cock and wank. Ah, doesn’t usually take long after that. The first time I found
my prostate I nearly passed out and bashed my head open on the tub.”

Arthur laughs, thrusting faster. “Yeah, it can be a little intense. Would you
like me to-”

“No,” Eames gasps, eyes wide. “I’ll go off right now if you do that.”

“Hmm, are you sure? Fucking you while you’re pliant and spent has its appeal.”

“I’ll be too sensitive to do anything. It’s all I can do not to scream if I
touch it while pulling my fingers out after I’ve come.” Eames throws his arm
over his face, blowing slowly through his mouth.

“Good to know then. Ready for another?” Arthur asks, pushing in the fourth
finger before he’s done speaking.

Eames moans, reaching for his cock. Arthur bats it away, thrusting hard and
fast.

“I didn’t say you could touch that.” He scolds.

Eames grits his teeth, one of his heels slipping off the edge of the desk and
changing the angle of Arthur’s fingers. He cries out as Arthur brushes against
his prostate and Arthur freezes.

Eames is nearly sobbing and Arthur reaches out to squeeze his hand clumsily
with the fingers peeking out from the cast.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. Can we just-”

“Yeah, I’m going to pull out.” Arthur removes his finger slowly, careful not to
touch Eames’ prostate. His hole is soft and pliant and Arthur wants to nibble
at the rim. Instead he wipes his hand on his pant leg and pulls Eames in for a
kiss by the neck.

“You still have your clothes on.” Eames protests, clawing at Arthur’s shirt.

“The cast doesn’t make it easy, I may need your help getting them off.” He
grins as Eames jumps off the desk to disrobe him.

Once Arthur’s clothes are in a pile by the door, Eames’ hands are everywhere,
roaming over every inch of skin he can reach. He strokes Arthur cock a few
times before releasing it to knead Arthur’s ass.

“Had enough?” Arthur asks, amused.

“No, but I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, Mr. Eames?” Arthur asks.

Eames takes a deep breath. “Ready for you to fuck me, Sir.”

“Turn and around and bend over the desk.” Arthur commands, feeling warmth at
the look of shock on Eames’ face before he obeys.

He slicks up his cock, spreading the excess lube along Eames’ crack. He dips
his fingers back inside, humming appreciatively when Eames opens for him
easily. He lines up, then watches Eames’ face in the mirror hanging on the
closet door as he enter him.

Eames winces, then relaxes as Arthur pushes in, every inch bringing the boy
closer to him. When Arthur is as deep as he can go, his hips firm against
Eames’ plush backside, he takes him by the chin and angles his head up until
the boy can see them in the mirror.

Eames groans, head thrown back. “Jesus.”

“How do you feel?” Arthur kisses his shoulder.

“Full. So fucking full I could burst.”

Arthur thrusts a little, watching their reflection in the mirror. Eames’ eyes
fall shut and he pushed into it, urging Arthur along.

“Please, please,” he pants.

“Please what?” Arthur teases, slowly pulling out, the walls of Eames’ ass
clinging to his cock.

Eames catches his eye in the mirror. “Please fuck me, Sir.”

Arthur grins and slams back in, sending Eames forward into the desk. He picks
up the pace, pulling Eames back to meet him with his good hand and watching his
cock plunging in over and over again.

“God, I knew you’d be like this. I knew you could take it. Fuck, Eames, you’re
so tight.” Arthur’s probably leaving bruises on Eames’ shoulder, but he doesn’t
care. The kid is so tight and warm, all he can do it thrust blindly.

Eames is cursing loudly, face screwed into a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asks, slowing down a little.

“I need to come,” Eames whines, reaching back to speed Arthur up again.

“Touch yourself, go on. Every time I sit at this desk I want to think about how
you came all over it. How I fucked you into it until you begged me to let you
come.” Arthur growls.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so close.” Eames pants, eyes closed.

Arthur angles his hips up a bit, curious about the outcome. The moment the head
of his cock hit Eames’ prostate, the boy cries out, pumping come over his hand
and onto the desk. His ass tightens impossibly around Arthur, and he can only
thrust weakly or risk being forced out by the powerful spasms of Eames’ body.

Eames finally collapses onto the desktop, his grip on Arthur loosening
slightly. Arthur pins him to the table with his casted arm and speeds up his
thrusting. Eames screams, trying to get up, but Arthur presses him flat, hips
slapping against his ass..

“Almost there, you can do it.”

“No,” Eames nearly sobs. “It’s too much. Please.”

“You’ve done so well, got me so hard. I’m so close. Be a good boy and let me
finish.” Arthur’s hips stutter and he feels Eames go lax beneath him.

“That’s it, you love it don’t you? You want me to come.”

Eames is watching Arthur in the mirror. His face is strained, but he’s stopped
protesting. “Yes, sir.”

“Fuck, yes.” Arthur’s balls go tight and he grips Eames by the shoulders again.

“Please come. Please, Sir.” Eames’ gaze is intense and Arthur can’t hold back.
He shakes apart, spilling himself deep inside Eames’ ass. He stops thrusting,
wanting to feel the tight wetness as it fills the boy.

Eames gasps against the desk, Arthur rubbing his hands up and down his back
until he’s soft and slips out.

“Get on your knees,” Arthur slides his thumb into Eames’ hole to keep anything
from dripping out. “Come on, we’re almost done.”

Eames clamours up, arms and legs shaking. Arthur twists his thumb deeper,
trails of while squeezing out around it.

“Jesus, you’re so full. Can you feel it?” He bites at Eames’ ass cheek.

“Nnnngh,” Eames groans, sinking down to his elbows and putting himself on
display.

“I want to keep you here. I could plug you up, then use my come as lube to fuck
you again and again. Would you like that?” Arthur pulls his thumb out a little
before pushing back in, ejaculate dripping down Eames’ thigh. He’s watching the
path it takes when he notices Eames has his hand wrapped around his dick,
pulling quickly.

“You’re hard again already?”

“It’s not my fault. You and your fucking voice.” Eames pushes back a little.

Arthur replaces his thumb with two fingers, thrusting a little harder. “You
want me to keep talking then?”

“Yes, God, tell me everything you want to do to me.” Eames’ hand speeds up.

“We could be here a while,” Arthur chuckles darkly. “I’ll tell you about what I
was thinking as I was fingering you, how’s that? I kept watching my fingers
sliding into your hot little hole,” Arthur speeds up his fingers. “And I wanted
it to be my tongue. I’d like to stretch you out, spread you open, and eat your
ass until you come, screaming my name. Then I’ll fuck you. Soft and pliant,
just like you are now.”

Eames groans, come spurting weakly over his fist. Arthur keeps thrusting until
the boy hisses, arching away.

Arthur cleans them up, doing his best to dress Eames without banging his arm.
It’s been a big day and his pain pills have long since worn off. He makes Eames
lay his head in his lap again until they’re out of his neighbourhood, brushing
his fingers through the short, blonde hair, then he drops him off a few blocks
from home.

“The time kind of got away from us, will your parents be mad?”

Eames leans in through the window. “Nah, they probably won’t even notice.”

Arthur nods, pursing his lips.

“Did you really mean what you said? Those things you want to do to me?” Eames
ears are pink again.

 Arthur smiles. “I rarely say things I don’t mean, Mr. Eames.

They grin at each other from across the car and Arthur regrets not kissing him
goodbye when he had the chance. “You should tell them you’re staying at a
friend’s house this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Eames smirks.

“You have a debt to pay off, Mr. Eames. Today doesn’t nearly cover what I’m
going to have to do to get you to State.”

Eames’ grin falls away. “You were serious about that? You’ll help me?”

Arthur reaches across the car to run his fingers over Eames’ knuckles. “For
you, I’d do just about anything.”


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