
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/212556.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Inception_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Arthur/Eames_(Inception)
  Character:
      Arthur_(Inception), Eames_(Inception)
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Incest, Kink_Meme, Brothers, Dubious_Consent, Voyeurism,
      Blow_Jobs, Fingerfucking, Anal_Sex, Barebacking, Awkward_Sexual
      Situations
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-06-16 Words: 2423
****** The One Where They're Brothers ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Written for the inception_kink prompt: The one where they're brothers
Notes
     Link to prompt: http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/
     11941.html?thread=26871717#t26871717
Eames was dragged out of a restless sleep by the feeling of another body
slipping into his bed, under the covers, and against his side. He blinked his
eyes open in blurry confusion, trying to figure out what was going on, when he
felt a warm puff of air brush against his chest. Then he heard his little
brother sigh and snuggle a little closer. "I miss the days this used to be how
we always went to sleep," Arthur whispered, voice hushed in the quiet of night.
"Are you alright?" Eames asked in concern, brushing fingers through his
brother's hair. He knows it must be hard for his brother, with the divorce
happening. Eames could escape it - had escaped it for the last two years while
in college. This was his first time home since the fights between his parents
had really started to become vicious. But Arthur wasn't even done high school
yet and couldn't escape. Arthur mumbled something unintelligble against Eames's
bare chest, and Eames tried to contain his shiver. "Is this about the divorce?"
"I missed you," Arthur whispered. "You were gone so long."
"I know," Eames grimaced, his stomach heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry."
"Make it up to me..." Arthur suggested quietly. But before Eames could ask how,
he felt warm, dry lips brush against his skin.
"Whoa Arthur, what the hell?" Eames pushed his brother away, sitting up and
back against his mountain of pillows. His eyes were wide with shock but his
body was tingling with that brief, unexpected contact.
"I missed you," Arthur said again, as if it explained his actions as he gripped
Eames's shoulders and sat himself in Eames's lap. "So much."
"I don't know what you think you're--" Eames was cut off by the insistent press
of chapped lips to his own. Another shocking thrill passed through Eames's body
before he gripped Arthur's shoulders and shoved him back slightly. He didn't
think about how his lips continued tingling wht the phantom weight of his
brother's lips. "What are you doing?"
"It's not fair!" Arthur scowled, eyes darker than normal in the shadow of
night. Eames could see in the pale moonlight that Arthur had slid into his bed
in only his boxers. The rest of the highschooler's skin was bare and pale and
untarnished. Eames didn't remember his restraint soon enough to keep himself
from skimming a few curious fingers over the skin presented to him. Arthur
shivered under his touch. "I've come to the thought of you touching me, fu--
fucking me," Arthur stuttered when he rolled his hips against Eames, "so many
times. But it's always someone else who gets to have you."
Eames's heart was beating as though he had just run a marathon. He quickly
withdrew his fingers agian, now that he remembered exactly what situation he
was in. Arthur - his little brother, Arthur - was in his lap, rutting a quickly
forming erection against Eames's thigh, talking about...about stuff Eames
didn't want to think about, but that his body was definitely responding to. He
couldn't help it, couldn't help imagining it. But... "I don't understand. Are
you drunk?" Why was Arthur saying this stuff?
"Eames." The way Arthur said his name made it sound like he was being
pathetically slow. "The first time I jerked off and come spilled over my
fingers, your name was what I yelled into my pillow." Arthur placed his hands
on Eames's shoulders again, either to keep him place, or for stability as he
began rutting harder. Eames's lips parted in surprise, but the little whimper
of air was definitely blamed on an unwanted lust building in him. "I knew it
was wrong, so I started watching porn to think of something else. But then
everything I watched, I just imagined us."
"Arthur--" Eames wasn't sure if it the name was said in protest, or a prompt to
continue. He didn't get a chance to say more anyway.
Arthur's lips were on his again, for just a moment. Arthur was much more
skilled at kissing than Eames thought any highschooler had the right to be.
"When I watched some guy finger fuck another guy, I jerked off to the thought
of you doing that to me. Wondered what it would feel like to have your big
fingers shoved inside me, stretching me." Arthur was panting against his lips
now, their foreheads pressed together. Eames couldn't bring himself to stop
this. His curiosity and lust were burning. "I used my own fingers a few times,
but it wasn't the same."
"Arthur, darling--
His little brother was shaking his head, a red flush visible on his cheeks. At
the same time, Arthur let out a little moan and pressed closer against him.
Eames fell silent again, feeling cornered and not nearly as scared as he
should. “And then you fucked that guy in the basement at the party you had for
finishing highschool. Fuck, I never came harder than when I watched you suck
him off and fuck him.”
“Fuck.” Eames could barely remember that encounter, his memories hazy with
alcohol. But the thought of Arthur watching...
“Watching your thick cock slamming in and out of him? Oh fuck, Eames...” Arthur
moaned into the air between them. “That’s all I want. Please.”
Eames was hard, his cock twitching and leaking into his pants. And he was
guilty and terrified, but his heart was racing. “Arthur, we can’t...”
“Why not?” Arthur questioned sadly as he began rocking his own erection against
him, noticing his interest.
“It’s...wrong...” Eames ground out, barely conscious of his hands rising to
hold Arthur’s hips. He meant to stop his brother’s movements in his lap before
this went any further, but he couldn’t quite remember why something that felt
this good could be bad. His hands began to lead Arthur’s movements.
“Pleasure is pleasure,” Arthur argued. “Please, let me feel your cock in me,
Eames. I’ve come to the thought so many times before. I need to know—need to
feel before I lose you.”
“Lose me?” Eames asked, trying to focus through a haze of arousal as he began
to rut Arthur against him at a more insistent pace. This was so wrong. So
wrong. So...good.
“Mary,” his little brother spat the name as his explanation, mentioning the
girl that had recently caught Eames's attention back on campus.
“Arthur...” Eames brushed stray fingers through matted black hair, feeling
arousal and concern battle for dominance. “I’ll always be your brother.”
And then Arthur said something that broke Eames. “She doesn’t get to feel your
cock if I don’t.”
All Eames could do was groan as Arthur slid off his lap and yanked Eames’s
pyjama pants down. “Arthur—fuck—!” Eames’s final protest cut out as he watched
the narrow, sarcastic lips of his little brother stretch around the swollen
flesh of his cock. And even though Eames knew this was wrong, he couldn’t bring
himself to care any longer as he thrust up into the hot suction of Arthur’s
mouth.
Arthur pulled his mouth away with a wet pop noise, watching Eames with shadowed
eyes. “If I’m a good enough fuck, will you stay with me?” he questioned,
seemingly rhetorically when he dropped his mouth back down to Eames’s length
without waiting for an answer. “Will we sleep in the same bed? Will you fuck me
to sleep and leave your come in me so that you can fuck me again in the
morning?” Increasingly dirty questions fell from Arthur’s lips, which were
shimmering with spit, as he licked Eames’s leaking cock.
Eames shoved Arthur away but ignored the hurt look he received for the action.
He reached for his bedside table and pulled out a small tube of lube. “You want
to know what it feels like for me to finger fuck you, pet?” Eames asked darkly,
squeezing some liquid onto his fingers.
“Yes,” Arthur moaned.
“Then get rid of those boxers.”
Arthur’s eyes widened. It would have been funny if the air wasn’t so hot and
heavy. Arthur scrambled out of his boxers and pulled Eames’s away as well. “Now
what? Teach me, big brother,” Arthur pleaded. “Please.”
Eames didn’t bother ignoring how those words made his cock twitch in the open
air. “Get up here,” he motioned Arthur up the bed and then turned him around.
“Now keep putting that smart mouth to work,” he demanded, pushing Arthur’s head
back down towards his cock. Arthur’s own cock, smaller with age, was already
leaking against Eames’s chest while his little brother’s ass was rutting back
towards him while he swallowed Eames up again.
“I want it hard, Eames,” Arthur requested through a mouthful of cock. “Like you
fucked that guy down in the basement. I want it hard like how I watched you and
had the best orgasm of my life.”
Eames only paused for a minute to remember that this was Arthur, his little
brother, above him. Then he placed one hand on his ass to steady him and
slipped two slicked fingers into Arthur to the first knuckle. Arthur’s mouth
came off his cock quickly as an indecently loud groan escaped. “Like that, yes.
Fuck me.”
Arthur thrust his ass back onto Eames’s fingers, breath stuttering along with
Eames’s own as his fingers disappeared into that tight heat. “Fuck Arthur.”
Arthur kept moaning as his hole took Eames in. Eames thrust his two fingers in
and out a few times before scissoring them, egged on by the sounds his brother
was making. He couldn’t believe how much of a thrill that thought gave him, how
wrong he was to be turned on by this whole situation.
His brother taking his fingers. His brother sucking his cock like a pro. His
brother soon to be impaled on his aching cock. “Eames, I can’t wait. I need
your cock,” Arthur begged, hot moist breath and a few weak licks on Eames’s
cock. “Fuck me, Eames. Make me yours, the way I want you to. Make me feel you
tomorrow, and the day after.”
Eames thrust a third finger in as his body buzzed with anticipation. But
suddenly, Arthur was crying out loudly enough that Eames had to use his free
hand to muffle his mouth. And then there was a slick heat pooling on Eames’s
stomach and he looked down. Arthur had come all over him and was still
thrusting back on his fingers, which were gaping his clenching hole.
“Arthur...”
“C’mon, do it anyway,” Arthur demanded as his whole body shuddered. “I want to
come with your cock in me.” He hated himself, but Eames pulled his fingers out
and quickly rearranged their position. “Yeah, like the guy in the basement,”
Arthur praised as Eames moved him onto his hands and knees, Eames kneeling
behind him.
It felt so impersonal. And even though this shouldn’t be personal at all, it
was already too personal, it felt odd to take his brother from behind. Eames’s
thoughts ground to a halt again at that thought. But it was true. He loved
Arthur...in a way. But Arthur seemed pleased, rubbing back against Eames’s cock
while he lubed himself up. “You’re sure?”
“Fuck yeah, I need this. Need to feel that cock I thought about so much. Need
you--!” Arthur cut off like the wind had been knocked from him when Eames
carefully pressed the head of his cock in. Arthur sobbed. Eames worried he had
hurt him, but Arthur’s hand swung back and hooked on his hip, pulling him in
deeper. “Yeah, your perfect thick cock. Always wondered what it’d feel like to
stretch me open like this...” Arthur confessed under his breath. “Better than I
imagined.”
Eames didn’t know what to say to that. ‘I’m glad’ was too awkward, and
something dirty in return would be too crass for his younger brother. So
instead he just pulled back and thrust in hard.  He tried to think of the guy
in the basement that night, hot beneath him in a haze of alcohol. But he liked
to run his fingers over Arthur’s pale skin too much to fool himself. So when he
started a hard pace, slamming his cock into Arthur’s hole again and again, he
didn’t kid himself when he reached around and felt Arthur’s cock in his hand,
hard again.
He could tell neither of them would last long. Arthur was clenching around him
expertly, pulling Eames into a more frantic pace, slamming against his
brother’s prostate with each deep thrust. Arthur was also riling Eames up into
a frenzy with his words, never shutting that mouth of his. It was all Eames
could do to hold on and ride out his pleasure as Arthur bucked back, taking him
balls deep, then forward into his fist. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Arthur was
hissing again and again. “Fill me. I want to feel my brother’s come fill me.
Want to have what those ungrateful bastards had.”
“Arthur...” Eames groaned, not knowing if it was to scold Arthur for his words
or insist he continue talking. It didn’t matter either way as Eames felt his
body tense. There was a rush of heat through his body as he felt his come spill
into Arthur’s body, which also began to spasm beneath him.
“Say my name again,” Arthur moaned desperately.
“Arthur,” Eames whispered, uncaring now as he stroked Arthur through his orgasm
while spilling the final ropes of his own hot come into Arthur’s body. Soon
they both collapsed, Eames sliding out of Arthur’s body and rolling to the side
slightly not to crush the younger man’s form.
Arthur’s come was still coating his palm and sticking to his fingers. He wiped
it off on his thigh absentmindedly as Arthur curled up against him on top of
the sheets. “We can’t do that again.”
Arthur’s eyes blinked open tiredly. “Why not? If it was so wrong we shouldn’t
have done it in the first place.”
“We shouldn’t have,” Eames stressed.
Arthur pouted. “I wasn’t a good enough fuck to keep you?”
Eames grit his teeth. “It doesn’t matter...”
Arthur grinned. “Or was I such a good fuck you’re just scared to admit it?”
“Just shut up and go to sleep,” Eames grumbled, feeling the fight leave him in
his post orgasm haze. They would talk about this again in the morning when he
was more coherent and determined and less sated. For now, he grudgingly allowed
Arthur to curl up under his arm once they had slipped back under the blankets.
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