Title: sew it like you mean it
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I merely pull their strings.
Rating: R (For dirty images)
Pairing/Characters: Arthur/Eames, Ariadne, Yusuf, Mal/Cobb
Summary: Arthur is a fashion designer, Eames is a fashion critic. Eames goes to Arthur’s show and writes a review that says Arthur has no imagination. Arthur isn't sure that he disagrees.
Warnings: Well, there might be some smut in this chapter ... just maybe. Un-beta'd as well.
Parts 1 // 2
Arthur didn’t a good rest of the day. He spent a good four hours in a meeting with a celebrity who had asked him to make her a dress for a red carpet event and she was just so damn difficult. She wanted all these things that wouldn’t look good on her that Arthur didn’t want to make anyway because he didn’t do tacky and he ended up arguing with her over the design which in turn resulted in him losing the entire commission.
Ariadne kept trying to tell him that there will be others and this was one lost commission in five years and she probably would be a bitch to work with anyway.
This still didn’t improve Arthur’s mood. It stung to lose a commission. It stung to lose at anything and the last two days were just not going well for him at all.
He left the warehouse and headed for a bar deciding a nice quiet meal out would probably make him feel a little bit better. Or at least he could get really drunk … if only that damn “G. Eames” hadn’t written that he didn’t have any imagination. He had imagination, what was wrong with is clothes? People were buying them and he enjoyed what he did. With all his hard work and effort, he was slowly building an empire.
On Monday, Mal had asked him to design three couture looks for a story she wanted to put on in her magazine for the spring. There, he planned to show that “G. Eames” of the New York Times just how much imagination he had by sewing as much color and exuberance as he could stitch into three separate garments.
Ariadne kept trying to get him to come out to dinner with her and her boyfriend, but did he really feel like watching Ariadne and Robert being all lovey-dovey as they inevitably would for an entire evening? No. He stayed at the studio warehouse sketching different designs. He used the city night scape for inspiration. He always loved architecture, the hard lines and solid blocks of color and the pattern of the windows were great for drawing inspiration from …
Damn. He though putting his pencils down. He really did have no imagination. Not that he would ever admit this out loud. He stood up and looked around his space. Gray, gray, gray and more gray with tiny splashes of color peeking out from his closet of custom made fabrics. Those would need to go. He needed to put in more color in this place, but how and what colors to use? His goddamned therapist had been right, he needed to get out more and get inspired by life or at least have more sex. All his repressed desires would be freed and maybe he’d have a more rounded head on his shoulders.
Arthur had a wild idea to go backpacking through India. It was the most colorful place he could think of. He could do that … get out of the New York cold for a couple of weeks. He had enough money … but his job and commissions … damn. The farthest he could go right now, conceivably was Miami. That might have to be enough. It was colorful and warm down there too. Maybe he’s make it a group trip, take the whole damn team, invite Mal and Cobb and their kids … rent a house …
He was getting too far ahead of himself. Feeling overwhelmed, he packed up his drawings and made to leave his studio. There was a nightclub with a bar not three blocks away from here that was loud and always full of people illuminated by intensely bright flashing lights. Ariadne had been there a couple of times and raved about the cocktails. Arthur could do with a distraction right now even if it was completely out of character for him, but right now he was too tired to be himself and still upset by the realization that someone had been accurate in calling him out on his flaws. He felt maddened by the need for change and the fear that he wouldn’t be able to pull it off and stressed people would become bored with his designs as he was beginning to.
Fuck that fashion reporter. Whoever the hell “G. Eames” was, he would get his due. Arthur would stitch fucking rainbows into his next collection. That was, if only to prove to himself that he wasn’t boring.
When he reached the nightclub--called Phantasm--he got in after a short wait at the door, where the bouncer actually asked him for an ID, and headed straight for the bar. Why did he come here again? His thoughts were lost in the loud music and people going crazy on the dance floor. This wasn’t his scene. When he went drinking, he usually went somewhere a little more upscale and quiet where you could enjoy a decent scotch and still think about your work agenda. Here, Arthur couldn’t string together two thoughts let alone think about his schedule for tomorrow.
Good, he didn’t care. Why he was so damned desperate for change, he didn’t know. He was just hurt that he was so scared he wouldn’t be able to find change when he had been this way for so long.
Throughout the course of an hour, Arthur downed three shots and drank two cocktails to chase them down. Ariadne was right, these cocktails were fucking fantastic. The one he was drinking now was a mix of cherry brandy and Japanese whiskey and it was fantastic. He knew there was alcohol in there, but it was pure sweet flavor that he relished and kept drinking. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he would have a killer headache in the morning, but boring, imagination-less Arthur would have prepared for this by drinking several water bottles before the night even began. He would have planned to go drinking days ahead of time. Now, as he liked to call it, Rainbow-receptive Arthur was just going with whatever came next.
“You’re drinking that like it’s water. Must be good,” Came a deep voice form behind him.
Arthur swiveled around on his bar stool to look at who was talking to him. In this state, this man was probably the most attractive man he’d ever seen. He was incredibly handsome, not traditionally, but his features were all so differently attractive that as a whole, made an incredibly sexy male. Arthur tried very hard not to stare at the other man’s fuller-than-life lips. But wait a moment, that was odd … had he seen this man before?
“Do I know you?” Arthur slurred taking a large sip of his drink.
The man smiled. “No, I don’t think so. Let me buy you a drink.” He sat down next to Arthur in an empty stool and ordered the cocktail for the both of them. Arthur downed the rest of his and stared at the man.
“Are you sure? And this isn’t a pick up line or anything--but I feel like I’ve seen you somewh--” And then it hit him, “Oh! You were at my show!” Arthur started laughing, a drunken cackle that was neither attractive nor warranted for the situation.
“Yes, yes, yes, you were that hot guy I saw when I walked out with my model.” More laughter from Arthur as if this realization were the funniest thing in the world.
The bartender came around with their drinks.
“You’ve certainly had a lot to drink if you think I’m hot.” The man put the glass to his lips and drank.
“That is a horrendous shirt.” Arthur said plainly after he finally stopped laughing. “But the rest of you is sexy.” He turned in the bar stool to take the fresh cocktail to his lips and drank deeply. He felt light-headed, but again, he didn’t care.
The man looked down at his shirt and then back at Arthur. “I love this shirt.”
“Excuse me but … not even the decade where that came from loved that shirt.” It was truly horrendous. The man was wearing black slacks, which were fine, but he paired it with this awful green paisley shirt … and he had the gall to have it opened three buttons down the front and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. “Gross,” Arthur finished taking another drink of his cocktail.
The man stared at Arthur as if he were trying not to laugh. “All right, I’ll take it off if it offends you so much,” The man stared at Arthur, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he began to undo the buttons.
Arthur stared, for too long, and he knew that even though he was drunk. He reached out to grab the other man’s hand and clutching it, he said, “No, not here, they might throw you out.”
The man stared around at the people gyrating on the dance floor. “There’s plenty of people here losing clothes, I don’t see why I can’t do the same.” The man smirked at Arthur. God, how Arthur liked those lips, no, he loved them. He loved the way they promised something wicked just by … being attached to this man’s face.
“Since it offends me, I want to be the one to take it off.” Arthur slurred.
The man looked surprised, but pleasantly so. He said, “How’s that for a pick-up line?”
“My therapist says I need to have more sex … what kind of therapist prescribes sex?” Arthur mused, his hand was still wrapped around the other man’s. He took a gulp of cocktail and sighed after he had swallowed it.
The man thought about this for a moment before leaning in to Arthur’s ear and whispering, “A damn good one.”
Arthur lost it. He downed the rest of his cocktail and then stood up from his bar stool and pulled the guy away from the bar and said, “Come on,” To his delight, the man followed, but quickly turned around to the bartender and said, “Put all of our drinks on my tab,” before following Arthur through the crowd and leaving with him.
This was actually happening. This was actually happening. This felt good, just letting things happen. Arthur would later attribute these thoughts to the amount of alcohol he had consumed, but right now if was worth it the way this man was kissing him in the taxi cab on the way to Arthur’s home.
The man gently pushed Arthur to lie down on the soft leather seat and proceeded to kiss him with excruciating slowness and when the cab stopped outside of Arthur’s condominium, left Arthur hot and practically begging for more as the man paid the cab driver and pulled Arthur out and onto the sidewalk.
Holding the other man’s hand, Arthur pulled him through the entryway and pushed him into the elevator where he proceeded to put his hands on either side of the man’s face and crush their lips together. There was no time before they reached Arthur’s fifth floor condo to explore the man’s mouth with his tongue, but oh God those lips were sinful. So large, the top lip practically consumed Arthur’s own top lip and Arthur took the bottom lip between his lips and nibbled on it hungrily. He was doing this. He was actually doing this with a stranger.
When they finally reached Arthur’s bedroom, several articles of Arthur’s clothing were gone, strewn over the floor. Arthur pushed the other man onto his bed and said, “Let’s get this damn shirt off,” And proceeded to pull at the buttons before the shirt was gone. Then came the undershirt and the pants and then Arthur’s pants and subsequently both party’s undergarments fell away too. Arthur wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and shoulders, the weight of him forcing the other man back on top of the bed and a few more heady kisses later, Arthur was below the man panting and hard.
“Where do you keep everything?” The man asked panting. He bent his head down to kiss and bite Arthur’s neck. Arthur moaned.
“In the nightstand,” He said breathlessly. The man’s head was moving downward and he began kissing and sucking on Arthur’s nipples. First the right one, then he slowly more his head to the left. He hands wandered everywhere. Arthur gasped as the man bit down on his left nipple and began to stroke him as well. It must have been the alcohol … how else would Arthur be feeling this intensely? He felt like he was on fire when the man moved his head downward further and began licking his abdomen. Finally the other man moved to pull open Arthur’s nightstand drawer and fish out the necessities--a condom and lubricant. Retrieving these, the man moved his head and hands down Arthur’s body. Arthur gasped and moaned again as the man began licking the top of his penis and after applying some lubricant to his hands, he slowly pushed a finger inside of Arthur and then after what felt like an eternity, another finger, stretching Arthur out.
Arthur wanted to do something for this man, but he was so intensely pleasured that he couldn’t move out from under him. The only movement he accomplished was the bucking of his hips and moving his head back and forth as if that would lessen his feeling of ecstasy.
Another eternity later, the man rose up and covered Arthur with his body, pushing the length of him inside of Arthur. Arthur gasped, the man panted, Arthur could feel his penis, it was hot and pulsing inside of him as if fit to burst. Then he moved and oh God … Arthur fought with his hips to keep their bodies in sync with one another as the man rocked slowly at first and then harder, grasping Arthur’s penis and stroking it in time with his thrusts.
Arthur had never felt better in his life, it had been too damn long since he had done this with anyone and even the last time he had done this, it was quick and easy. But this … oh God, this was so intensely satisfying that when Arthur and the other man finally came, he felt a certain peace with his life that he didn’t know what to make of.
So, he didn’t make anything of it, but instead let the other man pull him into a tight hug and he just lie there underneath his blankets and slept.
- [FIC] sew it like you mean it 3/?