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A Love Story, Only Partly About Coffee

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There's always been one rule in Arthur and Eames' relationship (actually there were many but Arthur could think of one which topped them all). No-one was allowed to disturb Arthur while he drank his first cup of coffee in the morning. Eames often prepared it, they'd talk sometimes just before the man handed over the mug, but once Arthur had that cup in his hands the rest of the world did not exist. It was his moment, his one moment of peace. Entirely his own, he'd take the newspaper and his coffee and he would read in silence for half an hour before putting the newspaper down and engaging Eames in their plans for the day.

Now, Eames, being the attention-seeking man that he is (Not really attention-seeking, darling. I'm afraid I've just gotten too used to being attention-finding), had at first a hard time understanding the importance of this rule. He found out about its existence on their first morning after, which had Eames trying to make up for their previous almost-morning-after disaster when he ran away.

 

Arthur has woken early; a combination of the dazzling sunlight and the chorus line, compliments of his hangover, which had taken up residence in his mind. The sight of a deeply sleeping Eames had gone a long way to calming his sense of imbalance but Arthur knew the only way to truly push the haze back would be industrial strength coffee. Unwilling to leave his apartment in the search of real espresso, he pulls the sheet he'd somehow cocooned himself in tighter around his shoulders and plods into the kitchen.

The gurgling noise of his percolator and the smell of the fresh grounds brings him back to himself just enough that he has begun contemplating the possibilities of bagels when Eames appears half tripping over his own feet in his rush.

"No, no, no, darling. You need to get your lovely self to bed and let me make you breakfast, this is only step one of my plan."

He wraps himself around Arthur's back and trails kisses up his neck. Or at least he tries to, since Arthur huffs and pushes him away.

"Let me be, Eames. I just want some coffee."

Oh please god let him have one cup of coffee, just one and then the man can throw him over his shoulder like a caveman and do whatever he wants, but it has to be after coffee. He needs these twenty minutes to decompress, he needs the ritual, needs the surety that comes from his day always having this one moment. Always, no matter what incredible specimen of manhood is plastered to his back slightly like a limpet.

"Just twenty minutes of quiet and a cup of coffee and i'll be all yours, I swear."

"But, Arthur." Eames sighs and hugs Arthur harder. "Let me do this for you, please."

"Eames, you're not getting it. I can't function without coffee. I don't want to function without coffee."

"Wait, are you being serious right now?"

Arthur just wants to bang his head on the counter, but instead he unclasps Eames' arms from around his waist and gets a mug from the cupboard.

"Look here's the deal, I have morning rules. There are three pretty much but there is one which is never broken and that is that when I have made coffee," Arthur uses the mug to point towards the perculator. "Then I must drink the coffee and once the coffee has been drunk I can start my day."

Eames crosses his arms in a move which screams of defense. Arthur knows he can be sharp before his coffee, this is why no one is supposed to talk to him before his coffee, because he's bloody rude.

"What are the other two rules?"

"No, Eames, it's fine, you clearly don't get it. I'll just drink my coffee in bed."

"No, Arthur. You need to explain because this is not the only time I'm going to be waking up with you and this is important. Everything about this is important because I don't want you throwing me out of here just when I've managed to work my way back in again. So tell me."

"Alright, well the second one is simple enough; don't talk to me when I'm brushing my teeth. I hate that and it's so undignified. The third, don't mess with my tie system, it's been perfected. It's indexed and if you mess with it Eames, so help me, I will know and I will end you."

There's a genuine level of threat in his voice at the end, they really shouldn't be having this conversation before his coffee. He's supposed to be welcoming, not threatening his newly returned lover. God, it's no wonder he ran the first time, he was such a mess, what sort of man threatened someone over ties. Eames nods and exhales sharply.

"I... Ok. I just. I'm not a morning person, I just wanted to do this for you. But this works, I guess. I'll wait here and let you finish"

And he sits down and starts fiddling his thumbs. He literally fiddles his thumbs and looks down. Arthur can't believe him, but he's not going to let Eames' reaction distract him from the hot, fragrant, perfect cup of coffee in front of him.

But Eames is shit at patience, he'd thought this through when Joe had driven him back from the building sight the night before, he'd make this morning perfect. He'd eradicate the memory of that shitty first morning by being considerate and wonderful this time. He digs his thumbnail into the fleshy bit of the opposite thumb. If Arthur needed coffee in the morning that was ok, he could work around that. Eames coughs slightly from his seat at the breakfast bar, Arthur sighs slightly before looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Hi, sorry, just a question. Once you've finished the coffee anything goes right?"

Arthur shrugs in response, he's given up on speaking. He's savoring the bitter flavored liquid which was mildly scalding his tongue.

"I'm taking the shrug as confirmation. Ok, I can work with this."

His mood improved to a high degree, the designer wanders into the bedroom and considers the unmade bed which forms the centre of the space, a focal point certainly; it is afterall the most highly stylized thing in the room. It's a bland and utilitarian space except for the bed, all dark wood. He ran his fingers over the highly varnished surface, he could work with this. He could work with the twenty minutes as well, there was nothing better to build the anticipation. Now what did his Darling say about ties?

Eames calls through from the bedroom once again when Arthur is half way through his coffee, something about would he be willing to be flexible with the ties. Arthur doesn't care in that moment, he's in a coffee haze, it's a beautiful place somewhere between responsibilities and the lethargy of sleep.

He calls back that Eames can do whatever the fuck he wants before saying something in french that of course the man understands because he's bloody perfect. Arthur ignores the rummaging sounds of coming from his bedroom and leans against the kitchen counter, he lets the sheet drop down lower on his back to provide a barrier between his skin and the chill of the work surface. Coffee is his luxury, real coffee, not that crap Dom provides on set, real coffee, it makes him feel like a hedonist. He sighs and closes his eyes. Eames, I swear to god, if you weren't so fucking hot and charming, I would have you committed.

Arthur smiles into his mug and inhales, the coffee aroma warming him up more than any amount of lightning on set ever could. He finishes the last gulp of coffee and opens his eyes sharply.

"Not flexible at all, Eames. Get away from my closet in this instant!"

Eames pokes his head out of the walk in with a mildly manic look in his eyes. "

But Darrrrrrrling look at all your lovely suits and these ties."

"Yes they are lovely, they're lovely and organised. Now come away quietly or i'll make you."

"Oooooooh promise?"

Eames waggles his eyebrows and quickly dips behind the doors again. Arthur laughs because after coffee the world is a better place, he can see the humor in their conversation. God bless coffee.

"Come on Eames, I thought you wanted breakfast. Leave the ties alone and come make me food."

"Ah ah I have a better idea petal, you should join me in your closet."

Arthur mutters about already coming out of the closet once but Eames just chuckles. Arthur goes up to the closet's threshold and crosses his arms.

"Come on, Arthur, love. There must be a couple ties you don't like that could be put to better uses."

Arthur smiles and there's definitely a hint of dimple. "Better uses, huh?"

Eames smirks and pins Arthur's wrists up to the wall.

"Yes, darling. A lot better."

He kisses Arthur's throat and gets one knee in between Arthur's thighs. Arthur closes his eyes and goes limp in Eames' hold.

"The green and blue striped one. Dom gave it to me last year for my birthday. It's hideous."

Eames growls lightly into the curve of Arthur's throat. "This is going to be fun Darling, do you trust me?"

"Sure, on a good day."

Eames uses two fingers under his chin to force him to bare his throat further, Arthur feels teeth lightly tracing his jaw and can't stop a small shiver at the feeling. Eames uses the sheet to pull him closer.

"This tie darling?" Arthur nods, a little breathless already. "Look at you pet, you're so beautiful like this Arthur."

Arthur feels the blush spreading across his cheeks as he glances down at the floor again, Eames uses the hand not gripping the sheet to push the wayward curl off his forehead. The kisses start again, they're small and innocent. Butterfly kisses covering every part of his face Eames can see, Arthur's eyelids flutter closed as he feels the man kiss the tip of his nose. He feels the man's next move rather than seeing it, his sheet is pulled away from his body slightly and Eames voice is in his ear, whispered terms of endearment rolling off his tongue with his glorious accent.

Eames bites lightly at the edge of Arthur's jaw, he moves his hands to grip his Darling's hips, noticing the definite interest both their bodies are showing in his progress. He whips the tie off its perch and pushes Arthur out of the closet towards the bed once more. The man doesn't seem to want to open his eyes but Eames can't have that, not when his love has the most beautiful eyes.

"Look at me, love." Arthur's breath stutters as he complies. "There you are, tell me, darling, has your coffee energized you?" Arthur nods. "Hmm good, that's good.Tell me, darling," Eames wraps the two ends of the silk tie around each of his palms, pulling it tight between them. Arthur tracks his movement before glancing back to Eames, he licks his lips and Eames smirks. "Do you want to play?"

Arthur's skin breaks out in goosebumps and he nods, moaning softly.

"Yes." And then, almost like an afterthought, "Please."

Eames smirks and pushes Arthur back until his legs knock against the bed. Arthur sits and then lets himself fall slowly until he's lying down. Eames climbs over him, nips at his ear lightly and then whispers

"Yeah, pet. I've got you."

Arthur exhales loudly through his nose, trying to relax. He's wired up and Eames gets off him, crawls up the bed towards the headboard and sits.

"Come closer, Arthur. I can't tie you if you're all the way there."Arthur moves up the bed until he's knelt beside Eames. "The question is what would you like to do?"

"Anything." Arthur breaths out, he's mesmerized by the way Eames is running the tie through his fingers, across his hands, he's always loved those hands.

"Ah ah, petal," Eames shakes his head drawing Arthur's attention away from the tie, "You're in charge, lie back."

Arthur does and he's amazed at how quickly Eames manages to secure him to the headboard. He's only done something like this once before in college, his partner; some guy he met in class, had pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and Arthur would have rolled his eyes in disgust if it hadn't been for the fact they were both already naked and half hard. But here and now, faced with a fully dressed Eames with a dark twinkle in his eye Arthur doesn't think the two experiences could be compared in anyway. The handcuffs had been a joke; just like their owner, but this, here and now, with Eames this was everything.

He feels himself panic slightly at the magnitude of this moment, not the fact Eames is promising to tie him or anything about the sex that would surely follow. The fact is he'd tried for so long to make himself forget Eames that now he was here, leaning over Arthur; so close he could smell him, taste him if he craned his neck in the right way. This was everything.

"You alright, Arthur? You look a little spooked. I can undo you if you don't like it love. No harm."

"No, don't!" Arthur knows he sounds panicked but it's not about their positions, he trusts Eames. He always has, even when he broke his heart he still trusted him, deep, deep down.

"Arthur, pet, talk to me."

It's ridiculous how serious Eames looks considering their positions, he's still wearing that ridiculously fitted sweater and all Arthur wants is to tear it off him and have the man ravish him but he knows he can't. First off he's already securely fastened but also Eames won't let this drop. The man would convince himself he'd pressured Arthur in some way if he didn't explain.

"I just, I can't believe you're here and I'm here and that this is real. I wish there was some way to prove i'm not dreaming."

"Would you like me to pinch you, darling, because I will." Sure enough Eames rolls Arthur's nipple lightly between two fingers forcing the man to arch his back into the contact. "Of course it's real petal and if it's not, I'm not sure I'd want to wake up."

"No, I don't think I want to. I want to lose myself in you." Eames is kissing him again, his lips against Arthur's neck and collarbone, "I just want it to be you Eames, you and this, us."

He feels the man's smile against his chest, feels his tongue tracing the edge of one of Arthur's pecks. Arthur is shifting slightly under the onslaught of feeling but he loves it. Loves the heaviness of Eames balanced across his hips, loves feeling the man's strength as he runs his hands over his ribs and squeezes his sides.

"I can make you forget, pet, just close your eyes for me."

Arthur hesitates, he thinks part of him wants to watch, wants to witness Eames worshiping his body with his mouth but he doesn't think he can handle it. Not really.

So he lets his head fall back, lets himself close his eyes and give his body over to Eames for this short period of time. He loses control when Eames runs his nails down the undersides of his arms, bucking his hips so his erection brushes against Eames shirt.

"Please Eames, please I don't, I can't." He's babbling now but he can't take the teasing. Eames has been taking his time to map his body with his mouth but he's avoided anywhere that would provide him with enough stimulation for orgasam. Arthur thinks he's going crazy.

"Say it again Darling."

Arthur starts muttering please under his breath, he's nearly sobbing when Eames finally takes him in his mouth. Then it's all quick movements and hard suction and he's lost. Lost in the pleasure of the moment and the action. He misses Eames' harsh pants of breath, the sound of the man's zipper being lowered before he quickly brings himself to a climax just as dramatic as Arthur's, if less extended.

Arthur comes back to himself in stages, feeling warm and hazy. His brain feels mushy still, and he blinks slowly, taking in his surroundings. He feels loose and relaxed, and Eames' breath in his nape makes his skin tingle.

"Welcome back, pet." Eames whispers against his ear.

He caresses Arthur's side lightly, and Arthur looks down to see that Eames is using Dom's ugly tie to leave goosebumps in its wake. Arthur smiles and turns around, searching Eames' lips blindly. Eames gives him a peck at first and then kisses him again, bites his bottom lip and tugs softly. "

Would you like to play again, darling?"

Arthur throws an arm around Eames waist and kisses him again. "

What I really," kiss "really," kiss. "really want" kiss "is coffee."

"Coffee, huh?" Eames chuckles. 

Arthur smiles and rolls to his own side of the bed. "Yes, coffee. And a proper breakfast. I seem to recall you wanted to get me breakfast? It was step one of some plan?"

Eames gets up and goes off to the kitchen. "Oh it was, it just so happens we managed to skip some steps and get down to step 17." Arthur covers his eyes with his hand and laughs.

"Seventeen? Just how many steps are there in this plan of yours, Mr Eames?"

"Now, now, Arthur. I'm not at liberty to disclose that information. Where would the fun be in that?" Eames shouts from the kitchen, as he lights the stove and gets breakfast running.

Arthur decides Eames can't cook when he burns nearly everything he touches, Arthur wrestles the coffee pot out of his hands while trying to figure out which of the teas he owns Eames won't hate. Eames is whistling while he argues with the stove top. The plate of food he produces is basically inedible but there's bacon, which looks cooked if a little crispy and arthur layers it on top of a mostly burnt piece of toast and watches Eames grin when he takes a bite. It's disgusting but when chased with coffee bearable.

It's also the best morning and breakfast Arthur has ever had.