1lostone | Almost Without Expectation: | NC-17| 20k

“Mr. Eames?”

Eames jumped hard enough to jar his knee against the desk. He barely caught the bottle of water with a low curse before it tipped over onto the tablet. He rolled his eyes under the sunglasses. Even though it had been three weeks since Arthur had quit Dreamshare Studios, the sound of Eames’ name with the ‘Mister’ in front of it never failed to get his heart thudding in his chest. Not that he expected much, really. Quite the opposite. Arthur had made it clear that he wanted nothing whatsoever to do with Eames.

It wasn’t like Eames could blame him, really. It wasn’t Arthur’s fault that Eames had figured out that he turned into a teenage girl whenever the younger man’s name was mentioned. Thank god Mal was distracted with some project or other and couldn’t harp on him over the spectacular fuck-up he’d managed to accomplish. It was so beyond ridiculous to fall in love with one of your fellow porn stars. It was even more ridiculous to be … hurt that they didn’t seem to care for you back.

Eames hadn’t heard much about his and Arthur’s outside commissioned project. He supposed that everything turned out okay; he’d received his money to his account with very little fuss. In fact, he’d treated himself to a night out on the town. The hangover had been worth seeing his name on TMZ. Eames wasn’t quite sure who the little hipster twink that the photog had caught grinding against him on the dance floor was, but it had gotten him out of his own head for awhile.

Mal had seemed utterly furious at him though. She had blazed into his room and yelled some almost incomprehensible mix of French and English, shrieking at the top of her bloody lungs, then had stomped out before Eames had quite figured out what the fuck was going on, still half-drunk from the night before.

“Mr. Eames? Mal wants you on set.”

Eames nodded, shaking his head at his own thoughts. “Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute, love. Thanks.” Ariadne gave him a small smile and disappeared. Eames sighed, stretching and standing up. He wrapped a robe around his naked body and quickly muted his phone, leaving it on the small desk by his bag. He only had two more scenes left with Dom, and then he could go home.

Only two more scenes.

Eames caught a glimpse of his body in the mirror and sighed. He still looked amazing of course. He hadn’t gone off in a complete snit; drinking and pouting over Arthur’s leaving like he had done when Eames found out that Arthur was quitting. Still- he’d had… issues.

Issues such as starting to lose his hard-on when he looked down and saw Dom’s sweaty face instead of Arthur’s. Issues such as having to wank himself so his stupid dick would stay interested enough to complete the scene. Hell, he’d even resorted to Robert blowing him a couple of times after he found out that the Viagra made him sick. That had been okay. Robert had slicked back his hair from the shower, and even though Mal had rolled her eyes at having to be the first pornography studio to actually use a fluffer since the early 90’s, it had been easy enough for Eames to picture Arthur on his knees in front of him, his dark head bent to its task.

Eames sighed again. It was bloody embarrassing that he had to sodding fantasize about someone else in order to do his job. Thank god no one had figured it out, or Mal would laugh herself into a coma. Eames had a sneaking suspicion that Mal had figured out that Eames’ new feelings regarding his job. Instead of being something that he was justifiably proud of, his skill at fucking was now just something to get through, before he could go home and start channel surfing.

He reached into the robe and cupped his dick, closing his eyes. It didn’t take much. Eames could remember almost every single minute of that night. With a quick bite of his bottom lip, Eames remembered Arthur’s desperation when Eames fucked him with the plug, remembered the way Arthur had moaned and cursed at him, the way his fingers had dug into Eames’ shoulder…. A couple of strokes and Eames was ready to go out onto set.

*****
“Uhhgnn. Fuck!”

Eames pulled out of Dom with a startled jerk of his hips. Had he really seen-- no. Surely not. The flash in the mirrored wall couldn’t have been Arthur. He was losing his sodding mind.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Er.. sorry,mate. We can go again.”

Dom’s raised eyebrow spoke volumes. Eames frowned, slapped Dom’s arse cheek and looked back to check with Mal before sliding back inside his slick, wet heat. Eames squinted, trying to see in the depths of the murky darkness where the rest of the crew lurked with their cameras and sound equipment. Mal was easily identifiable by her red shirt and was turned away from him, speaking to someone whose profile was in shadow. Eames heard the direction to start again, and started thrusting, bending over to kiss at Dom’s shoulder like the script called for.

Dom started moaning again, and Eames rolled his eyes, hiding his face between Dom’s shoulderblades. The condom was too tight and pulled at his pubic hair, causing him to wince. He hated those things. One thing that was nice about working at Dreamshare was that Mal maintained that the few who worked there were regularly tested. She maintained that they were as safe as they could be. Still, he didn’t particularly want his dick in Dom’s arse, now did he? So he put up with the rubber. But damn, was the bloody thing uncomfortable.

Dom moaned when Eames tried a little circular shimmy, and Eames smirked a little when he felt Dom’s arse clench in reaction to his movement. Dom fell forward on his elbows, jarring Eames, throwing him slightly off-balance. Dom made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as gravity forced Eames’ cock the rest of the way inside of him. Eames saw a glint of light and looked up at the mirror again, freezing like a deer in headlights.

Arthur?!

Arthur stood there, dressed impeccably in a suit. His hair was slicked back and he was sipping from a metallic coffee mug. It had been the mug that must have flashed in the lights, catching Eames’ attention in the mirror. Arthur had taken a step out of the shadows, and the look on his face was carefully blank.

Dom pushed back and Eames snapped back to attention, remembering exactly where he was. The camera was right under his arse, getting a good shot of him pushing inside of Dom. Dom’s moans were like white noise. He could smell the sex and sweat in the air, but he still felt detached from everything. All Eames could see was Arthur’s face, watching as his eyes narrowed slightly as Dom’s cries grew louder.

“And cut!”

Eames pulled out with a wet sound, pulling off the rubber and tossing it into the bin Robert held up for him. He shrugged into his robe and turned, taking a step towards Mal and Arthur, feeling his mouth stretch into a terribly fake smile.

Some emotion flickered over Arthur’s face as his small, dark gaze darted quickly up and down Eames’ body. Eames had prepared himself to ignore the way his throat tightened when he saw Arthur again. It wasn’t like Arthur hadn’t seen him hard before. What he hadn’t expected was the hurt that hit him like a punch to the gut when Arthur looked away.

Mal frowned.

“Yeah, well I’m afraid that won’t work, Mal.” Arthur leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Eames felt his grin start to dim as he realized that Arthur didn’t even have the stones to talk to him. “I have a flight. I was just coming back to tie up some loose ends, but now I can see that there really aren’t any loose ends to tie up.”

Mal huffed out a breath. “Non. I’m afraid that simply won’t work. You must meet me for dinner at the very least. We have much to discuss, and I simply can’t let you go until we’ve talked. Eames, did you want to join us?”

Arthur still wouldn’t look directly at him, a fact that really didn’t sit well with Eames. Conversely, he continued to stare directly at Arthur with the ridiculously toothy grin on his face, waiting for the smaller man’s response. He stretched, knowing that his cock was still half-hard, peeking through his robe. The sight didn’t cause Mal to bat an eyelash. Seeing men walking around half-dressed, and partially exposed was pretty much par for the course. Even the Fed Ex guy hardly noticed anymore. Eames was delighted to see that it caused a bright flush to pinken Arthur’s pale cheeks.

“No. I have plans.” He didn’t. But damned if he was going to try to suffer through a meal, playing nice while Mal and Arthur talked. “Will have to take a rain-check. Talk to you later, Mal, Arthur.” Just to be a dick, Eames held out his hand, for Arthur to shake. “Nice to see you again. I think I’m off for a shower, and some lunch. You don’t need me back until three, right?”

Eames caught a glimpse of something on Mal’s face that was gone too quickly for him to identify. He tried not to shiver at the feel of Arthur’s strong, capable grip, as his fingers closed around his. The shook exactly three times before jerking back their hands.

“I suppose not. We can wrap with Dom later.”

“Fantastic. See you then.” Eames wiggled his fingers and took off, winking at Arthur just because he could. If he didn’t think Arthur would break his fingers, he would have leaned over to pinch his cheek. As he walked away, he carefully avoided looking at either Mal or Arthur. It wasn’t as easy to ignore the way his heart felt like he’d stabbed himself. It was stupid to be upset. Obviously, Arthur hadn’t attached any special significance to their time together. He’d very carefully put Eames in the “job well done, now walk away” category. Eames could do the same.

Eventually.

I've tried blocking this thing three FUCKING times &
I really need another set of eyes. I'll bring the coffee.(6:23 pm)

And don't tell me you actually have plans.
I know you're full of SHIT. (6:24 pm).

Eames looked down at the two texts, lips twitching in a grin. Mal swore like a sailor, and the fact that all the swear words were capitalized just made it funnier. He quickly texted back:

Sure, darling. Cya then. xx (6:32 pm)

and darted a quick glance at the clock. It was already almost seven. It wasn’t the first time Mal had called, requesting that he bring a different perspective to what she was shooting. In fact, Eames had been writing most of the scripts (such as they were- some were pretty straight forward, but some had been marketed as actual movies, with much more of a plot than the straight-up porn.) more and more frequently while Mal worked with other films.

Eames had just enough time to shower, get dressed and drive over there.

Next