PURPLE STAIN

AN INCEPTION FANFICTION

PAIRING: Arthur x Eames

AUTHOR: Djap

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the boys and I won't make any money with them

LANGUAGE: English

BETA: Neenabluegirl – thanks for your great work with this.

GENRE: Romance, First Time, h/c

RATING: NC 17

A/N: Although it looks like it at some points, this story is no S/M story. Arthur has to work through some of his issues and Eames hangs on for the ride. As I despise noncon stories, this is not, even if it might look like that at one point or another. Please feel warned, this is not my usual style.

…

Purple stain

a Djap story

…

The first time it happened Arthur was working late again. He also had skipped lunch – again – and Eames was obviously the only one who'd realized that much. If that wasn't already odd in itself, Arthur didn't know what else was.

Arthur had been concentrating fiercely on their latest mark's financial status when he saw out of the corner of his eye Eames approaching his desk. He brought a bag of donuts with him, which made very mouth watering sounds whenever the Brit moved. But Arthur was determined not to eat anything as he got tired whenever he ate and he really needed to finish his work before doing so.

When Eames reached his desk his only way of greeting was to plant his lower backside on Arthur's desk. He opened the donut bag and offered it to Arthur, who shook his head in annoyance.

"You really need to eat something. You're too thin, darling."

"My weight is perfectly fine and really not your business. Not everybody needs to nurture a bulk like yours to be efficient." Arthur answered sourly, always hating whenever someone commented on his weight. He had the figure of a runner, so what? That doesn't mean he was weak.

Eames just grinned, because he was who he was, totally ignoring the fact that his presence wasn't wished for.

"Everybody else has been gone for hours and you also could use a break, Arthur. You're pushing yourself too much."

"Who are you? My mother?" Arthur snorted.

"Look, I even bought your favorite." Eames lifted a chocolate chip donut out of the bag and if Arthur was surprised that Eames actually knew his favorite kind of donut, he made sure not to show it.

Instead he looked away and murmured: "I don't care and I'm not hungry. Now get lost."

Eames feigned being hurt "You wound me, darling. One would think you didn't want me around with you always sending me away."

Arthur just looked at him pointedly, causing Eames' grin to broaden even further. Only a little more and he'd be smirking in a circle. He actually looked as if he had swallowed a clown.

Eames put the bag down and took one donut out which was Eames' favorite kind. They were filled with vanilla pudding and had citron icing. Arthur knew all this without needing to look at the sweet, because he was the point man and was supposed to know those things. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

Eames started eating and managed to get crumbs all over Arthur's papers.

"Eames. Go away." Arthur grunted, trying to save his precious notes. Eames totally ignored it and started making those small noises back in his throat that spoke of total bliss. He looked positively post-coital after the first two bites and it was getting worse.

Arthur really couldn't stand it, so suddenly he sprang up and closed his fists around Eames wrists. The conman looked mildly surprised by it, but totally unconcerned as he lifted an eyebrow in silent question. It infuriated Arthur even more, so he tightened his fists even more. He put his right feet against the leg of his desk and with one sharp, surely hurtful pull he separated Eames from his working place.

Eames didn't even put up a fight once. He didn't help him, but neither did he stop him. He just stood there, staring at their connected hands, a smile of wonder on his face, crumbs of the donut still at the corner of his mouth. Arthur pulled his hands back as if they burned, then he grabbed the donut bag and shoved it at Eames, who obediently took it. Another shove, that turned the conman around and he finally walked away from a panting and furious Arthur.

After the incident Arthur got back to work, sometime later falling asleep on his notes. When he woke up it was already morning again. It was Dom who woke him, softly chiding him for working so late. The others were there too while Yusuf was setting the table for their shared breakfast.

"What the hell happened to your wrists, Eames?" Ariadne suddenly asked, surprising everyone with her question.

Like he always did Eames just smirked. "Real gentlemen don't kiss and tell." He answered her, a lewd grin plastered across his face. Ariadne, who still wasn't used to Eames constant flirtatious manner, went beet red and refused to say anything for the rest of the meal, while the others chuckled along.

And if Arthur caught himself staring at the black and blue wrists and if everything he ate tasted like donuts with vanilla pudding and citron icing, he never mentioned it to anyone.

Not even to himself and especially not in his dreams.

…

Arthur is used to thinking of himself as a strong man, although this hadn't always been the case in his childhood. Actually he usually was the weak kid, on which the other ones would pick on. He stopped counting how often he'd been beaten black and blue and how often he'd lost all his pocket money to older boys and or how often he'd been forced to eat worms, bugs and spiders.

He had been very small for his age, with his skin looking like porcelain, his features delicate and soft. Mostly he had been a dreamer, who wanted nothing more than to sit around a tree for many hours, imaging things no one would ever believe came from him: stories about the adventures of Knights who saved the princess, or of safaris into the African wilderness, or of treasure hunting as a pirate.

He'd always wanted to be an author when he grew up.

But one day his tormentors went too far and Arthur learned that when he was the first to deliver a well placed strike, there was no one left to strike back. That was when he changed into the boy who took karate lessons and later learned how to work a gun properly. That day he learned that working on the wrong side of the law, could end up in winning.

He'd never forget that particular lesson for the rest of his life.

…

Arthur was working late again, but he couldn't concentrate much. The cause of his annoyed state was of course Eames, who was currently sitting on the sofa. He was watching his favorite sitcoms and laughing his ass off. The rest of the team was already asleep, but a few hours ago Eames had stated, that he couldn't sleep.

"Go look for some company then and spend the night there." Arthur had said but Eames had just grinned.

"But I already have you, Darling." Flirtatious as always and to his horror Arthur had felt his body reacting to the comment. He must have been more tired than he thought.

Arthur snorted "I'm pretty sure you'd prefer some female company right now."

Eames' grin just broadened "If you say so." Then he'd turned around and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

Arthur was really angry, as he had only one page of notes left for that night, but Eames' laughter was distracting him too much. It was rich and full and he put his whole heart into it, which was a strange thing for a forger to do. Arthur shrugged it off because he knew that Eames actually was good at his job despite his ongoing laziness and his weakness for gambling of any kind.

Still, enough was enough and Arthur suddenly stood, legs of the chair screeching over the floor. He marched over to the sofa as loudly as he could announcing his immediate arrival and positioned himself between Eames and the TV station, feet apart, arms crossed.

"Hey, I want to watch this!" Eames complained as his view was efficiently blocked.

"Go to sleep or at least turn it down." Arthur answered, not moving a muscle as Eames tried to shift his position for a better look.

"No." Eames pouted. "It's funny and you're boring."

"I can't work with you behaving like this."

"Well, stop working. I told you so hours ago, darling." Eames looked smug, suddenly disturbingly unconcerned that he was missing a part of his favorite sitcom.

"Some of us have to do the work while others amuse themselves." Arthur retorted sourly.

"Let Cobb do the work for once. He is our boss, you know."

"Why should he do my job if I'm better at it?" Arthur shot back, realizing how ridiculous this whole conversation was. On the other side, when was talking to Eames anything but ridiculous?

"Because you need to eat and to sleep to function like anybody else."

If Arthur wouldn't know Eames was a brilliant forger he'd almost believed the concern showing in Eames' words. Arthur didn't even answer that as he grabbed for the remote control. Eames saw what he was trying to do and launched himself at the device. They quickly started shoving each other and pulling the control from hand to hand. It was a playful fight until Arthur snapped and got really violent.

He lifted his hands shoving hard at Eames until the Brit was lying down with his back on the sofa. Arthur's hands curled into Eames sides and hips, holding the man there in place. To his surprise, Eames instantly stopped struggling and just let himself be held down. Arthur knew that Eames was as strong as himself and could easily match him in a fight and it puzzled him, that again, he choose not to. Instead he just looked up, a question burning in his eyes.

"Just go to sleep Eames." Arthur felt bad for having lost it again after quickly releasing his hold on the forger. Eames stayed put, only his eyes following the movement of Arthur's hands, which shut the TV off.

"Alright." Eames said behind Arthur's back and curled in on himself. "Goodnight then."

Arthur walked back to his desk and after 10 minutes of working in silence he heard Eames' breath evening out. The forger had gone to sleep and soon started snoring slightly. After one more hour of work Arthur finally called it a day. On the way to his bedroom he passed the now soundly sleeping forger. The forger's whole body was relaxed and he was slightly drooling on his pillow. Arthur just barely managed to suppress the sudden urge to find the man a heavy blanket to cover him with it.

Eames' shirt had ridden up and Arthur could clearly see the darkening purple bruises on the Brit's hips.

If Arthur wondered whether the forger had been serious about his flirtations with the point man he never mentioned it to anybody.

…

Arthur had been dreaming about a long forgotten memory, when he slowly came back to himself. The memory was a dear one, of a long lost lover and he felt content and relaxed for once. He seldom dreamt of things like this. Mostly he didn't indulge in sex as in his eyes it made him weak and easier to manipulate. You needed to trust someone to go to sleep with that person, and especially in their line of work, you quickly learned to mistrust people.

Even those who are close to you.

Especially those who are close to you.

Arthur also wasn't interested in one night stands, as he wasn't the type to pick up strangers and have a go with them. He usually took matters in his own hand, which was lonely, but also safe. He hadn't always acted like this though. There had been a time when he was madly in love with somebody, but it seemed as if he didn't deserve that much happiness.

It didn't work out and his heart was broken.

The echo of the memories, of the dream, still felt real, just as if hands were still roaming over his body, touching him in all the right places, making him feel alive and warm and happy. Arthur's hand wandered on its own down over the bulge in his pants and it made him realize, that he still must lying on the sofa in the common room, where he'd laid down for a quick nap in between work. So jerking off was no real possibility, as anybody could walk in any time.

But the hands on his body were so promising and they felt so real as… wait.

They were real. Real hands were roaming his body and for a second Arthur frantically searched for his totem, as suddenly a dark chuckle sounded behind him.

He was up in a second shoving Eames, who had spooned up behind him, down on the floor. Eames' backside hit the floor with a loud thud and the Brit grimaced in pain.

"What the hell do you think are you doing?" Arthur yelled and felt his face flush.

Eames smirked. "You're always so uptight, but you seemed to enjoy your dream, so I thought I'd make it last a little longer to help you relax."

"I don't need your help to relax!" Arthur was still yelling and suppressed the urge to show Eames his murderous right hook.

"Darling, you so do." Eames said and his mouth snapped painfully shut as Arthur's fist connected with his chin. Arthur expected a fight, or at least a hurt look, but Eames just swiped once with the back of his hand across his bleeding lip and looked at him in wonder.

Arthur grabbed his jacket and was gone within seconds, practically fleeing the room without as much as one feeble look back.

…

When Arthur returned from his long walk in the night rain he expected to see the purple bruise on Eames' face. What he didn't expect was Eames in Arthur's shower wearing nothing but skin and another dark, black and blue colored bruise, which he must have gotten on his fall from the sofa.

Eames was washing his hair in Arthur's privet shower, using Arthur's shower gel and soap and as much as Arthur could tell the man hadn't even realized that he was back yet.

Something inside Arthur suddenly snapped. He was red hot furious, and he decided to give the man once and for all, what he seemed so desperate for. Arthur was no toy you could play whenever you wanted and he was tired of Eames always flirting with him, tempting him without meaning it. He'd teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget.

Arthur disrobed as quickly and as quietly as he could manage before he stepped into the shower. Eames suddenly turned halfway around, surprise in his eyes, but Arthur didn't allow that. He gripped Eames neck hard and turned him to face the wall again, shoving him up against the cold tiles while the hot water cascaded around them.

Arthur crowded the man, aligning his own body with that of the bulkier man. He was rock hard, had been so from the moment he'd entered the shower to find the other man there and he intended to put that erection to good use. Slowly he rubbed the head of his cock against Eames' backside and felt the man shudder against him. But other than that, Eames offered no protest.

Arthur growled, clearly having expected that Eames would put up a fight in this. His hands closed around Eames wrists and with two strong tugs he pressed them over Eames head into the cold wall.

"Don't move them, or I'll tie you up." Arthur threatened, but he had a suspicion that he wouldn't have needed to bother about it as Eames moaned loudly at the command. A quick glance at Eames' front, where the other man's cock was quickly filling with blood confirmed Arthur's suspicion and for a moment he was insecure whether he was really doing the right thing.

Eames seemed to pick up on his hesitation and his hips bucked in order to free himself. Arthur's body reacted on reflex alone, when he pressed a thigh between Eames' legs to hold the other man in place. The hands hadn't moved an inch though and Arthur lost no more time on his mission. He grabbed the shower gel, and let some of it dribble on Eames lower backside. Eames shivered but if possible got even more pliant under Arthur's hold. Another moan answered Arthur, as he roughly started to prepare the Brit.

He started right away with two fingers, relishing in the pained hiss that answered him. Although Eames obviously seemed to go for some pain, Arthur doubted that the man was really into S/M. At least not on the receiving end of the pain, as it just wouldn't suit the flirtatious teaser. So Arthur figured that Eames would probably soon reach his boundaries and this was exactly what Arthur had in mind. He wanted Eames to understand once and for all, that Eames should keep his distance to him.

"You don't even know what you've been asking for, Mr. Eames, do you?" Arthur taunted, grateful, that his voice sounded as menacing as he'd hoped. He felt the Brit's body shiver again as he added "You've been playing with fire, Mr. Eames and I have this suspicion, that this time you'll get hurt.

Arthur added roughly a third finger but he soon realized that Eames must have done this before, as his body easily relaxed around the harsh intruder. So Arthur gave up any pretense of a thorough preparation and just hissed "Don't move." He put the condom on, which he'd fished earlier out of Eames' pant pockets. Eames didn't even move a muscle and for a moment Arthur wondered if the man was breathing at all.

Then he was back in the shower cabin and already pushing into the blond, going slow as to not actually tear Eames but not really giving him the proper time to adjust either. As answer he got a painful sounding hiss and a growl, but still Eames made no move to put up a fight. It annoyed Arthur so much, that he lost more and more of his caution and just went with what felt good to him.

As soon as he was all the way in he started thrusting, not bothering to wait for Eames' sign that he was okay. Instead he just latched onto the other man's shoulder, at first licking, but then biting hard and breaking the skin there. There must be a way to force a reaction from Eames, there just has to be.

But Eames only groaned again, taking everything Arthur dealt out in stride. Arthur bit him twice, every time breaking the skin, right beside those enticing looking tattoos, his hands like claws on the man's hips, leaving not only bruises but also scratches.

Arthur felt like spiraling deeper and deeper into his rage and when he finally roars his orgasm, he doesn't feel any relieve at all. As he sank down on his knees he saw with astonishment that in his harsh pounding he must have hit Eames prostate involuntarily, as the evidence of the Brit's release was slowly dripping down on the shower wall.

Still on his knees he lifted his gaze from the milky white substance to check on Eames and realizes with horror, that he'd torn the man after all. From one second to the other everything seemed to come crashing in on him and he became so disgusted with his own behavior, that he started crying helplessly. He hadn't lost it like this since years ago and he'd sworn to himself never to act like that again.

He cried and cried, shudders wrecking his body and he felt cold, so very cold. He barely registered the hands that tried to comfort him and was only vaguely aware that at one point he was lifted by those hands into strong arms and was finally seated on the toilet seat. He heard the sound of the still running water stop but had no idea what that meant. As grey eyes watched him with concern, Arthur just continued crying, although he obediently lifted hands and arms, as his body was dried with a towel.

Then Arthur was back again in those strong arms and only then realized that he wasn't being taken to his own room, but to another one altogether. The clothes cluttering the floor weren't his, they were much too colorful for that, but he had no idea what that meant. As soon as he was laid down on the bed, he curled into fetal position and after a short while he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

…

When Arthur woke he was disorientated. His throat hurt, he was cold and the sheets around him felt strange. Besides, a hot body was pressed against his backside and at first he had no idea how that had happened. Then the body behind him shifted and Arthur became aware that not only were they both naked but also both very male. Suddenly the memories came crushing back in and he felt himself hyperventilate.

"Hey, easy there Arthur. Everything is alright. You hear me?"

Oddly, Eames' softly spoken words seemed to do the trick and Arthur got his breathing back under control. Still the guilt came crashing in and horrified about Eames' reaction to everything about this whole mess Arthur tried to apologize.

But Eames hushed him, smiling softly as he stroked tenderly through Arthur's hair.

"Don't worry about it. There's nothing you could deal, darling, that I couldn't take."

For the first time the 'darling' sounded like a real endearment, not just a word to piss him off. Arthur felt like crying again, but his self-control was slowly coming back, so he didn't.

"That doesn't explain why you'd forgive me, unless…" and even if Arthur is a fucked-up idiot in matters of the heart, he's still pretty intelligent about other things. "You wanted to get me so angry I snapped, didn't you?"

Eames just looked at him, but neither confirmed nor denied Arthur's suspicion.

"Why?" Arthur finally asked, sounding broken and lost. "You're not into pain…"

"But I'm into you." Eames shrugged, oddly unconcerned by that easy confession. "I've wanted you from day one and I suspected that there was only one way to get you."

Arthur looked at him in horror "By getting me fuck you through a fucking shower wall?"

Eames rolled his eyes "Of course not, darling. By earning your trust."

And as ridiculous this may sound to anybody else, Eames was right. Thanks to all the shit that had happened in the last few days, Eames' had somehow earned Arthur's trust.

"Will you tell me, darling, who hurt you so much? Why you fight everybody who wants to come close to you with nails and teeth?"

Arthur swallowed, nodded and just started talking, knowing that he was already lost to the other man. Even if he didn't trust him, his guilt would have made him tell the story. It was easier than he thought it would be.

So he told about the beautiful boy that had tried to befriend him. Who seemingly had chosen him as best friend and then betrayed him so easily. Arthur had told him all his secrets, even that he found boys much more interesting than girls and that he dreamed of marrying another boy one day because they were so much cooler. He hadn't expected the boy to tell his secrets and he hadn't expected how mean, how much more violent it would make the other boys. The whole situation escalated one day and resulted in Arthur's only real companion, a Labrador named Tom, needing to get euthanized by the veterinarian.

Eames held him through the whole story, listening without interrupting once and soothingly stroking Arthur's shoulders and back as he was lost to the memories. When he was finished with his tale, Eames just pulled him into a hug and rocked him slightly until the tears died down again. The second time they sleep with each other, it was full of heavy moans and soft strokes and passionate desire and they took nearly the whole morning to discover each other's bodies with tenderness.

…

When Arthur woke in the afternoon he instantly knew that everything had changed. He hadn't slept that good in years and he relished in the heat of Eames body, which was curled around him. Arthur was usually too cold anyway and he could use a heater from now on to finally end his lonely nights. He watched the other man's snoring face with tenderness, as he mused about the things that had happened since he'd slowly started to fall for the man.

Eames was still covered in many bruises and he had insisted on bottoming again, although he was still hurt, but he had explained, that he wanted to make a point and that Arthur's turn could wait for the next time.

Showing weakness and softness in the face of Arthur's violence and coldness, Eames showed way more strength than Arthur would ever possess. Arthur realized that he was much weaker than Eames but for the first time in his life, he didn't care about it anymore.

Making love to Eames he had felt like himself for the first time in over thirty years and as he looked at the Brit's softly snoring form and his delicious and possessive sprawl all over Arthur's body, Arthur knew that this relationship would last.

There was no way he could lose himself again like that just because he was afraid of getting hurt. Arthur's violence had finally gotten defeated through Eames' softness alone.

…

Endless End

Finished 28thSeptember 2010