Author's Note: I was inspired by a line from a Gym Class Heroes song, quoted below. Honestly. I don't even really know about this. I planned for this to be completely different. Also, my first het porn, so it is actually extremely awkward.

It's bad when the fact that you can't have her is the reason you sweat her.

She's so obviously off-limits that Eames can't help but notice her. First and foremost, she's the team's architect. That in itself should have been enough reason not to waste his time thinking of her. Second, apparently Arthur's laid some unspoken claim on her that they've all been unable to ignore. Eames doesn't know if she's aware of Arthur's claim, but it doesn't matter.

Eames, contrary to popular belief, is an honest man. He's a man of his word when it comes to friendships and guy code and loyalty. Thievery and forging is merely a job, a way to make money and cheat the system. It's not really a way of life, not for him.

Despite the huge off-limits stamped on her forehead, Eames can't help but flirt. At first, he's not even really interested in her. But it's the way she resists even just his teasing advances, ignoring the innuendo in his words, that has him smirking to himself. He hasn't had a lot of experience with the word no before and it's kind of hot. Unfamiliar territory always is.

Three months in, it's obvious that Ariadne has little to no interest in Arthur. She's deflecting Arthur's advances almost as diligently as she's deflecting his own. When he sees that this is how she's going to play it, he ups the ante, so to speak.

"Darling," he drawls, in the voice that usually has women throwing their panties at him, "When are you going to let me between those pretty little legs of yours?" She laughs at him, a weirdly musical sound.

"Eames, get over yourself," she tells him, returning to the task he distracted her from.

Two months after that he begins to see her resistance crumbling. He's started in with the touching, stroking her arm when she's telling him about this or that design, laying his palm flat on her thigh during team meetings. He can see that it's getting harder for her to just brush him off. He begins to notice her lingering stares, the way her eyes follow the movement of his tongue as he licks his lips. His smirk might be permanently attached to his face by the end of all this.

He always thought that he would be the one to make the first move. That's the way it always was. He thought that he would corner her after work one day, when everyone else was gone and they were alone. He thought about it a lot actually. But, he's learning, things are never how they always were with Ariadne.

It happens suddenly, one night in the warehouse, just like he thought it would. But it's Ariadne who makes the move, cornering him against the wall.

"Why are you doing this to me?" her voice is shrill and thin.

"In case you haven't noticed, love, you're the one pinning me to a wall." He's smirking, pleased beyond belief at this turn of events. He can feel her breath on his cheek and her small breasts pressed against his chest. She kisses him hard then, as if she's trying to kiss the smirk off his face. It makes him chuckle against her lips and she pulls away.

"You think this is funny, asshole," she growls. "I can't concentrate on work, I can't think about anything but your stupid, goddamn lips. Fuck."

And then it's him kissing her, backing her up until they hit the worktable. He's always had a thing for girls with filthy mouths.

"Mmm, yeah, baby," he says, teasing her, "talk dirty to me." He chuckles softly, sucking on her neck. She growls again, knocking everything off the surface of the table as he lifts her to sit on the edge. Her legs wrap around his waist and he can't help but grind his hips into hers. The gasp she releases at the friction goes straight to his growing erection.

He gets her shirt and bra off, mouth sucking bruises down her neck and shoulder, across her chest. His lips close over her left nipple, gently sucking, teeth scraping the sensitive skin. She's moaning and whimpering and it's better than he imagined it would be.

He undoes the button on her pants, grabbing the waistband of both her jeans and her underwear, pulling them down together as she lifts her hips off the table. He slips off her shoes and socks, throwing them to the floor along with her pants. He kisses the inside of her bare thigh, his thumb brushing lightly over her clit, and she moans. He pauses then and unbuckles his own pants, pushing his trousers and his boxer-briefs down around his knees. He positions himself at her entrance, but then her hands are on his shoulders, stopping him.

"Eames, Eames, wait," she whispers and he looks up at her. Her eyes are wide and vulnerable.

"What is it, love?" he asks, with a tenderness that surprises him. She looks down, embarrassed and then it hits him. She's a virgin. Unfamiliar territory indeed. "Oh, darling." His hand goes under her chin, lifting her face to look at him. "Don't be embarrassed. I promise I'll be gentle." She nods and he kisses her.

He enters her, slowly, so slowly that it almost hurts him and she clenches around him.

"Darling… darling. You've gotta relax, love," he tells her and she nods, face in a slight grimace. He kisses her again and gives her some time to get used to his size. He brings his hand down between them, fingers rubbing her clit. She moans and he can feel her relaxing. She gasps when he begins to move, wriggling on the table.

"Calm down," he tells her. And then she does. He begins thrusting into her and her hips come up to meet him. His lips are on hers, her neck, her breasts. His hands guide her hips. Their groans mix together in the empty warehouse air. And then, without warning, his orgasm hits him. He thrusts into her, riding out the waves, rubbing her and then she's coming, clenching around him.

They stay like that, her perched on the worktable, him standing between her legs, slumped onto each other, for a few moments before either of them moves. The air seems uncomfortable now and Eames feels constricted in his own skin. He's never been with a virgin before; he doesn't even remember when he was a virgin.

"So…" Ariadne starts, pushing him away and hopping off the table to put her clothes back on. "That was awkward." He chuckles softly.

"Darling," he murmurs, pulling her back to him. "I'm always up for a little practice."