bakerstreet | The First Time Meme

THE ❝FIRST TIME❞ MEME

RULES!
♥ Leave a comment with your character's name and fandom.
♥ When replying, RNG for a number between 1 and 7. The number you get corresponds with the kind of "first time" sex you're having
♥ Go from there! The sky's the limit.

THE LIST!
01] Romantic | You waited and waited and waited for the right moment to take this final step with your partner, and it really paid off; neither of you can imagine this night (or day!) to be any better than it is right now.

02] The Only Time | You know somewhere in your heart that you won't be getting a second chance for this. The relationship is forbidden, or they're moving away, or you're moving away, or something is tearing this relationship apart, and that may be the last thing you want.

03] Set-Up | ... Oh. Well. Someone nudged you and this other person together, the one that you may have loved or hated or been friends with your entire life. It isn't completely by choice, but it doesn't sound like that bad of an idea... Or maybe it does. Who knows?

04] Experience Difference | One of you knows exactly what to do, and the other doesn't! Maybe they're just a natural at this kind of thing... or maybe there's a thing or two they haven't told you yet.

05] Hesitant | One (or both) of you aren't quite sure if you're ready for this next big step... at the same time, you want this to happen, though the thought makes butterflies flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

06] Awkward | It feels like everything that can go wrong does go wrong. Relax? You can't relax! This is s-s-s-s-sex-- oh, boy, there's another mistake.

07] Wildcard | This is the "other" option. Choose any of the above or create your own!

[credit goes to

connikebox]

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[ Taking a deep breath while holding Eames' gaze. ] I know.

[ A hollow laugh. ] There's nothing to it, I'm afraid.

[ Turning his hand in Eames' graps, fingers brushing Eames' wrist. ] Are you sure you're all right?

A little unsettled. [ They almost didn't make it out, they almost didn't --. ]

Hey. [ Lifting his free hand, uncertain for a moment. He almost stops, mid-air, before setting the hand on Eames' chest, over the lapel of his jacket (over his heart).

He hasn't ever seen Eames this openly upset. Arthur— Arthur won't let himself think of the consequences of this. Oh, he's run through them in his mind a hundred times, of course, but he won't let himself consider the emotional impact of it. He's still the point man, still on the job, until they're all out of this. ]

[ He holds Arthur's gaze for a moment before he's moving, his hands at the other man's waist, ducking in to press his lips to his. It's a bruising kiss, tinged around the edges with desperation. ]

[ Arthur goes stock-still for a second. They've never— certainly, there's always been something between them, but they've never acted on it. Arthur finds himself wondering, the thought gone immediately again, what it means that Eames is initiating this now.

Then he stops thinking because it's Eames who's kissing him like it's the last time they'll ever see one another. Which it may well be. And just like that Arthur's emotional defenses crumble and it really hits him, that he may never see Eames again.

His fingers tighten on Eames' jacket, bunching up the material to draw Eames closer, his other hand coming up to the back of Eames' head. He draws back: ] Eames. [ Only to slam their lips back together. ]

[ He's not being pushed away, that's unexpected, but not unwanted. Something tightens in his chest, his hands sliding around Arthur's waist and curling into the fabric of his waistcoat. His head's spinning with possibilities, how close they came to disaster, how it means Eames can't follow Arthur around on worthless jobs simply because that's what he wants.

Arthur is what he wants.

He makes a noise against Arthur's mouth, maneuvers them until Arthur's pressed against the nearest wall, Eames kissing him breathless with an intent he hasn't felt in a long time. ]

[ Arthur tenses when his back his the wall, his instincts to fight far closer to the surface than all other, but he only uses the tension to press himself against Eames, against the weight of him, arching up.

One of them's making soft noises, gasps, and it takes Arthur a moment to realise that it's him.

He can't (won't, can't) let go of Eames, kissing him back with equal fervour. ]

[ His hands slide up from his waist, curve around his side. His head is swimming, skin on fire, and Arthur isn't fighting him away, he's kissing him back.

Fingers lift, cup his cheek, stroke along the ridge of bone. ] Arthur.

Yeah. [ And then, on an exhale: ] Eames. [ It's acknowledgement, permission and desperation, all in one. How can they have this now, and then never again? How can they not?

Arthur runs a hand down Eames' back, exploring the shift of muscles under his fingers, wanting to feel, wanting more.

Tilting his head into the touch. ]

[ Trailing a series of kisses down Arthur’s jaw seems like a good idea right now, so that’s what Eames does, pausing at his throat to inhale his scent. } You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to do this.

[ If Arthur's breath catches in his throat for a moment, if he tilts his head a little to give Eames' better access— well, there is no one but Eames around to see it, is there?

And for all that he comparmentalises, he's wanted this too. More than he's let himself believe, more than he's ever let on. ] Since Hamburg, for me.

[ Lips dragging along his throat. ] Why didn't you say?

[ Letting his head drop back against the wall, exposing his throat. ] Didn't— [ the softest moan, barely more than an exhalation. ] Didn't think you were serious.

[ Fingers curling inside Arthur's shirt collar, knuckles against his pulse point, and he exhales against his skin. ] I've been serious about you since the very moment we met.

You— [ Shifting to look at Eames, a little wide-eyed, his voice rough. ] Really?

Yes. Smitten from the very offset, I thought you simply didn't swing that way.

[ Pulling Eames closer for another kiss. With this little distance between them, it becomes easier to say things he isn't sure he could (would want to) say while looking Eames in the eye. ] I don't do one-night stands.

[ Quietly. ] That's never been my intention, Arthur. Never.

[ A deep breath, and Arthur's pressing his face against Eames' neck, not hiding so much as trying to get closer. ] All right, yeah.

[ There is little point now in thinking of lost opportunities, of lost time, though it is hard not to. They could have had this all along. ]

[ Hands sliding up underneath his waistcoat, warm against the silk of his shirt. ] Do you want this?

You have no idea how much. [ It comes out all wrong, honest and quiet. ]

[ Fingers underneath his chin, Eames lifts his face enough to press their mouths together. It's a soft, tender thing. ]

[ It takes Arthur's breath away, makes him hold on tighter to Eames, makes him want to be that much closer. ]

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plagiary - 2012-02-24 13:10 (UTC) - Expand