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Don't Fuck With Darling

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Eames fists clenched, his knuckles cracking as he watched Gleeson’s fingers raking through the back of Arthur’s hair, ruffling it from its perfectly smoothed style and tugging his head back harshly. The smallest of grunts escaped through the point man’s clenched jaw, his eyes narrowing faintly against the pain. Eames went to take a step forward but stopped when Arthur’s eyes connected with his, a slight shake of his head halting the forger’s movements. Eames’ eyes slid towards the grunt holding a gun on Arthur, the man pressing the gun to Arthur’s temple in clear warning. He knew there were more guns behind him, that the room below was filled with plenty of other men who had good reason to give him or his point man a bullet as well.

His left fist twisted against his thigh as Gleeson gripped Arthur just under his jaw by the throat, forcing his head to the side so the large Boss could press his nose against his exposed throat and sniff obscenely. Arthur’s entire body was tight, his jaw flexing as he clenched it and attempted to pull himself away. Red crept into his face as Gleeson gripped his throat tighter, cutting off his airway.

“He smells lovely,” Gleeson said, his mocking tone pure ice as he smirked back at Eames. “I can certainly see the appeal…a bit cold though.” He released Arthur’s throat at long last, Arthur breathing heavy but maintaining his stony composure. Eames only them realized he’d been holding his breath as well and released it. His shoulders were tense, muscles screaming to be released, to be allowed to unleash on these worthless fuckers as they really wanted to. He couldn’t go off half cocked though, refused to give that smug bastard the excuse he wanted to shoot Arthur in the head. This, unfortunately, wasn’t a dream, and Arthur wouldn’t wake up.

“I’ve never had a thing for boys” Gleeson continued, his mouth still inches from Arthur’s throat and his hand now gripping the young man’s arm in a manner which had to be painful. Eames could see Arthur’s eyes darken at the word “boy,” knowing how the man at times resented his youthful looks. Gleeson had caught it too, a smile curling his mouth as he let his hand travel from Arthur’s arm down his stomach to his cock and squeezing cruelly. “The thought of making you watch me cum balls deep in him is making me hard.” The thug wrapped an arm around Arthur’s waist and dragged him back against him, the brow furrow of disgust Arthur slipped an indication that the gangster was not lying. Arthur tried to jerk away and was rewarded with a swift backhand what whipped his head to the side.

Eames lunged forward, eyes blazing, but was cut short when one of the thugs holding a gun on him pistol whipped him. He fell to his knees, stunned. He shook his head to clear his vision, vaguely aware of Arthur struggling against Gleeson and another of his goons. He heard a resounding “crunch” and a strangled cry and looked up to see the man who’d been holding a gun on Arthur clutching his nose with tendrils of blood working through his fingers. Arthur’s hair was rumpled and there was a small splatter of blood above one eye, he must have head butted the man.

Someone grabbed Eames by the hair and dragged him to his feet, the sound of several guns cocking ringing in his ears and attracting Arthur’s attention. Gleeson was laughing, the bastard. He grabbed Arthur by the arm and hauled him over to where Eames was being restrained on either side by two men. He wrapped an arm about the slim man and took him by the throat again. “Enough of that now, lads” he said, glancing amusedly between the two men. “I’ll tell you what Mr. Eames…I’m a fair man. I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt and say you wouldn’t have infiltrated my establishment and broken my fucking trust.” He accentuated the word with harsh squeeze to Arthur’s throat. “Without being under orders from that miserable mess Dominick Cobb…therefore I’m willing to be lenient and not shoot you two in the fucking head right now.”

Eames’ nostrils flared as he waited for Gleeson to continue, not wanting to anger the man towards further violence against Arthur. Gleeson continued, releasing his grip on Arthur’s throat and even brushing a few wayward hairs back into place. “Therefore, I’ll make you a deal. You beat one of my boys in the ring, and I’ll let you both go with an understanding that this little lapse of judgment on your part will never fucking happen again.”

“And if I lose?” Eames asked, ignoring the shake of Arthur’s head as the other man realized he’s already decided to accept.

Gleeson chuckled again, his teeth bared by his lecherous smile. “Well then” he said, caressing the nape of Arthur’s neck. “Then your little darling here is mine for the night…maybe we’ll each take a turn until the frigid little bitch gives us a smile.” He gripped Arthur’s jaw, and cooed at him as one might a small child. “How about it, ‘darling’, care to give us a little smile?” He pushed at Arthur’s lower lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into his mouth. Arthur allowed it, his body practically shuddering with the desire to pull away.

Eames wanted to tell him to get his fucking hands off, to throw the men holding him off and just level them, but he knew it would only make matters worse. He and Arthur were outnumbered and outgunned. He’d have to play Gleeson’s little game because he just refused to gamble with Arthur’s life, but the sweaty gangster had to be a fool to think this would be over afterwards. He’d make him pay for touching his darling, and Arthur would only be too happy to help.

“Fine,” Eames said, his brow cocking as he tilted his head to look up at Gleeson with a sneer. “But I wouldn’t choose a lad you depend on, cause I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

***

The crowd surrounding the chain link cage roared with pleasure at the sight of Eames entering along with Gleeson’s burly right hand man Butler. The Scot’s cocky sneer only served to incite the other men around them, many of them very eager to see Eames beaten down to pulp. Eames looked around himself confidently, his eyes wild with intent as he removed his jacket, carefully folding it in half and setting it on the ground. Butler was pacing about the cage like a proud cock, rolling up his sleeves in delight.

Eames tossed a look up to the office window looming above them, Gleeson there waving happily with Arthur at his side. The pointman’s eyes were dark, his lips pressed into a thin line. He gave Eames a curt nod, which Eames returned, his head nodding first to Arthur and then to himself as he pursed his lips. He loosened his tie but did not bother to remove it. All around him he were shouts of encouragement to Butler, suggestions and tips but they may as well have been speaking gibberish for all he could hear were Gleeson’s words rattling about his head on a loop.

“You ready to die?” Butler taunted, sauntering over with arms open.

Eames nodded one more time. “Right then,” he said, his head tilted down as he charged the taller man, catching him in the middle of his chest with a powerful thrusting kick. Butler immediately collapsed, and Eames was upon him. He gripped Butler by the front of his shirt and pulled him up just enough for his fist to smash into his face. He could feel the other man’s nose crumple under his first, felt the warmth of blood against his fingers as his fists rained down. He finally let the man drop down to the filth caked floor, pulling back a fist before letting it fly one last time. Blood bubbled up from the other man’s mouth, his arms lying useless beside him.

Eames looked down at him, the blood pounding in his ears as he took fiery breaths in through his nose. He stood, breaths still slightly labored from exertion and anger as he smoothed his hair back into place. He knew there was blood on his face, he’d felt the spray of it as he’d finished the other man off, but he did not bother to wipe it away. He wiped his hands on the front of Butler’s shirt, the crowd about him booing and cat calling but altogether much more subdued. He picked up his jacket and donned it as he descended the steps from the caged platform and made his way back to the stairs which would return him to Gleeson’s office. No one tried to intercept him along the way.

He shoved the door open, letting it slam against the wall as he entered. Gleeson was glaring at him, enraged at both the outcome and the loss of his best henchman. He gripped Arthur’s upper arm fiercely, knuckles white as he stared at Eames.

“You’ve had your fun, now let him go and we’ll be off,” Eames said, his voice a velvet threat.

“Kill him,” Gleeson said, looking behind Eames.

It was all the indication the other man needed to sidestep and throw back an elbow, catching the thug behind him in the eye while grabbing at the man’s gun with his other hand. Without hesitation Eames tossed the gun in the air.

Gleeson barely had time to register the toss before Arthur had caught the gun in his free hand, pressed the muzzle to the Gangster’s temple and pulled the trigger. Gleeson crumpled, falling to the side from the force of the shot. Arthur stood stone still next to him, the gun trained on its target though the other man was far past the ability to stand back up.

“Get balls deep in me now,” he taunted coldly, spitting down onto the man’s still form. He finally looked back towards Eames with a quirked brow as the other man ambled over to him. “You hurt?” he deadpanned.

Eames smiled, baring his crooked teeth. “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated Darling.” He didn’t waste a second, immediately reaching a hand forward to grip Arthur by the back of the neck and pull him into a heated kiss.

***

They left quickly. Arthur made a quick call to Cobb, informing him that the job was incomplete as there were complications. Eames could hear Cobb shouting at Arthur through the phone, and Arthur allowed him to rant while sitting stiffly in the passenger seat. Eames was taken aback when the other man suddenly hissed “Eames isn’t fucking stupid, of course he knew what that would mean. We’ve made worse enemies before, Cobb….it sort of goes with the territory.”

Arthur raised a hand to rub at his eyes, his jaw clenched as he listened. “It’s under control…yeah, we’ll lay low…after the Fischer job, you’re the last person who should be lecturing on keeping everyone informed, Dom, I’m hanging up, I’ll see you in three days.”

Eames glanced over at the other man. “Alright?” he asked. Arthur nodded with a heavy sigh, leaning back against his seat. Eames reached a hand over and rested it on the other man’s thigh, his thumb gliding over the soft fabric of the expensive suit.

“Cobb’s pissed,” Arthur said.

“Hardly shocking,” Eames countered with a sly little grin, pleased as punch when he saw the dimple forming at the corner of Arthur’s mouth. “Stood up for your man, did you?” He didn’t have to see the other man to know he was rolling his eyes.

“He said you were rash, that a scene like that was only going to get us more enemies we don’t need. Just Cobb being Cobb….he wasn’t there.” Arthur covered Eames’ hand with his own, letting them rest there as Eames drove. They continued in silence until Arthur turned his head towards Eames with a wry smile he wasn’t able to hide. “Been a long time since I saw that side of you,” he said, his fingers tightening around the other man’s hand.

Eames glanced over at the point man in scandalized delight when Arthur pulled his hand up and curled Eames’ fingers over his cock. “Made me hard.”

Eames tongued his front teeth, brow arched as he gently squeezed the other man, eliciting a groan. Arthur twisted in his seat so he could reach Eames, one arm snaking behind the man’s neck and the other reaching down into his lap. “Eames.”

“Yes, darling,” Eames said, groaning at the strong fingers which stroked his clothed cock.

“Pull over.”