“Who’s that?” Eames asked Tom Daley, pointing to the very fit American swimmer on the platform, waiting to take a dive in the prelims.
“Oh, that’s Arthur. Arthur Cohen. American, well you can see that from his uniform, quite good. Got a silver in Beijing. Good candidate for gold this year.” Tom rattled off what he knew about his competitor.
“I didn’t see him in the synchro earlier,” Eames mused.
“No, he doesn’t do synchro. A bit of a perfectionist that one, doesn’t like to depend on anyone else. Plans all his own dives any everything. He’ll make a hell of a coach once he retires.”
“Hmmm.” Eames tapped his chin, watching Arthur take his dive, his movements exact, his lines straight.
“Want me to introduce you?” Tom asked, nudging Eames a bit.
“Does he swing that way?” Eames asked, raising his eyebrow.
“Oh yeah,” Tom grinned.
“Personal experience?” Eames raised his other eyebrow.
“Haha, no, but he’s got a bit of a reputation from diving meets. If you’ve got some tension to work off, he’s definitely good for mutual hand jobs in the locker room. And then he’ll come out and do a perfect dive.”
“Interesting,” Eames responded. “No boyfriend though?”
“Haha, nope, I’m pretty sure all he does is train and eat and sleep.”
“Well thank you, Tom, this has been quite enlightening. I think I’ll go congratulate him on his excellent dive.” Eames strolled off toward the hot tube where Arthur was soaking after his dive.
“Lovely dive, that,” Eames bent down and said near Arthur’s ear. Arthur started, he hadn’t been expecting anyone to talk to him.
“Oh, thanks,” Arthur said, finally, his tone making it clear that he did not wish to continue the conversation.
“Hi, I’m Eames,” Eames said, popping a squat down next to the hot tub, making it clear that he intended to continue their conversation.
“That’s nice,” Arthur said flatly, suggesting that he didn’t find it nice at all.
“It is, innit. I’m a swimmer, just here to support my mate Tommy, over there,” Eames pointed to Tom Daley, “And I saw you dive and thought to myself, ‘if that isn’t the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,’ and decided I had to come over and introduce myself.” Eames was pulling out all the charm in his arsenal, but it didn’t seem to be making a dent in Arthur’s armor of indifference.
“You’ve introduced yourself.” Arthur said, leaning back and closing his eyes, his dismissal obvious.
“Indeed,” Eames responded, at a loss for what to do next. “Well, I’ll see you around Arthur.”
And he did see Arthur around. Strangely enough, almost everywhere he went the rest of the day, he kept seeing Arthur. Finally, Eames walked up to him that evening.
“Are you stalking me, Mr. Eames?” Arthur spat out.
Eames held up his hands in protest. “What? No! I was just coming over because it seems like everywhere I went today I kept seeing you. I was going to say it was fate and offer to buy you a drink.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, his fury aborted. “Okay.”
“Okay you can buy me a drink. I don’t have any dives tomorrow. Let’s go.” Arthur was still all business, although no longer furious.
Three drinks in and Eames still felt off-kilter around Arthur, who was still nursing his first.
“You don’t have a lot of fun, do you,” Eames asked.
“A lot of people say that. I have fun. I’m just focused on my goals. I don’t let things get in the way of accomplishing them. I know how to have fun though,” Arthur gave Eames an appraising look. “I’d suggest that we go have a little fun, but I’m not quite sure you’re sober enough.”
“Arthur, if you are suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, I have been aching for your cock in my arse since I saw it filling out your tiny little speedo this morning. I will get sober if that is what you require of me. I will go jump in that very cold pool if you want.”
Arthur bit back a smile. “No, I think you’ll probably be fine. Do you want to go back to my room, or...?”
“D’you have a roommate? I’m with some other blokes from the swim team.”
“Yeah, but he might be out. Let’s go check.” They walked back to the American dorm, with only a few minor public groping incidents, but found Arthur’s door locked with a swim cap covering the knob.
“Well then, how do you feel about hand jobs in hallways?” Arthur asked, pushing Eames against the wall.
“Christ, Tom was right about you,” Eames muttered as he reached for Arthur’s ass, pulling their pelvises against each other. They were of a similar height, with Arthur being on the taller side for a diver, and Eames being rather short for a swimmer.
“What do you mean, ‘Tom was right about [me]’,” Arthur asked, suddenly ceasing his grinding up against Eames. Eames was busy mouthing against Arthur’s neck, hands firmly planted on Arthur’s perfect bottom. “What did you mean?” Arthur insisted, pulling back away from Eames.
“He just said you had a bit of a reputation in the diving circuit. It’s fine, darling. It’s more than fine. I am so much in favor of you and your reputation right now.” Eames tried to pull Arthur back against him.
“Is that why you were hitting on me this morning? Because you heard I was a slut?” Arthur asked, angrily, firmly separating himself from Eames.
“No, I was hitting on you because you’re bloody gorgeous and possibly the best, cleanest diver I’ve ever seen. I just asked Tom if I was going to be barking up the wrong tree,” Eames responded, realizing he was on the verge of shouting.
“Shut the fuck up!” a voice shouted from a room down the hall.
“I think we’ve worn out our welcome here. Thank you for the drink, Mr. Eames. Have a good Olympics,” Arthur said stonily, motioning toward the stairs.
“Pet, no, please, don’t let’s end it like this,” Eames pleaded, really feeling that third scotch.
“End what? An awkward evening? Or are you just upset you didn’t get your rocks off?” Arthur sneered nastily.
“No, that’s not what I mean, look, this is all coming out wrong.”
“You need to leave, Mr. Eames. Goodbye.” Arthur stomped down the stairs into the common room. Eames followed dejectedly and slunk out the door.
Arthur can't understand why Eames insists on showing up and annoying him at practice. He also can't understand why being annoyed is messing with his dive performance so much.
Thanks to kenopsia and isidore13 for their help sorting out this chapter in chat today :)
The thing is, Arthur didn’t normally care that much about sex. It was a good stress reliever. He knew he had a bit of a reputation in the diving community, and that was fine. He didn’t have much sex outside of diving meets, mostly because it didn’t matter as much. But it helped settle his nerves at diving meets. And there were always guys willing to at least exchange hand jobs. And he his dives were better when he got off. He had the stats. He always carefully entered the information into his spreadsheets. How he slept. What he ate that day. Mood. If he got off (subcategories: wank, hand job, blow job). Which direction he dressed. Arthur had excellent data on all of his dives, which allowed him to compete at his very best.
Which is why he didn’t understand why his practice dives were going so poorly. Yes, he was annoyed. But that mood wasn’t unusual, and mood had never influenced his performance to such a degree. Sometimes it wasn’t even significant, but at this practice it seemed to be the controlling factor. His entries were bad, with giant splashes. He kept over rotating.
Arthur hoisted himself out of the pool, turning to glare at the man responsible for his mood, William Eames. Why is he even here, Arthur thought to himself. Arthur’s coach, Dom Cobb came up to him. “Okay, not a great practice, but you always perform better when the heat is on than in practice anyway.”
“Yes, I know.” Arthur said through gritted teeth.
“Go take a break. Oh, I think someone was looking for you earlier,” Dom slapped Arthur affectionately on the back.
Arthur had a feeling he knew who had been looking for him. He ignored that piece of information from Dom and went to go shower and change. Unfortunately, when he got out of the locker room, Eames was there waiting for him.
“Was I distracting you, pet? Your dives weren’t nearly as clean as practice yesterday,” Eames said teasingly.
“No,” Arthur practically growled.
“Ooh, kitten’s got claws,” Eames laughed.
“Is there a reason you’re here?” Arthur snapped.
“Arthur, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday,” Eames said jovially.
“Is that it?” Arthur spat, “Or was it that you didn’t get off at all?”
“Arthur, darling, I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re a delicious-looking dish and I would very much like to get into those teeny-tiny briefs of yours...”
Arthur glared at him. Eames sped up to finish, “But I would also like to get to know you, Arthur. I wasn’t just looking for a quick shag.”
“Whatever,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes, shoving past Eames.
“C’mon, give me another chance, pet. Let me take you to dinner.”
“What?” Arthur asked.
“Dinner. We’re in London, I know a billion places. Let me take you out.”
“No.” Arthur said flatly.
“Okay, Arthur. If you really aren’t willing to give me a second chance,” Eames looked crushed. Arthur felt something inside his chest twist at Eames tone.
“Not tonight,” Arthur amended. “I need to run my data before the prelims tomorrow, see if I can figure out why my dives were off today.”
“You need to run your data?” Eames asked.
“Yes, I keep data on all my dives.” Arthur said primly. “Don’t you keep data on your swims?”
“No, I don’t,” Eames laughed. “Pet, you must give me another chance now, because I will simply die if I can’t look at your data.” Eames waggled his eyebrows.
“Shut up, it’s not dirty. Stop trying to make it dirty.”
“Of course not, darling, of course not. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Eames grinned as he walked away.
“I didn’t say yes,” Arthur called after him. “I didn’t say yes,” he muttered to himself. He stalked back to his room to enter the data from his dives today into his laptop. “I didn’t say yes. Why didn’t I just say no. Why won’t he just leave me alone?” Arthur frowned as he looked at his data. Maybe he just needed to relax. He closed the spreadsheet and opened up his porn folder. He clicked through a few of his regular options. Nothing seemed right. He closed it with a huff and then went to go take a shower
As he felt the hot water run over his naked body he couldn’t help but think back toward the primary source of his annoyance from the day. Stupid Eames with his stupid arms and his stupid tattoos and his stupid mouth. Arthur ran his hand over his hardening cock. That fucking mouth. Taunting him. Flirting with him. Arthur wished he could just shut him up. Fill up that stupid mouth with his cock. Arthur fucked his fist in earnest, imagining those pink pert lips. He desperately wanted to see them wrapped around his cock. You could have that little voice in his head said. You still could. With that thought, he came, hot and hard over his hand.
Arthur can't focus at the prelims. Eames helps him out.
Eames whistled as he walked back to British dormitory. He might get to go on a date with the delectable Arthur. Mmmm, Arthur, he thought to himself.
“It looks like you were successful,” Tom teased Eames when he saw his good mood. “So was he as good as you hoped?”
“Arthur is a delightfully prickly man who once again rejected me,” Eames said gleefully.
“So why are you so happy if you got shot down?”
“Because he was so annoyed with me it threw off his dives at practice. And he’s going to go on a date with me.”
“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t think he was someone who dated.”
“Well, he just hadn’t met me yet, now had he?” Eames said confidently.
The next day Eames was looking for Arthur at the springboard preliminary dives. Arthur’s first dive was not quite up to his normal standards. Eames wandered down toward the hot tubs where the divers were waiting to go up for their next dives. He waved to Arthur as he went up for his second dive.
Arthur froze for a moment, and then glared at Eames before shaking his head and walking forward to take his dive. This dive went slightly better than the first, but Arthur was still only getting scores in the 6.0-7.0 range, not nearly up to his usual standards.
Arthur hoisted himself out of the water and grabbed a towel from the hot tub to rub down with. Eames met his eyes. Arthur glared at him again, and then crooked his finger, motioning for Eames to come over to him.
“This is your fault.” Arthur growled.
“My fault?” Eames asked innocently.
“I can’t focus.”
“Should I leave, darling?”
“No, you can follow me into the locker room and get me off. We have,” Arthur looked at the current diver “Approximately seven minutes.”
“Not that I’m not immensely flattered by that proposition, pet, but I was thinking we might get dinner first.” Eames said smoothly.
“Mr. Eames. If you wish to take me to dinner. Or have any sort of sexual contact with me. At any point in the future. You will follow me into the locker room. And help me focus. We have six minutes and thirty seconds.”
“Right then, after you,” Eames leered, gesturing for Arthur to go ahead. Once in the locker room, Arthur peeled his speedo down and shoved Eames up against the door, preventing anyone from coming in. Eames reached down for Arthur’s dick, still mostly soft, and leaned in to capture his mouth. Arthur kissed back desperately, hardening quickly as Eames sucked his tongue into his mouth. Arthur growled and took control of the kiss, pulling Eames’ lower lip into his mouth. Eames began to move his hand over Arthur’s now hard cock, jacking him slowly but firmly.
Arthur pushed Eames harder into the door, trying to fuck Eames’ fist, growling in annoyance as Eames slowed the pace. “Easy, pet, we’ve still got a good four minutes.”
“You’re such a fucking tease,” Arthur snarled. “I should make you pay for that.”
“Promises promises, darling. You’re welcome to take it out of my hide after our date tonight.” Eames increased his speed, keeping a constant pressure, swiping his thumb over the tip to spread out the wetness gathered there.
“I never said yes.”
“Mmmm, I think asking a bloke for a hand in the locker room counts as a yes, petal.”
“God, do you ever stop talking? Your fucking mouth. I just want to stuff my cock in it to shut you up.”
Eames felt his own cock shudder at that thought. His hand sped up almost involuntarily. “That could be arranged,” he murmured into Arthur’s ear before licking a long stripe up the side of his neck. Arthur started as he spent, hot and wet all over Eames’ hand.
“Fuck, the towel,” Arthur muttered. Eames let go and reached for the towel that had fallen to the ground and used it to clean them up. Arthur was breathing hard, leaning against his forearms on the door.
“I think you have about a minute, pet,” Eames offered.
“Right.” Arthur stood up, pulled up his speedo, tucking himself to the left. He shook out his limbs and looked at Eames. “Thanks. Oh, just toss that in the hamper there.”
Arthur walked out of the locker room. Eames waited a moment and then followed, seeing a few raised eyebrows from other divers. Arthur grabbed another towel from the hot tub and wiped himself down, just in time to go up for his next dive.
The next dive was spectacular. As were his next three dives. Arthur was clearly back in top form. Apparently a quick hand job in the locker room was exactly what he needed. Suddenly, what Tom had said about Arthur made a lot more sense.
Despite his lackluster initial dives, Arthur still qualified for the semi-finals.
“Wonderful!” Eames said, as he approached Arthur after the prelims finished. “Now, when should I collect you for dinner?”
“I still didn’t say yes to dinner, Mr. Eames.”
“Ah, but I shan’t put out twice before I’ve gotten you on a proper date, darling,” Eames said, before moving closer to murmur into Arthur’s ear, “And I was so looking forward to having my mouth full of your cock.”
“Oh fine,” Arthur said, attempting and failing to hide his obvious excitement over that idea. “Seven o’clock? You know where my dorm is. Don’t be late.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, pet,” Eames said as he walked off grinning like an idiot.
So CoffeeWithConsequences read my whole Olympics AU and left me such lovely comments that I had to come back to it! Sorry for the very long wait, but I'm going to see if I can get this one finished up (just in time for Arthur and Eames to come back to try new sports in the winter Olympics, right?).
Arthur didn’t quite know what to make of the cheerful (and gorgeous) British swimmer who seemed to be pursuing him. He’d given him a brilliant handjob, which had worked perfectly to focus him enough to ace the rest of his dives (he noted the handjob and dive results in his spreadsheet). He hadn’t even gotten off himself, but seemed perfectly willing to get Arthur off in the locker room between dives. That was certainly a desirable trait in a sex partner, Arthur had found. But it’s not that he was just obedient, he was really anything but that. He knew about Arthur’s apparent reputation, he found Arthur attractive, and yet he seemed to be interested in something beyond just sex.
Arthur frowned to himself. Even if he were at a point in his life in which he were looking for any sort of relationship, or even regular arrangement, he wasn’t sure that a cocky British swimmer was what he was looking for. On the other hand, Arthur really very desperately wanted to fuck his smug teasing mouth, and Eames had been clear that he was ready and willing, but only if Arthur went to dinner with him. And if it went reasonably well, maybe Eames would be available to help him get ready for his next dives. Arthur shrugged. Apparently he needed to get ready for his date.
The restaurant Eames had chosen was a total hole-in-the-wall type place. Arthur looked at Eames skeptically as they walked through the door.
“I know, but trust me for just a minute, darling. I haven’t led you astray so far, have I?”
“I don’t know, you haven’t really led me anywhere yet, other than here, unless we’re counting your dorm hallway,” Arthur retorted teasingly.
“I helped you get your dives back on track today,” Eames protested.
“Yeah, but that was just making up for the problems you caused in the first place by being unreasonably hot and distracting.”
“You say the sweetest things, darling,” Eames smiled and motioned for Arthur to sit at the table to which they’d been guided. Arthur raised an eyebrow skeptically in response.
“Well in the spirit of international cooperation and good feelings, perhaps try the food here before you judge,” Eames said overdramatically as he handed Arthur his menu.
Eames had been right about the food, it was delicious, well-balanced and filling, yet not too heavy, which was important for his dives tomorrow. This of course made Eames even more smug, which made Arthur want to shut him up even more.
“Shall we go back to yours or mine, pet,” Eames murmured in Arthur’s ear as they stood up after paying the bill.
“You’re very confident,” Arthur grumbled.
“Well I did promise you certain things, but if you’re no longer interested, I can just drop you back and yours and then see to myself,” Eames called his bluff.
“You are just insufferable,” Arthur sniped, pulling Eames into a kiss outside the restaurant.
“Is that a yes or a no, darling?” Eames teased.
“Oh come on, we’re going to mine, I’d rather not get suck out in the hallway of your dorm again,” Arthur grumped as he pulled Eames along.
“That happened once,” Eames protested.
“Yet still 100% of the times I’ve tried to go back to a room with you, so my point still stands.”
Once they got back to Arthur’s room, Arthur pressed Eames up against the door, kissing him hungrily. When he pulled back, Eames’ mouth was red and wet and positively sinful looking. Eames looked slightly dazed.
“You really don’t do anything by half measures, do you darling?” Eames said, licking his lips.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. He wasn’t really sure how to respond to such a comment.
“God, you’re hot when you’re being superior. It probably says something about me or my self-esteem that I’m so bloody turned on by you looking at me like I’m scum on your shoe, but—”
Arthur cut Eames off with another kiss. “Fuck, you never do stop talking do you?”
“Is this where you tell me you have a much better use for my mouth?” Eames smirked, dropping to his knees.
“Absolutely,” Arthur said, pushing his pants down, exposing his already hard cock.
Eames produced a condom from his back pocket, unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. Arthur felt both his eyebrows go up as Eames then leaned forward and took Arthur into his mouth, smoothly rolling the condom on as he engulfed him.
“Eames, I am impressed,” Arthur said, feeling impressed despite himself.
“Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you,” Eames pulled off to smart back at Arthur. He smirked at Arthur as he took his cock back into his mouth. Arthur glared and reached down to grasp Eames’ head with his hand. Eames reached up and moved Arthur’s other hand to his head, his eyes flashing wickedly while his lips stretched obscenely around Arthur’s cock. Arthur took the hint and began to thrust into Eames’ mouth. Eames let his mouth go slightly slack, letting Arthur fuck his face. His plush lips were shiny and wet and looked perfect around Arthur’s cock. His mouth was warm and soft and felt perfect around Arthur’s cock. In what felt like no time at all, Arthur was pulling hard on Eames’ hair and spilling into the condom.
“Holy shit, Eames,” Arthur gasped, as his knees finally gave up and he slowly collapsed to the floor. “Just give me a second.”
Eames shoved his own pants down, letting his cock spring free. It was so dark red that it was almost purple, uncut, and so hard it as curving up to rest against Eames’ perfectly cut abs. Arthur had never wanted to touch another person’s dick as much as he wanted to touch Eames’ right now. He reached out and wrapped his hand around it, as Eames groaned.
“What do you want?” Arthur asked, suddenly more cognizant of the fact that Eames had given him two amazing orgasms that day and Arthur had yet to reciprocate.
“Anything, darling, that’s brilliant,” Eames moaned, thrusting into Arthur’s grip.
“You are unfairly hot normally, and the look of your lips wrapped around my cock was everything I could want, but you are ridiculously sexy like this, hard and gasping for it,” Arthur growled into Eames’ ear.
Eames did, in fact, gasp as he came hard over Arthur’s fist. He collapsed dramatically against Arthur, making a mess of both of them. They stayed there on the floor for a few moments when finally Arthur’s need to be clean overpowered his desire to never move again. He got up to get them a washcloth and then grabbed his pants off the floor.
“I suppose this is when I head off,” Eames said, setting the washcloth down once he was done with it.
Arthur looked at him for a second, confused about what he meant, and then realized that Eames was planning to leave. Which, made sense. Arthur usually had no use for hook ups staying around. Of course, Eames had insisted on a date, which didn’t seem like the same thing at all. It seemed rude to just kick him out. And Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted him to go just yet.
“Um, if you want. Or... you could stay?” Arthur said tentatively.
“Do you want me to stay, darling?” Eames said, looking seriously at Arthur.
“Yeah, it’s a date right? You should stay. My roommate’s gone, all his events are over,” Arthur said, sitting down on his bed. He patted the spot next to him.
Eames smiled widely and followed him to the bed.