Fic: Risky Business
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Disclaimer: Fiction based on fictional characters.
Summary: Occasionally, Arthur trades sexual favors for information.
Risky Business I
Arthur promenaded into the bar on Sunset and Birmingham in his signature three piece navy pin stripe bespoke suit and all eyes turned to gaze. He settled down on a stool and spread his legs invitingly. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the stool nearest him. He swiveled in his stool and leaned his back against the counter of the bar, exposing the nape of his neck. He tilted his head toward the bartender and ordered his drink. His drink arrived promptly and he raised the glass to his pursing lips. His dark brown eyes were intoxicating as the men around him drank in his beauty. One man emerged from the shadows of the corner and slipped onto the empty stool next to Arthur. The man leaned into Arthur, strategically placing his left hand on Arthur's stool, between his spread legs. He whispered something in Russian in Arthur's ear as his hand slid closer and closer until he had a firm grip on Arthur's cock. Arthur gulped down his shot of tequila and got up, taking his jacket with him. He followed the man to the restroom down the hallway and before he even turned around the man's mouth assaulted his. The man pushed him into an empty stall. He hastily undid Arthur's belt and nearly ruined his zipper in his frantic effort to free Arthur's cock out of his briefs and into his mouth. Arthur bit down on his lower lip to stifle the moans and raised his arms to hang onto the wall of the stall. The man licked and bit gently on Arthur's throbbing dick while he massaged Arthur's hanging balls. He sucked on Arthur's cock, adding just enough suction. When Arthur started to moan, the man smiled and rose to his feet. He kissed Arthur's mouth fervently while jerking him until finally Arthur stiffened and ejaculated in his hands, burying his scream in the man's mouth. The man wiped the semen across the front of Arthur's waistcoast, ruining it.
Arthur pulled his pants back up and removed his waistcoast in favor of just the suit jacket. He straightened himself up and combed his fingers through his slicked back hair before exiting the bathroom stall. Sitting on the bathroom counter was an unmarked yellow envelope. Arthur slipped it inside his jacket and walked out of the bar on Sunset and Birmingham in his signature three piece navy pin stripe bespoke suit sans the waistcoast. Again, all eyes turned to gaze.
There was a reason why Arthur was the best point man in the business. Most if not all information known to exist, Arthur would eventually uncover. His work ethic and research skills were impeccable, but sometimes he needed a little help in getting the information he needed. Sometimes in exchange, he traded sexual favors for information. Arthur found out early in his career that he had the power to seduce both men and women alike to his whims. A smoldering look here and a dashing dimpled smile there would usually render people speechless. Most people would do just about anything to run their tongue across those fine lips. It was amazing what a little groping or blowjob could bring in terms of informational value. For the most part, Arthur did the deeds. Women usually propositioned him as an escort to high society events. Men usually wanted nothing more than to see Arthur get down on his knees and wrap his pretty little mouth around their hard cocks. Sometimes, they wanted to jerk Arthur off or blow Arthur with his expensive slacks around his ankles on the floor of a dirtied bathroom. Occasionally, they wanted to fondle him-usually roughly rather than gently, but the one thing Arthur never did- the one act that was off limits was fucking. Arthur had his rules when it came to his transactions. He never allowed anyone to tie him up as it left too much room for uncertainty and he never allowed anyone to fuck him. Arthur might suck cock or allow a man to touch him, but he was no whore. He had his self dignity to maintain.
Arthur arrived at his hotel room to discover he had a visitor waiting for him. It was Eames and he was making himself comfortable on the couch in the sitting area. Arthur briskly strolled past Eames, peeling away his clothes as he went. By the time he disappeared into the bathroom, Arthur was stripped nude. Eames turned away out of respect and only got up when he heard the shower door slammed shut. He walked along the path of which Arthur took, picking up the articles of clothing. When he reached the final piece of clothing, the black Calvin Klein boxer briefs, Eames picked up the underwear and inhaled the scent of cum emitting off the fabric. Eames stuffed the underwear in his jacket, to be added later to the collection of underwear Arthur would often throw away after wearing once. Eames sighed deeply when Arthur reappeared with a towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair dripping wet onto the carpeted floor. Arthur sauntered right past Eames toward the closet. He stripped away the towel, tossing it onto the bed and subsequently and inadvertently slapping Eames across the face. Eames grabbed the towel and turned around. Eames swallowed hard. Arthur was standing in the closet, naked. He was bending over slightly to slide his legs into his silk pajamas bottom- his hard and taut ass in the air; his balls and cock hanging between his legs. Arthur threw on a wifebeater and returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth. The water was running, drowning Eames' words of caution.
"I know what you did tonight to get the information for the Snyder case, Arthur," Eames said out loud, "and I'm begging you as a friend to stop. One of these days, you're really going to get seriously hurt. It's like playing Russian Roulette with your body. This guy might just want to suck dick, but who's to say the next guy will stop at just a blowjob."
"You didn't seem to mind it on the Petrovich job," Arthur retorted.
Arthur was right. Had it not been for Arthur's seduction of Petrovich's mistress, the job would have been a complete failure. It was the first job they worked together as a team- Dom, Arthur, and Eames. No matter how hard Eames tried, he couldn't come close enough to Anfisa Petrovich to forge her. He followed her night and day, but somehow she always managed to slip past his fingertips. Then one day, as Eames was trailing Anfisa, Arthur appeared at the corner of Broadway and Fifth. He slipped into the limo transporting Anfisa to her office downtown. During the thirty minute ride, Arthur managed to persuade Anfisa to take a detour to a luxury hotel in Soho where he spent an hour giving Anfisa the best fucking orgasm she ever had with just the tip of his tongue. The rendezvous afforded Eames the ample time to pick the lock at her Greenwich apartment and absorbed everything about Anfisa from her countless photos spread throughout her apartment. Needless to say, the Petrovich went on without a hitch and Cobb and Eames had Arthur's expert fellatio skills to thank for.
"That was before I had fallen in love with you," Eames murmured lowly.
He turned around, expecting Arthur to respond back, but instead he found Arthur fast asleep. Eames sighed deeply. He gathered the comforter and placed it over Arthur's lithe body. He leaned over the young man and kissed his temple before exiting the hotel room.
Two more jobs had gone by without needing Arthur's seduction skills, which that in itself was called for a celebration as for as Eames was concerned since Arthur had never gone more than one job without shedding some articles of clothing. They chose the very exclusive Mansion Club in Miami Beach. Cobb and Eames dressed down for the occasion, but Arthur couldn't part from his three piece bespoke suit. Even though he was dressed like a million bucks, Arthur was denied entrance while Cobb and Eames were both admitted. Cobb was swept inside by the parade of celebrities, leaving Eames outside with Arthur- a velvet rope separating them.
"C'mon, why are you being an arsehole? Let him in," Eames shouted at one of the bouncers.
"Kid's not old enough to be in this adult only setting," the bouncer replied.
Arthur stepped into the bouncer's personal space. He leaned into the bouncer, rubbed his crotch against the denim clad jeans, and whispered into his ear, "I assure you I'm a big boy."
The bouncer gulped and took one look at Arthur, smacking his lips. He grabbed Arthur's wrist and hauled him away, disappearing around the corner of the building. Eames waited for nearly half an hour, rocking back and forth on his heels while whistling to keep his mind off what might be occurring in the back lot of the building. Just as he finished the tenth tune, Arthur reappeared with a smug look on his face- the bouncer steps after him. Arthur wiped away the milky residue from the corner of his mouth and grabbed Eames' wrist, dragging him inside the club.
They danced for hours. Eames wasn't much of a dancer and would rather prefer to get drunk off in the corner somewhere but the alternative of having Arthur getting down and dirty with some random stranger on the dance floor was intolerable. When Arthur finally grew tired of dancing, he left Eames in the middle of the club with cavorting bodies swarming him. Eames managed to shove his way out of the crowd and slid on the stool next to Arthur.
"Come to the men's room with me?" Eames whispered loudly above the blaring music- the alcohol making him less inhibited.
Arthur took a gulp of his drink, leaned against the bar, and smiled, revealing his deep set dimples. "No, Mr. Eames. I will not go to the men's room with you."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because, you, Mr. Eames, have nothing valuable for me to get in return," Arthur said, laughing.
He finished his drink and received a replacement without prompting. He hopped off the stool to continue dancing among the stars. Eames finished his drink and slid his empty glass across the bar counter. The bartender caught it and shot him a dirty look.
"Twenty dollars!" he yelled.
"What the bloody hell? You didn't charge him anything."
The bartender glided across the counter to whisper into Eames' ear. "Because I'm hoping to get a piece of that ass by the end of the night. Get him drunk enough and he won't know whose cock he'll be riding. You, on the other hand, not so much."
It took all the self control Eames had to not swing his closed fist at the bartender. He paid for his drink, left the bar, and dragged a highly resistant and drunk Arthur with him, swearing off to never have a celebratory outing, again. Cobb was unsurprisingly missing.
Closing Notes: To read all my fics including this one and other Inception Slash stories, visit Aphrodite's Labyrinth. There you'll also find stories inspired by the sparkly boys of 'Nsync like the classic, "A Tale of Two of Boybands", first archived here a decade ago, and some stories inspired by my current muse, Jason Castro. For a complete collection of Jason Castro slash, vist my author's page at Castrofics.