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[personal profile] dysonrules
IT'S NOT MY FAULT.  I'm totally blaming [livejournal.com profile] ladyvader and [livejournal.com profile] cherrybina for this.  *nods nods*  The neverending picspams of GUH have broken my brain.  I don't even think that movie was slashy.  But these two?  In real life?  THE PORN EXPLODES FROM THEM BOTH OKAY?  And yeah, I wrote this for [livejournal.com profile] marguerite_26 's One Plot Many Pairings.  IT'S FUN!



Joe opened the door to the storage closet and blinked in surprise at the sight of Tom Hardy bound and gagged on the floor. Joe stared at him and Tom made frantic waggling motions with his brow and muffled noises that were most likely pleas for assistance.

Joe shut the door. He leaned against it, mind racing, while banging sounds reached his ears. Tom was most likely having a fit in there at Joe's apparent abandonment. Joe considered leaving. It was obviously a setup, and a poorly planned one at that. He frowned.

Ellen had apparently left her cell phone in the storage closet and had sent Joe to retrieve it, since she was currently trussed up in harness and wires for an action sequence. Joe had tried to argue, but no one could argue with Ellen's pouty lips and puppy dog eyes for long without feeling like a complete troll, so he had simply asked for directions and plodded off to find the damn phone.

Although he had fully intended to ask what the hell she'd been doing in a storage closet at all, except that now the answer was painfully obvious. He was willing to wager her phone was safely in her purse and nowhere near the storage room that now contained Tom Hardy. Tied up and helpless.

Joe banged his head on the door, which silenced the noises coming from within. Fuck. So yeah, maybe he had flirted a bit with Tom, because Tom was a natural flirt and he had that fucking accent and that stupid crooked smile and that amazing ability to switch the Eames personality on and off, but it didn't mean he wanted… Well, it certainly didn't warrant this idiotic setup.

Joe sighed and opened the door.

Tom's eyes lit up. "Urmph! Ermph ermph ermph!"

Joe rolled his eyes and walked forward to crouch next to Tom. He reached behind his head and felt for the knot on the cloth gag. He got it untied and only yanked out a few strands of Tom's hair in the process. He pulled the wet cloth away and looked at Tom's mouth, which was reddened at the corners. His lips looked even fuller than normal, which was a hard trick to pull off. He already had… cock-sucking lips, his mind helpfully provided.

Tom smiled. "Your hair is down," he said in a pleased tone. Not "thank you for helping me" or even "it's about bloody time", but "your hair is down". The man was a complete lunatic.

"Someone finally figured out how to shut you up?" Joe asked with a grin, not bothering to mention that he hadn't been to makeup for the application of goo to slick back his hair.

"Ellen is not a very nice girl," Tom said. "Pull one little prank and this is what I get."

As usual, Tom's accent was doing strange things to Joe's insides, as if the thrumming tones had a direct connection to Joe's nerve endings, plucking at them with every syllable. Although, Joe admitted, it might be the combination of Tom's voice, those ridiculously full lips, and the piercing eyes gazing at him so openly beneath lashes that most women would have killed to possess.

Joe rocked back on his heels thoughtfully and said nothing. Tom raised a brow.

"So. Joseph. Do you plan to um… untie me? Anytime soon?"

Joe made a noncommittal humming sound. He wondered exactly what Ellen had in mind, arranging Tom's little kidnapping and sending Joe to his rescue. Did she expect him to just free Tom and have a laugh with her? Or had she seen something in their interactions that made her think Joe wanted to see Tom trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey?

"Darling?" Tom continued and Joe nearly groaned aloud. He cursed the writers on a daily basis for inserting that particular line into the script, because Tom seemed to take sadistic pleasure in using it on him regularly.

Joe straddled Tom's legs and sat down on his thighs, earning a surprised look. Joe wasn't sure what he was doing as he leaned forward to smirk at Tom, but he had a bad habit of giving in to his impulses and wasn't about to stop now.

Tom's custom tailored shirt was steel-blue with stripes of varicolored gray and blue. Joe had seen Tom's tattoos without quite registering the visceral effect they'd had on his libido. Until now. "You keep calling me that," Joe said conversationally. "I'm starting to think you aren't teasing."

"I've never been teasing," Tom said without a hint of a smile. "Not about that."

"I thought you told the papers your experimental days were over."

Tom did grin, then. "That was before you. Darling."

"Fuck," Joe muttered and then leaned forward to taste those glorious cock-sucking lips. Tom made a humming noise that sounded like approval and Joe shifted closer, straddling his hips and holding Tom's face in both hands as he deepened the kiss. It was like kissing a woman—but not quite. The differences were mostly cerebral, but the musky scent of Tom's cologne and something about the taste of him was like nothing he'd ever experienced.

Tom was nearly passive, tongue sliding lazily against Joe's, allowing him to take the lead, not that he had much choice with his hands bound behind his back. That fact made Joe feel aggressive and domineering, something he had never felt with a woman, or perhaps he had and just had not allowed himself to give in to it.

Joe's fingers worked at the buttons of Tom's shirt, opening the fabric and allowing him access to Tom's chest. He needed to touch the tattoos. He needed to taste the tattoos. He dragged the shirt roughly over Tom's shoulders, exposing his shoulders and biceps. He leaned back for a moment and watched Tom's reddened, wet lips, imagining them wrapped around his cock. He swallowed hard.

"No tits," Tom said. "Still interested?"

"Shut up."

Joe kissed a biting path along Tom's neck down to the curve of his shoulder before dipping his tongue into the hollow made by his collar bone. He kept going, working his way to Tom's shoulder where the bold dark line of the largest tattoo stood out against his skin. Joe licked it experimentally. It tasted no different than the rest of him, which was unsurprising, and yet there was something curiously intimate about the gesture.

Joe's fingers had unfastened the last button after tearing the shirt from Tom's waistband, so he moved on to the buckle of his belt.

"I admit I never pegged you as the dominating sort," Tom said. He likely strove for cocky, but his voice shook slightly.

"Thought I told you to shut up," Joe muttered and unbuckled the belt. The single button was next, and then the zip, lowered one notch at a time. Joe sat back, watching Tom's face with every downward tug. Tom's head tipped back and he said nothing, although a hint of a smile curved his lips and his eyes were half-lidded.

Joe shifted his hips back when the zipper reached the bottom of the track. He glanced down, to see blue-gray cloth swelling from the open trousers. He pressed a palm to it and heard Tom's intake of breath. He pressed harder and squeezed with his fingertips, locating the ridge that defined the crown. It was not so different from his own, really, except uncut, apparently.

He let go only to grip the waistband and ease the fabric away. Their breathing sounded suddenly loud in the room as he gazed openly at Tom's hard cock. Joe swallowed hard, suddenly unsure what to do next.

"I want to touch you," Tom said roughly.

Joe looked up and narrowed his eyes warningly.

"I know, I know, 'shut up,'" Tom said and then jutted his lower lip in a pout.

Joe suppressed a grin, but his uncertainty vanished. He moved again, sliding back until he rested just below Tom's knees. It was probably very uncomfortable and he thought about untying Tom's ankles, but decided they would both have to live with it. He doubted either of them would care after a moment.

Bracing himself, Joe leaned forward and licked tentatively at Tom's cock. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't much different than any of part of Tom that he'd tasted. He licked it once more, sliding his tongue over the ridged vein. Tom made a noise and Joe looked at him quickly, daring him to speak. Tom just watched him.

Joe touched Tom's cock with his fingers again, taking hold of the base with one hand and gently sliding back the foreskin with his other. He watched, fascinated, as the reddened head appeared, looking more delicate than the flesh around it. He leaned down and mouthed it before drawing his tongue over it, swirling it just the way he preferred. Tom made a strangled noise and his hips rocked up, shoving Tom's cock into his mouth, but causing it to scrape over Joe's teeth.

"Fuck! Sorry," Tom whispered. "Ouch."

"Might want to hold still, then," Joe said and gave him another look before wrapping his lips around Tom's cock and taking it in earnest. At the same time, he pushed his hands firmly against Tom's hipbones, trying to hold him in place and prevent an involuntary choking.

Having never sucked a man's cock before, Joe thought he was doing quite well, hollowing his cheeks with every upstroke and taking care to use his tongue frequently. Judging by the sounds Tom was making, as well as the quivering of his body, he was doing very well indeed.

"Joe," Tom murmured. "Oh god, Joe. I knew you were a bloody little slut under that façade of boyish innocence, you fucking beautiful—"

Joe couldn't tell him to shut up without ceasing his task and he wasn't ready to do that when the words seemed to spill uncontrollably from Tom's mouth, so he let the accented tones wash over him, setting his blood on fire as they always did.

"Joe, I'm going to—"

Joe pulled away quickly, not quite ready to brave that, thank you very much, but he took Tom's wet cock into his fist and stroked it as pale liquid spurted out to splash over Tom's abdomen. Joe grinned widely and met Tom's eyes, feeling smug.

"You bastard, looking like that," Tom said. "God, what you do to me… Untie me."

Joe tucked Tom's spent cock back into the silk boxers and then smeared his hand through the cooling mess on Tom's stomach. "Hmmm, no I don't think I will," he said. He picked up the gag and fisted it.

"You can't be ser—!" Tom's voice choked off as Joe replaced the gag and quickly tied it again. Tom thrashed and tried to speak through the gag.

Joe got to his feet and Tom went still, eyes travelling to Joe's crotch where his erection stood out prominently against the pale gray fabric. "Be a good boy and I'll be back for you," Joe said and went out. He walked a few steps down the hall and leaned against the wall as muffled thrashing sounds came to him once more. He chuckled wickedly, surprised at himself. He would give Tom a few minutes to sweat before going in to free him. For a price.

The Inception set had suddenly become a lot more interesting.
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