sarahyyy: (T-Hard/JGL)
[personal profile] sarahyyy
Title: Your Love is Cold (Ice Cream Cold)
Author: [personal profile] sarahyyy   
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Ariadne
Word Count: 3845 
Summary: In which Eames is relentless in his courtship, Ariadne gives sage advice, Arthur gets tired of shaking his head and sexy times finally happen.
Disclaimer: Do not own. =(
A/N: This is the part that comes just before this other snippet. Hey! Look who's being all productive and writing Ice Cream Parlour AU? 8D


When Eames comes into the shop on a rainy Thursday, he is moaning dramatically, “Do you have ‘EVERYONE EXCEPT ARTHUR SHOULD DIE’ on the menu? Can I have that right now? Oh darling, you have no idea how cruel the world is to me! It's like you're the only good thing in my life.”

“Hey!” Ariadne says, frowning. “I take offence in that flavour.”

Arthur laughs. “Sorry, Eames, you heard Ari.”

“Ariadne, you are fired,” Eames says with a scowl.

Ariadne snorts. “Puh-lease,” she says, dragging the word out, “Firstly, you have no jurisdiction in this ice cream parlour. Secondly, this place would be horrid without me.”

“I don’t have jurisdiction in this ice cream parlour yet and this place has Arthur,” Eames contends, “ergo, it would never be horrid. Ever.”

“Arthur!” Ariadne whines, “He's being mean today. Can we kick him out? Or at the very least, can I throw ice cream cones at him? I know we have two boxes of the type of ice cream cones that you hate a lot. I can use that, or just the almonds. I am very flexible.”

Arthur shakes his head as Eames sticks his tongue out at Ariadne. “What are you two? Three years old?” He turns to Eames. “Eames, I'm serving you ‘MY DAY WILL GET BETTER’ and ‘I AM A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION’ now. You do not get a say.” He pauses and turns to Ariadne. “Ari, go flirt with Yusuf and get me coffee while you're at it.”

Ariadne pouts. “You don't pay me to go out and get coffee for you. And you keep taking Eames’ side! Clearly he's a bad influence. We should ban him from the ice cream parlour. I can make a banner and stuff.”

“I'm a paying customer,” Eames says, smirking, “I am always right.”

Ariadne sticks her tongue out at him, grabs her scarf from where it's hanging and asks Eames, “You want a latte too?”

“I have changed my mind,” Eames declares, “Clearly you are an amazing person who should be given a raise.”

Ariadne winks at him and says, “The customer is always right, Arthur!” before she leaves the shop.

Arthur laughs as he drizzles caramel sauce over Eames' ice cream. “It's like I own a kindergarten,” he says.

“You own an ice cream parlour,” Eames reminds him, “It's not that different.”

“Except I have to deal with adults acting like children instead of actual children,” Arthur says as he hands Eames his cone.

“I have every right to act like a child now,” Eames says loftily before he cringes. “My boss just threw the hugest project ever at me and it has a deadline four days from today. I can’t create the perfect advertisement in four days, Arthur. It’s impossible! Jesus Christ.”

“You'll be fine,” Arthur says in his most pacifying tone, “All you need to do is to spend less time moaning about it and more time working on it.”

Eames pouts. “You're mean today too. Am I not your favourite customer anymore? Has that grouchy-faced Grant replaced me? Do I need to fight him to get back on top of the charts and back in your good favour?”

Arthur shoots him a bemused look. “You know that Grant is only six, right?”

“He has beaten me by sheer seconds to the prestigious honour of being your 100th customer three days in a row now,” Eames reminds him. “I have every reason to suspect that he plans on stealing you away from me and I will most certainly not have that!”

Arthur just shakes his head, picks up the washcloth from the sink and moves to clean the tables.

“What did Grant get today?” Eames asks, sitting down at the table nearest to where Arthur is standing. “One scoop or two?”

Arthur arches an eyebrow. “Is there a difference?”

“When he gets a double scoop, he gets all clingy and holds onto you longer than he is supposed to after you kiss him on both cheeks, which by the way, is unfair because he is supposed to only get one,” Eames tells him. “Like yesterday.”

Arthur laughs. “Are you serious?”

“I am very observant,” Eames says with a grin. “It is why I know all.”

Arthur snorts. “Mr. I-Know-All, Grant didn't come in today,” he tells Eames, “but if he did, he'd have gotten two scoops because I promised him the next time he comes in, I'd give him two scoops with extra toppings.”

Eames' face falls. “How well do you know this Grant again?”

“Very well,” Arthur says, face deadly serious, “I've known him since he was born and I love him to pieces.”

“I think I am going to need more ice cream for this,” Eames moans. “You are oh so cruel to me, darling.”

Arthur laughs. “Grant is my nephew. My sister came down for a visit from LA. They've gone back now.”

Eames makes a show of breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank the heavens,” he says. “You shouldn't scare me like that. It's not really fair, making a joke out of my unwavering devotion to you.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at that.

“Hey, wait a tick!” Eames exclaims suddenly after he finishes with his ice cream. “If Grant wasn't your hundredth customer today, who was?”

Arthur doesn’t answer for awhile, but when he does, his lips tip up in a self-deprecating smile. “Unfortunately for me, Mr. Eames, you are.”

Arthur doesn't have much time to react before Eames literally pounces on him, backs him against the table, and presses his lips to Arthur's enthusiastically. He nips softly at Arthur's lower lip and licks into his mouth when Arthur grants him access, sucking softly on Arthur's tongue. Arthur is soft and pliant against him and Eames wants to just lose himself in Arthur and never let go.

He lets out an appreciative moan before he pulls away softly from Arthur.

“That was probably inappropriate,” Arthur says, slightly breathless as Eames trails his fingers lightly across his cheek, thumbing at his dimple.

“Not as much as your hug with Grant that lasted hours.” Eames grins before stepping away from Arthur.

“You are a ridiculous man,” Arthur says, walking back to the counter.

The bell on the front door jingles and Ariadne comes back in, a coffee tray in hand. “I got us all free lattes,” she announces, “Saito happened to be there and insisted on paying for me.”

“You are horrid for leading him on like that,” Arthur says, but accepts the proffered coffee.

Ariadne ignores Arthur in favour of looking suspiciously at Eames. “No conspiracy theories about how Saito is using me to get closer to Arthur and how he is going to whisk Arthur off to the Caribbean in one of his many yachts, give Arthur a drug to erase his memories and marry him one day?”

Eames laughs. “I am in a surprisingly good mood today; therefore I shall let that slide.”

Ariadne frowns. “But you were in a prissy mood when I left!”

Eames motions towards Arthur. “‘MY DAY WILL GET BETTER’ worked like a dream.”

“I bet you will be all mope-y again when I tell you what Mrs. Benton did today,” Ariadne says, wickedly gleeful, “She prowled outside the shop for hours today and—”

“And came in, got three different double scoop cones and polished them all in less than ten minutes,” Arthur interjects smoothly, shaking his head firmly at Ariadne out of Eames' line of vision. “Let's save the theatrics for another day, shall we?”

Ariadne smirks at him. “You are a horrid, horrid man.”

Eames frowns. “Why would Mrs. Benton getting ice cream make me mope-y?” he asks Ariadne. “Are the both of you having an inside joke at my expense?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Stop worrying and go back to work, Mr. Eames.”

Eames dutifully stands up from his seat and moves to make his way out of the shop. He turns back to Arthur when he is at the door and asks, “Darling, would you like to grab dinner with me tonight?”

Arthur smiles at him softly, but shakes his head. “Sorry, Eames. I already have plans today.”

Eames' grin falters as disappointment takes its place. It lasts for only a moment but Arthur catches it because he is looking for it.

“With Saito,” Ariadne adds jokingly and ends up the recipient of twin glares.

“I'll try my luck again tomorrow,” Eames says, smiling. “You'll get tired of shaking your head. I can wait it out.”

The moment Eames is out of the door, Ariadne turns to Arthur. “You told him he was the hundredth customer, didn't you?” she asks, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Arthur nods, seeing no reason to lie; Ariadne already knows.

“Did you kiss him?” Ariadne asks excitedly. “No, wait, of course you did. Did you snog him? Was there tongue and was it hot?”

Arthur sighs and flushes beet red but nods all the same.

“You like him!” Ariadne exclaims, a wide, demented grin on her face. “Arthur! You like him!”

“I don't actually kn—”

“Shut up, Arthur,” Ariadne cuts in, “You like him. End of story. Why didn't you say yes to dinner just now?”

Arthur shrugs and looks uncomfortable.

“Is it because of Robert?” Ariadne asks, a great deal gentler.

Arthur has a story that he doesn’t like telling.

Back when Arthur first opened his ice cream parlour, he had fallen in love with the quiet, mysterious bookstore owner from around the corner. Everyone (including Arthur, especially Arthur) had been pretty sure they would end up living happily ever after but one day, about eight months into their relationship, Robert just disappeared. Arthur had spent two whole months doing nothing except looking for Robert, hiring private investigators, pasting posters randomly around town... He hadn't been successful. He'd eventually given up, though, and carried on with life.

“I don't know, maybe,” Arthur says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I'm not sure if I am ready to be in a relationship again.”

“Arthur, what happened with Robert was three years ago,” she says quietly. “I think it's about time to put it all behind you.”

“I have put it all—”

Ariadne shuts him up with a look. “You refuse to repaint the door to the backroom even though the paint is starting to peel off because Robert painted that bloody door for you back when you first opened the shop.”

“That's not— I don't— I just— I like the colour,” he ends up saying and it sounds lame even to his own ears.

“You wear the same shirt you wore three years ago every year on the day he disappeared,” Ariadne says. “I'm pretty sure that doesn't fit the definition of ‘putting it behind you’. It’s probably the furthest thing away from ‘putting it behind you’. It's unhealthy.”

Arthur sighs. “I don't know,” he says after awhile, “Robert and I, we— I keep thinking he's going to come back. And he never does.” Arthur's voice cracks towards the end and it’s stupid that he still feels like this. He knows it’s stupid.

Arthur lets Ariadne pull him in a hug. “Robert's an asshole for letting you go. But you have Eames now and you’ll be an even bigger asshole if you let him go.”

“I won't be able to take the same blow twice,” Arthur admits. “I might die of heartache.”

“Eames' melodrama is rubbing off you,” Ariadne says with a small laugh. “I'm can’t promise that it's not going to happen again, but you need to take a leap of faith and trust that Eames will be there to catch you. If that doesn't work, I will sacrifice myself and marry you.”

Arthur snorts a laugh. “I would take you up on your offer, but Yusuf would kill me.”

“What can I say? I'm worth killing for.” She lets her arms fall from Arthur's back and moves away to pick up the ice cream scoop. “Say yes when he asks you tomorrow,” she tells him, “He's not going to wait for you forever.”

She passes Arthur a scoop of ‘I WANNA DO BAD THINGS WITH YOU’ in a cup.

“By 'I', I mean Eames, and by 'bad', I mean sexy.”

Arthur laughs and then says, “I think Eames is right. You do deserve a raise.”


Arthur has had a very bad day.

He hasn’t had a single customer walk into the ice cream parlour since he opened the shop at ten in the morning. The sun is blisteringly hot outside, which should ratchet his sales by at least 40%, but not a single person has walked in and seriously, how is that possibly? He averages on one hundred and twelve customers a day. He knows because he’s drawn charts.

It doesn’t help that Eames is late today. Eames is normally very time-conscious because he believes that if he comes in at three o’clock in the afternoon, he will be Arthur’s hundredth customer. But no, it’s five past three and there is no Eames, just as there has been no customer the whole day.

He sighs. “I think we should close up early,” he says to Ariadne, who is sitting at one of the tables, reading a novel.

“What? Why?” She looks up with a frown. “Eames isn’t here yet. Is this your way of worming out of agreeing to go on a date with Eames?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “There hasn’t been a single customer today and Eames is late. It reasons that he isn’t coming in today too.”

Ariadne opens her mouth to say something then closes it almost immediately. “Do you think you could close up by yourself? If you don’t mind, that is. Yusuf asked if I could go over. He’s come up with some new concoction and he wants me to test it for him.”

Arthur shrugs. “Tell him he needs to start paying half of your wages for me.”

“He mostly pays his share in our free coffees,” she reminds him with a grin, grabs her bag and walks out of the shop, flipping the close sign as she does.

Arthur sighs and starts to wipe down the counter, mostly out of habit rather than necessity. He is in the backroom, trying to find a packet of almonds that he can bring home with him when the bell on the front door jingles.

“Sorry, we’re closing!” Arthur yells from the backroom. He saw Ariadne flip the sign. How is it that his first customer of the day comes in only when the shop is closed?

“It’s not what the sign says.”

And oh, that’s Eames’ voice.

Arthur stares blankly at the stocking shelf for a moment before he walks out.

“Darling!” Eames says, smiling. “I’m touched that you’d make such an exception for me.”

Arthur frowns. “What exception?”

Eames laughs. “I had a feeling you were in the dark about the sign, but it was still nice to pretend.” He walks to the front door, opens it and plucks a cardboard sign off where it’s placed directly before the open and close sign. He brings it back and hands it to Arthur. “I think it is Ariadne’s doing.”

The cardboard sign says “STAY AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE UNLESS YOU ARE EAMES” in Ariadne’s loopy handwriting.

Arthur rolls his eyes at that. “I think I might have to rethink that raise.”

“I don’t know,” Eames says as he settles down on his usual table, right next to the counter, “I think it’s lovely of her. You should give her twice the raise.”

“I haven’t had a single customer the whole day,” Arthur says with a scowl.

Eames beams. “So instead of being your hundredth customer like I hoped I would be, I am your first customer today? How delightful!”

Arthur shakes his head at Eames. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Eames?”

“I don’t know, Arthur,” Eames says, tapping at his chin idly with his forefinger, “I’ve never been your first customer before. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel. Why don’t you surprise me?”

Arthur picks up his ice cream scoop and wavers for a few seconds before he scoops a mound of ‘I WANNA DO BAD THINGS WITH YOU’ onto a cone. He thinks that if this doesn’t work out and he ends up being humiliated, he’s going to make Ariadne work for him for free for a year before he fires her. “Order’s up.”

“What have you got there for me, darling?”

Arthur can totally back down now. Eames was tapping into his phone when Arthur was scooping the ice cream so he wasn’t exactly paying attention to what Arthur got for him. Arthur can bluff, say it’s a new, unnamed flavour and Eames won’t come over to check.

He doesn’t back down.

“‘I WANNA DO BAD THINGS WITH YOU’,” Arthur says, straight-faced and determined.

Eames’ eyebrows climb up high. “I’m sorry?” he asks and he sounds shocked.

Arthur fights down the blush that is threatening to bloom all over his face. “You heard me fine the first time, Mr. Eames.”

For a long moment, all Eames does is to blink at him, jaw slightly slacked. Arthur doesn’t dare to move, doesn’t really dare to breathe, but then the next second, Eames is closing in on him, leaning over the counter to cup Arthur’s face in his hands and then he is kissing him.

The ice cream cone falls onto the ground with a splat but neither of them could care less.

“Darling,” Eames breathes against Arthur’s lips, “not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on?”

Arthur gives him a small smile. “I got tired of shaking my head.”

And then Eames is pulling away and rounding the counter and pressing him flush against the sink. Arthur curls his fingers around Eames’ waist and decides that he likes the fit of Eames around him and then wonders for a second why they didn’t do this earlier.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eames says, nipping at his earlobe. “That makes me feel very insecure about my seduction skills.”

Arthur laughs. “Your seduction skills are fine,” he assures Eames.

“Fine?” Eames asks in mock outrage. “Fine is such bland adjective, love. Clearly, I have to step up my game.” His hands slide down Arthur’s side to cup his hardening cock through his trousers, squeezing lightly. “Is this better?” he murmurs.

Arthur chokes on a groan. “Eames, we can’t- Not here, people will see- Eames.”

“We can’t stop,” Eames groans in protest. “That’d be just downright cruel, pet.”

“We’d be arrested for public indecency,” Arthur says. He doesn’t take his hands off where he’s snaked it around Eames’ shoulders, though. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to be escorted to the police station and have everyone in town talk about it for weeks.”

Eames grins and pulls Arthur closer, rutting against his thigh shamelessly. “I’d make it worth it, though. I promise.”

Eames, I will throw my ice cream scoop at you,” Arthur says but he knows he’s nowhere near threatening, not when Eames’ mouth is pressing soft, almost reverent kisses against his skin, Eames’ hands are tight on his hips and Eames’s cock pressing so deliciously against his own.

Eames draws away from Arthur’s neck slightly. “Do you have a better idea? And no, stopping is not a better idea.”

Arthur laughs and takes Eames’ hand, pulling him towards the backroom. “If you break any of my ice cream cones, I’m banning you from the shop.”

“I’ll be careful,” Eames says gravely, eyes twinkling as he backs Arthur to one of the shelves before seeking out Arthur's lips, urgent and purposeful, kissing him like he'll never stop, like he'll never get enough. “God, Arthur,” he murmurs, voice rough with arousal, “I want to do so many things to you, pet. My brain cannot even process what to do first.” He pauses for a moment to undo the button on Arthur’s jeans, hands quick and capable, before he all but shoves them down Arthur’s hips. “Okay, that was a lie. I really want to suck you off, darling. Can I, please?”

He doesn’t wait for Arthur’s reply before he sinks to his knees and starts to mouth Arthur’s cock through his underwear, which is a good thing because Arthur cannot really trust himself to say anything except oh God, Eames.

When Eames finally takes him into his mouth, Arthur almost loses it. Eames’ hands are pressed firmly against his hips, his thumbs massaging the soft skin there. He doesn’t take his gaze off Arthur and Arthur thinks that Eames is probably cataloguing his reactions and the thought sends a sharp spark of arousal down his spine.

Eames’ mouth is gentle and coaxing around him and he looks positively obscene with his lips pursed over Arthur’s cock and Arthur’s hips jerk up instinctively. Eames looks up at Arthur through hooded eyes and smiles around his cock before sucking down harder.

“Eames,” Arthur breathes and tightens his hold on Eames’ hair. “Oh God, Eames, I’m going to- Eames.” And then he is coming, hips snapping and blood rushing in his ears.

Eames smirks. “Is that a good Eames or a bad Eames?”

Arthur lets out a breathy laugh. “It’s a good Eames. C’mere.”

Eames presses a kiss on Arthur’s hip and stands up, so they are facing each other again. “Christ,” Eames says as he presses a kiss to the corner of Arthur’s upturned lips, “is it bad that I’ve wanted to do this pretty much since the first time you kissed me?”

“It’s pretty bad,” Arthur replies, but his hands are shakily unbuttoning Eames’ trousers all the same. “You know what’s worse?” Arthur asks amidst Eames’ moan when he finally gets his hands on Eames’ cock, “We haven’t even had our third date yet.”

“Not for my lack of trying,” Eames points out breathily. He is about to say something more when Arthur tightens his grip slightly on his cock and Eames can’t do anything but bury his head in the crook of Arthur’s shoulder and moan as Arthur jerks him off. He comes moments later, sagging against Arthur, body trembling all over.

He presses his lips against the corner of Arthur’s “Darling, will you have dinner with me tonight?”

Arthur dimples but shakes his head.

Eames’ hands tighten where they rest on Arthur’s waist. “Darling, you-”

“You have a deadline on Monday,” Arthur tells him serenely. “Finish your work tonight, Mr. Eames, and we’ll have dinner tomorrow.”

A wide grin unfurls on Eames’ face. “And breakfast on Saturday?”

Arthur nods.


Arthur nods.


Arthur just keeps nodding, grinning like he doesn’t know how to stop. And he’s not exactly sure he wants to, even if he knows how.

“And breakfast on Sunday too?” Eames asks, looking absolutely delighted.

Arthur laughs and kisses Eames quickly. “We will have to see about that, but let’s just say for now, that everything is negotiable if you finish your work today.”


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January 2012

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