Moonlight Serenade

[ofvanity]

Title: Moonlight Serenade
Author: ofvanity 
Pairings: Ariadne/Cobb
Word Count: 1500~
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None. 
Disclaimers: I claim no ownership of the bountiful Inception kingdom nor of it's beautiful rulers, (i.e., King Nolan, Prince Arthur, etc, etc.). I am merely a peasant. Title goes to the forever brilliant, Glenn Miller.
Author's Note: Written for this prompt: She walks in on him playing the piano in the middle of the night. With a cigarette in his mouth. After he's finished, he fucks her over the piano." 
I wasn't originally going to do this, I was on a serious Arthur/Cobb kink at the time and saw this and thought, well, shit. But, uh, I realized that  it was kind of douchey of me to neglect the OP's original pairing and gave in when I realized I've never actually written heterosexual sex before and was roused by the challenge. I sifted through a bunch of Ariadne/Cobb fic for this, trying to get a feel for their dynamic because in the movie I only get a Father/Daughter vibe. Hence, if the characterization is off or wonky, I apologize to all Ariadne/Cobb shippers/readers in advance. Also, this is unbeta'ed, so any mistakes are no one's fault but mine.  <3
mmary: Cobb fucks Ariadne over a piano.

It was almost four in the morning when she woke up to it, the soft noise coming from downstairs.  Ariadne rolled over, ignoring it. The kids were in Vermont for the weekend with their grandparents, so it couldn’t be them. There was a dusty piano downstairs and the bed next to her was empty so it wasn’t that difficult to put two and two together. She had no real intention of getting up until she recognized the song. It was a Parisian lullaby her roommate used to sing when she was blow-drying her hair. It was haunting and she couldn’t help but grab her robe and let it flutter around her thighs as she headed down the stairs.

The living room was dark, glowing in silhouettes of light coming from Cobb’s study. Tying the robe around her waist, she moved towards the room, leaning on the frame of the door to watch him play. The study was dark, too, light only by the dim light of a table lamp. It reflected off the tall window, making the room a soft shade of fuzzy yellow.

Cobb sat with his back to her, the piano facing an open window. He was barefoot against the hardwood and naked except for the pair of black slacks he was wearing before having gone to bed. The blades of his shoulders rose and fell with ease as his hands slid across the keys. Every time he turned to watch his hands, Ariadne caught sight of a thin cigarette, dangling with ash on his lips. The smoke rose and curled over his head, smelling thick and heavy like a carcinogenic should.

Her feet moved slowly across the hardwood, until she was pressed against his back, curling her hands around his biceps and taking the smoke from his mouth. He stopped the song and turned to let her take the cigarette. She slides the stick out and replaces it with her fingers, thumbing the curve of his lips. “It’s late.”

He raises a hand to wrap around her wrist, stroking the pulse. “Did I wake you?”

She hums in the affirmative, flicking ash off the cigarette before bringing it to her mouth. He cranes his neck to watch her smoke and then she stubs it out in the ashtray on top of the lid of the piano. “It’s fine, though. Why are you awake?”

He shrugs, patting the seat next to him on the bench for her to sit, “I just have a lot on my mind,” he plays a few absent chords, “Working at the university leaves a lot of time for reading and thinking,” another set of chords, light but coordinated and Ariadne watches his fingers spin across the keys. “It’s not a big deal, it’s just making me restless.”

Ariadne sits next to him and the silk of her robe falls to show the creamy white of her thighs. She slides a hand up and down the curve of his back, feeling the ripple of his muscles as he moves across the piano. There is something dangerously alluring about how he moves, pulling an unhindered want out of her. He doesn’t reach for another cigarette but there’s a half empty carton of Marlboro reds on the lid, next to the ashtray. The thought of him down here, smoking and playing strikes a decisive lust in her belly. Ariadne can’t stop her hands, gliding across his body. She wants to play,  too.

In between a pause, she lifts her hand to tug on the hair at the back of his neck. He turns into her and she catches his mouth, slicking his lips with her tongue. The keys falter and he drops his hand on her thigh, sliding up into the opening of her robe. Another hand undoes the bow and the robe falls open, baring her naked stomach and the teasing curve of her breasts.

She breaks the kiss to lift herself across his lap. Cobb’s hands slide along the curve of his waist until his hands settle on her hips to hold her steady. She palms his jaw and kisses him, holding him in place until he opens up to her. There is a hesitation there that she always manages to work away. She works the roof of his mouth, flicking gently as his breathing starts picking up. Ariadne feels a spike of heat rush through her body and his hands roam her fevered skin.

This is the first night that Ariadne has ever spent in the Cobb house. She knows it’s dangerous ground to walk on, with the children and a widower, but. Ariadne’s  a big girl now. She likes reminding Cobb of it. Once in the kitchen, twice in his bed and on her knees in the shower. The piano feels like an adequate venue for a repeat performance.

Cobb breaks the kiss and turns his mouth onto her neck, cupping and pinching her nipples with his hands. Ariadne starts breathing in hitched little moans and then she can feel him hard against the inside of her thigh. She grinds down, rubbing her body into his for the slight tremor in his muscles he always does when he wants more. Licking a wet path down her chest, he takes a nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue against the hardened nub. She scratches lightly at the back of his neck, rubbing herself against the thin cotton of his slacks again.

She doesn’t even register that he’s shut the fall over the piano keys and he’s lifting her onto it. There is only a moment where his hands are gone but they return, strong at her thighs. Then another moment where his mouth is off and then back at her collarbone. In the shift up, she snakes her hands down and undoes his slacks, letting them drop to the floor. He’s bare underneath and she lets the sleeves of the robe fall off her in a heap. The piano is cool touching her skin but when she feels the press of his cock against her folds, she can’t feel the cool anymore.

She kisses him again, with tongue and their lips smack with vigor, moaning in higher octaves when his free hand slides a blunt nail against her slick skin. Cobb trails up and down her folds, rubbing quickly at her clit before reaching down and sliding a finger in. Ariadne lifts her hips, trying to facilitate his movement, arching for more. He curls in a second finger and rubs his thumb over her clit again, slowly.

She arches, leaving his mouth to whine against his neck, sucking marks over the ones she’s left before. Her hands reach into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He can never resist it when she whines like that. He removes his fingers and slides into her in one deft movement. Her body convulses around him, achingly warm and wet. She wraps her legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back until he’s fully sheathed. He pulls out and slides back in in slow movements, forcing her focus to it, just the constant pressure of Cobb  filling her up.

Cobb cups a breast in his hand, rolling the nipple between his fingers as he moves into her in an almost gentle rhythm. They must be tired. She arches and rolls her hips for every thrust, moaning his name over and over in breathy little sighs. The build up is gradual, so much so they hardly register it but before he knows it, she is keening like she does when she’s close, so he picks up the pace, skin slapping and his hands grip her waist to keep her in place.

Ariadne scratches at his back, pushing him further into him, begging for it. Her mouth works at a spot on the underside of his jaw, gnawing softly. Her nails are scratching angry red lines down his back that are almost comforting. He keeps going faster, rocking her into the piano, over the fall, holding back his climax. She arches into his body again and comes in a long clutch of muscles. She clenches around him, warm and tight and unfathomably wet and he comes, pumping back into her until neither of them can take it.

He holds her against him, breathing suddenly cool breaths against her shoulder. Ariadne is panting, running her hands down his back to soothe any places she might’ve cut skin. The world slides back into focus but only slowly, her body is throbbing and the room is actually colder than she remembers it being. There is a full body flush crawling back into place all over Cobb’s body and the piano is slick with sweat and the come slipping out of her body. She’s on the pill, and they’re both clean so between them, they’re covered.

When they’re breathing has slowed to a relatively normal pace, Cobb pulls on his clothes and ties her robe. He lifts her against his chest and onto the floor. On wobbly legs, he leads her back upstairs. They tumble on the sheets together and he presses closemouthed kisses on her knees and her bellybutton, bared again for him. The next time she wakes up, the house is silent and Cobb is at her side.

Comments

[ofvanity.livejournal.com]

Lmao, thank you so much, but it's a true story! I swear, and it was actually challenging for me. It was good, though, I might do it again. I will post it there, TYSFM. =D

♥