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“Eames,” Arthur said, frowning, “where did you get these condoms?”
Eames was on his back, legs over Arthur’s thighs, prepped and ready to be fucked proper. Arthur pausing to squint at the oddly marked condom packet wasn’t exactly keeping him in the mood.
“It’s just a box I bought, can’t remember where, international criminal and all,” Eames said. “It doesn’t matter, surely?”
“I can’t read this language and the pictures are weird,” Arthur said, tearing the pink and blue packet open.
“Well, no one will be looking at it shortly, do get a move on, darling,” Eames said, starting to get a bit impatient.
Arthur put the condom on as Eames watched avidly. No sooner had Arthur put it on properly, however, than several things happened -- he was left holding an empty condom, his cock had vanished, he had long hair, and he had breasts.
Startled, he dropped the condom, his hands flying to his straight dark hair, which tumbled down his narrow shoulders. Almost immediately, however, he instead cupped his small, perfect breasts, staring at them.
“Arthur,” Eames managed to say, sitting up a bit.
“Oh my god, what the hell,” Arthur said, looking to Eames with panic on his -- her? -- his -- face. Arthur’s voice was low pitched, husky, but definitely feminine.
“Does this mean you’re not going to fuck me?” Eames asked, disappointed.
“Asshole, we’ve got more important things to worry about than whether you’re getting fucked.” Arthur had, however, become distracted by his breasts.
“Oh, it’s not so bad, is it?” Eames sat up properly, reaching to wrap his hand in a lock of Arthur’s long hair. “You’re lovely. I always thought you’d be lovely as a girl.” He moved to cup Arthur’s hands over Arthur’s breasts; Arthur frowned but didn’t stop him.
“Looks like you’ll be fucking me, now,” Arthur said, nodding toward Eames’ erection. “And you’re going to use one of these damn condoms, too. If I have to, you have to. And I’m not getting pregnant like this.”
“Absolutely, darling. It’s been some time since I’ve fucked a woman but as I recall, it was quite pleasant,” Eames said, as Arthur lay on his back, legs spread.
“You’re going down on me first,” Arthur said.
“Not without attending to your nipples first,” Eames said, getting down to business, kissing every inch of Arthur’s breasts, down his stomach, and to his inner thighs. Arthur was voicing a protest at his teasing when Eames finally started giving his lovely new bits a good licking, and it was difficult to get him to keep still after that; he came squirming and crying out, shuddering.
“Eames, fuck me,” he panted.
Without thinking about what he was doing, Eames blindly grabbed for a condom and put it on, and had a moment to hope this condom would do something different before he found himself holding it, empty, and looking down at his own breasts.
“Shit,” Arthur said, struggling to sit up, hands immediately going for Eames’ breasts. “Your nipples are bigger than mine,” he observed.
Eames was more used to seeing himself in different guises in dreams than Arthur was, but this was a bit different to that, and for a moment he mutely stared down at Arthur’s delicate hands on his very round breasts. “Well spotted, Arthur,” he finally said. “Oh, listen to how sexy my voice is.” Then Arthur kissed him, his hands going to Eames’ long, slightly curling hair. Eames started putting his hands anywhere he could reach.
Arthur broke after a bit to say decisively, “We’re sixty-nining,” and Eames quickly moved into position. It was the best half-hour of Eames’ life.
Arthur, exhausted and oversensitive but very flushed and pleased-looking, eventually collapsed back onto the bed and pulled Eames in for kisses.
“These things do get in the way,” Eames remarked some time later, looking down at their breasts. “How long do you reckon we’ll be like this?”
“I have no idea,” Arthur sighed, closing his eyes. “Right now, I don’t really care.”
They woke up with their original body parts. After they commiserated over their lack of breasts, as they both were hard Eames talked Arthur into trying to fuck him again, this time with another variety of condom, judging from the different colors of the packets. He put it on, and in a blink, Eames was confronted with the wonderful but intimidating sight of two identical Arthurs.
“God be praised,” said Eames after a pause.
“You’re an atheist,” both Arthurs said at once.
“I might not be anymore,” Eames said, staring.
Eames didn’t have to do much persuading at all to soon end up sandwiched between the two Arthurs, both of them fucking him at the same time. This surpassed their temporary lesbian escapade as the best half-hour of his life.
Exhausted, he talked the two Arthurs into making out with each other and committed every moment of the sight and every sound to memory before they all fell asleep in a pile.
When he woke up, there was one Arthur again, his hair mussed, snoring, with his mouth gaping slightly. Eames pulled him onto his chest; Arthur stirred briefly, muttered “Enchanted condoms” and fell back into a deeper sleep.
“Yes, love,” Eames whispered, petting his hair.
When Arthur woke up later on, he decided it was Eames’ turn to put on a condom. Eames did, and Arthur got on his hands and knees, and everything seemed quite normal until the base of Eames’ cock started to swell inside Arthur.
“Eames,” Arthur said, strained.
“Hang on, love,” Eames said, moving his hips with his newly thickened cock just slightly, experimental, until Arthur groaned and collapsed forward onto the bed. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” Arthur replied, muffled. “Yes. It feels amazing, oh my god.” Before Eames could interject, Arthur got a hand on himself and quickly came, rather a lot, with a long, guttural groan. “Didn’t think you’d go in for semi-bestiality, darling,” Eames said, but Arthur just moaned and shoved back against him, and soon Eames was coming too, licking Arthur’s hand clean.
As Eames couldn’t pull out, they moved to lay on their sides, spooning, and as alarming as it was having a cock with a base too swollen for withdrawal, it was pleasant falling asleep inside Arthur.
They awoke normal once more, separated, with the condom gone. They each had a flight out, however, and didn’t have a chance to try another condom.
While they slept together quite often, and it was always good and often spectacular, they were by no means exclusive. The following week, Eames looked at his condom variety pack and saw the only ones left were all the same, and there weren’t many; Arthur must have nicked some. Eames felt mildly jealous and indignant at the thought of Arthur trying out the enchanted condoms with someone else.
One evening, he and his sometime gentleman friend Andreas were getting rather into it; Eames warned Andreas that these condoms were a bit weird, but as Eames put it on he immediately lost his erection. Andreas never topped, and was quite put out, and left in a huff (they had no other condoms handy). With the condom off, Eames got hard again and jerked off rather sadly, and just before he went to bed he received a text from Arthur.
took some of your condoms. the last ones in the box apparently give you e.d.
serves you right, Eames replied, following that with same thing happened to me as he felt meanly pleased that Arthur hadn’t had sex with anyone else, either. Well, not with those condoms, anyway.
ha ha was Arthur’s only reply.
They saw each other again several weeks later. Through terribly poor planning, however, the only condoms Eames had handy were the last of the enchanted ones. He didn’t realize it until Arthur was putting it on. “Wait, Arthur, that’s-- Hm,” he said, both of them looking at Arthur’s unflagging erection.
Eames picked up the wrapper to look at it more closely. All over it were tiny cartoon hearts holding hands and frolicking. He grabbed another packet, opened it, and rolled the condom on. He, too, remained hard. Arthur took the packet and looked at it, and then they looked at each other.
“So. With these condoms with lovey-dovey hearts on the wrapper, we can only have sex with each other,” Arthur said, and cleared his throat.
“That would appear to be the case,” Eames said.
“So. We’re.” Arthur cleared his throat again. “Eames, I think I might love you.”
Eames nodded slowly. “I’ve most likely loved you since I first saw you. Now do fuck me, Arthur, it’s been ages.”
“No more enchanted condoms,” Arthur said, and Eames nodded. Arthur took off the condom, and Eames took off his as well.
“How about no more condoms, full stop?” Eames said, and, smiling, Arthur leaned in to kiss him.
Arthur was balls-deep inside him in short order. “I didn’t tell you when it was happening,” Arthur said, “but you make a gorgeous woman.”
“Is this really the time?” Eames managed to say.
“I don’t tell you things enough,” Arthur panted, looking hilariously serious.
“Darling, you just told me you thought you loved me.” Eames stroked his fingers reassuringly through Arthur’s damp waves, biting back a laugh. Arthur was still frowning a bit.
“But I could have said that years ago.”
“But then we might never have used the enchanted condoms, and think of all the fun we’d have missed,” Eames soothed.
“Speaking of enchanted condoms, I recant what I said earlier. You should get some more of those,” Arthur said, changing his angle and bringing fresh sweat to Eames’ brow. “Then one of us can turn into a woman and the other one can put on the one with the hearts on the package.”
“Brilliant idea, Arthur,” Eames gasped out, arching his back.
“I know,” Arthur replied, sounding smug and looking like everything Eames had ever wanted.