Steinway Chat

  • May. 16th, 2011 at 12:41 AM
toomuchplor: (arthur/eames card)
You know that horrifying thing that used to happen back in the olden days when your word processor would crash and your entire essay would disappear? With no hope of recovery? Remember that?

Yeah, that just happened to my beloved Lately. For reals. She lost pages and pages of a major paper due today (her time zone, not mine). Here's hoping for an understanding prof and a big deadline extension for her.

In happier times, we chatted about Eames and Arthur in Steinway.

Me: Eames actually rly likes Arthur's arms
he likes them even more later on
they are almost as good as Arthur's hands
Younger Eames tends to zoom in on some of Arthur's baser charms -- the bits no one else gets to see and admire -- but older Eames gains an appreciation for Arthur's arms, the arch of his foot, the little round wing of his ear

Lately: <3<3<3

Me: he likes that he can hold out his arms, three thousand miles away, and the span between his hands is exactly the width of Arthur's shoulders
like his body has memorized Arthur
He would never admit it either but he even likes Arthur's hairline
the way it is, the W

Lately: oh you are such a sentimental old fart, eames

Me: Eames thinks maybe he should be worried Arthur is going to go bald, the way his forehead is gaining ground
but mostly he likes Arthur's expressive forehead, the wiggly lines there, how he looks so brainy and scholarly when he bows over the keys, when he composes
Eames definitely meditates on these things
mostly when he's on a plane

And then there was another sort-of story, one where student!Eames takes Arthur to a gig and Arthur is out of place and uncomfortable and Eames sort of notices but not too much and then I wrote this:

Me: The crowd gels suddenly, the loose groups of people pushing forward into a proper audience and Arthur is jammed into Eames' side and he's dropped his cigarette butt and Eames is craning his head up at the stage and looking happy and eager

Lately: <3

Me: Older Arthur wouldn't do this for Eames
He loves Eames but he wouldn't do this
too close to the speaker and head ringing and body bumped and brushed by strangers and Eames jumping in place sloshing beer and jockeying for position closer to the stage

And Arthur still doesn't like the music, not really, and he doesn't like the almost-angry energy now waving off the crowd, and he doesn't like the adversarial feeling of everything, the way the band yells at them and they yell back and it's all -- rude. It's not the way Arthur likes things.

But Eames is loving it, loves all of it in some way Arthur now realizes he's never going to understand. It's the same way Eames loves rugby and action movies and having sex with girls, a whole range of things Arthur will never want to want.

For all the places he and Eames intersect, where they run together and overlap and blend, there are edges sticking out of both of them that will never quite mesh.

Younger Arthur worries about this.
He thinks maybe someone else is a better fit for Eames, someone who doesn't obsess over menswear and hair products, someone who doesn't read biographies of great pianists looking for the secret to success, someone who isn't allergic to dogs (because Eames loves dogs).

Arthur worries that Eames is going to find that person and then he'll see that Arthur isn't quite right for him.

And much as Arthur would like to fake his joy in this violently loud music, in Eames getting into a shouting argument with some asshole behind them, he finds that he can't, not even for the sake of keeping Eames.

Lately: oh ARTHUR.

Me: But it's Eames, of course, Arthur remembers, because Eames turns around scowling and slithers his hand around Arthur's waist, tucks Arthur to his side even as he gets back to the music on stage, insisting somehow that they do fit together, two gay classical music students entwined at a celtic punk gig with shoving noisy assholes all around who would probably say something if it weren't for the warning cut of Eames' t-shirt sleeve into his tattooed biceps.

"You're hating this," Eames shouts in Arthur's ear, amused.

Lately: <3

Me: Arthur makes a pained face, but when Eames starts to move, like he might be thinking of working their way out of the crowd and the club, Arthur nods up at the stage.

Lately: oh eames

Me: Eames gets it, gets what Arthur is telling him to do -- to get on with it and enjoy it and Arthur will cope

Later, after the gig, after Eames has nearly gotten into a stupid fight over something dumb
Arthur will be some combination of annoyed and amused and proud and exhausted
Eames will be mostly just drunk verging on belligerent

Lately: is it a fight over the last of a particular tshirt?
at the merch stand?
it could be intended for arthur
as a prize for having lasted the whole gig

Me: They'll go to an all-night diner because Eames is starving and Arthur can always make room for bacon (leftover rebellion from his upbringing)

Lately: hurrah!
(eames doesn't get the shirt, and arthur is relieved, cos it's HIDEOUS)

Me: Hahaha
plus Eames would have made him change right there
and Arthur's not a prude or anything
but he doesn't rly like taking off his shirt in public

Eames eats fries loaded with mayo (ew ew ew, thinks Arthur, but doesn't say it for once) and talks on and on about how fantastic that was
and Arthur eats his pancakes and bacon and kicks Eames' ankles fondly
and thinks that he has Eames for now at least.

At least he has that.

Eames' voice has gone hoarse, probably from all the shouting and smoking, but he keeps talking anyway and Arthur thinks there will be hell to pay on Monday at Eames' lesson

Eames reaches across the table

Arthur tenses, ready to spring into the defense of his last piece of bacon as needed
but Eames is actually gripping Arthur's forearm gently
stroking the underside with his thumb

Lately: awwww

Me: "Your arms are getting so hairy," he says idly

Lately: ahahah
oh eames
you romantic

Me: and it could be insult or teasing or come-on or all of the above, really

But Arthur knows perfectly well that all Eames is trying to say is, "I see you there."

"Well," Arthur says, "you've seen my dad and brother."

Lately: <3

Me: So finally they get in a cab again
and Eames is mostly sober by the time they get into his apartment, between three and four in the morning, but they're both so sleepy by now that they're bumping into walls and each other with fatigued clumsiness
Eames smells of beer and smoke and grease, and so does Arthur, but they strip down to shorts and crawl between cool sheets anyway, burrowing faces into their pillows and barely troubling to pull the covers up

Lately: <3

Me: Eames is finally done talking, it seems

Lately: aw

Me: Arthur thinks vaguely about wriggling over to get his arm up against Eames'; Eames is probably still drunk enough to allow it without his usual protestations about Arthur's cold limbs and bony body
but Arthur falls asleep before he can move at all

Lately: aw, boyyyyyys
*draws hearts*

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