Thankfully, their embarassment was overshadowed by the rise of fascism

[bauble]

A writing meme:
Pick a trope from this list and provide a fandom/pairing and I'll tell you something about the story I'd write for that combination (i.e. write a snippet from the story or write not!fic or tell you the title and summary for the story I would write) Current fandoms for me: Inception & Star Trek.

1. genderswap
2. bodyswap - written

Comments

[bauble]

"I feel as though I've stepped into a John Hughes movie," Eames says, because it's true: they're standing in a long hallway lined by lockers and classroom doors. There are rows of desks pitted with pencil marks and etchings on one side, defaced with multi-color gum on the other. He can even smell chalk dust in the air.

"Look, can you just--work with me here instead of stopping for color commentary every thirty seconds?" Arthur asks. He sounds only marginally more flustered than usual, but the tips of his ears are red and that gives Eames pause.

"This isn't where you went to school, is it?" Eames asks quietly. "This is a composite."

"You know I never dream exactly from reality," Arthur says, which is a bald-faced lie. "Too easy to lose track of which is which."

"Hey, Arthur," a couple of pretty girls in short uniforms--cheerleaders, Eames' database of American school systems systems--wave as they pass by. Another teenager, jaw too sculpted and body too developed to be based on anything but a movie star, punches Arthur lightly on the shoulder as he passes with a pearly-white grin.

"This isn't," Eames starts, but Arthur cuts him off.

"Fine, you caught me, alright?" Arthur looks down at the ground, jaw clenching. "I never went to this school, I never knew these people. This is all just--it might as well be a movie."

"Arthur." Eames reaches out to adjust the white lapels of Arthur's dress shirt underneath his grey pullover, polishes the round pin that proclaims, 'Arthur for class president!' "There's nothing wrong with a little fantasy. Teacher-student is very common. Bending over the captain of some sporting team or another?"

"This isn't really about sex." Arthur closes his eyes and sighs. "Which makes it even more embarrassing to talk about."

Eames thinks back to the way he looked, the way he felt as a teenager: awkward, gangly, desperate for approval, desperate to be liked. The transformation takes little more than a thought, and he takes Arthur's hand and presses it to Eames' cheek: clean-shaven, curve more filled with baby fat, skin only slightly pocked with acne. "I can listen."

Arthur opens his eyes, but doesn't look up. "My mother was a born again Christian who worried that the public school system would contaminate my mind with blasphemous ideas. So she homeschooled me. I spent year learning how to read biblical passages and not much else."

Eames watches Arthur's features flicker in the dream, taking on a nearly childlike youthfulness. "All I know about American schools is what I've seen in the movies as well."

Arthur finally looks up at Eames, eyes scanning over his face for any sign of mocking or cruelty. "Is this really what you looked like?"

"People tell me I used to be quite beautiful."

Arthur strokes Eames' cheek thoughtfully. "You were. But I like you better now--as an adult. A man."

[wldnst]

Lots of lampshading, here ;) So that wasn't too painful, was it? Seriously, though, I enjoyed what you did with this, and the idea that both of them only knew about American high schools from movies--I like it.

[bauble]

How could I not lampshade? ;)

I'm glad you enjoyed it. I started drifting off to sleep towards the end there, but I'll probably repost it later with all the typos fixed and bit more coherency ;)