Prompt Post No. 9
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Welcome to Round 9 of the Inception Kink Meme. This post will be closed to new prompts once it reaches five thousand comments.
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The first thing Arthur notices is Eames's tattoos. They were completely covered for Guys and Dolls, but right now, Eames is only wearing a pair of old jeans and a white tshirt that is transparent with sweat at the back. Arthur frowns at a tattoo poking out of Eames's sleeve, snaking its way up the back of his arm, drawing Arthur’s focus up to broad shoulders.
"Like what you see?" Eames asks suggestively and Arthur snorts in an entirely undignified manner, because there isn't a dignified answer to that question.
"Dom wants them covered. The tattoos. They're not appropriate for Paul." Arthur starts going through his pile of tops.
"I normally cover them with make-up" Eames offers as Arthur pulls the cloth measuring tape taut across his shoulders. He lifts his arms up to allow Arthur to measure his chest, all business, and this time Arthur is the unprofessional one, watching Eames's shoulder muscles bunch at the motion.
Actually, Arthur is pleasantly surprised at how innuendo free the measurement session goes. Or rather, how few comments Eames makes. Arthur's brain (which he currently hates with a passion) is a happily supplying all of the innuendo that Eames is not. He has spent all morning taking hip measurements, asking girls their bra sizes, learning everybody's height and weight. This is not the time for this he reminds his brain, adding that he can incapacitate it with his tape measure alone. (There's probably a logical fallacy in wanting to render himself brain dead, but he finds he doesn't care, because thinking about slicing a brain stem with a tape measure is successfully distracting him from thoughts of...)
Damn.
He realises he's been staring at his measurements chart for god-knows-how-long. Taking a second to actually read what he’s written, he finds he’s finished almost all of the measurements and he supposes it really is a sign that he's been doing this all day that he doesn't even remember doing it. The next measurement, according to this treacherous sheet, is the inseam. He holds out the end of the tape measure to Eames
"If you could hold this at your...inseam" he says, lamely. Normally, he demonstrates the location to girls, uses 'crotch' for guys. He's not entirely sure he trusts his body or voice to do either at this point, which is honestly ridiculous, and he should be above this.
"Was that really so hard?" Eames asks him, teasingly, which makes Arthur feel stupid, but is somehow better, because it means that this is back to being a joke. As much as Arthur hates being the butt of a joke, it means he can at least start blaming Eames again for his flustered mood.
He is still blaming Eames fifteen minutes later, when Yusuf walks in. Arthur spots a fresh bandage on his hand and guesses tech is over for the night. He grabs Arthur's notebook from the table and Arthur's lunge to get it back is only half-hearted, because it's been a long day and his computer is on his lap, so Yusuf ends up flipping through it.
"Those are confidential" Arthur remarks. "And Ariadne is at the front, not the middle. Their alphabetised by performer's first name, not character"
"Where's 'Eames'?" Yusuf asks, amused
"Under 'E'" Arthur says, through gritted teeth, as if personally offended that Eames was not only late, but had the audacity to mess up his organisational system. Yusuf just laughs at that, pauses, then asks
"So, codpieces?"
Arthur is not a petty man, but he still feels great satisfaction when his pen hits squarely between Yusuf's eyes.
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"Mal sent me to help. She said you scared off the freshman assigned to you, but since I'm here on her orders, you can't get rid of me" and Eames is smiling in a way that makes Arthur believe it.
"Can you even-” he starts to ask, but Eames begins rifling through costume sketches, so in the interest of the papers staying in something resembling an orderly stack, he switches to "yours is over here" instead, holding up the sketch labelled 'Paul'
"Giving my costume special attention? I'd be happy to make some suggestions" Eames says, leaning close, in a low voice that makes the sentence sound absolutely filthy.
"Working on covering your tattoos" Arthur responds, snatching the drawing back from Eames, who gives him a disbelieving look and frowns.
"I told you, the make-up works fine." Arthur shakes his head.
"It'll come off. On my costumes, and then I'll have to kill you, or on the marley, in which case Yusuf will kill you, then come after me for not thinking of it."
"Oh, but darling, it will only come off with sweat and physical contact. Just what did you have in mind?"
He gets a lap full of sequined pants in response.
----
The sewing sessions become a weekly occurrence.
Eames turns out to have a good, if unusual, eye for colour coordination and when Arthur is debating between two different tops for an actor, he finds himself setting them aside, waiting for Eames’s opinion. He endures flirting (of the elementary school spitball and pigtail pulling variety) and pet names in return. It frustrates Arthur to no end, not because of professionalism (that was a word that generally died in student run productions), but because there were times when it felt completely genuine.
----
Arthur spends the next month wrestling various types of stretchy fabrics into submission. He stabs himself frequently on piles of pins until, one evening, after drinking with Yusuf, Nash, and the other techies, he ends up making voodoo dolls/pincushions of Dom and Mal, for saddling him with this accursed fabric. He contemplates making one of Saito, their producer, but isn't entirely sure he could get away with it. Saito controls an uncomfortable amount of the theatre department. He instead turns his third pincushion into a certain British actor.
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"He's dancing this completely wrong." Arthur wouldn't go that far (though he isn't the choreographer, either), but he does wonder why Eames wasn't cast in the role. The over-the-top showiness, driven not just by arrogance, but by an honest joy in the work-it seems to fit everything Arthur knows about Eames. Paul is...shy. He is quiet and clever. He is vulnerable. He is not Eames.
But then Eames steps forward and the light irises in on him and Arthur understands.
It's not just the way he holds his body--Arthur has seen enough sub-par actors to know that's not enough. It's...ineffable, really. There's just something in the way Eames steps forward, hands bunched in his pockets, face ducked slightly that makes Arthur forget there's an actor on stage-he just sees Paul.
When he opens his mouth, it's as if there's no one else here-no theatre, no half-constructed set, no audience scribbling notes. It's one boy, exposing his soul completely for the listener to judge. It's intimate in a way Arthur had never known proscenium to be.
He realises, just as Eames is finishing his monologue, that he's taken no notes, but when Eames says, voice breaking, "my father turned to the producer and said: 'take care of my son'; that was the first time he ever called me that" and breaks down in tears, harsh sobs that tear through his entire frame, sinewy dancer muscle no match for the strength of the emotion, Arthur realises his vision is too blurry to take proper notes anyway.
He takes three pages of notes during "One" and is so absorbed in mentally rearranging his schedule to accommodate his newly enlarged costume workload that when Eames falls during the tap dance sequence, Arthur's breath catches in his throat and he's standing, cell phone in hand, before he remembers that it is Paul who has the bad knee, and it is Paul who just fell. Not Eames.
He stalks out of the theatre awkwardly, mumbling 'bathroom' as he passes the tech table, giving Yusuf a glare that promises death-by-speedwrench if he so much as smiles. Yusuf whispers something into the ear of the stage manager and Arthur realises belatedly that there's going to be a comment on this in the rehearsal report.
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He really needs to stop getting lost in thought, because Eames is right there, blowing cigarette smoke into the night. Eames offers a cigarette when Arthur draws near, which he accepts. There's something in the smile he gives Arthur as he hands over the lighter, something more open than flirtatious and the moment is so goddamn intimate that Arthur says:
"I was supposed to be a lawyer, so when my parents heard I was switching to theatre-I had already come out to them, but-I mean, my grades were too good to be-what I'm trying to say is my parents didn't approve, either" Eames tilts his head to the side, frowning slightly at him. The silence stretches between them and Arthur feels his words echo around in his head. Hears--wait. Fuck. 'either'. That's not what he meant at all. Before Eames can open his mouth, can comment on the fact that Arthur knows nothing about Eames's parents’ opinions of his career choice, he blurts out "you did really well", because he figures he's already made it obvious, and admiration is better than stupidly forgetting the difference between acting and what's real. He doesn't wait to see Eames reaction, but spins on his heal and stalks back into the theatre.
----
He avoids all of the actors except Ariadne for the rest of the week, sending his underclass lackeys to report back to him on any costume issues at rehearsal (with supplementary, actually useful notes from Ariadne, that he bribes out of her by supplying her with nutella sandwiches after runs). It's not a complicated show costume-wise, so Arthur feels entirely justified skipping rehearsals to concentrate on class work. There is a life after this show, after all.
As is tradition (or has been made tradition by Yusuf), the evening before the costume dress sees the tech crew grilling pizza on the PARcans. Arthur is still unsure if this is safe, but since none of them have gotten food poisoning yet, he figures it'll be fine. He still refuses to eat the pancakes (a charitable description, chosen more by the batter used to make them than the final shape of the food) Nash makes on the parnels, because at least Yusuf's pizza looks like pizza.
He spots Yusuf and Ariadne sitting on a road case (he'd complain about inappropriate use of resources, but it's preferable to grass stains and using lighting instruments to make pizza is probably equally inappropriate) and goes to join them, some sort of bacon-spinach-feta pizza in hand (he stopped asking about topping choices early on, trusting Yusuf's palette).
"I thought this was tech crew only?" he asks Ariadne. She shrugs and smiles,
"it's not as if I didn't design half the set anyway." Yusuf rolls his eyes,
"Miles was right when he advised us not to let Dom direct and design the set."
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Somewhere along the way, someone brings alcohol (which, honestly, Arthur was surprised was not there from the start, but perhaps Yusuf has played one too many practical jokes for anyone to ever drink anything supplied by him).
The PARcans are rearranged to provide some sort of dramatic lighting and Yusuf and Nash begin to tell techie lore to the newer students. Arthur can't quite hear, but it sounds like it’s about the disaster that was the Company set and seeing as how he was stuck holding it up for an hour after Yusuf realised belatedly that the measurements for the crossbracing was off, leaving Nash to quickly find a solution before the entire set collapsed around them, he figures he's not missing much.
"I saw it twice and would have never guessed it was that unsafe." says an amused voice in an unmistakable British accent from behind Arthur.
"What happened to this being tech crew only?" he grinds out, refusing to turn to look at Eames.
"Ariadne brought me along, something about getting in character." He says, which is the most blatant lie Arthur has heard in a while, because Ariadne, currently leading the circle of techies in a perfectly on-key rendition of 'One Day More' (with appropriately altered lyrics), loved abstract, conceptual sets and Eames was very, very definitely not Paul.
"I saw Company twice" Eames repeats into the silence, in a softer, slower voice, "because I couldn't understand how I came away feeling I knew both everything and nothing about the characters. How it felt like I had known Robert all my life, but could tell you nothing concrete about him." He pauses long enough that Arthur turns, not understanding the point Eames is trying to make. "Then I realised: it was the costumes." Arthur stares at him, suspicious, trying to see any signs that Eames is making fun of him. When he sees none, he comments,
"Funny. My advisor disagreed. She said it lacked imagination."
"At first glance, it's just a sea of black suits and dresses, but then you notice the details--how Amy's hem is fraying, like she's been picking at it; how Peter's tie colour suggests old New England money; how Sarah's dress doesn't quite fit properly, like her weight's changed since she bought it." And despite himself, Arthur feels the corners of his mouth tugging up into a smile, because Eames just noticed the details nobody else had, so when Eames says "and your costume for Martha. I would never accuse you of lacking imagination," then does such an accurate imitation of the actress who played Martha lounging back on the piano that Arthur forgets he made a fool of himself a week earlier, forgets the innuendo tacked onto that last sentence and smiles. He knows he must be smiling widely enough for his dimples to show because his cheeks are hurting and a sudden delighted grin is crossing Eames's features.
It's worth accidentally stepping on a discarded slice of pizza to kiss the insufferable expression off his face.
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----
He watches the final dress from the audience, sandwiched between Yusuf and Dom. This performance also served as a free preview for students and faculty of the university, so his main role tonight is to stop Dom from interrupting the run of the show unless absolutely necessary (which, at one point, includes handing Eames's scarf over to Mal to use as a gag. She gives him a look that is far too gleefully approving (which is uncalled for, because the scarf was forcefully wound around his neck earlier in the week, when Eames noticed him shivering) before shoving the green and purple monstrosity into Dom's mouth. A worthy sacrifice, as far as Arthur is concerned).
The show goes well, much better than any of the shows Arthur has been involved in recently. The last production he worked on with Dom, 'Inception', had been post-modernist and scrambled together at the last minute. Each night had been a mad dash to the final line, the tech crew working to keep the set and lights appearing functional and the cast improvising their lines around the constantly changing set. Arthur had been stage manager and had no desire to ever repeat the experience again.
'A Chorus Line' felt equally organic, but had a semblance of effortless control that 'Inception' had lacked, which Arthur suspected had something to do with Mal's presence. Dom was off without her, constantly pushing and putting on a very convincing display of single-minded insanity. (Though Mal's stage whispers (which Arthur could hear from the other side of Dom's mumbling complaints, which was something) during 'Music and the Mirror' suggested that she shared some of her boyfriend's fervour.)
When the lights blackout and the curtain drops, the scraggly audience around Arthur rises to their feet, faculty applauding appreciatively and students catcalling and shouting compliments to their friends. As the drape opens and the company steps forward for bows, it's not hard to see that the enthusiasm of the audience is mirrored in cast and crew alike (alongside looks of relief). As Ariadne steps forward for individual bows, Yusuf yells unintelligible things at the stage and Arthur wolf-whistles, because he's not the yelling sort of person and would have no idea what to yell even if he were. And then Eames steps forward and Arthur really doesn't know what to do and settles for clapping as loudly as possible while attempting to keep the grin on his face from mirroring Eames's goofy one. His eyes meet Eames's and, dammit, he knows his dimples must be showing and he probably looks like a teenager, but then Eames tries to simultaneous turn towards Arthur and bow and ends up falling magnificently on his face.
On stage, Eames is shouting a joke about his character's injury and method acting, but Arthur can't hear because Mal is howling with laughter a few seats down and Yusuf is giving him a conspiratorial smile and Arthur registers that his body is shaking before he realises that he's also laughing, all the tension of production week and confusion about Eames released in the laugh.
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Stumped for any other course of action, he takes it, and realises that, despite the shape, they're not flowers. Rather, they're pieces of fabric rolled around what looks like metal rods from the scene shop and secured with spike tape. Arthur looks up at Eames, who shrugs
"Ariadne said I should get you flowers, you know, to celebrate opening. Mal said I should get you ties. So I tried to compromise." Arthur peers closer at the fabric and realises they are the right size and texture for ties. He can't quite see in the dark of the night, but it also appears that at least three of them have a paisley pattern.
And if Arthur shoves Eames back against the brick wall in a kiss and if they later end up back in the theatre, the edge of the stage digging into Eames's back, Arthur's frantic hands lit only by the ghost light, then, well, that's just their reward for a successful performance.
----
"Ties?" he asks Mal, later, since she knows full well that he owns three ties of his own, which are in much more acceptable colours.
"You'll see" she replies, and Arthur does when a week before graduation he gets into a cab with Mal and ends up at a tailor. "Dom and I figure" she says, "now that you're no longer a student, you should get proper professional clothing" Arthur starts to protest that his sweaters, dress shirts, and occasional waistcoats and blazers are much more professional than the majority of his classmates-especially since Arthur alters all of his clothing, so that their fit is impeccable, none of this sagging business-but his student status necessitates that most of his clothing originates from thrift shops and Target, so if Mal and Dom are willing to pay for a suit, he's not going to complain.
He ends up with a dark, heathered grey three piece suit to wear to graduation. However, Ariadne, already changed, stops him before he can leave his apartment and voices her disapproval. Or, more specifically, her opinion that Arthur looks like he's going to a funeral. He disagrees with this view (and he should know. He is the costume designer), but agrees to change his tie, swapping the black tie for a dark red one. When he turns to get Ariadne's approval, she gives him a look that very clearly says: 'you-must-be-kidding' and starts rummaging through his closet to find an acceptable tie. When she emerges, she's holding one of the ties from Eames's bouquet (which Arthur had stored properly-just because he doesn't approve of the colour or pattern doesn't mean he can't appreciate the fabric). Mal enters at that moment and, looking from her crooked smile to Ariadne's determined one, Arthur knows this isn't a battle he's going to win.
Eames’s smile when they show up for the ceremony makes Arthur think that he might just have won as well.
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Sometimes, when money’s tight and Arthur passes lawyers and prosecutors on the street, he doubts. Wonders if somewhere along the way he made a mistake. Then he notices how all their faces have frown lines and their teeth clench as they send angry emails on their expensive smartphones and thinks of the way Ariadne and Dom freely create worlds from nothing, the way Mal composes people on the stage into four dimensional works of art, how Yusuf can build the impossible, how Saito would go to the ends of the earth to ensure the financial foundation for a worthy production, how Robert manoeuvres his father's disapproval into the emotional force behind his acting, and how Eames delights in recreating the smallest details from the most mundane of lives, appreciating the ignored.
Then, Arthur will adjust his pink and green paisley tie and stride down the sidewalk with an energy in his step the businessmen around him lack, a small smile on his lips.
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I'm not the OP, but dear lord does the theater!geek in me want to have your children right now! I love everything, your characters were wonderful and I love how you integrated them into the insanity that is the theater group. I love that everyone did a little of everything, I came from a small school so we all pitched in, made the whole experience a million times more fun. And then the Arthur/Eames scenes of adorable! They were fantastic and Arthur wears awful ties as an expression of his love!!!
I'm flaily and pretty sure this review makes no sense at all, but just know that this fic is brilliant and I LOVE YOU!
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Yeah, my current theatre group is the same way, so it's hard for me to write actors that only act, etc (some of the thing, like the pancakes, the unsafe sets, are definitely based on things we've done)
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<3
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Thank you for the comment~
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The theatre nerd part of your brain is a good part to have satisfied :D
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