Prompt Post No. 12

Dec 22, 2010 00:00

Welcome to Round 12 of the Inception Kink Meme. Prompting System
  • Prompt post will temporarily close to new prompts at 2000 comments.
  • Forty-eight hours later, post will reopen to new prompts and temporarily close again when 4000 comments are reached.
  • Forty-eight hours later, post will reopen to new prompts and permanently close to all new prompts ( Read more... )

mod post, round 12, prompt post

Leave a comment

Re: fill: now, baby, I believe (warning: underage, 14/?) anonymous March 30 2011, 17:43:21 UTC
After a rather interesting trip up the front stairs, accomplished only with the aid of Eames' hand (which was like monstrously huge, okay?) on his waist, and a little fumbling with the door key, they made it in. Eames sat him at the kitchen table and busied himself at the sink, washing his hands, before peeling off his leather jacket.

"You mind if I poke about in your fridge a little?"

"Go ahead."

Now that Eames was a whole three feet away, Robert kind of missed the contact. So maybe he'd leaned against Eames just a little more than was strictly necessary, but he was certain God could forgive him that one. And if he couldn't, well, who cared anyway? Eames sat next to him and pushed a can of Coke across the table, popping another open for himself and drinking-maybe more like slurping, honestly-it thirstily. He might have been concerned for the fact that this in no way kept him from being just as stupidly fond of Eames as he had been before, but they were past that point.

There wasn't enough blood north of his waistband to sustain a blush anyway.

"So," Eames said, "is it just you and your dad?"

"Yeah." He swallowed a mouthful of soda, throat suddenly dry.

"And your mum?"

He shrugged. "She left when I was eleven."

"That recently?" Eames slouched back and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. That's tough."

"What do you know about it anyway?"

"About you and yours? Nothing." He drained his can of Coke and pushed it away. "But my mum got sick when I was little and after that it was just me and my dad."

Robert twirled his soda can between his hands, stealing a glimpse at Eames out of the corner of his eye. "What was that like?"

"Awful," he laughed. "He was a right prick, my dad. He'd come home drunk off his arse and chase me around the house with a belt."

"Sorry."

Eames waved it off dismissively. "The arsehole's been dead for ages. And I don't miss him a bit."

He didn't know what to say to that. What did you say to that, really? 'I'm glad you don't miss your dead asshole of a dad' wasn't exactly the most sensitive commentary. And saying 'sorry' again wasn't at all appropriate. He settled for not saying anything at all, just thinking. His dad wasn't like that. A little negligent in some areas, a little overbearing in others, but ultimately okay. Not great, but definitely not the worst dad in the world. Better than a lot of them, Robert was sure.

Not that that kept him from thinking his dad was a stupid jerk half the time anyway. But Robert loved him. Most of the time.

"My dad's not that bad," he said, eventually. "Just strict, mostly. And kind of..." He hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't know exactly what his dad was. More that he wasn't certain he wanted to make the confession that came with it. Oh, what the hell. Eames wasn't going to judge. "Kind of homophobic?"

"Ah, one of those." Eames tapped his nose smartly. "Yeah, so was mine. He caught me snogging my best mate once and decided to take my bedroom door off the hinges."

Robert laughed, unable to help it. "Sorry, it's not funny-"

"Oh, no, it's funny," Eames assured him. "Now, anyway. At the time, I wanted to strangle the bastard, but it's okay. You can laugh."

"So, what did you do?"

Eames shrugged. "Started snogging him in maths instead."

"I bet your teacher appreciated that."

"Yeah, well, more than my dad, anyway. 'sides, I was shit at maths. There's no art to it. Just a bunch of bloody numbers and once you get far enough along, they start throwing in letters and symbols I can't even name. Anyway," Eames said, grin fading into something more serious, "about your dad. You shouldn't let it get to you. There's always going to be people who don't think what you're doing's not okay. It's shit, but that's the world for you, eh? You can't life your life for other people. You do that, and I guarantee you'll end up disappointed."

Reply

Re: fill: now, baby, I believe (warning: underage, 15/?) anonymous March 30 2011, 17:44:39 UTC
That, Robert reflected, was possibly the longest string of words anyone had bothered saying to him in months. And it was advice. Advice that actually lined up with the way he saw things, instead of a rebuking based on some dubious appeal to authority. Clearly, he'd underestimated Eames. Understatement of the year. He'd have to quietly steep in his guilt over that later, though.

"Okay, so-"

"Who in the world are you?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Robert looked over slowly, doing his best to keep his expression as guilt-free as possible. "Um, hi, dad."

For his part, Maurice looked like he was about to pop a cluster of blood-vessels in his face, he was so purple with rage. That was never a good sign. Neither was the fact that he was using Infuriatingly Calm Voice #2, entirely different from #1, which involved the Look of Mild Disapproval.

"Robert, who is this man?"

"Our next door neighbor?" So that sounded confident. "His name is Eames." Like Madonna, dad. What the hell. "Uh, Eames, this is my dad, Maurice Fischer."

Maurice pointedly ignored Eames, who looked entirely unperturbed by the whole situation. Robert hoped he had the sense to keep his mouth shut, because the last thing he needed right now was for the two of them to get into it.

His dad looked between the two of them for a moment. "And what is Mr. Eames doing over here, Robert?"

"Um..." Oh, shit. Why hadn't he come up with a story, just in case something like this happened? Where was his pessimism now? How could he have been so optimistic to think that everything would just work out perfectly when almost nothing ever worked out for him? "He, I, uh, we-"

"Robert here just had a bit of a spill on the sidewalk," Eames interrupted, smoothly, "and I was outside working on my bike, so I just wanted to see him in safely. Your son's a very nice boy, Mr. Fischer. Very polite." He raised his Coke can. "Even offered me something to drink for my troubles."

He pushed away from the table and stood, looking rather menacing next to his dad despite the fact that, if Robert were capable of objectivity, he'd be forced to admit that Eames was at least three inches shorter. Robert swallowed. There would be blood. He just knew it. Oh, god. This could not end well.

"I'm terribly sorry to have intruded," Eames said, rather convincingly. He gave Robert a sympathetic smile and clapped Maurice on the shoulder. "All right, well, you're probably going to want to put some ice on that knee. Catch you later, Bobby. Nice to meet you, Maurice."

Robert didn't think he'd ever seen his dad at a loss for words, ever. But there he was, standing there like a bullet train had just sped through their kitchen. Metaphorically speaking, it wasn't entirely inappropriate. No one talked to his dad with that kind of informality. Not unless they had good reason to, which meant they either signed his paychecks or were considered holy deities in the world of finance. Robert looked warily at him, looking for some kind of clue about how to proceed without incurring his unholy wrath.

"Dad?"

Well, that snapped him out of it. "Yes."

"Um, I'm going to go upstairs, okay? Father Dominick wants me to read up on something before our next practice." Not true, but it sounded a lot better than saying that he felt like he was wading in a pool of awkwardness and tension and just really wanted to jerk off, so could he please go now. "Is that...okay?"

Maurice's gaze was not focused on him. "I see he left his jacket here."

Robert hadn't even noticed. But there it was, lying on the table right where Eames had left it.

"I can go take it to him later. I'm sure he doesn't need it right this minute."

"You weren't on his motorcycle, were you?" he asked, in the same tone that someone else might use to ask if you'd been involved in ritualistic animal slaughter.

Reply

Re: fill: now, baby, I believe (warning: underage, 16/?) anonymous March 30 2011, 17:47:21 UTC
"Me? Of course not. You know I'd never get on one of those things. I don't even know if it runs." Over the years, he'd gotten very good at feigning innocence. You kind of had to, if you were going to survive the Maurice Fischer treatment. He wasn't so sure it had worked this time, but after a moment his dad nodded.

"Horrible, noisy machines," his dad said with a faint grimace. "See that you don't. I don't want you hanging around that type."

"Okay, dad." Whatever you say. "How was work?"

"A mess, as usual. Every secretary they send me is completely incompetent. I don't know how they expect me to get anything done."

Robert toyed with his empty Coke can. "Yeah, me neither."

After a long stretch of silence, during which Robert quietly prayed for the earth to swallow him up and spare him his misery, Maurice cleared his throat. "I'll be in my office until dinner. I don't want to be disturbed, do you hear me?"

"Yes, dad."

Like that was anything new. Disturbing his dad while he was working was on par with kicking a sleeping tiger in the face. Not something he was stupid enough to do even under the most desperate of circumstances. Robert watched him go, waited until he was safely out of earshot, and then slumped down in his chair with a groan.

Crisis averted.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Aaaaand, we've made it through another section! Phew. I hope you're all still enjoying the fic! More when I can manage. It's time for class, ahaha.

Reply

Re: fill: now, baby, I believe (warning: underage, 16/?) fitz_y March 31 2011, 02:50:21 UTC
sigh. this was lovely. ah robert falling down after riding the motorcycle. he's so perfectly awkward, adorable, and snarky. <3

Reply

Re: fill: now, baby, I believe (warning: underage, 16/?) anonymous March 31 2011, 03:27:39 UTC
I never want this fic to end. I adore everything about it.

Reply

Re: fill: now, baby, I believe (warning: underage, 16/?) heartstencil March 31 2011, 05:20:04 UTC
Awww. Eames is, like, showing Robert the world.

Reply

AUTHOR'S NOTE #2, V.V. IMPORTANT anonymous April 8 2011, 16:09:34 UTC
It's occurred to me that some people might be tracking this thread not from the original post, but from the first part of the fill, which means that you won't have seen the most recent six parts or so, because I restarted my nesting.

If this is the case for you, the link to part 17 is here:

http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/15916.html?thread=39681580#t39681580

My apologies if I've confused anyone! ♥

Reply


Leave a comment

Up