Inception - I've Got a Rock n' Roll Life (9/16)
Title: I've Got a Rock n' Roll Life (9/16)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Word count: 5,483
Pairings/Characters: ArthurxEames, Mal, Robert Fischer, Nash, Yusuf, Cobb
Rating: PG-13(this part)
Warnings: language, smut, alcohol use, dub-con, Arthur being an asshole, leather pants, un-betaed
Summary: AU. Arthur is a concert violinist at a prestigious arts college. His best (and only) friend Ariadne convinces him to come with her to a rock concert, aka his worst nightmare. He does seem to be quite taken with the charismatic lead guitarist though... or rather, the guitarist seems to be quite taken by him.
Track Nine: All These Things That I've Done
After Eames left, Arthur lounged in the bed where they'd fucked a second time for a while, head heavy with his worries and fears. He wasn't sure who to go to or what to do about it. When they were fucking, Eames's fingers brushing against his jaw and cheekbones, he'd momentarily let the thoughts fade away again, but now that he was gone they were back in full force.
Arthur stared at the ceiling, and he was sure his face looked as horrified as he felt, and he wondered just what his future was supposed to bring now. He probably should have told Eames about all of it, but he just couldn't. He didn't want Eames to pass off his thoughts as nonsense and kiss away his fears only so that he could carry the burden instead of Arthur. He didn't want to hurt him that way.
Maybe, he thought, he should talk to Ariadne… No, she would tell him to stop worrying as well and then probably tell Eames.
No, Ariadne was definitely out. Mal however… Mal could probably give him some sound advice, what with her being married to Cobb and everything. Just the idea of talking to her about it gave him a little relief, enough to get him out of the bed, out of the hotel, and back to his apartment to change. Since he'd already bathed, he made it to school fairly early and caught a few of the orchestra students, including Robert Fischer, setting up for their own little jam session. They'd done it often in the past but Arthur had never participated, preferring to sit off in his own corner and practice his songs.
Today though, he set his violin down in his chair as Fischer started into a piano intro, eyebrows raised as he watched the keys with his too-clear eyes. Arthur couldn't help but realize just how talented a musician Fischer really was. He'd never really taken the time to pay that much attention other than the passive way he had in the attempt to stay in time. He also couldn't help but recognize the song as one of the songs on one of the few non-Classical albums he actually owned.
"We need a singer," Ally, a cellist, said as she pulled her bow across the strings.
"I'll do it," Arthur volunteered, and it caused everyone to pause and stare at him.
There was a moment of hesitation, and Robert said, setting his fingers back on the keys, "All right. See if you can follow along."
He played the intro again, and the group chuckled a little when Arthur crawled up onto the piano and crossed his legs, and he smiled a little out of a bit of nervousness. He shut his eyes, thought of Eames, and started to sing, bouncing his leg to the beat. "I… waited 'til I saw the sun… I don't know why I didn't come, I… left you by the house of fun… I don't know why I didn't come, I… don't know why I didn't come…"
He sank into the warmth of the song, warm like Eames's kisses and just a little tragic like them too. Even though it was a little sad, he couldn't help but tilt up one corner of his mouth at the thought of him. "When I saw the break of day… I wish that I could fly away… Instead of kneeling in the sand, catching teardrops in my hand..." He wondered what Eames would think if he knew he was doing this, actually trying to participate in things with his peers rather than separating himself, that he was actually singing in front of people who could judge and berate him. He couldn't help but think that Eames would be proud of him.
Slowly though, his thoughts drifted back to the ones of that morning, and the song surely took on a more melancholy feel than it had before. "My heart is drenched in wine… but you'll be on my mind… forever…"
There was a pang in Arthur's chest, most definitely.
"Out across the endless sea… I will die in ecstasy… but I'll be a bag of bones… drivin' down the road alone… My heart is drenched in wine… but you'll be on my mind forever…"
The little pang in his chest bloomed into a legitimate pain, one similar to the one he had felt that night when he had bared himself on his violin, and it took a new kind of strength to not burst into tears over all the worries rolling around in his head and sinking in his chest as Robert finished his solo. "Something has to make you run… I don't know why I didn't come, I… feel as empty as a drum… I don't know why I didn't come, I… don't know why I didn't come, I… don't know why I didn't come…"
The song drew to a close, and Arthur ventured to open his eyes to find that he was being stared at again. That seemed to be happening a lot lately, he thought.
"That was cool!" Ally piped up, still such a freshman. "I didn't know you had pipes, Artie!"
He didn't like being called Artie, but he decided not to correct her since she was complimenting him. "Th-thanks," he said. "I just really like that song…"
"Maybe you should sing in the S.O.S. concert," Fischer offered, a bit sardonically because truthfully he never could help himself. "With Jacobson getting on your case for no reason, I bet you the choir director would be completely willing to snatch you up."
"I'm not bothered by what Jacobson said yesterday," Arthur said with a shrug, hopping off of the piano. "Maybe he was just having a bad day or something. I'm not leaving the orchestra."
"We had no idea you were cool, Artie," Ally chuckled, smacking his ass as she passed him and all he could do was straighten his back out of surprise. "Let's do another one, okay? I bet you can tear up some Lady Gaga, yeah?"
"I don't even know who that is," Arthur replied.
"You lead a sheltered life," Robert replied, shaking his head in mock disgrace. "Do you even listen to anything other than classical music and the occasional Norah Jones?"
"I like Radical Notion," Arthur admitted before he could stop himself. It literally spilled out of his mouth before his brain had the opportunity to think it.
"Really?" Ally asked excitedly, hopping up on the piano where Arthur had previously sat, skinny jeans slipping down her hips a little as her legs kicked over the side. "I love them. I went to their concert when they were here, and it was just boss. Did you go?"
"Ah… yeah, Ariadne and I went. I'm kind of new to the band, but I do like their songs."
"Who's your favorite in the band?" she asked. "Fishy, who's your favorite?"
"Don't call me fishy, it's demeaning," Fischer spat, improvising a little tune on the keys as if he wasn't even trying (and maybe he wasn't). "I suppose it would have to be… oh, what's his name on the drums? He played piano on a Queen tribute album, and I was extremely impressed."
"I like Cobb. I think he is just so sexy," Ally said, grinning with all of her pretty white teeth. "His voice is the best voice on the radio right now."
"Eames is really good on the guitar," Arthur said, going inexplicably shy all of a sudden. "He's a bit theatrical though, for my tastes anyway."
"He can be as theatrical as he wants. He's gorgeous, and when he talks, that accent just sends me into shivers. My best friend from high school, Lori, Eames kissed her hand when he autographed her CD at their concert in my hometown two years ago, and she pretty much fainted on the spot. He's got a mouth like a porn star, I swear."
Arthur fought back the urge to blush, but there wasn't much he could do when she'd gone and mentioned the mouth that had been on his dick in the bedroom that morning. He actually felt his cock jump in his pants a little just at the memory, and he was grateful he'd gone to stand behind the piano where no one would notice.
"Looks aren't all that matter, you know," Robert said flatly. "You're so shallow, Ally."
"-says the man with the crystal eyes and perfect bone structure," Ally replied, nudging Arthur with her elbow.
"It's what you do with your life that matters," Robert continued, hunching over the keys, seemingly just a little embarrassed by the comments on his looks. "Looks are so meaningless. You should appreciate Cobb and Eames for their abilities, not for how fuckable they may or may not be."
"You're just being a stick in the mud because you haven't been laid in months," Ally said, laying down on the piano like a stereotypical lounge singer. "I can help you with that."
"I'm not interested," Fischer replied, making a sour face. Arthur couldn't help but think that he did sort of look like a fish when he made that face. "Grow up, and then maybe we'll talk."
Ally huffed, but she didn't seem too bothered; she never did. "Whatever. I had a feeling you played for the other team anyway."
"I do not," Robert grumbled, going into a Beethoven piece. "I don't play for any team right now. I'm focused on my studies-something you should be doing more of, if your playing is as bad as the rest of your grades are."
"I play just fine, thank you!" Ally spat, hopping off of the piano and going to her cello to show him just how finely she played. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to realize he was teasing her and also didn't get the chance to prove him wrong because Jacobson came in with some of the other students, waving his hands at them and telling them to sit down.
As Arthur went to take his seat, Robert whispered to him, "Clearly, Ally doesn't realize there are homosexuals on the planet. Her gay-dar is ridiculously faulty if she thinks smacking your ass and flirting with me are going to get her laid."
Arthur raised his eyebrows and swallowed thickly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I told you, it's only a rumor, remember?" He winked and smirked at him and went to sit in his seat.
He just wished Jacobson didn't have continuous complaints about Arthur's performance, but he tried to shrug it off.
He tried to.
He caught Mal in the hallway during his lunch break.
"Mal… can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, and he hated the way his voice caught in his throat in the middle.
"But of course you can," Mal said, smiling beatifically, with only a waver of concern in her eyes.
Arthur looked around and then mumbled, "Privately?"
"Yes, of course," she said, and she led him to her office in the accompanying building. After shutting the door, she took a seat at her desk while Arthur sat down in one of her plush chairs. Sunlight beamed in through the window, casting reflections of the windowpanes on the wine red rug on the floor, and Arthur was momentarily distracted by the painting of the Fragonard replica on the wall. "Arthur, what's wrong?"
"Ah… well…" he mumbled, folding his hands over themselves over and over again. "I… guess Cobb told you about… about me and Eames, right?"
"It's apparently serious between you two now," Mal replied, nodding. "He did tell me that. Why, are you arguing?"
"No, no… I… No, it's not that. Things are actually really great between us, but…"
"But what, mon cher?" she asked, leaning forward to put her hand on his knee.
"I…" Arthur hesitated and then just decided to come out with it. "I know it's not… permanent."
"What on earth do you mean by that?" Mal asked, smiling sympathetically.
Arthur sighed, shutting his eyes for a long moment so that he could relieve some of the pressure building there. "Well, after the concert, Eames is going to go away. He's going to go into the studio, and he's going to go out on tour, and he's going to make appearances at movie premieres and start acting in television shows and in between all that he's going to be writing new songs and practicing… He's going to be gone, Mal, and he's not going to have time to be in a stupid, secret romance with some college kid he met on a whim. After the concert, this is all going to be over… and I don't know what to do about that."
He bit down on his bottom lip, his heart wrenching in his chest to the point he was sure he couldn't breathe for a second.
"Oh, Arthur, that's not true. I mean, yes, you may not get to see him very often, but it's the time you have together that counts, and I'm sure he would make the time to come see you when he could. I don't get to see Dom very often at all because he's constantly on the road, but when he's with me, all of that time without him doesn't matter. I love him, Arthur, and if you and Eames love each other like you think you do, then you'll manage."
"…but Mal, it's not the same as you and Cobb… If you and Cobb got caught by the paparazzi, your private life would probably be ruined, but your whole life wouldn't get flushed down the toilet. If Eames and I were seen together even just having coffee together, rumor could get around that he's having a secret homosexual affair. He'd be on the cover of all the tabloid magazines and people would start to hate him, and then he wouldn't be able to play anymore, and I can't do that to him, Mal, because music is his passion and I know how that feels and I-"
He stopped himself when he realized he'd been getting progressively more frantic and had to take a deep breath because he could feel the prickle of tears on his lashes.
"Arthur," she said softly, rubbing his knee as he dropped his head into one hand.
"Why would he want to be with someone he can't even see, Mal? What kind of life is it when we can just manage to see each other for maybe one afternoon at random, have sex, and move on? That's not a relationship, Mal… That's…" Arthur ran his hand over his hair, sighing in defeat. "That's a glorified booty call."
Mal moved her hand from his knee to his face, eyebrows furrowing. "It is not that, Arthur, it isn't. I know exactly how you're feeling, but I can tell you that that's not how it is. Cobb and I met and started a relationship rather quickly, and we did have quite a few trials as his career started to take off. We had a lot of arguments over how life was going to be when he was spending his time in the spotlight. I didn't want to sacrifice my career for his. I didn't want to be followed by paparazzi. I didn't want to be known only as Dominic Cobb's girlfriend or wife. I wanted to be my own person, and for a while, I'm sure Dom was not happy about that. I'm sure he wanted to believe that us loving one another was enough and was all we needed, but I made him realize that I had my own passions and interests just like his music, and he changed his mind. I told him that I wouldn't ask him to give up his music for me, and he actually told me that he would if I asked him. That's how I knew how much he loved me."
"How-How do you know he wasn't just trying to get you to say that you'd stop your career on his behalf? How do you know he wasn't-"
"Arthur," she said, dropping her hand to his shoulder and squeezing it. "Not everyone is trying to manipulate you. Cobb would never ask me to do that because I told him that I wouldn't ask him to do it for me."
"…Oh…" Arthur said, swallowing. He hadn't realized he'd made the attempt to claim manipulation, but that was certainly what he'd been doing. He felt like such a jerk for trying to fuck up Mal's relationship, even if he hadn't done it consciously.
"Eames cares about you. I could tell by the way he looked when he talked about you, and I know that by how much you're worrying about this you care about him too. I'm aware that the two of you haven't been together nearly as long as Dom and I had, but if this is real, if this is serious and true, then the both of you will be willing to make sacrifices for one another. It may not always be happy or perfect, but it's the time spent together that matters-not the time spent apart."
Arthur allowed a little relief to settle into his shoulders, happy that Mal could at least understand what he was going through. He wasn't entirely sure if she was right about sacrifices and time spent together, but the idea that she might have been was enough to make him feel a little bit better.
"Thanks… Mal," he said, sighing. "I'm glad I can talk to you about all of this. I mean, maybe I've been overreacting just a little bit, but I've been a little stressed what with Jacobson on my case and-"
"What is he on your case about?" Mal asked, tilting her head to the side.
"I… I don't actually know. I mean, he keeps telling me that I'm playing sloppily and threatening to take me out of first chair, and I keep worrying he's going to take away my solo performance at S.O.S.," Arthur explained, a bit at a loss. "Robert Fischer said that my playing was fine… He… he said that he thought that Jacobson was treating me differently because of all the gay rumors going around about me. I tried to tell him that he was being ridiculous, but I don't… I don't know if maybe he's right or not."
"He's discriminating against you for being a homosexual?" Mal asked, fire escaping in her eyes, and she looked absolutely livid.
"Well, I don't know for sure," Arthur said quickly before she could go storming out to find him and give him a piece of her mind. "He never said anything like that… It's just that he's been treating me differently since these rumors started circulating, and unless my playing really is sloppy, I don't see any other reason why he would say such a thing. I haven't even told anyone whether these rumors are true or not though. It's kind of stupid to make an opinion off of someone over a rumor. I mean, they've spread rumors about me for years, and it never bothered him before."
He saw Mal's eyes fall to his lap where he'd instinctively wrapped one hand around his other wrist, and when he noticed all he could do was tighten his grip there defensively.
"Do you think I should ask him about it?" Arthur asked awkwardly. "I mean, I doubt he would tell me even if he was, but…"
"I will sit in on your next practice, and if I see suspicious activity, I will definitely talk to him myself," Mal told him. "I'm so sorry he's been treating you this way, Arthur. I had no idea."
"It's fine… I'm not all that concerned, but I don't want to lose everything I've worked for just because I like guys… and I mean, I don't even know if I can properly be considered a homosexual. I've never been with anyone before Eames at all. I'd never even been kissed. I've never been attracted to anyone else, or at least I hadn't allowed myself to be. I could be able to be attracted to girls too, couldn't I?"
"Whether you are or you aren't, whether you're a homosexual or not, that is absolutely none of his business, and he shouldn't treat you differently because of it. No one should."
"Well… not everyone feels that way… That's why Eames keeps me a secret," Arthur mumbled, making a move to stand. "Thanks, Mal. I think I'm going to be all right. I'll let you know if I need help with anything else."
"My office door is always open for you, mon cher," Mal said, standing and giving him a warm hug. "Don't be afraid to express your worries to Eames either, Arthur. Believe it or not, he may be feeling similar things that you are."
"I doubt that. Eames never worries about anything," Arthur said, smiling a little fondly in spite of himself.
"Everyone has worries, Arthur. Some are just better at hiding theirs than others."
Arthur left her office with the words still ringing in his ears.
Was that true?
Maybe Eames was freaking out just as much as he was…
No, that couldn't be.
"So, how long are you going to keep playing this game with that guy Arthur?" Nash asked after Eames climbed back into the van to head back to his hotel .The interview had gone splendidly, but Eames wasn't necessarily prepared for more questions.
"What the fuck are you talking about? It's not a game at all," Eames spat. "I'm serious about him, and he's serious about me. I thought I made that clear."
"How can you be serious about a guy you just met?" Nash asked around a cigarette, raising an eyebrow.
"Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight? Not much of romantic, are you, Nash."
"Teasing me is not necessary," Nash replied, lounging in his seat and blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "I know Cobb blathers on about true love when it comes to Mal-no offense, Cobb."
"What's offensive about true love?" Cobb asked, squinting at Nash, but when he didn't answer he busied himself with whatever he was doing on his phone.
Nash shrugged and looked back at Eames. "I'm not talking about that. Love is love, but serious relationships are different. Love's involved, yeah, but that's not all. What I'm asking you is, how can you expect to continue to have a serious relationship with this guy when you're leaving with the rest of us after the S.O.S. concert to probably see him infrequently if at all?"
"What? I-that's stupid. Of course we'll see each other."
"Yeah?" Nash asked, sucking on his cigarette before continuing with, "When?"
"Whenever I bloody feel like it," Eames growled, and he knew he was getting agitated far too quickly, but he couldn't stop himself. "In my off time, I can come see him, or I can have him come see me."
"Oh, yeah, and you just showing up in this town, or this guy constantly being flown in on Saito's private planes won't rouse any suspicion."
Eames was rendered momentarily speechless by this bit of information, even though he'd always sort of known it. Still, when Nash caught on, he did put on his smartass little grin that Eames hated so much. "I'm just saying," he said even though clearly he was trying to get under Eames's skin. He absolutely had to be. "I mean, I guess you could always just see him when you're in town like Cobb does with Mal. You know, that and maybe a Christmas and New Years-well, no not New Years because we're performing this year. You could call him I guess, but you'd have to make sure that the room or the phone wasn't bugged and that no one was spying on you while you had your little 'you-hang-up-first-no-you-hang-up-first' chats. Still, we all know that phone sex is not nearly as good as the real deal. I'd say you could bang floozies on the side, but if you're all serious like you say you are, you certainly can't do that."
Eames fought back the urge to snarl at him and possibly wring his greasy little neck. "I didn't say it would be easy, but-"
"I guess you could always ask him to come along as your little kept boy and keep him in your room as your precious little trophy, but your trailer is the first place the paparazzi will search and-"
"If you don't shut up right now, you'll be having your next month or so of meals through a drinking straw," Eames rumbled, clenching his fists on his knees.
"I was just saying," Nash said lightly, choosing the moment to break eye contact with Eames and look out the window, letting go of the fight before it really did get out of hand and give the paparazzi something to take pictures of. "You've got to admit that it's not really likely you'll be seeing much of him after this though. I just think it's a little cruel to make him fall for you and then leave him hanging over the edge of that cliff with no one to catch him. My last girlfriend screwed me over that way, and it sucks is all, and Arthur's actually an all right guy. For the life of me, I can't figure out why he likes you, but he does, and don't you think using the l-word will ultimately devastate him?"
Eames wanted to punch Nash's lights out, but he couldn't lift one finger to harm him because his words had cut through him like a fucking samurai sword.
The problem was that Nash had a pretty good point.
Nash had a good point and now Eames was feeling like a complete jackass for what he'd done. He'd gone and bared his soul and made the relationship into what it was when Arthur had actually had perfectly good reason for why he distanced himself from Eames and convinced himself that Eames had been lying to him. Arthur had been protecting himself the whole time, and now Eames had gone and convinced him to take the plunge off of the cliff when he had every intention of splitting town to pursue his other goals.
Fuck, why hadn't he realized that before?
It was because he'd been too self-focused, that was why. All he'd given a damn about was his own feelings, and even if he'd felt like they were beautiful and perfect and his admission of his feelings were for the both of them, it was only because he'd wanted Arthur all to himself. He'd wanted to be able to love Arthur and say that he loved him and hear him say it, and he'd wanted to be gentle and sweet with him and hold him while they slept and kiss him awake in the mornings and see those dimples appear on his cheeks when he did it.
He hadn't thought of their time coming to an end simply because he hadn't wanted to believe it ever would. He'd been having a far too glorious time, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass… and that would have been fine except for the fact that this time he wasn't going to be the only one getting hurt because of his stupidity.
This was a disaster.
What the fuck was he supposed to do? He didn't want to hurt Arthur, but at the moment he wasn't exactly able to come up with an option that wouldn't. He not only didn't like the idea of being apart from Arthur ever, didn't like the idea of devastating him by making him wait around for someone he might never see… He also couldn't stand the idea of breaking up with Arthur. Why couldn't they just have had a rampant couple of weeks of hot sex and leave each other in the past without worry or complaint? Why did he have to go and fall in love with the little twat?
He sat in silence for the entirety of the drive back to the hotel and for a couple of hours still laid in his room thinking about it until there was a knock.
Horrified, he expected it to be Arthur and already had no idea what to say, but instead it was Yusuf.
"Oh, it's you," he said with more than a little relief. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the van with you earlier, you know," Yusuf said flatly. "I know the fans tend to forget I exist, but if you do then I'll certainly start to believe I might just be invisible. I had a feeling you'd be pretty upset over your little 'discussion' with Nash earlier."
Normally Eames would have come up with some kind of snarky comment to tease Yusuf with, but he just didn't have the energy for it. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Yusuf," he said tiredly, stepping aside to let him into the room. "I'd hate to lose him, but I'd hate even more to hurt him. He's a lot more fragile then he lets people believe, and I don't want to destroy him. I do really and truly love the boy."
"Well, I've been trying to think up a solution to your dilemma," Yusuf said, smiling. "I had a feeling that since I'm not emotionally involved with the idea, I could think more clearly on it than you can."
"Even as a musician, you're always the scientist, aren't you, Yusuf?" Eames sighed.
"Music is a science. It's a science and an art which is exactly why everyone likes music," Yusuf replied simply, nodding. "Anyway, I think I've come up with something. Now, I have to tell you right now that there is no way you and he aren't going to be hurt, but surely the most painless method would be preferred. A person would rather have a sprained ankle than to have their foot chopped off."
"Ah… yes, I suppose so, unless they were out for insurance money," Eames said. Yusuf always had the weirdest way of explaining things. "Go on."
"You've got to get him to dump you," Yusuf said humbly, as if it was that simple.
"What? No-I… I don't want him to-"
"If you don't want to completely devastate him by leaving him hanging or by breaking up with him, you're going to have to get him to break up with you. His sadness will be replaced by anger, and he'll probably have revenge sex with someone else. As Arthur as clearly demonstrated, he gets quite attached to the people he has angry sex with."
"You're a right bastard, Yusuf."
"It's either that, or the only other thing I could think of."
"…and what is that? Should I ask?"
"I'd probably be put on the guillotine if Nash, Cobb, or any of our fans heard me say this, but if you want to be with Arthur, you'd probably have to quit the band."
The air between them was silent and tense for a long minute, and Eames could tell by the uncomfortable look on Yusuf's face that he was afraid Eames was actually considering it.
Truth be told, he was.
"You think if I quit the paparazzi would just leave me alone?" Eames said skeptically. "They'd be on me like white on rice."
"Yeah, but that limelight would eventually fade. People would stop caring," Yusuf said with a shrug. "If you quit, I'm claiming that I knew absolutely nothing about this. I knew I shouldn't have said it."
"I… I can't just quit. I love Arthur, really I do, and I'd do anything for him, but… I have a responsibility in this group now. It's not just about what I love to do. It's about you guys too, and I damn sure owe Cobb that much for pulling me off the streets in the first place. I… I can't make this decision right now. I have to think about it."
"Well, you could always just come out of the closet. Then it wouldn't be weird to see you with another man."
Eames stared at Yusuf in shock. "You think I could just do that? It's risky."
"I thought you liked to live precariously, Eames. That's what being a rock star is all about."
Eames ran a hand through his hair, staring at the wall behind Yusuf rather than directly at him. "I have a feeling I'm going to be up doing a lot of thinking this evening," he mumbled.
"Would you like for me to fetch us some coffee?"
Thanks to everyone for their kind words at the loss of my puppy. <3 Writing and reading distract me from feeling sad, so here's a fresh new chapter for you chocked full of feelings.
Author: osaki_nana_707
Word count: 5,483
Pairings/Characters: ArthurxEames, Mal, Robert Fischer, Nash, Yusuf, Cobb
Rating: PG-13(this part)
Warnings: language, smut, alcohol use, dub-con, Arthur being an asshole, leather pants, un-betaed
Summary: AU. Arthur is a concert violinist at a prestigious arts college. His best (and only) friend Ariadne convinces him to come with her to a rock concert, aka his worst nightmare. He does seem to be quite taken with the charismatic lead guitarist though... or rather, the guitarist seems to be quite taken by him.
Track Nine: All These Things That I've Done
After Eames left, Arthur lounged in the bed where they'd fucked a second time for a while, head heavy with his worries and fears. He wasn't sure who to go to or what to do about it. When they were fucking, Eames's fingers brushing against his jaw and cheekbones, he'd momentarily let the thoughts fade away again, but now that he was gone they were back in full force.
Arthur stared at the ceiling, and he was sure his face looked as horrified as he felt, and he wondered just what his future was supposed to bring now. He probably should have told Eames about all of it, but he just couldn't. He didn't want Eames to pass off his thoughts as nonsense and kiss away his fears only so that he could carry the burden instead of Arthur. He didn't want to hurt him that way.
Maybe, he thought, he should talk to Ariadne… No, she would tell him to stop worrying as well and then probably tell Eames.
No, Ariadne was definitely out. Mal however… Mal could probably give him some sound advice, what with her being married to Cobb and everything. Just the idea of talking to her about it gave him a little relief, enough to get him out of the bed, out of the hotel, and back to his apartment to change. Since he'd already bathed, he made it to school fairly early and caught a few of the orchestra students, including Robert Fischer, setting up for their own little jam session. They'd done it often in the past but Arthur had never participated, preferring to sit off in his own corner and practice his songs.
Today though, he set his violin down in his chair as Fischer started into a piano intro, eyebrows raised as he watched the keys with his too-clear eyes. Arthur couldn't help but realize just how talented a musician Fischer really was. He'd never really taken the time to pay that much attention other than the passive way he had in the attempt to stay in time. He also couldn't help but recognize the song as one of the songs on one of the few non-Classical albums he actually owned.
"We need a singer," Ally, a cellist, said as she pulled her bow across the strings.
"I'll do it," Arthur volunteered, and it caused everyone to pause and stare at him.
There was a moment of hesitation, and Robert said, setting his fingers back on the keys, "All right. See if you can follow along."
He played the intro again, and the group chuckled a little when Arthur crawled up onto the piano and crossed his legs, and he smiled a little out of a bit of nervousness. He shut his eyes, thought of Eames, and started to sing, bouncing his leg to the beat. "I… waited 'til I saw the sun… I don't know why I didn't come, I… left you by the house of fun… I don't know why I didn't come, I… don't know why I didn't come…"
He sank into the warmth of the song, warm like Eames's kisses and just a little tragic like them too. Even though it was a little sad, he couldn't help but tilt up one corner of his mouth at the thought of him. "When I saw the break of day… I wish that I could fly away… Instead of kneeling in the sand, catching teardrops in my hand..." He wondered what Eames would think if he knew he was doing this, actually trying to participate in things with his peers rather than separating himself, that he was actually singing in front of people who could judge and berate him. He couldn't help but think that Eames would be proud of him.
Slowly though, his thoughts drifted back to the ones of that morning, and the song surely took on a more melancholy feel than it had before. "My heart is drenched in wine… but you'll be on my mind… forever…"
There was a pang in Arthur's chest, most definitely.
"Out across the endless sea… I will die in ecstasy… but I'll be a bag of bones… drivin' down the road alone… My heart is drenched in wine… but you'll be on my mind forever…"
The little pang in his chest bloomed into a legitimate pain, one similar to the one he had felt that night when he had bared himself on his violin, and it took a new kind of strength to not burst into tears over all the worries rolling around in his head and sinking in his chest as Robert finished his solo. "Something has to make you run… I don't know why I didn't come, I… feel as empty as a drum… I don't know why I didn't come, I… don't know why I didn't come, I… don't know why I didn't come…"
The song drew to a close, and Arthur ventured to open his eyes to find that he was being stared at again. That seemed to be happening a lot lately, he thought.
"That was cool!" Ally piped up, still such a freshman. "I didn't know you had pipes, Artie!"
He didn't like being called Artie, but he decided not to correct her since she was complimenting him. "Th-thanks," he said. "I just really like that song…"
"Maybe you should sing in the S.O.S. concert," Fischer offered, a bit sardonically because truthfully he never could help himself. "With Jacobson getting on your case for no reason, I bet you the choir director would be completely willing to snatch you up."
"I'm not bothered by what Jacobson said yesterday," Arthur said with a shrug, hopping off of the piano. "Maybe he was just having a bad day or something. I'm not leaving the orchestra."
"We had no idea you were cool, Artie," Ally chuckled, smacking his ass as she passed him and all he could do was straighten his back out of surprise. "Let's do another one, okay? I bet you can tear up some Lady Gaga, yeah?"
"I don't even know who that is," Arthur replied.
"You lead a sheltered life," Robert replied, shaking his head in mock disgrace. "Do you even listen to anything other than classical music and the occasional Norah Jones?"
"I like Radical Notion," Arthur admitted before he could stop himself. It literally spilled out of his mouth before his brain had the opportunity to think it.
"Really?" Ally asked excitedly, hopping up on the piano where Arthur had previously sat, skinny jeans slipping down her hips a little as her legs kicked over the side. "I love them. I went to their concert when they were here, and it was just boss. Did you go?"
"Ah… yeah, Ariadne and I went. I'm kind of new to the band, but I do like their songs."
"Who's your favorite in the band?" she asked. "Fishy, who's your favorite?"
"Don't call me fishy, it's demeaning," Fischer spat, improvising a little tune on the keys as if he wasn't even trying (and maybe he wasn't). "I suppose it would have to be… oh, what's his name on the drums? He played piano on a Queen tribute album, and I was extremely impressed."
"I like Cobb. I think he is just so sexy," Ally said, grinning with all of her pretty white teeth. "His voice is the best voice on the radio right now."
"Eames is really good on the guitar," Arthur said, going inexplicably shy all of a sudden. "He's a bit theatrical though, for my tastes anyway."
"He can be as theatrical as he wants. He's gorgeous, and when he talks, that accent just sends me into shivers. My best friend from high school, Lori, Eames kissed her hand when he autographed her CD at their concert in my hometown two years ago, and she pretty much fainted on the spot. He's got a mouth like a porn star, I swear."
Arthur fought back the urge to blush, but there wasn't much he could do when she'd gone and mentioned the mouth that had been on his dick in the bedroom that morning. He actually felt his cock jump in his pants a little just at the memory, and he was grateful he'd gone to stand behind the piano where no one would notice.
"Looks aren't all that matter, you know," Robert said flatly. "You're so shallow, Ally."
"-says the man with the crystal eyes and perfect bone structure," Ally replied, nudging Arthur with her elbow.
"It's what you do with your life that matters," Robert continued, hunching over the keys, seemingly just a little embarrassed by the comments on his looks. "Looks are so meaningless. You should appreciate Cobb and Eames for their abilities, not for how fuckable they may or may not be."
"You're just being a stick in the mud because you haven't been laid in months," Ally said, laying down on the piano like a stereotypical lounge singer. "I can help you with that."
"I'm not interested," Fischer replied, making a sour face. Arthur couldn't help but think that he did sort of look like a fish when he made that face. "Grow up, and then maybe we'll talk."
Ally huffed, but she didn't seem too bothered; she never did. "Whatever. I had a feeling you played for the other team anyway."
"I do not," Robert grumbled, going into a Beethoven piece. "I don't play for any team right now. I'm focused on my studies-something you should be doing more of, if your playing is as bad as the rest of your grades are."
"I play just fine, thank you!" Ally spat, hopping off of the piano and going to her cello to show him just how finely she played. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to realize he was teasing her and also didn't get the chance to prove him wrong because Jacobson came in with some of the other students, waving his hands at them and telling them to sit down.
As Arthur went to take his seat, Robert whispered to him, "Clearly, Ally doesn't realize there are homosexuals on the planet. Her gay-dar is ridiculously faulty if she thinks smacking your ass and flirting with me are going to get her laid."
Arthur raised his eyebrows and swallowed thickly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I told you, it's only a rumor, remember?" He winked and smirked at him and went to sit in his seat.
He just wished Jacobson didn't have continuous complaints about Arthur's performance, but he tried to shrug it off.
He tried to.
He caught Mal in the hallway during his lunch break.
"Mal… can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, and he hated the way his voice caught in his throat in the middle.
"But of course you can," Mal said, smiling beatifically, with only a waver of concern in her eyes.
Arthur looked around and then mumbled, "Privately?"
"Yes, of course," she said, and she led him to her office in the accompanying building. After shutting the door, she took a seat at her desk while Arthur sat down in one of her plush chairs. Sunlight beamed in through the window, casting reflections of the windowpanes on the wine red rug on the floor, and Arthur was momentarily distracted by the painting of the Fragonard replica on the wall. "Arthur, what's wrong?"
"Ah… well…" he mumbled, folding his hands over themselves over and over again. "I… guess Cobb told you about… about me and Eames, right?"
"It's apparently serious between you two now," Mal replied, nodding. "He did tell me that. Why, are you arguing?"
"No, no… I… No, it's not that. Things are actually really great between us, but…"
"But what, mon cher?" she asked, leaning forward to put her hand on his knee.
"I…" Arthur hesitated and then just decided to come out with it. "I know it's not… permanent."
"What on earth do you mean by that?" Mal asked, smiling sympathetically.
Arthur sighed, shutting his eyes for a long moment so that he could relieve some of the pressure building there. "Well, after the concert, Eames is going to go away. He's going to go into the studio, and he's going to go out on tour, and he's going to make appearances at movie premieres and start acting in television shows and in between all that he's going to be writing new songs and practicing… He's going to be gone, Mal, and he's not going to have time to be in a stupid, secret romance with some college kid he met on a whim. After the concert, this is all going to be over… and I don't know what to do about that."
He bit down on his bottom lip, his heart wrenching in his chest to the point he was sure he couldn't breathe for a second.
"Oh, Arthur, that's not true. I mean, yes, you may not get to see him very often, but it's the time you have together that counts, and I'm sure he would make the time to come see you when he could. I don't get to see Dom very often at all because he's constantly on the road, but when he's with me, all of that time without him doesn't matter. I love him, Arthur, and if you and Eames love each other like you think you do, then you'll manage."
"…but Mal, it's not the same as you and Cobb… If you and Cobb got caught by the paparazzi, your private life would probably be ruined, but your whole life wouldn't get flushed down the toilet. If Eames and I were seen together even just having coffee together, rumor could get around that he's having a secret homosexual affair. He'd be on the cover of all the tabloid magazines and people would start to hate him, and then he wouldn't be able to play anymore, and I can't do that to him, Mal, because music is his passion and I know how that feels and I-"
He stopped himself when he realized he'd been getting progressively more frantic and had to take a deep breath because he could feel the prickle of tears on his lashes.
"Arthur," she said softly, rubbing his knee as he dropped his head into one hand.
"Why would he want to be with someone he can't even see, Mal? What kind of life is it when we can just manage to see each other for maybe one afternoon at random, have sex, and move on? That's not a relationship, Mal… That's…" Arthur ran his hand over his hair, sighing in defeat. "That's a glorified booty call."
Mal moved her hand from his knee to his face, eyebrows furrowing. "It is not that, Arthur, it isn't. I know exactly how you're feeling, but I can tell you that that's not how it is. Cobb and I met and started a relationship rather quickly, and we did have quite a few trials as his career started to take off. We had a lot of arguments over how life was going to be when he was spending his time in the spotlight. I didn't want to sacrifice my career for his. I didn't want to be followed by paparazzi. I didn't want to be known only as Dominic Cobb's girlfriend or wife. I wanted to be my own person, and for a while, I'm sure Dom was not happy about that. I'm sure he wanted to believe that us loving one another was enough and was all we needed, but I made him realize that I had my own passions and interests just like his music, and he changed his mind. I told him that I wouldn't ask him to give up his music for me, and he actually told me that he would if I asked him. That's how I knew how much he loved me."
"How-How do you know he wasn't just trying to get you to say that you'd stop your career on his behalf? How do you know he wasn't-"
"Arthur," she said, dropping her hand to his shoulder and squeezing it. "Not everyone is trying to manipulate you. Cobb would never ask me to do that because I told him that I wouldn't ask him to do it for me."
"…Oh…" Arthur said, swallowing. He hadn't realized he'd made the attempt to claim manipulation, but that was certainly what he'd been doing. He felt like such a jerk for trying to fuck up Mal's relationship, even if he hadn't done it consciously.
"Eames cares about you. I could tell by the way he looked when he talked about you, and I know that by how much you're worrying about this you care about him too. I'm aware that the two of you haven't been together nearly as long as Dom and I had, but if this is real, if this is serious and true, then the both of you will be willing to make sacrifices for one another. It may not always be happy or perfect, but it's the time spent together that matters-not the time spent apart."
Arthur allowed a little relief to settle into his shoulders, happy that Mal could at least understand what he was going through. He wasn't entirely sure if she was right about sacrifices and time spent together, but the idea that she might have been was enough to make him feel a little bit better.
"Thanks… Mal," he said, sighing. "I'm glad I can talk to you about all of this. I mean, maybe I've been overreacting just a little bit, but I've been a little stressed what with Jacobson on my case and-"
"What is he on your case about?" Mal asked, tilting her head to the side.
"I… I don't actually know. I mean, he keeps telling me that I'm playing sloppily and threatening to take me out of first chair, and I keep worrying he's going to take away my solo performance at S.O.S.," Arthur explained, a bit at a loss. "Robert Fischer said that my playing was fine… He… he said that he thought that Jacobson was treating me differently because of all the gay rumors going around about me. I tried to tell him that he was being ridiculous, but I don't… I don't know if maybe he's right or not."
"He's discriminating against you for being a homosexual?" Mal asked, fire escaping in her eyes, and she looked absolutely livid.
"Well, I don't know for sure," Arthur said quickly before she could go storming out to find him and give him a piece of her mind. "He never said anything like that… It's just that he's been treating me differently since these rumors started circulating, and unless my playing really is sloppy, I don't see any other reason why he would say such a thing. I haven't even told anyone whether these rumors are true or not though. It's kind of stupid to make an opinion off of someone over a rumor. I mean, they've spread rumors about me for years, and it never bothered him before."
He saw Mal's eyes fall to his lap where he'd instinctively wrapped one hand around his other wrist, and when he noticed all he could do was tighten his grip there defensively.
"Do you think I should ask him about it?" Arthur asked awkwardly. "I mean, I doubt he would tell me even if he was, but…"
"I will sit in on your next practice, and if I see suspicious activity, I will definitely talk to him myself," Mal told him. "I'm so sorry he's been treating you this way, Arthur. I had no idea."
"It's fine… I'm not all that concerned, but I don't want to lose everything I've worked for just because I like guys… and I mean, I don't even know if I can properly be considered a homosexual. I've never been with anyone before Eames at all. I'd never even been kissed. I've never been attracted to anyone else, or at least I hadn't allowed myself to be. I could be able to be attracted to girls too, couldn't I?"
"Whether you are or you aren't, whether you're a homosexual or not, that is absolutely none of his business, and he shouldn't treat you differently because of it. No one should."
"Well… not everyone feels that way… That's why Eames keeps me a secret," Arthur mumbled, making a move to stand. "Thanks, Mal. I think I'm going to be all right. I'll let you know if I need help with anything else."
"My office door is always open for you, mon cher," Mal said, standing and giving him a warm hug. "Don't be afraid to express your worries to Eames either, Arthur. Believe it or not, he may be feeling similar things that you are."
"I doubt that. Eames never worries about anything," Arthur said, smiling a little fondly in spite of himself.
"Everyone has worries, Arthur. Some are just better at hiding theirs than others."
Arthur left her office with the words still ringing in his ears.
Was that true?
Maybe Eames was freaking out just as much as he was…
No, that couldn't be.
"So, how long are you going to keep playing this game with that guy Arthur?" Nash asked after Eames climbed back into the van to head back to his hotel .The interview had gone splendidly, but Eames wasn't necessarily prepared for more questions.
"What the fuck are you talking about? It's not a game at all," Eames spat. "I'm serious about him, and he's serious about me. I thought I made that clear."
"How can you be serious about a guy you just met?" Nash asked around a cigarette, raising an eyebrow.
"Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight? Not much of romantic, are you, Nash."
"Teasing me is not necessary," Nash replied, lounging in his seat and blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "I know Cobb blathers on about true love when it comes to Mal-no offense, Cobb."
"What's offensive about true love?" Cobb asked, squinting at Nash, but when he didn't answer he busied himself with whatever he was doing on his phone.
Nash shrugged and looked back at Eames. "I'm not talking about that. Love is love, but serious relationships are different. Love's involved, yeah, but that's not all. What I'm asking you is, how can you expect to continue to have a serious relationship with this guy when you're leaving with the rest of us after the S.O.S. concert to probably see him infrequently if at all?"
"What? I-that's stupid. Of course we'll see each other."
"Yeah?" Nash asked, sucking on his cigarette before continuing with, "When?"
"Whenever I bloody feel like it," Eames growled, and he knew he was getting agitated far too quickly, but he couldn't stop himself. "In my off time, I can come see him, or I can have him come see me."
"Oh, yeah, and you just showing up in this town, or this guy constantly being flown in on Saito's private planes won't rouse any suspicion."
Eames was rendered momentarily speechless by this bit of information, even though he'd always sort of known it. Still, when Nash caught on, he did put on his smartass little grin that Eames hated so much. "I'm just saying," he said even though clearly he was trying to get under Eames's skin. He absolutely had to be. "I mean, I guess you could always just see him when you're in town like Cobb does with Mal. You know, that and maybe a Christmas and New Years-well, no not New Years because we're performing this year. You could call him I guess, but you'd have to make sure that the room or the phone wasn't bugged and that no one was spying on you while you had your little 'you-hang-up-first-no-you-hang-up-first' chats. Still, we all know that phone sex is not nearly as good as the real deal. I'd say you could bang floozies on the side, but if you're all serious like you say you are, you certainly can't do that."
Eames fought back the urge to snarl at him and possibly wring his greasy little neck. "I didn't say it would be easy, but-"
"I guess you could always ask him to come along as your little kept boy and keep him in your room as your precious little trophy, but your trailer is the first place the paparazzi will search and-"
"If you don't shut up right now, you'll be having your next month or so of meals through a drinking straw," Eames rumbled, clenching his fists on his knees.
"I was just saying," Nash said lightly, choosing the moment to break eye contact with Eames and look out the window, letting go of the fight before it really did get out of hand and give the paparazzi something to take pictures of. "You've got to admit that it's not really likely you'll be seeing much of him after this though. I just think it's a little cruel to make him fall for you and then leave him hanging over the edge of that cliff with no one to catch him. My last girlfriend screwed me over that way, and it sucks is all, and Arthur's actually an all right guy. For the life of me, I can't figure out why he likes you, but he does, and don't you think using the l-word will ultimately devastate him?"
Eames wanted to punch Nash's lights out, but he couldn't lift one finger to harm him because his words had cut through him like a fucking samurai sword.
The problem was that Nash had a pretty good point.
Nash had a good point and now Eames was feeling like a complete jackass for what he'd done. He'd gone and bared his soul and made the relationship into what it was when Arthur had actually had perfectly good reason for why he distanced himself from Eames and convinced himself that Eames had been lying to him. Arthur had been protecting himself the whole time, and now Eames had gone and convinced him to take the plunge off of the cliff when he had every intention of splitting town to pursue his other goals.
Fuck, why hadn't he realized that before?
It was because he'd been too self-focused, that was why. All he'd given a damn about was his own feelings, and even if he'd felt like they were beautiful and perfect and his admission of his feelings were for the both of them, it was only because he'd wanted Arthur all to himself. He'd wanted to be able to love Arthur and say that he loved him and hear him say it, and he'd wanted to be gentle and sweet with him and hold him while they slept and kiss him awake in the mornings and see those dimples appear on his cheeks when he did it.
He hadn't thought of their time coming to an end simply because he hadn't wanted to believe it ever would. He'd been having a far too glorious time, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass… and that would have been fine except for the fact that this time he wasn't going to be the only one getting hurt because of his stupidity.
This was a disaster.
What the fuck was he supposed to do? He didn't want to hurt Arthur, but at the moment he wasn't exactly able to come up with an option that wouldn't. He not only didn't like the idea of being apart from Arthur ever, didn't like the idea of devastating him by making him wait around for someone he might never see… He also couldn't stand the idea of breaking up with Arthur. Why couldn't they just have had a rampant couple of weeks of hot sex and leave each other in the past without worry or complaint? Why did he have to go and fall in love with the little twat?
He sat in silence for the entirety of the drive back to the hotel and for a couple of hours still laid in his room thinking about it until there was a knock.
Horrified, he expected it to be Arthur and already had no idea what to say, but instead it was Yusuf.
"Oh, it's you," he said with more than a little relief. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the van with you earlier, you know," Yusuf said flatly. "I know the fans tend to forget I exist, but if you do then I'll certainly start to believe I might just be invisible. I had a feeling you'd be pretty upset over your little 'discussion' with Nash earlier."
Normally Eames would have come up with some kind of snarky comment to tease Yusuf with, but he just didn't have the energy for it. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Yusuf," he said tiredly, stepping aside to let him into the room. "I'd hate to lose him, but I'd hate even more to hurt him. He's a lot more fragile then he lets people believe, and I don't want to destroy him. I do really and truly love the boy."
"Well, I've been trying to think up a solution to your dilemma," Yusuf said, smiling. "I had a feeling that since I'm not emotionally involved with the idea, I could think more clearly on it than you can."
"Even as a musician, you're always the scientist, aren't you, Yusuf?" Eames sighed.
"Music is a science. It's a science and an art which is exactly why everyone likes music," Yusuf replied simply, nodding. "Anyway, I think I've come up with something. Now, I have to tell you right now that there is no way you and he aren't going to be hurt, but surely the most painless method would be preferred. A person would rather have a sprained ankle than to have their foot chopped off."
"Ah… yes, I suppose so, unless they were out for insurance money," Eames said. Yusuf always had the weirdest way of explaining things. "Go on."
"You've got to get him to dump you," Yusuf said humbly, as if it was that simple.
"What? No-I… I don't want him to-"
"If you don't want to completely devastate him by leaving him hanging or by breaking up with him, you're going to have to get him to break up with you. His sadness will be replaced by anger, and he'll probably have revenge sex with someone else. As Arthur as clearly demonstrated, he gets quite attached to the people he has angry sex with."
"You're a right bastard, Yusuf."
"It's either that, or the only other thing I could think of."
"…and what is that? Should I ask?"
"I'd probably be put on the guillotine if Nash, Cobb, or any of our fans heard me say this, but if you want to be with Arthur, you'd probably have to quit the band."
The air between them was silent and tense for a long minute, and Eames could tell by the uncomfortable look on Yusuf's face that he was afraid Eames was actually considering it.
Truth be told, he was.
"You think if I quit the paparazzi would just leave me alone?" Eames said skeptically. "They'd be on me like white on rice."
"Yeah, but that limelight would eventually fade. People would stop caring," Yusuf said with a shrug. "If you quit, I'm claiming that I knew absolutely nothing about this. I knew I shouldn't have said it."
"I… I can't just quit. I love Arthur, really I do, and I'd do anything for him, but… I have a responsibility in this group now. It's not just about what I love to do. It's about you guys too, and I damn sure owe Cobb that much for pulling me off the streets in the first place. I… I can't make this decision right now. I have to think about it."
"Well, you could always just come out of the closet. Then it wouldn't be weird to see you with another man."
Eames stared at Yusuf in shock. "You think I could just do that? It's risky."
"I thought you liked to live precariously, Eames. That's what being a rock star is all about."
Eames ran a hand through his hair, staring at the wall behind Yusuf rather than directly at him. "I have a feeling I'm going to be up doing a lot of thinking this evening," he mumbled.
"Would you like for me to fetch us some coffee?"
Thanks to everyone for their kind words at the loss of my puppy. <3 Writing and reading distract me from feeling sad, so here's a fresh new chapter for you chocked full of feelings.