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So, because of my confirmed lurker habits and the renaissance of writing that has happened to my life post-Inception, I missed most memes to have ever hit any fandom ever. I mean, I saw them happen but I never got to try one. So, though this is shamelessly (or, actually, full of shame because I do feel a bit silly for doing this without even a passing acquaintance with the author in question) stolen from
tequilideas, I am trying my hand at meme-ing.
The name of the game (you know the drill):
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
1. The Band - The Weight
Arthur pulled into one of the many identical service areas he'd past--they'd been whizzing by in the corner of his eye--and felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He'd been driving for ten hours straight with only one break to sit morosely at a truck stop and eat food dripping with grease.
When he stepped out of the car, the pavement seemed to still be moving.
Eames was sitting on the curb further down. He held a hand up to shade his eyes to look at Arthur, barely lifiting his head.
Arthur stretched, dawdled, and then moved languorously toward Eames. He didn't like to be sudden or desperate. He didn't like to look like he was aiming at him, at that patch of the curb, towards that piece of tarmac.
"You have no idea how long I've been on the road," Arthur said when he finally reached Eames. He sat next to him and let his knee bump Eames's.
"Ten hours," Eames said, returning his gaze to the highway, seperated from them by an artificial looking strip of trees and grass.
Arthur didn't respond.
2. Rufus Wainwright - Greek Song
Eames looked up at the board of the departing flights. Arthur was already on the line, his destination pre-determined. He probably had it planned months ago. He probably had a timeline worked out, stretching months into the future.
Eames never did. He could go in any direction. He'd had a couple of offers, a couple of jobs waiting for the perfect forger. He'd had more fun offers too--friends, (former) lovers, strangers he wanted to meet, and everything in between.
Arthur was in gray again. No pinstripe today, just the sleek and clear gray suit. His back was to Eames and, even then, Eames felt like he watching his face.
Arthur was at the front of the line and Eames still hadn't made up his mind. East, west, it didn't seem to register.
Then Arthur was at his side again, waving two tickets and making a shy smile.
3. The Temptations - Cloud Nine
Arthur preferred not to have anyone know about his family. It never was what anyone expected of him, not with the sharp lines of his suits and the strict regiment of his life.
It made more sense than people thought, though. They were a large and sprawling family, living hand-to-mouth when they managed even that. He had so many siblings, he didn't even know the younger ones with the kind of intimacy he knew some of his co-workers. His youngest sister was almost a complete stranger.
He cleaned when he visited. He cleaned and organized and catalogued and cooked and repaired. And the he left again.
When he left, the first touch of his skin to his suit, retreieved from his closet, felt like gold. It felt like perfection shimmering against his skin.
And Eames would be waiting to pull it back off.
4. Alphabeat - Rubberboots/Makintosh
"I won't wear those," Arthur said, wrinkling his nose.
Eames rolled his eyes. "This is England, pet. You'll have to make adjustments."
"I have been in England before and--"
"Not in the countryside. You've been in London."
"--I've never had to wear those before." Arthur dripped distaste into his words in heavy doses.
Eames waggled the wellies under his nose again. "It's this or wreck your nice leather loafers."
Arthur gave Eames a look that said, in plainest text, You have made another stupid faux-pas about my clothes and said, "I don't wear loafers, Eames. And I don't see any reason to go out until it stops raining."
Eames could have spent the time explaining that they would be waiting till doomsday for that to happen. He could have told Arthur about the marvel he had felt as a child on the rare sunny day. He could have described the way his family had gone to church in their best clothes and huge, ugly wellies on Sundays (which would have insulted Arthur even more).
Arthur had a bit of a point, though. Not about the weather, because they would be out in it at some point or they would go mad.
But Eames could agree that there wasn't much point in being outside of their bedroom on this particular rainy day.
5. Paolo Nutini - Rewind
Arthur had been minding Cobb for too long, Eames thought. Cobb could explain his moodiness, the way he would drift off from the world around him and fade in front of your eyes.
Arthur seemed to be moving in the opposite direction. When Cobb retreated, Arthur would pull forward, into the vaccuum Cobb left. He'd stare at Dom's face, emotions flitting across his face--concern then despair then, for a brief moment, hope and then back to despair--and he'd be just as lost.
Eames had trouble watching. Then he had trouble not watching, trouble with just being in the room, trouble with breathing the same air. It was like Arthur and Cobb, between them, sucked the life out of the air and pumped it back filled with regret.
Eames drained a shot of whiskey, sitting alone at a bar. He set the glass carefully down on the coaster. He'd had too many, probably, but that was alright. Arthur wasn't there to nag.
That had been a better time, when he'd nagged and nagged.
Eames would have to leave.
So he did.
6. Nancy Sinatra - How does that grab you, Darlin'?
Arthur was ramrod straight, not even leaning on the bar. The beer was perfectly upright, not the hint of relaxation in his grip.
"You're not blending in," Eames told him.
"I'm not riding the mechanical bull, if that's what you're getting at," Arthur told him.
Eames cocked his head to one side. "Do you know, I don't believe you could if you wanted to."
Arthur frowned. "Couldn't ride a fake bull?"
"Well, yes, but you couldn't relax. That's what I was getting at."
"I believe you'll find that riding a mechanical does not require relaxation."
And Arthur was off, across the room, before Eames could follow his thought from comment to action.
And Eames wasn't the only one in the bar who watched intently as Arthur, his thighs clenched on the steel haunches of the bull, rocked aggressively backwards and forwards.
7. Girlyman - Motpelier
Cobb came to find Arthur after three years.
If it had happened a decade ago, Mal would have pushed him to go on the search years before. Ariadne didn't push like that, not in that kind of domestic way. She wriggled into his soul, turned him to face his demons, but let the dishes pile up.
Mal would have called Arthur. She would have called until he picked up and then he would have had to say something.
Cobb showed up in the small dusty town square and asked the little old woman who ran the post office where he lived. Which meant that three different people dropped by within a half hour to tell Arthur someone was looking for him, a stranger.
The town was pretty small.
It was three miles down the highway from where Eames had been run off the road by an unmarked black SUV. It had no other claim to anyone's interest, not even the people who made up the 260 occupants the signpost on the northern end of town claimed.
Arthur got into his beat up truck and drove down the highway.
No one answered the door when Cobb knocked.
8. Julia Nunes - Blushing Cheeks
Arthur's ears got red sometimes. Just at the tips, where you could see from behind.
It happened when Eames called him "darling" the first time. Eames was behind him, at a window (he couldn't remember what was outside the window, what he had been looking at) and he saw it happen.
So then he called him "pet."
He wasn't disappointed.
He found himself trying, without ever concentrating enough to make a plan or to identify a goal, to expand the faint blush. Arthur's speech never faltered, his expression never changed, and he never missed a beat in the volley of gibes and taunts they sent bouncing around the room.
But his ears still got red.
Eames tried dipping into the space next to his ear, where he could have pressed an indecent, open-mouthed kiss to his neck if he'd wanted, and breathed endearments into his ear.
And Arthur's blush spread to his cheeks.
Finally.
9. The Blow - Parentheses
It was the strangest afternoon. Eames was flipping through a ridiculous rag with a headline about bikini lines and How to Make Your Man do something or other. He wasn't reading any of the words. He was barely aware he was holding the magazine at all.
And then Arthur, shopping basket filled with sensible things like vegetables and milk, had stopped next to Eames. He just froze.
Then he burst into a sob, the basket sliding down his arm.
Eames caught it and put his arm around Arthur's shoulders.
Behind them, the cover of a newspaper had a picture of Mal from two years ago on the beach in Barecelona. The headline was the first news either of them had that she'd jumped.
And Eames kept his arm around Arthur, his hand resting on the small of his back.
He never saw such a crack in Arthur's armor again. Not like that day when Arthur leaned into him, a gentle arc.
10. Robert Johnson - Stones in my Passway
"You can't build a wall here," Eames pointed out. "It would just sink."
Arthur ignored him and hefted another rock, his back bent awkwardly. He'd feel it tomorrow.
"It's just not the right kind of terrain," Eames continued. He had a straw of hay sticking out from his mouth. He looked like a cartoon of a cowboy.
Arthur decided to still ignore him. It would have been too much effort to lift the stone and speak.
"You could go into hiding," Eames said. Then he turned his head dramatically to look in either direction, "oh wait. You're already ridiculously well hidden."
"You found me," Arthur huffed.
"It speaks!" Eames said.
Arthur frowned.
"I found you, my darling, because I always do," Eames said and closed his eyes. He pushed his straw hat down over his eyes and ignored the glare Arthur tried to kill him with.
11. K$sha - Party at a Rich Dude's House
The night started with Saito's arms draped across both of their shoulders.
"Kanpai!" he said, downed a champagne flute like it was a shot, and clapped them both soundly on the shoulders. Then he saw someone he knew and disappeared.
There was definitely a portion of the early evening that Arthur spent upside down in the fountain on the lawn. Eames was sitting in a cherub's lap, the stone spout of water blocked by his left thigh.
Then there was a blur and the next thing Eames remembered--Arthur didn't recall this at all though he was the one who had supplied to fountain memory--was tipping a bottle of tequila into Arthur's mouth, too close and noise around them.
Then more blur and then Ariadne threw up in a closet.
Then there was the part where Saito handed out Cubans--someone had just had a baby? Or not?--and there were toasts. Very formal toasts. With rhyme schemes.
Eames's toast was about the road hitting you or something.
They both remembered fireworks when they kissed. No one else did but they swore up and down there was an explosion of gold glitter in the dawn air above them when Eames rolled over the roof and landed on Arthur, their mouths pressed together.
I don't know what my iTunes was up to. It was so very very random. Also so incredibly fun!
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The name of the game (you know the drill):
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
1. The Band - The Weight
Arthur pulled into one of the many identical service areas he'd past--they'd been whizzing by in the corner of his eye--and felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He'd been driving for ten hours straight with only one break to sit morosely at a truck stop and eat food dripping with grease.
When he stepped out of the car, the pavement seemed to still be moving.
Eames was sitting on the curb further down. He held a hand up to shade his eyes to look at Arthur, barely lifiting his head.
Arthur stretched, dawdled, and then moved languorously toward Eames. He didn't like to be sudden or desperate. He didn't like to look like he was aiming at him, at that patch of the curb, towards that piece of tarmac.
"You have no idea how long I've been on the road," Arthur said when he finally reached Eames. He sat next to him and let his knee bump Eames's.
"Ten hours," Eames said, returning his gaze to the highway, seperated from them by an artificial looking strip of trees and grass.
Arthur didn't respond.
2. Rufus Wainwright - Greek Song
Eames looked up at the board of the departing flights. Arthur was already on the line, his destination pre-determined. He probably had it planned months ago. He probably had a timeline worked out, stretching months into the future.
Eames never did. He could go in any direction. He'd had a couple of offers, a couple of jobs waiting for the perfect forger. He'd had more fun offers too--friends, (former) lovers, strangers he wanted to meet, and everything in between.
Arthur was in gray again. No pinstripe today, just the sleek and clear gray suit. His back was to Eames and, even then, Eames felt like he watching his face.
Arthur was at the front of the line and Eames still hadn't made up his mind. East, west, it didn't seem to register.
Then Arthur was at his side again, waving two tickets and making a shy smile.
3. The Temptations - Cloud Nine
Arthur preferred not to have anyone know about his family. It never was what anyone expected of him, not with the sharp lines of his suits and the strict regiment of his life.
It made more sense than people thought, though. They were a large and sprawling family, living hand-to-mouth when they managed even that. He had so many siblings, he didn't even know the younger ones with the kind of intimacy he knew some of his co-workers. His youngest sister was almost a complete stranger.
He cleaned when he visited. He cleaned and organized and catalogued and cooked and repaired. And the he left again.
When he left, the first touch of his skin to his suit, retreieved from his closet, felt like gold. It felt like perfection shimmering against his skin.
And Eames would be waiting to pull it back off.
4. Alphabeat - Rubberboots/Makintosh
"I won't wear those," Arthur said, wrinkling his nose.
Eames rolled his eyes. "This is England, pet. You'll have to make adjustments."
"I have been in England before and--"
"Not in the countryside. You've been in London."
"--I've never had to wear those before." Arthur dripped distaste into his words in heavy doses.
Eames waggled the wellies under his nose again. "It's this or wreck your nice leather loafers."
Arthur gave Eames a look that said, in plainest text, You have made another stupid faux-pas about my clothes and said, "I don't wear loafers, Eames. And I don't see any reason to go out until it stops raining."
Eames could have spent the time explaining that they would be waiting till doomsday for that to happen. He could have told Arthur about the marvel he had felt as a child on the rare sunny day. He could have described the way his family had gone to church in their best clothes and huge, ugly wellies on Sundays (which would have insulted Arthur even more).
Arthur had a bit of a point, though. Not about the weather, because they would be out in it at some point or they would go mad.
But Eames could agree that there wasn't much point in being outside of their bedroom on this particular rainy day.
5. Paolo Nutini - Rewind
Arthur had been minding Cobb for too long, Eames thought. Cobb could explain his moodiness, the way he would drift off from the world around him and fade in front of your eyes.
Arthur seemed to be moving in the opposite direction. When Cobb retreated, Arthur would pull forward, into the vaccuum Cobb left. He'd stare at Dom's face, emotions flitting across his face--concern then despair then, for a brief moment, hope and then back to despair--and he'd be just as lost.
Eames had trouble watching. Then he had trouble not watching, trouble with just being in the room, trouble with breathing the same air. It was like Arthur and Cobb, between them, sucked the life out of the air and pumped it back filled with regret.
Eames drained a shot of whiskey, sitting alone at a bar. He set the glass carefully down on the coaster. He'd had too many, probably, but that was alright. Arthur wasn't there to nag.
That had been a better time, when he'd nagged and nagged.
Eames would have to leave.
So he did.
6. Nancy Sinatra - How does that grab you, Darlin'?
Arthur was ramrod straight, not even leaning on the bar. The beer was perfectly upright, not the hint of relaxation in his grip.
"You're not blending in," Eames told him.
"I'm not riding the mechanical bull, if that's what you're getting at," Arthur told him.
Eames cocked his head to one side. "Do you know, I don't believe you could if you wanted to."
Arthur frowned. "Couldn't ride a fake bull?"
"Well, yes, but you couldn't relax. That's what I was getting at."
"I believe you'll find that riding a mechanical does not require relaxation."
And Arthur was off, across the room, before Eames could follow his thought from comment to action.
And Eames wasn't the only one in the bar who watched intently as Arthur, his thighs clenched on the steel haunches of the bull, rocked aggressively backwards and forwards.
7. Girlyman - Motpelier
Cobb came to find Arthur after three years.
If it had happened a decade ago, Mal would have pushed him to go on the search years before. Ariadne didn't push like that, not in that kind of domestic way. She wriggled into his soul, turned him to face his demons, but let the dishes pile up.
Mal would have called Arthur. She would have called until he picked up and then he would have had to say something.
Cobb showed up in the small dusty town square and asked the little old woman who ran the post office where he lived. Which meant that three different people dropped by within a half hour to tell Arthur someone was looking for him, a stranger.
The town was pretty small.
It was three miles down the highway from where Eames had been run off the road by an unmarked black SUV. It had no other claim to anyone's interest, not even the people who made up the 260 occupants the signpost on the northern end of town claimed.
Arthur got into his beat up truck and drove down the highway.
No one answered the door when Cobb knocked.
8. Julia Nunes - Blushing Cheeks
Arthur's ears got red sometimes. Just at the tips, where you could see from behind.
It happened when Eames called him "darling" the first time. Eames was behind him, at a window (he couldn't remember what was outside the window, what he had been looking at) and he saw it happen.
So then he called him "pet."
He wasn't disappointed.
He found himself trying, without ever concentrating enough to make a plan or to identify a goal, to expand the faint blush. Arthur's speech never faltered, his expression never changed, and he never missed a beat in the volley of gibes and taunts they sent bouncing around the room.
But his ears still got red.
Eames tried dipping into the space next to his ear, where he could have pressed an indecent, open-mouthed kiss to his neck if he'd wanted, and breathed endearments into his ear.
And Arthur's blush spread to his cheeks.
Finally.
9. The Blow - Parentheses
It was the strangest afternoon. Eames was flipping through a ridiculous rag with a headline about bikini lines and How to Make Your Man do something or other. He wasn't reading any of the words. He was barely aware he was holding the magazine at all.
And then Arthur, shopping basket filled with sensible things like vegetables and milk, had stopped next to Eames. He just froze.
Then he burst into a sob, the basket sliding down his arm.
Eames caught it and put his arm around Arthur's shoulders.
Behind them, the cover of a newspaper had a picture of Mal from two years ago on the beach in Barecelona. The headline was the first news either of them had that she'd jumped.
And Eames kept his arm around Arthur, his hand resting on the small of his back.
He never saw such a crack in Arthur's armor again. Not like that day when Arthur leaned into him, a gentle arc.
10. Robert Johnson - Stones in my Passway
"You can't build a wall here," Eames pointed out. "It would just sink."
Arthur ignored him and hefted another rock, his back bent awkwardly. He'd feel it tomorrow.
"It's just not the right kind of terrain," Eames continued. He had a straw of hay sticking out from his mouth. He looked like a cartoon of a cowboy.
Arthur decided to still ignore him. It would have been too much effort to lift the stone and speak.
"You could go into hiding," Eames said. Then he turned his head dramatically to look in either direction, "oh wait. You're already ridiculously well hidden."
"You found me," Arthur huffed.
"It speaks!" Eames said.
Arthur frowned.
"I found you, my darling, because I always do," Eames said and closed his eyes. He pushed his straw hat down over his eyes and ignored the glare Arthur tried to kill him with.
11. K$sha - Party at a Rich Dude's House
The night started with Saito's arms draped across both of their shoulders.
"Kanpai!" he said, downed a champagne flute like it was a shot, and clapped them both soundly on the shoulders. Then he saw someone he knew and disappeared.
There was definitely a portion of the early evening that Arthur spent upside down in the fountain on the lawn. Eames was sitting in a cherub's lap, the stone spout of water blocked by his left thigh.
Then there was a blur and the next thing Eames remembered--Arthur didn't recall this at all though he was the one who had supplied to fountain memory--was tipping a bottle of tequila into Arthur's mouth, too close and noise around them.
Then more blur and then Ariadne threw up in a closet.
Then there was the part where Saito handed out Cubans--someone had just had a baby? Or not?--and there were toasts. Very formal toasts. With rhyme schemes.
Eames's toast was about the road hitting you or something.
They both remembered fireworks when they kissed. No one else did but they swore up and down there was an explosion of gold glitter in the dawn air above them when Eames rolled over the roof and landed on Arthur, their mouths pressed together.
I don't know what my iTunes was up to. It was so very very random. Also so incredibly fun!