plot twist: teenagers are bad at feelings

[prethief]

[So. He said a lot of things he'd never planned to say at all ever. That's fine. Eames can live with that. He's said a lot of dumb shit in his life so far and he hasn't died yet.]

[Of course, previous instances of 'dumb shit' weren't an incomplete baring of his surprisingly complicated feelings surrounding anal sex. Which, well. He's never thought about it at any great length, so it leaves him feeling deeply embarrassed and angry about being embarrassed in the first place. Eames elects to spend the weekend with some other friends to blow off steam, any texts from Arthur getting a quick "sorry, busy" in response so he doesn't have to think about what a fucking moron he is.]

[It's harder to ignore him come Monday, but Eames thinks the fact that he's turned up hungover as fuck and mainlining energy drinks to get through the day does a lot to stop anyone from talking to him. And the one class he has with Arthur that day, he spends the time sleeping in his car instead. And the one after that. And basically the rest of the school day. Still there once people start filtering out for the end of the day.]

Comments

[interpunct]

It's gross.

[Arthur pins Eames' arms down to his chest, but only loosely so Eames could move any time he wants to.]

[prethief]

[Eames shakes his head, letting Arthur do whatever with his arms for the time being.]

It's not that bad.

[interpunct]

Says the guy sneezing everywhere.

[Arthur sighs and sits up, letting go of Eames' arms so he can run his fingers through his hair and assess the damage. It's not like there's a wad of snot in his hair but still Eames sneezed right into it. There are definitely germs.]

[prethief]

[He drops his leg from around Arthur when he sits up, bringing an arm up under his head and leaving the other draped over his stomach.]

Well it's not like it's the biggest mess I've made on you.

[Wink.]

[interpunct]

[God if Arthur weren't giving Eames a mildly annoyed look right now he'd probably be blushing.]

Yeah, well at least that mess is fun to make.

[prethief]

Personally I'm having a great time.

[interpunct]

[Heavy sigh. There is just no winning with him, which means it's time to change the subject.]

So where'd you go last night?

[prethief]

Oh, uh...

[FROWN] Hung out with Chaz and that lot, went out to a club... [He pulls a face, trying to remember all the details of the previous night, and then shakes his head when he gives up.] Then I woke up on someone's floor this morning.

[interpunct]

Wow.

[Arthur sits down on the bed with his back to the wall, draping his legs over Eames'.]

I'm surprised you came to school at all.

[prethief]

Figured I might as well, seeing as I actually did my homework for once.

[S I G H] Not that it matters now.

[interpunct]

[Arthur shrugs.]

Just hand it in tomorrow.

[prethief]

[Eames snorts and shakes his head.]

You only get to hand stuff in late when the teachers like you.

[interpunct]

You know it's not that hard to make them like you, right?

[prethief]

Mmm. [He thinks on that for all of two seconds.] Seems like a lot of work I don't want to do.

[interpunct]

[Another heavy sigh, because Arthur doesn't think it's that much work but he's never going to convince Eames that.]

My mom's probably wondering where I am.

[prethief]

Just tell her you're hanging out with her favourite delinquent.

[He grins, and then pushes himself up on an elbow to give Arthur a Serious Look.]

I am her favourite, right?

[interpunct]

[He raises his eyebrows at Eames and then smiles softly, a little bit charmed by the fact that Eames might actually worry about this.]

Yeah, she likes you. She gives my dad a hard time about what a jerk he is all the time.

[prethief]

Good.

[And he lays back down with a sigh. He likes Arthur's mother, she's nice and she doesn't act like Eames is out to ruin their dear, sweet son or something. His dad can go fuck himself, in Eames' estimation, but she's nice.]

[Either way, Eames stretches out a little, looking up at the ceiling.]

You better call before she files a missing persons report or something.

[interpunct]

[Arthur slips off the bed to get his bag, which he dropped just inside Eames' door, and find his phone so he can call his mother. It's not a long conversation, but he does pause in the middle of it and ask her to hold on a moment as he looks up at Eames.]

She wants to know if I'll be home for dinner.

[prethief]

[Why is he being asked. Eames pulls a face at that, because he is not the arbiter of Arthur's schedule, and shrugs broadly.]

I don't know? Will you?

[interpunct]

[Arthur rolls his eyes, not sure what he was expecting, then tells his mother he will indeed be home for dinner and that he'll see her shortly. After he's hung up he comes back to the bed and sits down on the edge.]

I have to leave in half an hour.

[And he raises his eyebrow at Eames as if he's asking what he wants to do.]

[prethief]

[Half an hour is plenty of time for makeouts right.]

[Eames sits up on his knees behind Arthur and bows his head to kiss his neck with a soft hum.]

[interpunct]

[Arthur hums happily, tilting his head to encourage more of that kind of contact. He always feels weird initiating stuff unless he's absolutely sure Eames is in the mood, always a little bit anxious that Eames suddenly won't want him anymore. It's pretty irrational, he knows, but it's enough to make him hesitate.]

[So this is nice.]

[prethief]

[It's funny, because Eames operates in exactly the opposite way, always assuming Arthur wants him until given evidence otherwise. It's a kind of confidence that serves him well.]

[He sighs softly and leans in closer to Arthur, kissing up the side of his neck with a smile, and lightly pulling a hand up under his shirt to rest on his stomach and pull Arthur back against him.]

[interpunct]

[Arthur makes a sound like a soft moan from the back of his throat, going easily and putting his hand on Eames' thigh behind him. It's as much as he can do from here, other than trying to turn his head to catch Eames in a real kiss.]