undergrounds | (open) hell is deep lord, but we're heading deeper

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(open) hell is deep lord, but we're heading deeper

[With new lords come new excuses to party.]

[Some time on the 19th, the fae stage a takeover of the club fabric in Smithfield. Invitations are sent out to all the fae in London, touting the glorious coming out of the Lords of Rivers and Illusions, Seelie and Unseelie respectively. It's one of those times where fae of both courts just want an excuse to throw a party, and the invitation is all the notice said new lords get that they are going to be guests of honour.]

[It's a typical fae affair; the magic is heavy in all three rooms, one of which is decorated like a ballroom in Other Realm fashion. The food and drink served at the bar remains untouched by fae charms, but the fae presence itself seems to be intoxicating. Some of the activities happening in dark corners seem to be a little beyond what's regularly allowed at any reputable nightclub, but don't pay attention to that just enjoy the party.]

[If you manage to cause any trouble, a team of large fae is here to escort you out. You may have seen them faithfully guarding the door, sniffing out those who may want to cause harm to the high concentration of fae inside. Vampires can be let through if they have a fae companion with them, and otherwise all types of humans and supernatural alike are allowed in.]

[The party goes on for precisely 72 hours, and on the 22nd the party winds down and mysteriously disappears. The club is left a little cleaner than when it started, the staff left completely befuddled about what just occurred.] (x)

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[Why is Arthur here? Well, Arthur got butt-dialed. Arthur has come to see what the big fuss is about, since he had heard about the party but had no reason to show up until he heard Eames partying it up and decided he wanted to see what that looks like.]

[Anyway here he is, having only had a couple beers at home and choosing not to take anything from the fae. He stands at the edge of the room scanning it for Eames - and then he sees the fae. Shirtless and dancing. Dear god.]

[For obvious reasons, it takes Eames a little while to notice Arthur. Far too busy having a good time to do things like 'looking around' or 'paying attention'. When he does spot Arthur, he squints at him for... Well, it's a while. Totally perplexed by his arrival.]

[Okay, better see what this is about. He walks over - confused, because this totally isn't Arthur's scene, but not displeased to see him.]

What are you doing here?

[Arthur raises his eyebrows at him. He's obviously intoxicated, and that's mildly amusing.]

You called me.

[He pauses just long enough to maybe let Eames think he did it in a drunken haze, but then he clarifies:] Accidentally. I could hear the party going on, I thought I'd come see what it was all about.

[Eames already has his phone out by the time Arthur amends his statement, and he laughs when he sees Arthur's number in the recent calls list.] So I did!

[Ha! Ridiculous.]

[Anyway.]

[He nods at Arthur, answering some thought he hasn't actually voiced, followed by a friendly grin and a clap on the shoulder.] Well you're here now. [And he's just gonna. Try and lead Arthur to the dancefloor here.] Be a shame not to enjoy it.

What? No, I--

[Oh god he's being lead to the dancefloor.]

I don't really do the dancing thing. Eames--

[He looks like a deer caught in the headlights. This is not what he was expecting. What was he expecting, anyway? NOT THIS.]

What?

[Oh. Is this something Arthur's bad at? Eames. Looks. Delighted. He hands off his drink to someone walking past because it's just that kind of party, and continues walking him toward the floor. But he's a little less forceful about it now.]

You must be able to dance. I've seen those hips in action.

[Arthur clears his throat because there's nothing to choke on and takes a deep breath.]

That's different, that's--

[Holy shit why is he arguing this. He should just pull away and get out of here ASAP but he's kind of frozen in an embarrassed state of not being able to think that quickly.]

[Well Arthur that escape window is closing very fast and-- oh, is it. Is it closed? Well looks like he's just gonna have to dance.]

I'm not asking you to do a Charleston, Arthur.

[He just barely manages to resist adding that he is great at the Charleston, but he does. Eames stops and turns to face Arthur instead, briefly reaching to put his hands on Arthur's hips before he thinks better of it and puts his hands on his own hips instead.]

Just... Relax.

[Being surrounded by all of these people, one has no choice but to sway somewhat to the beat of the music.]

This is not my idea of relaxing.

[HM.] How much have you had to drink?

[Arthur shakes his head.]

Not enough.

Wait here.

[He's not waiting for any protests, he is gone.]

[What - oh my god. He is now alone in the middle of a dancefloor at a fae party how did this happen. Someone please save him from this Eames come back.]

[So that's ten minutes of lonely suffering Arthur is going to have to endure before Eames returns with two drinks. They are quite strong, though at this point Eames has lost the ability to tell.]

Here. [And he offers one over.] It's safe. No drugs, no magic.

[Arthur raises an eyebrow at Eames, but then he sighs and starts tossing the drink back. And it is strong. He actually winces at the first taste, but he pushes through because it's polite. Right? And Eames said there were no drugs and no magic, so that's good.]

[Well okay. It's really more of a sipping drink, but if that's what Arthur wants to do Eames won't stop him. He watches this with raised eyebrows for a moment before he steps in closer, one hand poised and ready to go right on one of Arthur's hips. It's basically just hovering an inch away.]

How relaxed are you now?

[Because this is happening. There was a chance to leave and you missed it.]

[Arthur frowns at Eames. This is all a lot and the alcohol hasn't even hit him yet, but the atmosphere in here and Eames's face and everything... well, it's all very tempting.]

[He looks down at his drink and takes another sip of it.]

Getting there.

[Eames laughs and puts his hand on Arthur's hip, slipping a couple of fingers in a beltloop so he can move Arthur's hips a little more than just a gentle, awkward swaying in time to the music. He slips a foot between his to nudge his feet apart a little too while he's at it. Looking less horrendously dadlike already.]

[Arthur's hips do pretty much what Eames' hand tells them to do, though he seems to be resistant to any kind of actual smooth movement whatsoever. He takes a deep breath, looking down between them. He's about to hate himself for pointing this out, isn't he?]

It's a little close, isn't it?

Most dancing is, Arthur.

[The comment totally doesn't faze him, he just looks at Arthur like he's pointed out something mind-numbingly obvious. But that could just be the concentration on his face at trying to get Arthur moving a little more smoothly. It's amazing. He knows he capable of it, why can't that translate to dance?]

[He tries for another minute or two, but it's useless. He just fixates on it more and more and it gets more and more difficult to relax, until finally he puts his hand on Eames' to peel it away from his hip.]

No, this isn't happening.

[He holds up his hands in defeat and turns to leave the dance floor. He should probably just leave forever now, right. This has been thoroughly embarrassing. Thanks Eames.]

[Well, he tried. Eames relents and moves aside so Arthur can pass, and he follows him off the floor. What else is he gonna do?]

Fine. You're definitely not a dancer.

[His tone, whilst very amused, is surprisingly devoid of mocking.]

I'm not.

[Arthur finds his way to a slightly less crowded area and puts his hands on his hips, trying to get over the whole paralyzing embarrassment thing.]

[Make no mistake, when he's sober this is absolutely something he's going to make fun of Arthur for, but right now? He feels great and he kind of just wants everyone else to feel great too.]

[In unrelated news, there may be something more than just alcohol in his system right now.]

[Anyway, he gives Arthur a bit of a sympathetic look. A bit, because he's also completely failing to hide how happy he is about this.] It's fine. No one cares.

[Arthur waves that off, refusing to look at Eames' smile right now.]

It's not that.

[He sighs again and gives Eames a hard look.]

You are very drunk right now.

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