Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/189878.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Inception_(2010)
  Relationship:
      Arthur/Eames_(Inception)
  Character:
      Arthur_(Inception), Eames_(Inception)
  Additional Tags:
      High_School, Alternate_Universe, Romance, First_Time
  Series:
      Part 4 of Glycerine
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-04-24 Words: 4528
****** A Movie Script Ending ******
by cherryvanilla
Summary
     “Now we all know the words were true in the sappiest songs.” Or, a
     day trip filled with music, pizza, and another first for Arthur.
Notes
     Title and Summary by Deathcab for Cutie. Arthur is 16, Eames is 18.
See the end of the work for more notes
Arthur’s had crushes before but they’ve never felt like this. With Robert
Fischer, it was weird because they’d been friends since grade school and
suddenly Arthur was 13 and realizing he wasn’t interested in the way Sally
Kendrickson was sucking on her lollipop. Instead, he was intently focused on
the way Robert would randomly chew on the ends of his long hair during class.
With Robert, he felt exhilarated because they actually talked and Arthur
cherished those stolen moments. Then one afternoon after school when Arthur had
perhaps been sitting a bit too close, Robert had leaned over and said, “It’s
cool, you know... but I’m not like you, Arthur. I kinda like Sally.” And so
Arthur maybe had cried a little to Ariadne that night who, in turn, cried with
him upon discovering she wasn’t the object of Robert’s affections either.
Things had been weird for a little while but eventually they were cool and now
Arthur can’t even remember having those feelings for Robert; at the time they
felt heightened and real but it was obviously nothing more than a passing fad.
Then he met Dom and this crush was more lovesick puppy than anything else. At
first he’d admired him from afar but soon, since Ariadne had made friends with
Mal, Arthur had found himself on the receiving end of little nods in the
hallway that would cause him to go wide-eyed and goofy. Yet he found the more
he hung out with Dom, actually got to know him, the less he objectified him.
Dom ended up becoming real; not just a thought in his head after months of
watching him from his open locker. Dom was smart and didn’t fall into any type
of jock stereotype you could think of and most of all, he genuinely liked
Arthur. As crushes go, it all ended up being rather pathetically anticlimactic
but Arthur hadn’t really cared in the end, especially since Mal was rather
terrific.
With Eames, it’s completely different. Eames makes his pulse race just by
smiling at him. Arthur doesn’t just want to be with him constantly but, in
addition, wonders what he’s doing when he’s not. Eames makes Arthur think about
life after high school, trips to England and upcoming planned concerts. Eames
looks at Arthur in ways Arthur’s only seen in movies or read about in classic
novels. Eames, Arthur recognizes, is no crush. Arthur understands things are
all that more severe in high school. He’s heard the tales; everything seems
more dramatic, more important, and more significant than it really is. With
Eames, Arthur fails to think this statistic applies.
________________________________________
They make out a lot. It’s better than Arthur ever imagined while in his room at
night, jerking himself off to pictures of Gavin Rossdale and Eddie Vedder.
Eames can’t seem to get enough of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur, in turn, is rather
partial to Eames’ thighs and the way they feel against his palms, warm and
firm. Arthur likes it even more when Eames is naked against him. Each time
they’ve seen each other since That Saturday, Arthur wonders if this day will be
“The Day”. Eames keeps the stuff in his drawer near his bed and Arthur could
easily reach over and open it; he’s thought about it a countless number of
times.
Instead, on a Saturday afternoon in which they’re both completely free of
obligations, Eames takes him on a day trip to a record store in downtown
Chicago; Arthur’s never seen him so giddy just at the mere prospect.
They drive in Eames’ Saturn, Eames popping in a cassette blindly, which is
obviously in the middle of its playback. One song ends and Arthur recognizes
the one that begins. Eames starts humming along to Why’d You Want You, while
Jim from The Jesus and Mary Chain sings that he gave himself to drink and drugs
and filth.
“Now this is definitely on The Sound of Speed.”
Eames shoots him a quick, toothy grin. “Still love that you know it. And them
in general.”
Arthur smiles and can’t help but duck his head a little. Eames just does things
to him. Eames starts chattering on about Jim’s voice and how awesome he is.
“You have a bit of a crush on him, don’t you?” Arthur asks, barely a question.
Eames’ grin is lopsided. “I’ll never tell.”
“You so do,” Arthur pokes at him. “Have you ever seen them in concert?” And
seriously, how has he never asked this before?
“Yeah, saw them play Shepherd’s Bush a couple years back. Oh my god, they were
bloody incredible, Arthur.”
Arthur smiles; he’s been doing that an awful lot lately. His sister rolls her
eyes at him on a near daily basis before saying, “Seriously, Arthur I’m going
to puke if you don’t stop.”
“Sounds like it was great,” Arthur says to Eames.
“Mmm,” says Eames, reaching over to run his fingers down Arthur’s shoulder.
Even through his flannel and Hole t-shirt the touch is like fire.
The drive is a rather lengthy one so after a few songs Eames tells Arthur to
put on whatever he wants. Arthur digs through the mess of tapes in the glove
compartment and finds something that is literally labeled “random mix.” He
shakes his head and pops it in.
The distant electric shrill of Mr. Freeze by K’s Choice fills the speakers
around them and Arthur smiles brightly, looking over at Eames. As soon as the
lyrics begin they start singing, loud and emphatic. They collapse into giggles
after a few seconds.
“I love them,” Arthur says “Sarah’s voice is awesome.”
“Yeah it is,” Eames agrees.
“Would you wanna see them if they come around?” he asks Eames, tentatively.
“Fuck yes,” Eames says and Arthur feels himself flush. One of these days he’ll
stop getting so excited over the prospect of future plans. One of these days
he’ll realize Eames isn’t about to walk out of his life any moment. But then
“Wait” comes on and Arthur remembers that was essentially his life before
Eames; hopeless crushes and unattainable boys. The song used to make him
wistful, but, now looking at Eames all it does is make him realize how much
that uncertainty no longer exists.
________________________________________________
When they walk into the record store Arthur cannot suppress an incredulous
laugh. He looks at Eames, who shrugs in return, grinning. Cherry Came Too is
playing over the speakers and Eames immediately starts singing to himself.
“Cherry takes me to the place above, with barbed wire kisses...” Arthur loves
Eames’ singing voice; it’s a higher register, soft and lilting. Eames is
practically bobbing his head as he falls in step in front of Arthur, navigating
the narrow aisle. Eames walks with a near bounce in his step and Arthur smiles
so hard his dimples hurt. He’s wearing his damn Ride t-shirt (“It’s my
favorite, love,” he’d said one day) which is far too loose fitting and Arthur
again spares a thought to tearing it off him so he can see all that is
underneath. Once Eames takes off his denim jacket later, though, Arthur knows
he’ll be able to see muscles straining under the cuffs of his shirt. Arthur
just wants to lick him.
“This reminds me of the record store in Before Sunrise,” Arthur muses. “Have
you seen it?”
“No.”
“I’ll have to show it to you sometime,” Arthur says absently. “Anyway, there
were listening booths in that store and this amazing scene in which the two
characters are sitting in one.” Arthur doesn’t add that he wishes to reenact
that scene with Eames.
Eames looks back and smiles at him, fondly. “We have those in London. I’d love
to take you.”
Arthur flushes when Eames’ hand inches backward, his fingers casually brushing
Arthur’s thigh.
Arthur wonders if he’ll ever get used to this, used to Eames, who is warm and
inviting yet fiercely passionate and opinionated. And sometimes he looks at
Arthur, like he is right now, as though no one else in the world exists.
They split up at the end of the row, Eames heading immediately toward the vinyl
while Arthur ties to hunt down Mazzy Star’s first CD which has been eluding him
for years; his damn CD club doesn’t carry it and neither does The Wiz.
They catch one another’s eyes across the store and hold their arms up in
victory at the same time. Eames is grinning with a soft look in his eyes as
they make their ways over to one another.
Eames asks what Arthur’s buying and wrinkles his nose when Arthur shows him;
not at the content but Arthur’s preferred method of playback. “One day I’ll
break you of the habit of those evil shiny circles,” Eames laments.
“One day you will succumb to their power,” Arthur replies.
“Never! I shall prevail!’ Eames says emphatically, raising his fist in some
kind of vinyl solidarity. Arthur laughs and shoves at him playfully. A girl
looking in the ‘rock’ section catches Arthur’s eye and gives him a sly yet soft
smile like she knows a secret. Perhaps she does.
“Whatcha got?” says Arthur. Eames holds his conquest proudly in front of him.
Arthur quirks an eyebrow. “Bowie? Thought for sure you’d be leaving here with
something that starts with ‘Jesus’ and ends with ‘Chain’.”
Eames grins like a shark. “Serves you right for assuming, darling. Not so
predicable as you thought, am I now?”
Arthur feels his face heat up at the endearment.
“Have you ever heard Ziggy?” Arthur shakes his head and feels his blush spread
high on his cheekbones. Eames is murmuring now, voice all liquidly smooth and
deep. Arthur has a flash of them in bed together, roving hands and his own lips
trailing down the column of Eames’ throat.
Eames’ grin grows impossibly wider, as though he knows Arthur’s exact thoughts.
“Ready?” he asks, completely innocent.
Arthur licks his lips. “As ever.” He leaves his tone suggestive and walks to
the front of the store, fully aware if he looked back Eames would be staring at
his ass with his mouth slightly open.
When they exit, Eames suggests a restaurant with some fantastic deep dish.
Their hands bump occasionally as they walk, and Arthur finds himself wanting to
lean into the contact.
They talk about school while they eat; Eames has an upcoming art history exam
that he’s worried about and Arthur… well, Arthur always feels uncomfortable
talking about school because high school must seem so trivial to Eames.
Regardless, Eames always appears interested and completely empathetic to
whatever Arthur says.
After they’ve both devoured their meals, Arthur notices a few stray crumbs at
the corner of his mouth. Impulsively, he leans over to brush them off. Eames
captures his fingers, curling the digits around his own, fitting them against
his knuckles. Arthur looks at their hands on the table and swallows.
“Um,” Arthur starts.
“What’s wrong?” asks Eames, voice warm and fond.
Arthur’s staring at their hands and then he casts a furtive look around the
restaurant. “Just.. guys don’t normally. Hold hands, in public. Right?”
Eames shrugs and looks around them, then back at Arthur. “I don’t care. Why, do
you?” His voice is a little hard and Arthur stares at their fingers again
before slowly rubbing his thumb against the back of Eames’ hand. “No, I just
never thought you wouldn’t.’
Eames squeezes Arthur’s hand. “Well, you don’t know me as well as thought then,
do you?” Eames says quietly and then raises their entwined hands to his lips
and kisses them just as the waitress comes over. Arthur vaguely sees her double
take but Eames never releases Arthur’s hand, just smiles at her brightly and
thanks her for the check.
Eames holds Arthur’s hand all the way back to the car. Arthur’s full aware of
the random stares and head shakes they’re receiving but he can’t bring himself
to care about other people’s hate and ignorance; not when Eames’ hand is warm
and dry in his and Eames is looking at him like he’s the only person who
exists. There’s only one train of thought racing through Arthur’s mind and it
scares the hell out of him: I love him I love him I fucking love him.
Back in the car Arthur falls silent, somewhat reeling from the strength of his
feelings. It isn’t like he only just realized this could be love. To be honest,
he’s been feeling it since their first official date but it’s more acute now,
inescapable. Eames doesn’t push him to talk, understands that sometimes Arthur
gets weird and quiet. He hums along to Slowdive, his hand resting on Arthur’s
thigh. Arthur leans his head back against the seat and sighs contentedly, mind
suddenly turning towards what will happen when they get back to Eames’ room. He
shivers in anticipation; Eames’ fingers tighten around his thigh in response.
 
_______________________________________________
“You wanna listen to Ziggy?” Eames asks, pushing his way through the door to
his dorm room. He immediately slings his jacket over the desk chair; Arthur
wants to pounce on him.
“Yeah, sure,” Arthur says and sits down on the bed, toeing off his converse.
Eames follows suit, then hesitates at the foot of the bed. Arthur pushes
backwards onto it, looking up at Eames in invitation.
“Um..” Eames stammers and Arthur thinks, oh shit, this is it. “Do you.. I
bought some.. pot off Nash and uh, Ziggy’s really good to listen to stoned.”
Arthur begins to open his mouth because this was not what he expected but Eames
continues in a rush, “I don’t normally do it, Arthur, just.. sometimes. I hope
you, I mean..” Eames trails off and Arthur reaches up, rubbing at Eames’ bare
forearm.
“Eames, it’s cool. And um, yeah, sure.. we can.”
Eames lets out a rush of air and the tension in his shoulders dissipates.
Eames walks to the desk and Arthur watches as he packs a bowl and then loads up
the record. Arthur notes he locks the door on his way back to the bed and a
tremor of anticipation surges through him once more.
“One day we’ll have to do this while watching The Wizard of Oz and listening to
Dark Side,” Eames says. Arthur’s certain there’s a story there but he’s not
interested at the moment. He just nods absently and shifts over, scooting back
against the pillows while the bed dips from Eames’ weight.
Eames leans over and kisses Arthur shallowly before sucking in a hit. Arthur
watches, ready to mimic Eames’ movements but soon Eames’ lips are on his and
he’s breathing into Arthur’s mouth, lips slightly parted. Arthur inhales,
taking in the tendrils of smoke and the soft press of Eames’ mouth. Eames
kisses him then; tongue brushes Arthur’s in hello. Arthur smiles against Eames’
lips; he fits here. Arthur blows out the smoke as they part, feeling a little
loose. Eames takes another hit. Arthur’s noticed the music around them, and
falls into its dreamy rhythm. Bowie is singing about five years and Arthur
thinks he’s love with both the sound and the man next to him.
Eames sets the bowl down on the nightstand and curls around Arthur, diving
straight in for his lips while pressing a hand to the small of his back. Arthur
throws his leg over Eames’ calf and cants his hips forward.
Eames’ hands are trailing over his ass with intent and Arthur breaks away,
gasping, “Is um…will someone..?”
Eames shakes his head, eyes stunningly dark, lips red and swollen. “Nash is
away for the weekend.”
Arthur nods, shakily, and surges forward again. Eames slides his hand beneath
Arthur’s clothes, fingers brushing the skin at the waistband of his jeans while
his other hand slowly slides down the zipper to his hoodie. Arthur finds the
move beyond hot and presses back into Eames’ hand, which is now traveling up
his spine, palm flat and fingers splayed wide.
Arthur begins to lose himself in Eames’ touches and the music filling the room.
He loves what he’s hearing but he wants Eames naked against him even more. He
tugs at Eames’ shirt, pulling it up and off before capturing Eames’ lips with
his again, kissing him harder, a clash of tongue and teeth. Eames moans softly
against Arthur’s mouth and it still thrills him that he can coax those sounds
of Eames. He slides his hands down to the front of Eames’ jeans, popping upon
the button and fingering the zipper. Eames groans deep in his throat and starts
fumbling for Arthur’s own fly. Eames’ mouth breaks away to suck kisses down
Arthur’s neck, pausing right above his shirt collar before latching on,
scraping his teeth slightly amidst the suction. Arthur jerks in his arms while
Eames sucks what will undoubtedly be a dark bruise into Arthur’s skin. He can’t
be bothered to care; just slides Eames’ zipper down carefully, feeling the
thick bulge beneath his knuckles.
“Arthur,” Eames sighs against his throat. He gets Arthur’s own zipper down and
then pulls back to sit on his haunches, slipping between Arthur’s spread
thighs. Arthur grins lazily up at him, the little bit of pot he inhaled taking
effect, making him feel light and giddy. Eames’ own eyes are red and his pupils
are blown. He licks his lips lewdly and tugs Arthur’s pants down. Arthur
shimmies his hips and arches upward. His jeans get tangled around Eames’ body
and he kicks them off, one leg at a time. Eames laughs and runs his fingers
over Arthur’s boxers, teasing the length of him. Arthur’s head falls back
against the pillow and he reaches for Eames blindly. Eames, however, is already
scrambling off the bed, shedding his jeans as he goes before settling between
Arthur’s thighs, biting at the first the left then the right. Arthur’s hands
immediately fall to Eames’ shoulders, stroking the broad expanse as his eyes
drift closed again.
Eames slowly eases Arthur’s boxers off, pushing them down around his thighs.
Arthur’s hips surge forward when he feels the warm heat of Eames’ mouth
suckling lazily at the head of his dick. Eames swallows him deeper and Arthur
cries out, gasping Eames’ name while tight, wet heat surrounds him. Eames
traces Arthur’s lips with the pads of his fingers. Arthur opens beneath him, as
if on automatic, sucking two fingers deep into his mouth, rolling his tongue
around the soft skin. Heat pools behind Arthur’s eyes when Eames moans in
appreciation, the rumbling sound vibrating around Arthur’s cock.
Arthur’s so distracted by the feel of Eames’ mouth and the quick flicks of his
incredible tongue that he doesn’t register at first when a slick finger circles
his hole. Not until Eames is slowly pushing in does Arthur jerk.
Eames pulls off, his cheek rubbing against the underside of Arthur’s cock.
“Shhh, relax, love. This okay?”
Arthur breathes deeply. “Yes, yeah.” And god, it is. Eames’ fingers are blunter
than his own and the burn is delicious. Arthur spreads his legs a little wider.
Eames is slow and careful, going back to lick at Arthur’s cock before
swallowing him down again. His finger barely presses forward, just shallowly
breaching him over and over until Arthur loosens around him. Eames presses
deeper while sucking Arthur down to the root and Arthur’s never been more
thankful for Eames’ multitasking skills or his fanfuckingtastic fingers. Arthur
nearly comes when Eames’ finger brushes over a particular spot and his hips
jolt forward. Eames doesn’t even choke, just sucks him harder and twists his
finger slightly. Eames has two fingers in Arthur before he realizes it, mouth
now nuzzling at his balls, rolling them against his tongue. Arthur slowly rolls
his hips in time with Eames’ thrusts, his mouth suddenly dry and his eyes thick
with sweat. Then Eames is gone and reaching over Arthur to The Drawer and yes,
fucking yes. Eames says nothing, just returns to kissing him, letting Arthur
taste his own pre-come. They kiss without urgency and somehow, Arthur knew it
would be like this; that once they finally got here it’d be slow and unhurried;
like they’re afraid something will shatter.
Somehow, Eames lost his briefs and is pressed naked against him, tugging Arthur
into his arms and reaching behind him to press a now even slicker finger
against his hole. Arthur tugs Eames’ bottom lip into his mouth, his hands
running up Eames’ thighs and down over his ass, squeezing him close so their
dicks bump and glide together. Eames slides two fingers in and groans against
Arthur’s open mouth, their panting breaths mingling together. When Eames tries
for three, Arthur stutters out a sharp cry.
“I’m sorry,” Eames says, voice low and soft. Arthur melts against him, mouth
angling lower to bite along Eames’ jaw.
“It’s okay,” Arthur reassures, willing his body to relax.
“I want you so much,” Eames breathes. Arthur tightens his hold on Eames’ ass
and groans when their cocks come further into contact.
“Please,” is all Arthur can say and when Eames presses in deeper, spreads him
wider, his head falls back and he comes, cursing as he does because fuck, no.
“Oh, god, Arthur,” Arthur can hear Eames saying through the rush of blood in
his ears. “Oh christ, you’re beautiful.” Arthur’s biting his own lip and Eames’
mouth is hot and parted against his throat. Arthur’s cock jerks between them,
splashing their bodies with come and Arthur can’t bother to care about going
off early when Eames is saying things like that. Eames fingers are still inside
him, and Arthur feels so full.
Before he can so much as blink down at Eames, he’s gone again, fingers sliding
out and mouth dipping down to lap at Arthur’s stomach. Arthur quivers beneath
his touch, aftershocks still coursing through his body.
Eames is murmuring things Arthur can’t make out against his belly before
maneuvering Arthur onto his side, facing away from him. Arthur feels Eames’
body fitting tightly against his and he decides he could stay like this
forever.
He’s about to tell Eames this, But then he hears something being ripped open
and Arthur knows what it is, knows what is about to happen and saying those
words aloud suddenly don’t seem as important.
Eames lifts Arthur’s leg, holding it beneath his knee and stroking ever so
slightly. Arthur feels him nudge his hips closer, feels the latex covered head
of Eames’ cock brushes against his opening. Eames starts to push in, telling
Arthur to “breathe out, easy now.” Arthur feels sweat drip down the sides of
his face and worries at his bottom lip.
Eames pushes in another inch and Arthur feels stretched impossibly wide around
him. “Is this okay?” Eames asks, voice low and tentative.
Arthur didn’t even realize his eyes were squeezed shut until his forehead
begins to hurt. His chest is heaving and one of Eames’ arms is curled beneath
his ribs, stroking his abdomen over and over. “Is this okay?” whispers Eames.
He covers Eames' hand where it's on his knee, squeezes his fingers and says,
“Yeah, just.. go slow.”
Eames kisses behind Arthur’s ear, lips brushing his dampened hair more than
anything else. “As slow as you need,” Eames responds. Eames’ hips stutter and
Arthur hears him take a deep, shuddering breath. Eames holds himself still, so
still, while curving his fingers down around Arthur’s waist. Arthur takes in
the feel of Eames' cock, wistfully wishing he could be bare against his
insides. He feels his cock begin to stir again, feels Eames’ fingers now
slippery against his knee, lifting his leg a little higher.
Arthur hears Eames take a gulping breath, fingers raising to brush along the
too strained muscles of Arthur’s stomach. “You're fantastic.,” whispers Eames.
“So tight. God, Arthur you're unreal.”
Arthur's chest seizes at the words and then he reaches back, awkwardly, sliding
his fingers along Eames' torso, curling against Eames' skin and pulling him in.
"I'm ready.. come on..” Arthur urges, head dropping back against Eames'
shoulder. Eames shuffles, attempting to raise his trapped arm. He manages to
crook it so he can swipe Arthur’s hair off his forehead. He leans forward and
kisses Arthur's temple. Arthur feels him push slowly out and then back in; he
cries out in painful pleasure while Eames finds a rhythm, all the while Eames
asking him, “How does this feel? This okay, baby?”
Arthur’s dick is full now, pressing against his stomach and he’s never felt
such a mix of sensations in his life. Eames fucks into him slowly, so slow,
bending Arthur’s leg up and back, widening the angle of his thrusts until
Arthur is loose and pliant around him. Eames’ lips stay firmly planted to his
neck, licking and suckling fervently. Arthur pushes back against each thrust,
their movements becoming more kinetic and ungraceful.
“Touch yourself,” Eames begs, mouth brushing along Arthur’s jaw. Arthur does;
grips his now leaking cock and pushes back harder against Eames, grinding back
against him, neck craning, and stretching into a clumsy kiss. Eames groans
softly against his lips, biting and tugging until Arthur can do nothing but
gasp.
“I’m gonna come,” Eames says, “Arthur, oh.” and Arthur clenches around him,
lets himself feel the pulsing of Eames’ cock inside him. He bucks up into his
own hand and goes off a few seconds later, with Eames whispering his name over
and over.
They breathe heavily and Eames drops Arthur’s leg slowly, pulling back a little
and easing himself out. Arthur sighs as he slips out, body instinctively moving
backward. Eames strokes his hair, tucking some unruly strands behind his ear
before kissing Arthur’s cheek, his jaw, anywhere he can reach, it seems. Arthur
snuggles back against him, feeling achy and sore but loving every minute of it.
“How are you?” Eames asks.
“Mmm, good,” Arthur sighs, stretching and turning, his arms slipping around
Eames’ waist. Arthur settles himself against Eames and tucks his neck beneath
Eames’ chin.
“After this… I may never be able to stop now, Arthur,” Eames says, laughing a
little.
Arthur looks up at him. “I don’t want you to stop,” he says, with all the
honesty he has in him.
Eames’ head jerks down, his eyes turning serious. He searches Arthur’s face for
a moment and then says, “I won’t.”
This is the moment when you say I love you. Arthur knows it. Just like he knows
he and Eames are mirror images of one another right now. Eames’ lips part but
no sound emits. His eyes drift away from Arthur’s face and he looks lost for a
moment.
Arthur cups Eames’ cheek with the palm of his hand. “Me too.” When Eames meets
his gaze his eyes are wide with surprise.
Then Arthur is being hugged so tightly that all of the air sweeps out of his
lungs. “God,” Eames says shakily. “Arthur,” he laughs, a little wildly. “You’re
right stuck with me, you know that, yeah?”
Arthur closes his eyes and lets a wide grin spread across his face. “Good.” He
squeezes Eames tighter to him, pressing his face into the juncture of Eames’
neck.
Good.
[end]
End Notes
     This is most likely the last story in this series and I do hope
     you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it.
     this is Eames’ Ride shirt
     This is Arthur’s Hole shirt
     The_Sound_of_Speed is a compilation of rare tracks/b-sides/singles
     from The Jesus and Mary Chain.
     Mazzy_Star
     ’s first CD is She Hangs Brightly.
     Eames_bought_David_Bowie’s_The_Rise_and_Fall_of_Ziggy_Stardust_and
     the_Spiders_From_Mars,_one_of_the_greatest_albums_to_ever_exist.
     In case you don’t know, if you sync up The Wizard of Oz (after the
     MGM lion’s third roar) to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon you’ll
     be in for quite a treat
     This scene in Before Sunrise is cinematic perfection.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!