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Tweak says, "Excuse me. Cheesecake yes?"

Eames (dream_bigger) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-01-26 12:30:00

Entry tags:

eames, sirius black

WHO: Eames and Sirius
WHAT: Drinking
WHEN: Lunchtime onwards, January 26th
WHERE: A pub
RATING: Standard Eames&Sirius rating goes here, with added manpain.
STATUS: In Progress

Eames shut his phone off and left it in Morpheus' flat, then left as quietly as he could. He paused outside Finn's flat, but then shook himself and kept walking. He was gearing up for dropping off-grid, he didn't need everyone to know the exact details. He was fine with Sirius accompanying him for this part, since he'd done it the last time Arthur had left him so he'd know what to expect. Then tomorrow, he'd do his best to die of a hangover somewhere out of the way, and if that didn't take, he'd vanish for a week to get his head clear and to be someone who had no ties whatsoever with one Daniel Eames, permanent fucking idiot when it came to Arthur Rossi.

Musing over possible new identities, he walked as quickly as he could to the pub he'd told Sirius about. He kept his head down and his shoulders hunched, smoked constantly and acknowledged nobody. He didn't actually know if Sirius would be joining him, so he didn't bother waiting outside for the other man, he just stubbed out his cigarette on the wall of the building and went on in. Sitting at the bar, right at the back of the pub with his eye on the door, he picked a scotch and handed the barman enough money to keep the drink coming.

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pad_foot
2012-01-27 10:54 pm UTC (link)

Sirius slid the new glass towards him but didn't touch it yet, preferring to spin the pint glass between his fingers for amoment. He was still processing the bit of Ariadne news. How long had she been here? Had there been a time when she hadn't been here? For some reason, that idea shook him more than most. Perhaps because she and Eames been such a constant while everyone else seemed to chop and change and... bloody hell.

He lifted his pint again, placing the cold glass back down and drawing the back of his hand over his lips as he turned to look at him. Fucking hell. What about Arthur?

"What's he decided?" Sirius eventually pushed. He could probably guess, but he wanted to make sure he hadn't got completely the wrong end of the stick. Sirius reached out and hesitantly placed a hand on Eames' shoulder. He wasn't very good at this stuff. "Eames? What's happened?"

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	dream_bigger 2012-01-28 12:01 am UTC (link)
	Eames didn't answer straight away. He scrubbed at his face after a minute, and then pinned his drink. Dutch courage or something. "He's moved out." He spoke quickly, looking at the empty glass in his hand instead of at Sirius. It was easier that way. "Ariadne's gone, and Arthur has... Arthur has left. Left m-me." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

pad_foot
2012-01-28 05:35 pm UTC (link)

Sirius' hand slid off Eames shoulder, and he blinked at his friend's profile. Fucking hell. What could he say? Actually, that seemed as good a response as any.

"Fucking hell."

He turned to stare at his own pint. What the hell was going on? Were things allowed to go down the shitter than quickly? Without a word, Sirius reached out for his own stronger drink, threw it back, and the grabbed the bottle and poured a generous helping into Eames' glass before helping himself. If anything called for getting someone completely bladdered, this was it.

He was angry with Arthur, he realised. What the hell was the bloke thinking? And perhaps that wasn't fair but he was Eames' friend first and... bloody fucking hell. Sirius swallowed down the need to mouth off about Arthur to Eames, who he guessed wouldn't want to hear it. He could save that for whenever he got back home. Sirius rubbed irritably at the bridge of his nose, frowning as he tried to get a grasp of the situation and think of something to say that wasn't 'fucking hell'.

"What're we gonna do?"

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dream_bigger
2012-01-29 01:54 pm UTC (link)

"I... don't know. I don't know what to do." Eames grabbed the refilled glass and drank a mouthful, wishing that the burn in his throat would do something to help him work out what to do, but nothing happened. "I could drink until I go blind. That's an idea." He finished his glass after that. Five shots of Scotch in as many minutes. He was well on his way, it'd seem.

He couldn't look at Sirius. Not yet. Scrubbing at his face yet again, he wiped away the tears that had managed to escape and did his best to get them under control. Fuck, he shouldn't have done this, he was a mess and he shouldn't have gone out in public. "I need a cigarette," he said abruptly and pushed away from the bar, heading outside without even checking if Sirius was going to follow. He ignored the designated smoking area since there were other people there already, and found himself in the alley behind the bar, surrounded by dumpsters full of empties and rubbish nobody wanted. Fitting. He got his cigarettes and lighter out and did his best to light up, but his hands would not stop shaking. Jesus, he really was a mess.

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pad_foot
2012-01-29 06:57 pm UTC (link)

Sirius wasn't good with tears. Hell, he felt completely lost when Luke started to cry. Once Eames had pushed himself to his feet, the Wizard gave him a few minutes to himself, finishing off his pint and handing the bottle back to the barman before following. After all, even if he had decided to wander off, he wouldn't be hard to find. He'd just follow the scotch scent.

Sirius passed the public smoking area, giving it a quick look over before moving on, eventually finding himself at the entrance to the alley that stretched out and behind the bar. Eames was there, half hidden in the gloom created by the buildings looming on either side, a cigarette in his hand. Sirius sighed, shook his hair back, and walked up to him.

"Here." He took the cigarette and lit it with a silent charm before passing it back, reaching into his own pocket to pull out one of his own. He lit that as well, and slouched back against the wall to take a deep drag. "I am sorry, mate," he finally allowed himself to say. "I know it makes fuck all difference, but still..." He tapped some ash onto the dirty concrete floor. "Best I can think of to do is get completely hammered, have a fight with some bouncers, and then try not to choke on our own puke."

Because that was the responsible way to deal with heartbreak. Still, it was all he could think of. And if it was him, that was what he'd want to do.

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