Gathering: Summer Party

[concierge]

Outside of the Nexus Hotel, waiters and hotel staff had begun to set up the umbrellas and the tables in the middle of the day. Soon, it became clear that something was happening in the shadow of the Nexus. White tablecloths were draped on the tables and drinks and food were brought out with the help of several waiters and servers, staffing tables with hot and cold foods beside bartending stations. Summery drinks in bright, neon colors are laid out one by one and soon, the afternoon light casts a radiant look on the scene.

Music plays faintly in the background and a note at the front desk invites all the Nexus guests to head outside and join in on the summer party, which promises to continue going as long as there are people to stay and continue keeping the warm atmosphere rolling.

On the lawn, social games had been set out -- lawn bowling, croquet, and tables were set up with chairs for anyone who didn't quite have the will or the spirit to get into such games. Soon, a small number of people had begun to mill around, but as with all parties, there's always room for more.

Comments

[weighted_reality]

Arthur's smile is the barest lifting of the corner of his mouth, letting Eames laugh out his relief. "I like to keep you on your toes."

[seeorseem]

Eames lifts onto his toes as if to show that he's perfectly there. "Mission accomplished," he says, reaching out for another drink since he does really need them to cope with the garden party. "Honestly, this is all so dreadful. I keep expecting a sea of white clothing."

[weighted_reality]

"If I see so much as a white hat, I'll give the signal." His voice is so perfectly flat that Eames could take Arthur's joke for seriousness again. "Go running into the woods at full speed."

[seeorseem]

Eames presses his hand flat against the small of Arthur's back as he feels himself settle in, still a bit odd for thinking of Arthur mentally as his boyfriend, but pleased to have him at his side for events like this. "That means you earn a drink," Eames says. "Anything you like, darling, I'm buying."

[weighted_reality]

"I'll try not to choose anything too genteel for you," Arthur promises. He adjusts his posture to accommodate Eames' (his boyfriend's?) hand.

[seeorseem]

Eames tugs Arthur in closer by the hand, sliding that hand around his hip to grope his arse just the once, just because he can, and he flashes him a bright grin. "Ask me what my favourite part of my family's summer parties were," he encourages.

[weighted_reality]

For once feeling more flirtatious than irritated, Arthur merely leans back and then delicately adjusts Eames' arm so that his hand is on the small of Arthur's back instead.

"Should I be afraid of the answer?"

[seeorseem]

Pressing his luck, Eames turns to brush a kiss over Arthur's lips, grinning as he nods in the direction of the rooms. "Without doubt, sneaking out to fool around was, bar none, the very best part of these parties."

[weighted_reality]

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him, suggesting that he thinks Eames' gesture is the very worst sort of impropriety.

"Are you suggesting I'm the type to fool around?" he teases.

[seeorseem]

"In a private room lavished with properly matching colours and suitable artwork, absolutely," Eames growls with a devilish smirk on his lips, thinking that he would be happy to hang as many paintings as he needs, if only to keep Arthur pleased and willing.

[weighted_reality]

"Are you so sure about that?" It's rhetorical. Eames is always sure of what he says, whether or not facts get in the way.

"Maybe my tastes have changed. And maybe I'm too busy contemplating aspirational social climbing at the moment."

[seeorseem]

"My god, you'll be an Eames yet," he scoffs, but there's hints of pleasure in the way his lips curve upwards. He shakes his head, thinking that there must be something about this that ought to scare him, but he can't put his finger upon it. "Tell me," he says. "how shall I distract you from such lofty goals?"

[weighted_reality]

"I hope that's not how you plan to propose, should we come to that," Arthur says. Though he's extracted himself from Eames' grip, his hands swing a little, free and inviting.

"You'll think of something. You always do."