»opulence{miles kane x alex turner}

p o r t e n t

hello, sorry for the long wait but i guess no one expects regularity out of me anyway lol (also i didn't proofread and it's shit sorry)

HOW COOL IS THE ILLUSTRATION?!

(massive thank you to the vv talented ToastedBuckwheat for the amazing drawings you've done for me, it's the coolest shit ever <3)

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It was a good job that Miles had called one of his chauffeurs to pick them up, because judging by his actions that followed simply getting out of the car, the man could barely stand up straight. He leaned against the re-windowed vehicle for any kind of support he could get, his dark eyes half-shut and the smallest of drunken smiles not leaving his face. There was no trace of the pitch-black gambler that Alex had spent the night with in him whatsoever, no threat-purring danger or enticing ambiguity. Miles was a hell of a lot more than tipsy, and significantly more than half-cut.

Alex was just as intoxicated, his eyes heavy-lidded and some dumb, drunken smile refusing to die on his face. The pair were stumbling down the gravel pathway, giggling in ridiculous high-pitched voices, Miles making loud noises of disbelief through his nose. The two men actually looked very complimentary when they walked together like that- Alex's shiny suit glimmering in the knifing shards of the moon that were bleeding through the trees and Miles' a contrasting dull; like a pair of shadows in the night. From an outside view- taken away from the opulent surroundings, they looked like any other pair of drunken friends who'd probably enjoyed the night rather too much. There was almost no wind and the sound of the motorway was muffled like a thick fog, so the din of the crunching gravel beneath stumbling feet was really the only indication- behind their maniacal giggling- that they were there at all.

"We've 'ad a proper nice night Al, 'aven't we?" Miles' voice was so horrendously slurred that it was barely even comprehensible, the words seeming to melt into one another. Alex had noticed, in a bleeding sort of way as the night progressed that Miles' accent was returning with gaining thickness with the more alcohol he consumed. It was strangely endearing, and the way that Alex was looking at Miles was beginning to steer away from professional.

"O' course we 'ave," Alex retorted with a haphazard sort of wink. He was mocking Miles, the thick and idiotic take on his accent clearly a joke hence the pathetic sort of grin on his face. For once, Miles laughed loudly at the piss-take- any trace of the man that any of his secretaries would expect of him entirely eradicated by this smirking, giggling replacement. It suited his sharp features better than the brooding quiet that they fell under usually.

With one sloppy, uncalculated movement, Miles slung an arm around Alex's shoulders. The skinny frame of the taller man was now weighing almost entirely on the second, though it was really not that noticeable. His chain-link bracelets were reflecting the light of the moon, dull and metallic, glinting back on their pale skin. That simple act of his arm against his shoulders, despite that they were both clad in expensive suits and shirts and there was nothing in the movement that Miles had meant to mean anything different, it seemed to burn right through Alex. He couldn't have put words to exactly why, nor articulate through his fog of intoxication- but he felt Miles' touch like a twisting in his gut, and the moment that he stole to compose himself was slightly too long.

Miles felt the shudder that drove through Alex, and stopped walking with a crunching halt. A light clicked on somewhere in the porch just as their eyes met for the barest flicker of a moment. That same muted, drunken and incomprehensible thrum shuddered between them, driving the last of whatever air was in Alex's lungs out of his slightly parted mouth into a slight mist that stained the black air for a lingering few seconds.