Cookleta -- flashfic set this year or later, picking up on either Cook’s interview comments about Archie ("are you protective of Archie?" "No -- he's protective of me") or his reported drunken ramblings about how much he misses Archie.
No need to have the interview/drunkenness actually in the fic; I'm just after either protective!Archie or Cook missing him.
Post by writerndisguise on Sept 7, 2009 21:19:59 GMT -5
Um, ok, this turned out a bit longer than I intended, and I'm not quite sure that it completely fits your prompt. Maybe its a little of both, sort of? idk, but here ya go:
“You know, all that drinking really isn’t good for you,” Archie commented dryly, knowing it wouldn’t make much difference. Cook just raised the glass to his lips again and took another long draught from it.
“What do you thinks gonna happens, Arch?” Cook asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m not going to go out and do anything stupid. You and Carly won’t let me do that, will you?”
“Well, I won’t,” Archie said, sighing, then smiled a bit and gestured to Carly who’d passed out on Cook’s couch about an hour ago. Not that he was surprised at all. This was, after all, how their Friday-night movie-nights usually went. “But she’s not in any position to stop you.”
Cook just shrugged, “Besides, I’m always in complete control of my actions after I drink. Everything I do when I’m drunk is done completely on purpose with my full knowledge,” he said firmly.
“So you fully intended to go around and ramble to the fans about missing me that one night?” Archie asked with an amused smile. “You should’ve seen my twitter account the next day. I had so many messages and comments, I swear, I thought someone had died and my fans were trying to see who could tell me first.”
“That time doesn’t count,” Cook said, shaking his head a bit more enthusiastically than was really necessary.
“Why not?” Archie asked, his smile fading slightly. He told himself firmly that the reason wasn’t his disappointment in Cook not really missing him.
“Cause,” Cook said, as though that proved everything. When Archie raised his eyebrows, he continued, sighing as though he really didn’t think it needed explaining. “I don’t remember that night. Not a thing. So it doesn’t count.” Archie stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “What’s so funny?” Cook asked indignantly as Archie fell sideways from where he was leaning against the couch Carly was on, still sleeping soundly. Archie just shook his head, tears prickling in his eyes. Cook leaned forward on his hands and knees and poked Archie in the shoulder, glaring at him. “Tell me what’s so damn funny about that!”
“Because that totally proves my point,” Archie said, still shaking with silent laughter as he sat up and leaned back against the couch, eyes flicking to the side to make sure Carly hadn’t woken up. She hadn’t even moved. He grinned at Cook, “If you can’t even remember what you did, then you could’ve done something stupid and you wouldn’t even know it.”
“I knew it then,” Cook protested, though Archie could still see the hint of a smile on his lips. “And I know I wouldn’t do anything stupid, even if I don’t remember it now.”
“Well drinking enough that you don’t remember now is stupid,” Archie pointed out.
“No, the only thing stupid about it was not thinking about the massive hangover I would have the next morning,” Cook said with a laugh, reaching for his glass again.
Archie quickly dove forward and grabbed the glass, pulling it out of Cook’s reach. “What the hell, Archie?” Cook asked in disbelief, holding his hand out for the glass.
Archie just shook his head, “No, you’re not getting any more of this tonight,” he said firmly. “You have an interview in the morning, and I’m not letting you go in there with another hangover like that one. You called me and complained about it for an hour the next morning, in case you’ve forgotten that part, too,” he added teasingly.
Cook just rolled his eyes and sat back, “Yes, mom,” he said mockingly, eyes narrowed at Archie.
“Don’t make fun of me,” Archie said, frowning, “I’m just trying to look out for you. Do you know how mad the label would be if you went to that interview with a hangover?”
Cook laughed louder than he normally would because of the alcohol, shaking his head, “You’re like almost a decade younger than me. Shouldn’t I be telling you this stuff?”
“No,” Archie said, completely serious as he set the drink on the table beside the couch, “I’m not old enough to drink yet.”
“Never stopped me,” Cook said, laughing harder.
“Oh my gosh, Cook, that’s terrible!” Archie cried, arms flailing.
“Not really,” Cook said, doing jazz hands just to make fun of the younger boy.
Archie narrowed his eyes at him, “Well it doesn’t matter,” he said resolutely. “You’re not getting that poison back tonight.”
“The hell I’m not,” Cook mumbled before launching himself at Archie. Archie made a high-pitched half-squeak, half-scream and threw his arms over his head, landing on the floor on his back with a muffled ‘thud.’ He groaned at the pain in his stomach, the sudden weight on his body slightly disconcerting, though not uncomfortable.
Archie opened his eyes and winced at the smell of alcohol on Cook’s breath. “That was unnecessary,” he wheezed, glaring half-heartedly at Cook.
“Says you,” Cook said triumphantly, and Archie had to hold his breath for a moment until the initial burst of alcohol-laden air passed.
Still trying to catch his breath from the impact, it took Archie several moments to realize two things: first, Cook hadn’t moved. Why hadn’t he moved? And second, Cook was staring at him, like….lustfully…but that was, completely not possible. Cause Archie was totally imagining it. Cause Cook wasn’t looking at him like that. Cause Cook wasn’t gay. Cause Cook was-- kissing him.
Archie froze in shock, and against his better judgment, pushed Cook back just a bit so he could look him in the eyes. “Cook, you’re drunk,” he muttered.
Cook just grinned at him, “Archie, already told you. I always know what I’m doing when I’m drunk.”
The reasoning, though shallow as it was, was enough for Archie, and he kissed Cook back with fervor that time.
A bright rays of sunlight from the window woke Archie, making him wish he’d thought to close them the night before. Squinting against the light, Archie smiled at Cook’s face, eyes closed and his mouth open slightly. Cook had rolled them over in the middle of the night, so now Archie was lying almost completely on his chest.
Glancing sideways, Archie smiled to see the still-half-full glass beside Cook’s head untouched since last night. Keeping Cook from getting unbearably drunk hadn’t been too hard. He just needed a…distraction. Archie blushed slightly at the thought, but shook it off when he remembered that Cook had been slightly drunk last night. Even if Cook knew exactly what he was doing when he’d made out with Archie for half an hour, what if he didn’t remember it?
He hadn’t remember telling the fans that he missed Archie that night either. Maybe he should try and get up before Cook woke up. Granted, Cook’s arm was wound so tightly around his waist he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to move, much less free himself.
Before he’d finished contemplating his dilemma, Cook’s eyes opened and he froze. “Hey,” he said slowly.
“Hey,” Cook said, his voice low and gravelly from sleep. Without preamble, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against Archie’s lips.
Archie smiled when they pulled apart, “So you remember?”
Cook smiled at him, “Archie, I never forget anything, even when I’m drunk.”
Furrowing his brow in confusion, Archie rested his chin on Cook’s chest, “But, you said you didn’t remember saying-” his voice cut off and he leaned up on his elbows, glaring at Cook, “You remembered, didn’t you?”
Laughing, Cook just nodded at him, “Sure did. Every minute of it. I remember every single time that I told the fans I missed you.”
“Then why’d you say you didn’t?” Archie asked, putting on his best puppy-dog pout.
“Don’t look at me like that, Archie,” Cook groaned, closing his eyes hard. He finally opened them again and Archie just watched him carefully, waiting for his answer. “It just seemed easier to avoid the whole thing. And not remembering cause of the alcohol was the easiest excuse.”
Archie nodded, then grinned and leaned closer to him, “Well, you know you can never use that excuse again, right?”
Cook’s groan of annoyance became a moan of surprise and pleasure when Archie claimed the older man’s lips with his own again. He almost didn’t hear the gasp of surprise form behind him, but broke apart and looked up at Carly, who was staring at them wide-eyed from her place on the couch. She looked back and forth between them for a few moment before speaking, “Um, did I miss something?”