Happy Holidays, discothequeshiz!
Author: thebiggest_lie
Recipient: discothequeshiz
Title: Punch Drunk
Pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta
Word Count: 2977
Summary: Archie and Cook planned to have their first Christmas to themselves. Unfortunately for them, everything goes terribly wrong.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: We are in no way officially affiliated with David Cook, David Archuleta or their representation. Everything about them is completely fiction, and any similarity with reality is a mere coincidence. No copyright infringement is ever intended.
Warning(s): None.
Author's Notes: None.
It’s strange for Archie, voluntarily leaving his home two days before Christmas for somewhere else. He doesn’t have to record, put on any shows, or do any press. In fact, he made sure he had the week before Christmas off this year. He blushes a little, getting off the plane, his thoughts caught on the tone of Cook’s voice when he called him, asked him to please stay for Christmas. Archie couldn’t say no to that, not with the way Cook’s voice was all low and nice.
It’s supposed to be just them. It’s supposed to be a time away from the craziness of their lives. Which is why Archie is confused when he sees Andrew Cook grinning and waving beside his pissed off looking fiancé.
“Hi Archie!” Andrew practically shouts across the airport, and so much for anonymity.
“Hi guys,” Archie stutters out, dragging his luggage behind him, his stomach doing funny things. On one hand, Cook is right there, looking so good, and it’s been so long. And on the other hand, so is Andrew. “Hi, Cook,” Archie says when he gets closer, and as if suddenly deciding the presence of his brother doesn’t matter, Cook’s arms come around him, tight and comforting, just the way Archie remembers.
“I missed you,” he breathes into Archie’s neck, and Archie can only nod, knowing if he says a word his voice will sound all shaky and emotional like Cook’s.
“Sorry about jackass over there,” Cook says when he finally let’s go, pointing to his brother who is eyeing the baggage claim closely.
“Hey! I resent that! Did you want me to go all the way home for Christmas when I have a job to do?”
One look at Cook’s face and Archie knows the answer to that. Archie gives a smile to Cook, tries to let him know it’s okay, but Cook doesn’t seem to be paying attention, instead trying to get his brother to not do something stupid like climb on the conveyer belt.
Archie sees his bag, steps forward to grab it, and Andrew stops him with a hand to his chest. “Is that one yours? I’ll grab it little man. You go hang out with big head over there.”
Cook puts a hand around his shoulders, and directs a few choice words at his brother as they walk out. It isn’t exactly the holiday Archie imagined a year ago, or heck, even an hour ago, but he guesses they will just have to make the most of it.
----------
“Now that Andrew is here, I figured we could have a Christmas party or something. That all right with you Arch?”
“Sure.“ Archie slams the car door closed, and follows Cook up the drive to his house, dragging one of his suitcases behind him, while Cook has his carry ons. He’s been to Cook’s house a handful of times before, but never in the winter. It feels different somehow. There aren’t any kids playing out in the street like there were during the summer. The grass is yellowing, covered in a light layer of frost and the sky is filled with dark clouds. It doesn’t feel foreboding like it probably should. It feels like all the things Winter should be, and suddenly Archie’s mood lifts a little, imagining a warm fireplace and maybe some hot cocoa.
Inside, the house is deliciously warm, and as soon as he closes the door Cook is on him, their lips warming each other as they meet. Archie drops his suitcase, and winds his hands around Cook, shivering a little at how cold his jacket is beneath his fingertips, but soon Cook shrugs it off, pushing Archie’s away too.
“Missed you so much,” Cook says again, unwinding Archie’s scarf, placing feather light kisses against his neck, and this is how Archie thought it would be when they finally saw each other again. This, he remembers.
“Get a room!” They break apart, and see Andrew standing in the doorway to the kitchen, pointing at them both. It takes Archie a second to figure out how serious Andrew is, about as much time as it takes for all of the blood in his body to relocate to his face.
“Get a house!” Cook shouts back, and Andrew is laughing, walking back into the kitchen to leave them alone.
“I’m so sorry about this Archie. I know I said a holiday alone but…” Cook shrugs, picking up Archie’s stuff, and heading upstairs with it, the moment between them shattered.
“Oh, gosh, no! He’s your brother. Of course it’s okay,” Archie shakes his head, and now he feels bad for being annoyed with Andrew. After all, he’s family, he’s going to be his family soon, and it’s not like he and Cook won’t have a ton more Christmases to do with what they please. He decides then, to make this holiday the best it can be for all three of them.
-----------
Archie wakes up early the next morning, and his first instinct is to stay burrowed beneath the covers, wrapped in Cook’s arms. He indulges himself for a couple of minutes, concentrating on the rise and fall of Cook’s chest against his back, on the way his breath fans out against his neck, on the hand curled against his hip. Archie lets out a sigh, and slips out of bed, pulling on the pajamas that stayed on for a five whole minutes the night before. They had tried to be quiet, but just as Cook’s body was covering his own, Andrew had shouted something they couldn’t understand and blasted some awful music Archie had never heard of. It messed with the mood for sure, but that didn’t stop either one of them.
Archie heads downstairs, entering the kitchen and searching through the cupboards for anything he can make for breakfast. Finally he finds some pancake mix, and after checking the expiration date, sets to work, humming Christmas songs under his breath while he heats the stove and stirs with steady hands.
Just as the one side of the pancakes are starting to brown, Archie feels familiar arms around his waist, and a head leaning on his shoulder. His face breaks out in a grin that he couldn’t hold back if he tried.
“Mmmm smells good,” Cook says, kissing his check. “I guess I’ll forgive you for letting me wake up in an empty bed.”
Archie shrugs, putting down the spatula and turning in Cook’s arms. “I figured you’d be hungry, and I know you. Always cranky until you’ve eaten,” he pokes Cook’s belly, laughing a little when Cook gives him a hurt look. He’s gotten good at this teasing thing, and on picking up when Cook isn’t being completely serious.
“The two of you at it again? You would think you were newlyweds or something,” Andrew says when he walks into the room, sitting down heavily at the table. “Food smells great!”
“You better not be here when we’re newlyweds!” Cook says, his voice rising. He lets Archie go, slowly, as if reluctant to do so, and goes over to his brother, ruffling his hair.
Archie clears his throat, and goes back to the pancakes. “I made enough for everyone.”
------------
Things only get more hectic on the 23rd, the day of the Christmas party. Archie spends all morning making sure the house is clean, and properly decorated while Andrew and Cook go out to buy groceries, and make sure everything is set with the catering. The solitude feels nice after days of either Cook or Andrew constantly around him. It’s not like he doesn’t like them both, and in Cook’s case love him, but Archie has always been the kind of guy who needs time alone to clear his head. He cleans, the radio set to an all Christmas station, and he feels like it’s a great start to the day. But before Cook and Andrew are home, before he's finished setting up the refreshments, Andy, Neal, and Kyle arrive. Of course Archie knows them well enough by now, but he’s never been completely comfortable around Cook’s friends. Between his age, the fact that he doesn’t drink, and his general weirdness, he always gets the feeling that they just tolerated him for Cook’s sake.
Even so, Andy gives him a big hug when he comes in, Kyle doing the same. Neal just nods at him, and clasps his shoulder, uttering a single Merry Christmas before moving forward and heading straight for the liquor cabinet. Archie feels a little lost after that, and secretly prays that all of the other guests don’t show up early too.
“So, I heard Andrew crashed your perfect Christmas?” Andy grins, ruffling his hair, and Archie flinches a little. He hates when people play with his hair like he's a child, when he’s only a couple of days away from being legally able to drink; not that he would or anything.
“It turns out he had to work up here, and you know how he always stays with Cook when he does,” Archie shrugs, going back to organizing the table where all the food will shortly be placed.
“You’re a good kid Archie,” Andy says, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “If it were me, I would have told him to go find a hotel.”
Archie smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s family.”
“We’re back!” Cook announces, making his way into the kitchen along with a gust of wind. Archie pushes his hands further into his sweater, and puts his head down, trying to hide how much he’s grinning. It’s silly, he thinks, to be this happy about seeing someone who left left a little over an hour ago.
Cook puts down a bag of groceries, and kisses Archie once on the lips before turning around to greet his friends. It feels good to know that even though he’s known them for so long, even though they are the closest people in Cook’s life outside of his family, that he thinks of Archie first.
“So, my brother informs me I’ve been kind of an asshole the last couple of days,” Andrew says, pulling Archie out of his reverie.
Archie shakes his head vehemently, giving Andrew a confused look. “No, you haven’t!”
“I think I have,” Andrew disagrees with a wave of his hand. “I kind of forget sometimes that not everyone shares my ridiculous sense of humor. And that you guys probably wanted to spend your last Christmas before the wedding sans obnoxious brother.”
Archie shrugs. “Maybe we wanted to, but it hasn’t been bad. Watching Christmas movies wouldn’t have been half as fun without you and Cook’s commentary.”
Andrew looks at him for a minute, and Archie squirms a little, feeling uncomfortable underneath his watchful gaze, unsure of what he’s going to say. But then Andrew is hugging him, and Archie flails for a second before he can reciprocate, a warm feeling swelling in his chest. “I’m really happy you’re going to be my brother in law.”
“That’s…I…” Archie let’s out a deep breath, unsure of what to say, finally settling on, “Me too.” When Andrew pulls back he can see Cook in the middle of a conversation with Kyle, but his eyes are on them, and the look he sees there is almost enough to to bring tears to Archie's eyes. He pulls himself together and goes back to work, Andrew helping at his side.
------------
“Dude, it’s a party.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re not spiking the punch,” Cook laughs, taking a generous gulp of his beer. Neal is standing next to the large punch bowl, the punch Archie had spent twenty minutes making and perfecting, a bottle of Vodka in hand. The punch is pretty much the only thing on the table Archie can drink.
“You can mix a drink, like, in a cup if you want?” Archie offers, because yes, Neal is a guest, but it’s his punch.
“You win this time Archuleta,” Neal says before disappearing off with his bottle of vodka.
“Neal is weird,” Archie says, covering his mouth with his hand when he realizes he said it out loud.
Cook’s laugh rings out across the room, and he leans down, kissing Archie’s temple. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
They separate for a while, Cook heading to the kitchen with a pile of dishes, and Archie lost himself in conversation with Andy and one of their good friends from Tulsa. All of the nerves that had started the day with him start to dissipate, his cheeks heating up from the crowd of people, and his mood becoming more and more cheerful. When the conversation shifts to a movie Archie has never seen, he heads over to the table for a handful of pretzels and another cup of punch.
“How much of that have you had to drink?” Neal asks, as Archie fills his cup to the brim, drinking half of it before looking up at Neal. The bottle of vodka he had before is gone, and instead he now has a bottle of Whiskey. Archie wonders if Neal forgoes the cup out of ease or for show.
“Um, a couplea cups?” Archie says, his brow furrowing.
“You should probably slow down.” Neal takes the cup from him, his smirk turning into a frown.
“Did you…you didn’t.” Archie shakes his head, his mouth hanging open. Suddenly he identifies that warm feeling from the one time he accidentally drank from Cook’s glass during dinner. “Neal!”
“Sorry! Fuck, I didn’t think you’d be drinking it like a fish.”
Archie laughs then, not quite able to work up being annoyed at Neal. “My fault. I should’ve known.” He feels hot all over, and maybe just a little dizzy, but otherwise really good. The only thought on his mind is getting to Cook.
“Cook!” Archie exclaims when he finally sees him, attaching himself to Cook instantly.
“What did you do to my boyfriend?” Cook asks Neal, a warning in his voice.
Neal doesn’t say anything, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Don’t yell at him. Totally my fault. I drank the punch,” Archie says against Cook’s neck.
Cook sighs, putting his arm around Archie. “Come on, let’s get you to bed before you fall down.”
“But, I feel fine!” Archie protests, resisting Cook. “I want to stay and hang out.”
“You sure?”
Archie nods, giving Cook a kiss, and then another one, and another one, until his hands are buried in Cook’s hair and he feels out of breath.
“Or maybe we could go to the bedroom, together?” Cook’s eyes are dark, and he’s giving Archie that look that always makes his throat go dry.
Archie bites his lip, nodding vigorously. “Or that.”
There are a couple of wolf whistles as they dash off to the bedroom, but Archie can’t bring himself to care. As soon as the bedroom door is closed, he pulls off his sweater and goes back to kissing Cook. A moan escapes Archie’s lips as he backs Cook onto the bed, falling down on top of him.
“Fuck,” Cook gasps out. “If I had known drinking made you like this, I would have spiked your drinks ages ago.”
“Shut up Cook. Don’t ruin it,” Archie says, between kisses on his neck, his hands working at Cook’s belt buckle.
Archie makes a frustrated sound when he can't seem to make it work, his hands feeling way more fumbly than usual. “Dang it!”
“Let me,” Cook says and after that it goes faster, both of them shedding clothing quickly, Archie straddling Cook‘s waist, sucking on his neck, pulling all too familiar sounds from him as he works his way down.
Neither care that there is a party going on downstairs, that they probably forgot to lock the door in their haste. Right then, it’s just them. Archie digs his nails, into Cook’s back when Cook enters him, slow at first and then speeding up when Archie begs him to. He can’t stop himself from pushing back into it, from leaning up to capture Cook’s mouth in between thrusts. It’s slow, and deep, and so good Archie has to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming when he comes.
“Damn,” Cook says, falling beside him when he finishes, still gasping for air. Archie turns over, catching his breath against Cook’s chest, waits for his head to stop spinning.
“We should probably go back out there at some point tonight,” Cook reasons. Archie squints at the clock, sees it’s still early, but can’t quite bring himself to move. He’s a little drunk, and a little exhausted, and right now is the best he has felt in weeks.
“Let’s just stay for a bit, okay, Cook?”
Archie can feel Cook smile against his head, running his fingers through the sweaty strands. “Hey, you put up with my brother and my friends, and everything else this week. I think I can do that much for you.”
They stay that way until Archie is feeling more like himself, and the guilt of abandoning their guests settles in. They’re teased for the rest of the night, words being thrown around that Archie has never heard at a Christmas party in all his life. Archie snaps back a couple of times, Neal giving him a high five when Andy exclaims Archie the winner on that round.
When the party ends, and everyone clears the house, Andrew helps a very drunk Neal to his room, and it’s just Cook and Archie standing in the living room. They make eye contact, only breaking it when there is a loud crash from upstairs followed by Andrew cursing up a storm. It’s not the kind of Christmas Archie imagined, it’s not like any he’s ever had before, but he thinks, right then, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Recipient: discothequeshiz
Title: Punch Drunk
Pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta
Word Count: 2977
Summary: Archie and Cook planned to have their first Christmas to themselves. Unfortunately for them, everything goes terribly wrong.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: We are in no way officially affiliated with David Cook, David Archuleta or their representation. Everything about them is completely fiction, and any similarity with reality is a mere coincidence. No copyright infringement is ever intended.
Warning(s): None.
Author's Notes: None.
It’s strange for Archie, voluntarily leaving his home two days before Christmas for somewhere else. He doesn’t have to record, put on any shows, or do any press. In fact, he made sure he had the week before Christmas off this year. He blushes a little, getting off the plane, his thoughts caught on the tone of Cook’s voice when he called him, asked him to please stay for Christmas. Archie couldn’t say no to that, not with the way Cook’s voice was all low and nice.
It’s supposed to be just them. It’s supposed to be a time away from the craziness of their lives. Which is why Archie is confused when he sees Andrew Cook grinning and waving beside his pissed off looking fiancé.
“Hi Archie!” Andrew practically shouts across the airport, and so much for anonymity.
“Hi guys,” Archie stutters out, dragging his luggage behind him, his stomach doing funny things. On one hand, Cook is right there, looking so good, and it’s been so long. And on the other hand, so is Andrew. “Hi, Cook,” Archie says when he gets closer, and as if suddenly deciding the presence of his brother doesn’t matter, Cook’s arms come around him, tight and comforting, just the way Archie remembers.
“I missed you,” he breathes into Archie’s neck, and Archie can only nod, knowing if he says a word his voice will sound all shaky and emotional like Cook’s.
“Sorry about jackass over there,” Cook says when he finally let’s go, pointing to his brother who is eyeing the baggage claim closely.
“Hey! I resent that! Did you want me to go all the way home for Christmas when I have a job to do?”
One look at Cook’s face and Archie knows the answer to that. Archie gives a smile to Cook, tries to let him know it’s okay, but Cook doesn’t seem to be paying attention, instead trying to get his brother to not do something stupid like climb on the conveyer belt.
Archie sees his bag, steps forward to grab it, and Andrew stops him with a hand to his chest. “Is that one yours? I’ll grab it little man. You go hang out with big head over there.”
Cook puts a hand around his shoulders, and directs a few choice words at his brother as they walk out. It isn’t exactly the holiday Archie imagined a year ago, or heck, even an hour ago, but he guesses they will just have to make the most of it.
----------
“Now that Andrew is here, I figured we could have a Christmas party or something. That all right with you Arch?”
“Sure.“ Archie slams the car door closed, and follows Cook up the drive to his house, dragging one of his suitcases behind him, while Cook has his carry ons. He’s been to Cook’s house a handful of times before, but never in the winter. It feels different somehow. There aren’t any kids playing out in the street like there were during the summer. The grass is yellowing, covered in a light layer of frost and the sky is filled with dark clouds. It doesn’t feel foreboding like it probably should. It feels like all the things Winter should be, and suddenly Archie’s mood lifts a little, imagining a warm fireplace and maybe some hot cocoa.
Inside, the house is deliciously warm, and as soon as he closes the door Cook is on him, their lips warming each other as they meet. Archie drops his suitcase, and winds his hands around Cook, shivering a little at how cold his jacket is beneath his fingertips, but soon Cook shrugs it off, pushing Archie’s away too.
“Missed you so much,” Cook says again, unwinding Archie’s scarf, placing feather light kisses against his neck, and this is how Archie thought it would be when they finally saw each other again. This, he remembers.
“Get a room!” They break apart, and see Andrew standing in the doorway to the kitchen, pointing at them both. It takes Archie a second to figure out how serious Andrew is, about as much time as it takes for all of the blood in his body to relocate to his face.
“Get a house!” Cook shouts back, and Andrew is laughing, walking back into the kitchen to leave them alone.
“I’m so sorry about this Archie. I know I said a holiday alone but…” Cook shrugs, picking up Archie’s stuff, and heading upstairs with it, the moment between them shattered.
“Oh, gosh, no! He’s your brother. Of course it’s okay,” Archie shakes his head, and now he feels bad for being annoyed with Andrew. After all, he’s family, he’s going to be his family soon, and it’s not like he and Cook won’t have a ton more Christmases to do with what they please. He decides then, to make this holiday the best it can be for all three of them.
-----------
Archie wakes up early the next morning, and his first instinct is to stay burrowed beneath the covers, wrapped in Cook’s arms. He indulges himself for a couple of minutes, concentrating on the rise and fall of Cook’s chest against his back, on the way his breath fans out against his neck, on the hand curled against his hip. Archie lets out a sigh, and slips out of bed, pulling on the pajamas that stayed on for a five whole minutes the night before. They had tried to be quiet, but just as Cook’s body was covering his own, Andrew had shouted something they couldn’t understand and blasted some awful music Archie had never heard of. It messed with the mood for sure, but that didn’t stop either one of them.
Archie heads downstairs, entering the kitchen and searching through the cupboards for anything he can make for breakfast. Finally he finds some pancake mix, and after checking the expiration date, sets to work, humming Christmas songs under his breath while he heats the stove and stirs with steady hands.
Just as the one side of the pancakes are starting to brown, Archie feels familiar arms around his waist, and a head leaning on his shoulder. His face breaks out in a grin that he couldn’t hold back if he tried.
“Mmmm smells good,” Cook says, kissing his check. “I guess I’ll forgive you for letting me wake up in an empty bed.”
Archie shrugs, putting down the spatula and turning in Cook’s arms. “I figured you’d be hungry, and I know you. Always cranky until you’ve eaten,” he pokes Cook’s belly, laughing a little when Cook gives him a hurt look. He’s gotten good at this teasing thing, and on picking up when Cook isn’t being completely serious.
“The two of you at it again? You would think you were newlyweds or something,” Andrew says when he walks into the room, sitting down heavily at the table. “Food smells great!”
“You better not be here when we’re newlyweds!” Cook says, his voice rising. He lets Archie go, slowly, as if reluctant to do so, and goes over to his brother, ruffling his hair.
Archie clears his throat, and goes back to the pancakes. “I made enough for everyone.”
------------
Things only get more hectic on the 23rd, the day of the Christmas party. Archie spends all morning making sure the house is clean, and properly decorated while Andrew and Cook go out to buy groceries, and make sure everything is set with the catering. The solitude feels nice after days of either Cook or Andrew constantly around him. It’s not like he doesn’t like them both, and in Cook’s case love him, but Archie has always been the kind of guy who needs time alone to clear his head. He cleans, the radio set to an all Christmas station, and he feels like it’s a great start to the day. But before Cook and Andrew are home, before he's finished setting up the refreshments, Andy, Neal, and Kyle arrive. Of course Archie knows them well enough by now, but he’s never been completely comfortable around Cook’s friends. Between his age, the fact that he doesn’t drink, and his general weirdness, he always gets the feeling that they just tolerated him for Cook’s sake.
Even so, Andy gives him a big hug when he comes in, Kyle doing the same. Neal just nods at him, and clasps his shoulder, uttering a single Merry Christmas before moving forward and heading straight for the liquor cabinet. Archie feels a little lost after that, and secretly prays that all of the other guests don’t show up early too.
“So, I heard Andrew crashed your perfect Christmas?” Andy grins, ruffling his hair, and Archie flinches a little. He hates when people play with his hair like he's a child, when he’s only a couple of days away from being legally able to drink; not that he would or anything.
“It turns out he had to work up here, and you know how he always stays with Cook when he does,” Archie shrugs, going back to organizing the table where all the food will shortly be placed.
“You’re a good kid Archie,” Andy says, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. “If it were me, I would have told him to go find a hotel.”
Archie smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s family.”
“We’re back!” Cook announces, making his way into the kitchen along with a gust of wind. Archie pushes his hands further into his sweater, and puts his head down, trying to hide how much he’s grinning. It’s silly, he thinks, to be this happy about seeing someone who left left a little over an hour ago.
Cook puts down a bag of groceries, and kisses Archie once on the lips before turning around to greet his friends. It feels good to know that even though he’s known them for so long, even though they are the closest people in Cook’s life outside of his family, that he thinks of Archie first.
“So, my brother informs me I’ve been kind of an asshole the last couple of days,” Andrew says, pulling Archie out of his reverie.
Archie shakes his head vehemently, giving Andrew a confused look. “No, you haven’t!”
“I think I have,” Andrew disagrees with a wave of his hand. “I kind of forget sometimes that not everyone shares my ridiculous sense of humor. And that you guys probably wanted to spend your last Christmas before the wedding sans obnoxious brother.”
Archie shrugs. “Maybe we wanted to, but it hasn’t been bad. Watching Christmas movies wouldn’t have been half as fun without you and Cook’s commentary.”
Andrew looks at him for a minute, and Archie squirms a little, feeling uncomfortable underneath his watchful gaze, unsure of what he’s going to say. But then Andrew is hugging him, and Archie flails for a second before he can reciprocate, a warm feeling swelling in his chest. “I’m really happy you’re going to be my brother in law.”
“That’s…I…” Archie let’s out a deep breath, unsure of what to say, finally settling on, “Me too.” When Andrew pulls back he can see Cook in the middle of a conversation with Kyle, but his eyes are on them, and the look he sees there is almost enough to to bring tears to Archie's eyes. He pulls himself together and goes back to work, Andrew helping at his side.
------------
“Dude, it’s a party.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re not spiking the punch,” Cook laughs, taking a generous gulp of his beer. Neal is standing next to the large punch bowl, the punch Archie had spent twenty minutes making and perfecting, a bottle of Vodka in hand. The punch is pretty much the only thing on the table Archie can drink.
“You can mix a drink, like, in a cup if you want?” Archie offers, because yes, Neal is a guest, but it’s his punch.
“You win this time Archuleta,” Neal says before disappearing off with his bottle of vodka.
“Neal is weird,” Archie says, covering his mouth with his hand when he realizes he said it out loud.
Cook’s laugh rings out across the room, and he leans down, kissing Archie’s temple. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
They separate for a while, Cook heading to the kitchen with a pile of dishes, and Archie lost himself in conversation with Andy and one of their good friends from Tulsa. All of the nerves that had started the day with him start to dissipate, his cheeks heating up from the crowd of people, and his mood becoming more and more cheerful. When the conversation shifts to a movie Archie has never seen, he heads over to the table for a handful of pretzels and another cup of punch.
“How much of that have you had to drink?” Neal asks, as Archie fills his cup to the brim, drinking half of it before looking up at Neal. The bottle of vodka he had before is gone, and instead he now has a bottle of Whiskey. Archie wonders if Neal forgoes the cup out of ease or for show.
“Um, a couplea cups?” Archie says, his brow furrowing.
“You should probably slow down.” Neal takes the cup from him, his smirk turning into a frown.
“Did you…you didn’t.” Archie shakes his head, his mouth hanging open. Suddenly he identifies that warm feeling from the one time he accidentally drank from Cook’s glass during dinner. “Neal!”
“Sorry! Fuck, I didn’t think you’d be drinking it like a fish.”
Archie laughs then, not quite able to work up being annoyed at Neal. “My fault. I should’ve known.” He feels hot all over, and maybe just a little dizzy, but otherwise really good. The only thought on his mind is getting to Cook.
“Cook!” Archie exclaims when he finally sees him, attaching himself to Cook instantly.
“What did you do to my boyfriend?” Cook asks Neal, a warning in his voice.
Neal doesn’t say anything, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Don’t yell at him. Totally my fault. I drank the punch,” Archie says against Cook’s neck.
Cook sighs, putting his arm around Archie. “Come on, let’s get you to bed before you fall down.”
“But, I feel fine!” Archie protests, resisting Cook. “I want to stay and hang out.”
“You sure?”
Archie nods, giving Cook a kiss, and then another one, and another one, until his hands are buried in Cook’s hair and he feels out of breath.
“Or maybe we could go to the bedroom, together?” Cook’s eyes are dark, and he’s giving Archie that look that always makes his throat go dry.
Archie bites his lip, nodding vigorously. “Or that.”
There are a couple of wolf whistles as they dash off to the bedroom, but Archie can’t bring himself to care. As soon as the bedroom door is closed, he pulls off his sweater and goes back to kissing Cook. A moan escapes Archie’s lips as he backs Cook onto the bed, falling down on top of him.
“Fuck,” Cook gasps out. “If I had known drinking made you like this, I would have spiked your drinks ages ago.”
“Shut up Cook. Don’t ruin it,” Archie says, between kisses on his neck, his hands working at Cook’s belt buckle.
Archie makes a frustrated sound when he can't seem to make it work, his hands feeling way more fumbly than usual. “Dang it!”
“Let me,” Cook says and after that it goes faster, both of them shedding clothing quickly, Archie straddling Cook‘s waist, sucking on his neck, pulling all too familiar sounds from him as he works his way down.
Neither care that there is a party going on downstairs, that they probably forgot to lock the door in their haste. Right then, it’s just them. Archie digs his nails, into Cook’s back when Cook enters him, slow at first and then speeding up when Archie begs him to. He can’t stop himself from pushing back into it, from leaning up to capture Cook’s mouth in between thrusts. It’s slow, and deep, and so good Archie has to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming when he comes.
“Damn,” Cook says, falling beside him when he finishes, still gasping for air. Archie turns over, catching his breath against Cook’s chest, waits for his head to stop spinning.
“We should probably go back out there at some point tonight,” Cook reasons. Archie squints at the clock, sees it’s still early, but can’t quite bring himself to move. He’s a little drunk, and a little exhausted, and right now is the best he has felt in weeks.
“Let’s just stay for a bit, okay, Cook?”
Archie can feel Cook smile against his head, running his fingers through the sweaty strands. “Hey, you put up with my brother and my friends, and everything else this week. I think I can do that much for you.”
They stay that way until Archie is feeling more like himself, and the guilt of abandoning their guests settles in. They’re teased for the rest of the night, words being thrown around that Archie has never heard at a Christmas party in all his life. Archie snaps back a couple of times, Neal giving him a high five when Andy exclaims Archie the winner on that round.
When the party ends, and everyone clears the house, Andrew helps a very drunk Neal to his room, and it’s just Cook and Archie standing in the living room. They make eye contact, only breaking it when there is a loud crash from upstairs followed by Andrew cursing up a storm. It’s not the kind of Christmas Archie imagined, it’s not like any he’s ever had before, but he thinks, right then, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.