fic dump (again!) 6 fics, jeez. (part one)
Archie waits impatiently in the terminal, cap low over his eyes and even his gray hood is up for extra measure. He looks at the arrivals sign for the hundredth time in the past twenty seconds, eyes boring holes into the part of the screen which says Flight 282 from ETH to LAX. Departure time: 8:27 AM 3/23/10 local time, Arrival time: 5:49 PM 3/24/10. Archie looked at his watch, which displayed the red numbers 5:24 back into his disappointed face. All right, three minutes. I can get through this.
Wrong.
Funny how when you're waiting for something awesome to happen, time passes to slow. Then when you're trying to put off a bad situation, it comes faster than you expect.
Funny how the world works.
He looked at his watch again; a whole two minutes had passed while he was doing his thinking. That's a step in the right direction. Suddenly, a voice crackled to life on the loud speaker.
"Flight 282 from Ethiopia to Los Angeles is now landing."
Archie stood up, this is it, and waited for the gate to open. No less than a minute later the doors to gate twenty four were opened and out came a stream of people, exhausted from the eighteen hour trip. But also he saw that familiar white beanie over the crowd, and his heart might have skipped a beat. The owner of the beanie saw his face and smiled immediately, and with new found energy rushed over to Archie, picking him off the ground and spinning him in a circle. Archie giggled, face pressed into his neck.
"Missed you so much," He said into the skin when Cook put him down.
"Missed you too," Cook responded, making Archie meet his eyes. He looked around and placed a chaste kiss upon his lips. He pulled back and his expression softened.
"Don't cry, baby, I'm here now," Cook said, running his thumbs over his cheeks. Archie didn't even realize it until he felt his face getting wet.
"I'm just happy, okay?" He sniffled, digging his face into Cook's chest, taking a breath in and only smelling him, and sighed contentedly.
"Welcome home, Cook."
Numero Dos.
prompt: wings
rating: PG
word count: 358
warnings: persuasive!cook, shy!archie, cracky IMO D:
"Come on, show me!"
"No!"
"Please?"
"No, Cook, and oh my gosh stop making that face at me!" Archie hid his flushed cheeks in a pillow, face buried deep on the bed. Cook poked at his side, causing him to jump at the little jolt.
"Why won't you show me? You've been with me for months, and you won't show me your wings," Cook said to the angel. He had known him for a while, after he had almost literally scared the crap out of him when he found Archie sitting on his bed, staring at the picture frame he kept on his bedside table which pictured him and his two brothers.
"I don't want to show you, Cook! I already told you a million times that I look like...like a freak with them open. I look all scary and stuff. You don't want to see it," Archie insisted, turning on his side, away from Cook. Cook could tell that this question frustrated him, even though he didn't mean it.
"Hey now," Cook said, pressing his lips against his cheek, "nothing could ever make me look at you like a freak. I love you too much. I promise I won't judge you. But please, show me?" Cook tried one last time. Archie got up, and Cook feared he had done something wrong. But then he turned his back to him and this cloud of light formed around him (was this fucking real life?) and out popped two stark white sweeping wings from between his shoulder blades, fluttering slightly as the adjusted to the open space. Cook's pretty sure his jaw has touched the ground by now but he really didn't care, because holy shit he wasn't sure if this was really happening right now.
"You good now?" Archie says quietly, resisting the urge to curl up in a ball. Cook gets off the bed and stands in front of him, staring him dead in the eyes.
"You're beautiful," He says, and gives him a kiss. Archie blushes once more and rests his head against Cook's shoulder, while Cook strokes one wing and murmurs the words again and again.
Numero Tres.
prompt: sleepy, snuggling Archie
rating: PG
word count: 227
warnings: schmoop.
They were pressed together on the couch, Archie resting his head on Cook's shoulder, while they watched Finding Nemo for the millionth time. Cook actually wasn't that sick of the movie yet (it actually was pretty cute, okay? Even though Archie cried every time Nemo and Marlin were reunited at the end, but that's besides the point) and had agreed to put it on when a sleepy-eyed Archie had asked him too. His drooping eyes made Cook agree since it was impossible not too.
They were almost halfway through the movie when Archie had snuggled deeper into Cook's side, his breathing evening out as he fell into a comfortable sleep. Cook smiled and continued to watch the movie anyway, careful not to disturb Archie.
Archie moved a little closer to him in his sleep, and started humming a tune Cook faintly recognized--something off of Allison Iraheta's album? Oh, No One Else, it was Archie's favourite at the moment.--and sat quietly, watching as the images of Nemo and Dory and Marlin flickered on and off the screen.
By the time the movie was over Archie had fully rested his weight against Cook, now softly singing the Script's Breakeven to himself, and Cook just turned off the lamp over head, whispered a quick good night, Archie with a kiss to the temple, and fell asleep with him.
Numero Cuatro
prompt: Archie reaches out to Cook when he needs him most
rating: PG
word count: 511
warnings: angst. mentions of divorce.
Cook was pretty sure he broke about five traffic laws in the state of California and possibly four others that were only valid in Canada, but paid no attention to the many horn blows and rude gestures he was given. How he was not pulled over, he didn't know. He did know that Archie had called him about ten minutes prior, crying softly into the phone and not telling him what was wrong, and his phone promptly died before he got an answer out of him. Resisting the urge to smash his phone against the nearest wall, he stepped out into the studio and got into his car, and had been driving ever since.
When he arrived home he didn't even waste time to take off his shoes or whatever, but instead walked straight into their shared room where cries were emanating from. He found Archie curled up in the middle of their bed (looking so small and vulnerable), shaking uncontrollably, phone near his head.
Cook immediately pulled him into his arms. Archie put his own arms around Cook's neck and buried his face in the warm skin there, sniffling while his tears dampened both Cook's neck and his own face.
"Why?" Cook said; it was all he could say. Archie shook his head.
"My parents...they're...divorce," Archie managed to stutter out, voice stained with the weight of stress. Cook stiffened slightly, making his grip on Archie a little tighter.
"My dad isn't my most favourite person in this world, but I...I still love him. My mother...has dealt with all of his stuff...and has kept food on the table and my siblings safe. I knew...I knew...this was coming, but now...now that it's here...I don't want it to be," Archie whispered the last part and gave into that sob that wanted to rip out of his throat, and Cook held him, mulling over his words carefully before he said them.
"Oh God, Archie, I'm so sorry. I hate seeing people go through. But I want to let you know that you should never think this is your own fault. You are not the one to blame for this. It was their own differences that drove them apart, not one of their own children," Cook comforted, stroking his hair. He felt David nod against his neck and gasp for air, hiccuping softly.
"I know, Cook, I...I know. I'm worried about my...my little sisters, though. Daniel...he can take care of himself. But Jazzy and Amber, especially...especially Amber will have more...trouble understanding," Archie responded, voice strained with the effort of talking.
"You can help them understand. Sit down and talk with them. Better yet, have your mother do it. They should know what's happening," Cook said, and for the first time since that morning, when they had said good bye to go their separate ways for the day, Archie looked up at him.
"Okay, okay. Just...thank you, Cook," Archie said, hugging Cook the best that he could from his current position. Cook squeezed him, and didn't let go until Archie's cries had softened into even breathing.
Numero Cinco
prompt: Archie and Cook meet when they get into a fender bender
rating: PG
word count: 348
warnings: none really
So, when the jerk in front of Cook stopped short at the light, Cook slammed on his breaks but not before the guy in back of him hit his car. Cook pounded his steering wheel out of frustration, before stepping out of his car.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I didn't see you stopping and when I did stop it was too late and I'm really sorry," Cook turned around to find where the voice was coming from, and had to look down at the boy who barely met his shoulder. He looked no older than eighteen, and had a head of black hair and Jesus Christ a pair of bright, hazel eyes which looked scared.
"Don't worry about it," And yes, Cook took pity on him, because he did look truly frightened. He walked to the back of his car to assess the damage, the kid trailing at his heels. Luckily, there was only a couple of dents and scratches; nothing that wasn't fixable. The kid's white Prius wasn't in bad shape either.
"It's all right, just needs a little paint," Cook told him reassuringly, and the kid stared at him. Cook put his hand on his shoulder in an act of comfort, and he heard the kid's breath hitch.
"We haven't properly introduced ourselves yet. I'm David, David Cook," Cook said, putting out his hand. The kid looked at it, before hesitatingly taking it.
"I'm David Archuleta, and I'm still sorry about your car," David said, shaking Cook's hand, which was warm and callused over his own.
"It's okay, I swear," Cook glanced around, noticing the man who had stopped in front of him was angrily on the phone with 911.
"Looks like we're going to be a while, why don't we talk?" Cook said, sitting down on the curb. David looked at him blankly.
"Come on, I don't bite," Cook smiled and patted the concrete next to him. David returned the gesture and sat down, and managed to make conversation with him well after their cars were towed and the sun had set.
Numero Seis.
prompt: Archie has morning sickness while following Cook around on tour
rating: R
word count: 406
warnings: MPREG. Neal also has a bad mouth.
note: quite possibly my favourite of the eight I wrote here, haha.
When Archie agreed to follow Cook around on tour, he was only two weeks pregnant with their first child and was feeling fine, very willing to follow Cook around. He knew that it'd only be for a few months and he would go along for the ride, maybe make a spontaneous duet here and there, whatever.
Three weeks later, however, en route to Sacramento, Archie was jostled out of bed before the sun was even out, and was promptly spilling the contents of his stomach into the small toilet of the bus bathroom. Cook, who is a heavy sleeper, didn't get out of bed until he heard Neal yell oh, what the fuck, I'm trying to sleep and I sure as hell don't want to hear this and threw a pillow at Cook's head.
The same thing happened for the next week, but Cook actually got out of bed and rubbed his back and whispered some soft words of comfort into his ear, and decided he needed to take his measures a step further when on morning number fourteen Archie pulled back and looked up at him with wide, teary eyes and whispered I don't want to do this any more.
When they were at the rest stop in Boise, he took a trip down to the nearest drugstore and bought every remedy he could find: ginger tea, wrist bands, patches for behind the ears. He piled them all on the counter and when the clerk gave him a confused look he just said something like it's for a friend, paid for the items and brought them back to the bus.
The patches completely failed them (Cook cussed loudly when Archie was wearing them and found they just made him even more sick) and it took them two days to find the pressure points on Archie's wrists by trial and error, but he really liked the tea which settled his stomach and put him at ease. He even felt well enough to do an impromptu duet with Cook on Journey's Don't Stop Believing and for the next three months they made it a nightly occurrence.
(And you know, it all paid off when six months after tour ended Archie was holding their tiny son in his arms and looking up at Cook with his eyes welling for completely different reason, and said he's all ours, and Cook, well, he was happier than he had ever been.)
Wrong.
Funny how when you're waiting for something awesome to happen, time passes to slow. Then when you're trying to put off a bad situation, it comes faster than you expect.
Funny how the world works.
He looked at his watch again; a whole two minutes had passed while he was doing his thinking. That's a step in the right direction. Suddenly, a voice crackled to life on the loud speaker.
"Flight 282 from Ethiopia to Los Angeles is now landing."
Archie stood up, this is it, and waited for the gate to open. No less than a minute later the doors to gate twenty four were opened and out came a stream of people, exhausted from the eighteen hour trip. But also he saw that familiar white beanie over the crowd, and his heart might have skipped a beat. The owner of the beanie saw his face and smiled immediately, and with new found energy rushed over to Archie, picking him off the ground and spinning him in a circle. Archie giggled, face pressed into his neck.
"Missed you so much," He said into the skin when Cook put him down.
"Missed you too," Cook responded, making Archie meet his eyes. He looked around and placed a chaste kiss upon his lips. He pulled back and his expression softened.
"Don't cry, baby, I'm here now," Cook said, running his thumbs over his cheeks. Archie didn't even realize it until he felt his face getting wet.
"I'm just happy, okay?" He sniffled, digging his face into Cook's chest, taking a breath in and only smelling him, and sighed contentedly.
"Welcome home, Cook."
Numero Dos.
prompt: wings
rating: PG
word count: 358
warnings: persuasive!cook, shy!archie, cracky IMO D:
"Come on, show me!"
"No!"
"Please?"
"No, Cook, and oh my gosh stop making that face at me!" Archie hid his flushed cheeks in a pillow, face buried deep on the bed. Cook poked at his side, causing him to jump at the little jolt.
"Why won't you show me? You've been with me for months, and you won't show me your wings," Cook said to the angel. He had known him for a while, after he had almost literally scared the crap out of him when he found Archie sitting on his bed, staring at the picture frame he kept on his bedside table which pictured him and his two brothers.
"I don't want to show you, Cook! I already told you a million times that I look like...like a freak with them open. I look all scary and stuff. You don't want to see it," Archie insisted, turning on his side, away from Cook. Cook could tell that this question frustrated him, even though he didn't mean it.
"Hey now," Cook said, pressing his lips against his cheek, "nothing could ever make me look at you like a freak. I love you too much. I promise I won't judge you. But please, show me?" Cook tried one last time. Archie got up, and Cook feared he had done something wrong. But then he turned his back to him and this cloud of light formed around him (was this fucking real life?) and out popped two stark white sweeping wings from between his shoulder blades, fluttering slightly as the adjusted to the open space. Cook's pretty sure his jaw has touched the ground by now but he really didn't care, because holy shit he wasn't sure if this was really happening right now.
"You good now?" Archie says quietly, resisting the urge to curl up in a ball. Cook gets off the bed and stands in front of him, staring him dead in the eyes.
"You're beautiful," He says, and gives him a kiss. Archie blushes once more and rests his head against Cook's shoulder, while Cook strokes one wing and murmurs the words again and again.
Numero Tres.
prompt: sleepy, snuggling Archie
rating: PG
word count: 227
warnings: schmoop.
They were pressed together on the couch, Archie resting his head on Cook's shoulder, while they watched Finding Nemo for the millionth time. Cook actually wasn't that sick of the movie yet (it actually was pretty cute, okay? Even though Archie cried every time Nemo and Marlin were reunited at the end, but that's besides the point) and had agreed to put it on when a sleepy-eyed Archie had asked him too. His drooping eyes made Cook agree since it was impossible not too.
They were almost halfway through the movie when Archie had snuggled deeper into Cook's side, his breathing evening out as he fell into a comfortable sleep. Cook smiled and continued to watch the movie anyway, careful not to disturb Archie.
Archie moved a little closer to him in his sleep, and started humming a tune Cook faintly recognized--something off of Allison Iraheta's album? Oh, No One Else, it was Archie's favourite at the moment.--and sat quietly, watching as the images of Nemo and Dory and Marlin flickered on and off the screen.
By the time the movie was over Archie had fully rested his weight against Cook, now softly singing the Script's Breakeven to himself, and Cook just turned off the lamp over head, whispered a quick good night, Archie with a kiss to the temple, and fell asleep with him.
Numero Cuatro
prompt: Archie reaches out to Cook when he needs him most
rating: PG
word count: 511
warnings: angst. mentions of divorce.
Cook was pretty sure he broke about five traffic laws in the state of California and possibly four others that were only valid in Canada, but paid no attention to the many horn blows and rude gestures he was given. How he was not pulled over, he didn't know. He did know that Archie had called him about ten minutes prior, crying softly into the phone and not telling him what was wrong, and his phone promptly died before he got an answer out of him. Resisting the urge to smash his phone against the nearest wall, he stepped out into the studio and got into his car, and had been driving ever since.
When he arrived home he didn't even waste time to take off his shoes or whatever, but instead walked straight into their shared room where cries were emanating from. He found Archie curled up in the middle of their bed (looking so small and vulnerable), shaking uncontrollably, phone near his head.
Cook immediately pulled him into his arms. Archie put his own arms around Cook's neck and buried his face in the warm skin there, sniffling while his tears dampened both Cook's neck and his own face.
"Why?" Cook said; it was all he could say. Archie shook his head.
"My parents...they're...divorce," Archie managed to stutter out, voice stained with the weight of stress. Cook stiffened slightly, making his grip on Archie a little tighter.
"My dad isn't my most favourite person in this world, but I...I still love him. My mother...has dealt with all of his stuff...and has kept food on the table and my siblings safe. I knew...I knew...this was coming, but now...now that it's here...I don't want it to be," Archie whispered the last part and gave into that sob that wanted to rip out of his throat, and Cook held him, mulling over his words carefully before he said them.
"Oh God, Archie, I'm so sorry. I hate seeing people go through. But I want to let you know that you should never think this is your own fault. You are not the one to blame for this. It was their own differences that drove them apart, not one of their own children," Cook comforted, stroking his hair. He felt David nod against his neck and gasp for air, hiccuping softly.
"I know, Cook, I...I know. I'm worried about my...my little sisters, though. Daniel...he can take care of himself. But Jazzy and Amber, especially...especially Amber will have more...trouble understanding," Archie responded, voice strained with the effort of talking.
"You can help them understand. Sit down and talk with them. Better yet, have your mother do it. They should know what's happening," Cook said, and for the first time since that morning, when they had said good bye to go their separate ways for the day, Archie looked up at him.
"Okay, okay. Just...thank you, Cook," Archie said, hugging Cook the best that he could from his current position. Cook squeezed him, and didn't let go until Archie's cries had softened into even breathing.
Numero Cinco
prompt: Archie and Cook meet when they get into a fender bender
rating: PG
word count: 348
warnings: none really
So, when the jerk in front of Cook stopped short at the light, Cook slammed on his breaks but not before the guy in back of him hit his car. Cook pounded his steering wheel out of frustration, before stepping out of his car.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I didn't see you stopping and when I did stop it was too late and I'm really sorry," Cook turned around to find where the voice was coming from, and had to look down at the boy who barely met his shoulder. He looked no older than eighteen, and had a head of black hair and Jesus Christ a pair of bright, hazel eyes which looked scared.
"Don't worry about it," And yes, Cook took pity on him, because he did look truly frightened. He walked to the back of his car to assess the damage, the kid trailing at his heels. Luckily, there was only a couple of dents and scratches; nothing that wasn't fixable. The kid's white Prius wasn't in bad shape either.
"It's all right, just needs a little paint," Cook told him reassuringly, and the kid stared at him. Cook put his hand on his shoulder in an act of comfort, and he heard the kid's breath hitch.
"We haven't properly introduced ourselves yet. I'm David, David Cook," Cook said, putting out his hand. The kid looked at it, before hesitatingly taking it.
"I'm David Archuleta, and I'm still sorry about your car," David said, shaking Cook's hand, which was warm and callused over his own.
"It's okay, I swear," Cook glanced around, noticing the man who had stopped in front of him was angrily on the phone with 911.
"Looks like we're going to be a while, why don't we talk?" Cook said, sitting down on the curb. David looked at him blankly.
"Come on, I don't bite," Cook smiled and patted the concrete next to him. David returned the gesture and sat down, and managed to make conversation with him well after their cars were towed and the sun had set.
Numero Seis.
prompt: Archie has morning sickness while following Cook around on tour
rating: R
word count: 406
warnings: MPREG. Neal also has a bad mouth.
note: quite possibly my favourite of the eight I wrote here, haha.
When Archie agreed to follow Cook around on tour, he was only two weeks pregnant with their first child and was feeling fine, very willing to follow Cook around. He knew that it'd only be for a few months and he would go along for the ride, maybe make a spontaneous duet here and there, whatever.
Three weeks later, however, en route to Sacramento, Archie was jostled out of bed before the sun was even out, and was promptly spilling the contents of his stomach into the small toilet of the bus bathroom. Cook, who is a heavy sleeper, didn't get out of bed until he heard Neal yell oh, what the fuck, I'm trying to sleep and I sure as hell don't want to hear this and threw a pillow at Cook's head.
The same thing happened for the next week, but Cook actually got out of bed and rubbed his back and whispered some soft words of comfort into his ear, and decided he needed to take his measures a step further when on morning number fourteen Archie pulled back and looked up at him with wide, teary eyes and whispered I don't want to do this any more.
When they were at the rest stop in Boise, he took a trip down to the nearest drugstore and bought every remedy he could find: ginger tea, wrist bands, patches for behind the ears. He piled them all on the counter and when the clerk gave him a confused look he just said something like it's for a friend, paid for the items and brought them back to the bus.
The patches completely failed them (Cook cussed loudly when Archie was wearing them and found they just made him even more sick) and it took them two days to find the pressure points on Archie's wrists by trial and error, but he really liked the tea which settled his stomach and put him at ease. He even felt well enough to do an impromptu duet with Cook on Journey's Don't Stop Believing and for the next three months they made it a nightly occurrence.
(And you know, it all paid off when six months after tour ended Archie was holding their tiny son in his arms and looking up at Cook with his eyes welling for completely different reason, and said he's all ours, and Cook, well, he was happier than he had ever been.)