Wish Upon Tomorrow (Neal/Archie, PG-13)
Title: Wish Upon Tomorrow
Author: sophie_448
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Neal/Archie
Word Count: 967
Warnings: None
Summary: Archie has something on his mind. Neal makes him talk.
Notes: Schmoop, schmoop and MOAR SCHMOOP. I blame otherbella for infecting me with this fluffiness. (IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE!) Thanks to celtic_cookie for assuring me that this level of fluff was acceptable for general internet consumption. Title from "You Can" by one Mr. Archuleta.
Archie’s home when Neal gets back from the studio. It’s a rare occurrence, even though they’ve been living together for three years. Their schedules don’t line up any better than they used to, honestly. Archie’s threatened to fire his manager more than once, but Neal knows how much he likes her. How hard it was to find someone he could trust after Jeff. So he doesn’t push. They work with what they’ve got.
“Honey, I’m home!” Neal calls because it never fails to make Archie scowl and try unsuccessfully to hold back a giggle.
“In here,” Archie calls from the kitchen, strangely blank. Neal frowns. He drops his guitar case by the couch and wanders in. Archie is clearly in the middle of another cooking experiment. Every so often, he calls Lupe for one of her recipes because he misses home. He doesn’t get back much now that his limited free time is mostly spent here, not in Utah. The results are either completely delightful or completely terrible. Neal looks at the ground beef thawing in the sink and the diced tomatoes on the chopping board and wonders which this will be.
Archie looks up and smiles at him when Neal walks in, but his eyes are tired. “Hey, how was your day?”
Neal shrugs. “You know, the usual. I did lay down a pretty awesome riff on that one song. You know, the one Dave wrote with Sara?” He feels a grin tugging at his lips, remembering the notes flowing from his fingers perfectly.
“Oh, yeah?” Archie’s smile is a little more genuine this time. “That’s a great song.”
Neal nods. It really is. “So how ‘bout you?” he asks, looping an arm around Archie’s waist and pulling him away from his mixing bowl. “Good day?”
Archie relaxes into Neal’s hold, shrugging a shoulder. “Not bad. A couple of phone interviews, and I worked on finishing that thing I started with Hodges last week.”
Neal ducks in and kisses him. “Missed you,” he says.
“You just saw me this morning,” Archie points out, but the light finally reaches his eyes.
“So, what’s got you pulling out the home cooking?” Neal asks.
Archie’s face falls for a moment before he tries to cover it up by turning back to the counter. “Oh, nothing particular,” he says with false brightness. “Just missing home a little.”
Neal shakes his head. “You’re a shitty liar, Archuleta.” Archie shoots a guilty look at him from under his eyelashes. “So, spill.”
Archie’s shoulders slump, and he stares silently at the counter for a few moments. Neal’s about to prod him again when he finally speaks. “Brooke’s having a baby,” he tells the tomatoes softly.
Neal grins. “But that’s great!” he says, utterly confused by Archie’s demeanor. “It is great, right?”
Archie seems to shake himself. He looks up at Neal. “Yeah, yeah, of course it is,” he says, strained but genuine. “I’m really happy for her.”
“But?” Neal prompts.
Archie picks up a knife and starts slicing a bell pepper with careful deliberation. “It got me thinking,” he says, “about how I’ll never have that. Now.”
Neal’s brows snap together. “Why the hell not?” he demands.
Archie looks up from the pepper with an expression that suggests he thinks the vegetable is coming in ahead of Neal in terms of intelligence right about then.
Neal shakes his head. “Well, obviously not that, that,” he clarifies. “But there are ways. Adoption. Surrogacy.”
Archie’s expression turns from scornful to stunned. “I didn’t think you’d even-I thought you wouldn’t-” He gestures helplessly in lieu of finishing a sentence.
“What? Want kids?” Neal asks, waffling between feeling offended and really, really shitty.
Archie shrugs, looking at the cutting board again. “We never talked about it,” he says.
“You’re twenty-three,” Neal points out. “I figured you wouldn’t. At least not yet.” He pulls one of his lip rings into his mouth, a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to get too serious too fast and risk fucking this up.” It’s Neal’s turn to talk to vegetables now. He’s surprised by Archie’s hand, gentle on his cheek.
“Hey,” Archie says, turning Neal’s face towards him. Neal meets his eyes reluctantly. “Didn’t I tell you you were stuck with me years ago?”
Neal nods, a wry grin pulling at his lips. “You told me. I just didn’t quite believe I was that lucky a bastard.”
Archie shakes his head in fond exasperation. “I’m the lucky one,” he says.
Neal presses Archie back against the counter and strokes a thumb down his jaw. Archie shivers slightly and his eyes go dark. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Neal feels his breathing kick up a notch. He leans in and kisses those sinfully soft lips. Archie opens for him right away, and Neal groans, pressing in even closer.
He wonders if he’ll ever stop being amazed by Archie, but he doesn’t think so. After a minute or two, Archie pushes him back with an apologetic half-smile. “Gotta finish dinner,” he says. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and swollen from their kisses. Neal is tempted to say fuck dinner, but he doesn’t. They’ve got all night after all. He steps back with a nod and goes to put his stuff away while Archie finishes.
Neal pauses at the door to the kitchen and looks back. “Hey, babe?” he says. Archie looks up questioningly. “Maybe we’re both lucky.”
Archie’s smile is brilliant. Neal bites at his lip rings to stop his own grin as he heads back into the living room. While Archie finishes dinner, he opens up the secret bookmarks folder on his laptop. The one with links to site on surrogacy and adoption options in California.
Author: sophie_448
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Neal/Archie
Word Count: 967
Warnings: None
Summary: Archie has something on his mind. Neal makes him talk.
Notes: Schmoop, schmoop and MOAR SCHMOOP. I blame otherbella for infecting me with this fluffiness. (IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE!) Thanks to celtic_cookie for assuring me that this level of fluff was acceptable for general internet consumption. Title from "You Can" by one Mr. Archuleta.
Archie’s home when Neal gets back from the studio. It’s a rare occurrence, even though they’ve been living together for three years. Their schedules don’t line up any better than they used to, honestly. Archie’s threatened to fire his manager more than once, but Neal knows how much he likes her. How hard it was to find someone he could trust after Jeff. So he doesn’t push. They work with what they’ve got.
“Honey, I’m home!” Neal calls because it never fails to make Archie scowl and try unsuccessfully to hold back a giggle.
“In here,” Archie calls from the kitchen, strangely blank. Neal frowns. He drops his guitar case by the couch and wanders in. Archie is clearly in the middle of another cooking experiment. Every so often, he calls Lupe for one of her recipes because he misses home. He doesn’t get back much now that his limited free time is mostly spent here, not in Utah. The results are either completely delightful or completely terrible. Neal looks at the ground beef thawing in the sink and the diced tomatoes on the chopping board and wonders which this will be.
Archie looks up and smiles at him when Neal walks in, but his eyes are tired. “Hey, how was your day?”
Neal shrugs. “You know, the usual. I did lay down a pretty awesome riff on that one song. You know, the one Dave wrote with Sara?” He feels a grin tugging at his lips, remembering the notes flowing from his fingers perfectly.
“Oh, yeah?” Archie’s smile is a little more genuine this time. “That’s a great song.”
Neal nods. It really is. “So how ‘bout you?” he asks, looping an arm around Archie’s waist and pulling him away from his mixing bowl. “Good day?”
Archie relaxes into Neal’s hold, shrugging a shoulder. “Not bad. A couple of phone interviews, and I worked on finishing that thing I started with Hodges last week.”
Neal ducks in and kisses him. “Missed you,” he says.
“You just saw me this morning,” Archie points out, but the light finally reaches his eyes.
“So, what’s got you pulling out the home cooking?” Neal asks.
Archie’s face falls for a moment before he tries to cover it up by turning back to the counter. “Oh, nothing particular,” he says with false brightness. “Just missing home a little.”
Neal shakes his head. “You’re a shitty liar, Archuleta.” Archie shoots a guilty look at him from under his eyelashes. “So, spill.”
Archie’s shoulders slump, and he stares silently at the counter for a few moments. Neal’s about to prod him again when he finally speaks. “Brooke’s having a baby,” he tells the tomatoes softly.
Neal grins. “But that’s great!” he says, utterly confused by Archie’s demeanor. “It is great, right?”
Archie seems to shake himself. He looks up at Neal. “Yeah, yeah, of course it is,” he says, strained but genuine. “I’m really happy for her.”
“But?” Neal prompts.
Archie picks up a knife and starts slicing a bell pepper with careful deliberation. “It got me thinking,” he says, “about how I’ll never have that. Now.”
Neal’s brows snap together. “Why the hell not?” he demands.
Archie looks up from the pepper with an expression that suggests he thinks the vegetable is coming in ahead of Neal in terms of intelligence right about then.
Neal shakes his head. “Well, obviously not that, that,” he clarifies. “But there are ways. Adoption. Surrogacy.”
Archie’s expression turns from scornful to stunned. “I didn’t think you’d even-I thought you wouldn’t-” He gestures helplessly in lieu of finishing a sentence.
“What? Want kids?” Neal asks, waffling between feeling offended and really, really shitty.
Archie shrugs, looking at the cutting board again. “We never talked about it,” he says.
“You’re twenty-three,” Neal points out. “I figured you wouldn’t. At least not yet.” He pulls one of his lip rings into his mouth, a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to get too serious too fast and risk fucking this up.” It’s Neal’s turn to talk to vegetables now. He’s surprised by Archie’s hand, gentle on his cheek.
“Hey,” Archie says, turning Neal’s face towards him. Neal meets his eyes reluctantly. “Didn’t I tell you you were stuck with me years ago?”
Neal nods, a wry grin pulling at his lips. “You told me. I just didn’t quite believe I was that lucky a bastard.”
Archie shakes his head in fond exasperation. “I’m the lucky one,” he says.
Neal presses Archie back against the counter and strokes a thumb down his jaw. Archie shivers slightly and his eyes go dark. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Neal feels his breathing kick up a notch. He leans in and kisses those sinfully soft lips. Archie opens for him right away, and Neal groans, pressing in even closer.
He wonders if he’ll ever stop being amazed by Archie, but he doesn’t think so. After a minute or two, Archie pushes him back with an apologetic half-smile. “Gotta finish dinner,” he says. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and swollen from their kisses. Neal is tempted to say fuck dinner, but he doesn’t. They’ve got all night after all. He steps back with a nod and goes to put his stuff away while Archie finishes.
Neal pauses at the door to the kitchen and looks back. “Hey, babe?” he says. Archie looks up questioningly. “Maybe we’re both lucky.”
Archie’s smile is brilliant. Neal bites at his lip rings to stop his own grin as he heads back into the living room. While Archie finishes dinner, he opens up the secret bookmarks folder on his laptop. The one with links to site on surrogacy and adoption options in California.