Work Text:
7/22 SCHEDULE DAVID COOK 19E6:35 Arrive Good Day LA
6:45 Sound Check
6:55 Hair and Makeup
7:20 Interview/Perform
7:35 Autographs with Hamilton Magnet School performers
7:50 Depart Good Day LA
8:45 Arrive home
8:46 DAVE’S ACTUAL DAY OFF BEGINS
DO NOT SCHEDULE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH
THIS MEANS YOU, ROBERT
Archie was sitting at the foot of the bed when Cook woke up, making notes in the Scrabble dictionary.
“I like a guy who doesn’t give up,” Cook said, bumping Archie’s leg with his foot.
“I’m getting better,” Archie said.
Cook, who had no plans to admit he’d found an online Scrabble dictionary that he read religiously, said, “I support your efforts, futile as they may be.” He held a hand out; Archie abandoned the book and crawled up the bed to lie next to him.
“Robert called,” Archie said. Cook groaned and buried his head in Archie’s neck.
“No. No. And also no.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“I love you.”
Archie laughed and ran his fingers through Cook’s messy hair. Cook could feel the metal of Archie’s wedding ring at the nape of his neck. He gave a happy sigh and burrowed in further.
“So what are your plans for your day off, now that you’ve crossed napping off the list?”
“Napping is always on the list,” Cook said. “In fact, it was pretty much the entire list. Any ideas?”
“Well…” Archie sounded a little distracted, probably because Cook had worked a hand up under his shirt and was tracing designs on his stomach and side. “There’s a Dodgers game.”
“No driving.”
“Go for a run in the park?”
“No health-consciousness.”
“Hit up Netflix for a movie?”
“No paying attention.”
“Cook,” Archie said with a breathless laugh, “you’re running out of options here.”
“That’s okay,” Cook said. He applied his teeth very gently to a spot just under Archie’s ear, and the hand in his hair tightened painfully. He grinned and brushed an open-mouthed kiss over it. “All I need is the one option, really.”
“I guess it’s better than my option.” Archie shifted to catch Cook in a slow, thorough kiss.
“What was that?”
“Ah…strip Scrabble?” It was amazing, really, that marriage, public attention, and countless rounds of occasionally acrobatic sex had still not shaken Archie’s ability to blush like a schoolgirl.
“Oh, put that idea on the list,” Cook said.
As if to prove the blush a lie, Archie wriggled out from under Cook. In one fluid move, he pulled himself up and straddled Cook’s legs, stripping his shirt off at the same time.
“—In a minute,” Cook said, and grabbed for him.