American Idol/The Anthemic: "Call Me Your Loverman"
Call Me Your Loverman
Fandom: American Idol/The Anthemic
Pairing: Neal Tiemann/David Archuleta
Word count: 651
Beta: anathema64
Rating: PG13
Summary: Neal visits Archie's new apartment for the first time.
Disclaimer: These characters own themselves, since they're real people and all. I doubt this ever happened, since it's in the future.
Author's Note: Written for mission_insane, table Un-Themed 9, prompt #6 - Pole. Title from the song Do You Wanna Dance? by Bobby Freeman.
When Neal walks into Archie’s apartment for the first time - he hadn’t had a chance before and would’ve helped him move in if he hadn’t been around the world on tour - he stops in the doorway to the bedroom and just stares. He’s pretty sure his mouth is open.
“Neal,” he hears Archie say, kind of far away. “Close your mouth, you’re catching flies, haha.”
Neal blinks, making an effort to close his mouth. “Is that…? Do you…? There’s a fucking stripper pole in the middle of your bedroom.” He doesn’t care about the profanity. Can’t tear his eyes away, because… because there’s a stripper pole in the middle of his boyfriend’s bedroom. His boyfriend who still, after months together, still blushes when Neal tells him how hot he makes him; still blushes when Neal groans his name as he comes; still blushes when Neal kisses him in front of their friends.
Archie coughs behind him, and Neal manages to finally tear his eyes away from… from the damn stripper pole, to look at his boyfriend. “Do you like it?” Archie asks, his voice uncertain. “I thought you might like it since… you know…” he trails off, shrugging and averting his eyes to the carpet. Neal can see him nibbling his lower lip.
Suddenly, it dawns on Neal what his boyfriend isn’t saying. “You thought I’d like it if you got a stripper pole because of… that’s her job, Arch,” he says, chuckling. “Her job and our relationship were two separate things, you know?”
“Does that mean you want me to take it out?” Archie looks up at him under his lashes. “You don’t like it, do you? I should have asked you first, I just thought I’d surprise you.”
“Oh, you certainly surprised me, all right.” He looks over at the brass pole another time before stepping forward and pressing his boyfriend against the wall, next to the bedroom door, kissing him softly. “You know,” he says, after pulling back just a few inches. “It’d be a waste of money not to try it out at least once.”
Archie blinks. “Uhh… what?”
“Well, that’s why you bought it, right?” He steps away from Archie, settling on the bed. “Come on, hot stuff, show me what you’ve got.” He smirks, turning on the radio.
When Archie’s latest single comes on after the commercial, the one they wrote together, Neal can’t help but smile and laugh.
“Neal, I can’t strip to my own song,” Archie exclaims. “That’s just weird!”
“It’s perfect,” Neal says, humming along.
Archie mumbles something under his breath, too low for Neal to catch, before he moves over to the pole and spins around it. It’s awkward at first, and Neal can’t help but laugh. Then, however, the song switches over, and so does the atmosphere when they both realize which song it is. For the rest of the show, the air in the room is heavy with sex.
It’s not until an hour or so later when they’re wrapped up in each other’s arms, naked skin against naked skin and damp with sweat, that Neal speaks properly again. “You’re keeping the pole.”
At the finality of his tone of voice, Archie just nods against his chest. He can feel Archie smile. “Just so you know,” Archie says. “The next time, it’s your turn.”
Neal stiffens. “I don’t dance,” he tries.
“You do now,” Archie says, laughing even though there’s a decisive edge to his voice, and Neal knows that sometime, in the not so distant future, he’s about to embarrass himself. That’s okay, though, because he’s done that frequently in front of Archie for the last few months, years even, when they were still just friends and before when they barely even knew each other.
“I guess I do,” he says, pulling his boyfriend even closer and kissing the side of his hair before drifting off to sleep.
Fandom: American Idol/The Anthemic
Pairing: Neal Tiemann/David Archuleta
Word count: 651
Beta: anathema64
Rating: PG13
Summary: Neal visits Archie's new apartment for the first time.
Disclaimer: These characters own themselves, since they're real people and all. I doubt this ever happened, since it's in the future.
Author's Note: Written for mission_insane, table Un-Themed 9, prompt #6 - Pole. Title from the song Do You Wanna Dance? by Bobby Freeman.
When Neal walks into Archie’s apartment for the first time - he hadn’t had a chance before and would’ve helped him move in if he hadn’t been around the world on tour - he stops in the doorway to the bedroom and just stares. He’s pretty sure his mouth is open.
“Neal,” he hears Archie say, kind of far away. “Close your mouth, you’re catching flies, haha.”
Neal blinks, making an effort to close his mouth. “Is that…? Do you…? There’s a fucking stripper pole in the middle of your bedroom.” He doesn’t care about the profanity. Can’t tear his eyes away, because… because there’s a stripper pole in the middle of his boyfriend’s bedroom. His boyfriend who still, after months together, still blushes when Neal tells him how hot he makes him; still blushes when Neal groans his name as he comes; still blushes when Neal kisses him in front of their friends.
Archie coughs behind him, and Neal manages to finally tear his eyes away from… from the damn stripper pole, to look at his boyfriend. “Do you like it?” Archie asks, his voice uncertain. “I thought you might like it since… you know…” he trails off, shrugging and averting his eyes to the carpet. Neal can see him nibbling his lower lip.
Suddenly, it dawns on Neal what his boyfriend isn’t saying. “You thought I’d like it if you got a stripper pole because of… that’s her job, Arch,” he says, chuckling. “Her job and our relationship were two separate things, you know?”
“Does that mean you want me to take it out?” Archie looks up at him under his lashes. “You don’t like it, do you? I should have asked you first, I just thought I’d surprise you.”
“Oh, you certainly surprised me, all right.” He looks over at the brass pole another time before stepping forward and pressing his boyfriend against the wall, next to the bedroom door, kissing him softly. “You know,” he says, after pulling back just a few inches. “It’d be a waste of money not to try it out at least once.”
Archie blinks. “Uhh… what?”
“Well, that’s why you bought it, right?” He steps away from Archie, settling on the bed. “Come on, hot stuff, show me what you’ve got.” He smirks, turning on the radio.
When Archie’s latest single comes on after the commercial, the one they wrote together, Neal can’t help but smile and laugh.
“Neal, I can’t strip to my own song,” Archie exclaims. “That’s just weird!”
“It’s perfect,” Neal says, humming along.
Archie mumbles something under his breath, too low for Neal to catch, before he moves over to the pole and spins around it. It’s awkward at first, and Neal can’t help but laugh. Then, however, the song switches over, and so does the atmosphere when they both realize which song it is. For the rest of the show, the air in the room is heavy with sex.
It’s not until an hour or so later when they’re wrapped up in each other’s arms, naked skin against naked skin and damp with sweat, that Neal speaks properly again. “You’re keeping the pole.”
At the finality of his tone of voice, Archie just nods against his chest. He can feel Archie smile. “Just so you know,” Archie says. “The next time, it’s your turn.”
Neal stiffens. “I don’t dance,” he tries.
“You do now,” Archie says, laughing even though there’s a decisive edge to his voice, and Neal knows that sometime, in the not so distant future, he’s about to embarrass himself. That’s okay, though, because he’s done that frequently in front of Archie for the last few months, years even, when they were still just friends and before when they barely even knew each other.
“I guess I do,” he says, pulling his boyfriend even closer and kissing the side of his hair before drifting off to sleep.