Andy/Archie: The Weight of Worth
It all starts because-well. Honestly? Andy doesn’t have a clue as to how it starts. Archie’s practically Dave’s kid brother, and friends just don’t do that shit, you know? They don’t go behind each other’s backs and date each other’s kid brothers. Only it can’t even be called dating, what they’re doing, not really, Andy thinks. Dating implies going out; Andy and Archie pretty much just stay in-Archie’s place or his own, doesn’t really matter-but the thing is that they’re tucked away, secluded and private, and no one knows.
And okay, Andy gets it; he’s an asshole. But when Dave says that he’s going to grab some dinner with the Doctor and would he like to come?, Andy still says no, still picks up his phone and texts Archie, still goes down on him before Neal and Dave are even through their first round of drinks.
Of course, Andy noticed it right away. He’d have to be blind not to notice it, the way Archie’s grown up since Idol and how he’s filled out and gotten taller and surer of himself, and how he’s still got that laugh and how he suddenly, inexplicably, makes Andy’s chest feel tight.
It’s not fair.
“Shanghai Noon, or, um.” Archie looks at the movie selection. “Or Finding Nemo?” It’s just the two of them because Dave bailed at the last minute.
“Really?” Andy asks. He’s making popcorn.
“Yes.”
“Ok, then,” he says. “Shanghai Noon.”
“No need to decide so fast,” Archie says. “But, um. I think you should know that Finding Nemo is my all-time favorite movie.”
“Finding Nemo it is, then,” Andy says, and Archie rolls his eyes and dramatically scoffs.
“Fine,” he says. “If you insist.”
They don’t kiss that night, or the following night, or even that week, but it’s alright because when Archie finally does kiss him, he does it real softly, not hard or with a lot of tongue or any of those things that Andy usually likes, and it makes Andy’s head spin.
But he’s Dave’s, Andy reminds himself, and it’s purely platonic but David called dibs a long time ago, long before Andy ever even knew who Archie was, and that should be that, but it just isn’t. It just can’t be, not for Andy.
Archie says, “Can you, um. Do you want to come over tonight?”
“Yeah,” Andy says. “Yes.”
“I’m worried that if Cook finds out about this, he’ll be really mad,” Archie whispers after a month. “We’ve kept this a secret for a long time.” He’s lying on his side, facing Andy, and their noses are so close they’re almost touching. Andy notes the this-not-us and the if-not-when and wonders if any of it was on purpose.
“Me too,” Andy whispers back.
And it’s only later, when Archie’s asleep and Andy’s too tired to remember it in the morning, that he says, “But it’s worth it, I think.”
And okay, Andy gets it; he’s an asshole. But when Dave says that he’s going to grab some dinner with the Doctor and would he like to come?, Andy still says no, still picks up his phone and texts Archie, still goes down on him before Neal and Dave are even through their first round of drinks.
Of course, Andy noticed it right away. He’d have to be blind not to notice it, the way Archie’s grown up since Idol and how he’s filled out and gotten taller and surer of himself, and how he’s still got that laugh and how he suddenly, inexplicably, makes Andy’s chest feel tight.
It’s not fair.
“Shanghai Noon, or, um.” Archie looks at the movie selection. “Or Finding Nemo?” It’s just the two of them because Dave bailed at the last minute.
“Really?” Andy asks. He’s making popcorn.
“Yes.”
“Ok, then,” he says. “Shanghai Noon.”
“No need to decide so fast,” Archie says. “But, um. I think you should know that Finding Nemo is my all-time favorite movie.”
“Finding Nemo it is, then,” Andy says, and Archie rolls his eyes and dramatically scoffs.
“Fine,” he says. “If you insist.”
They don’t kiss that night, or the following night, or even that week, but it’s alright because when Archie finally does kiss him, he does it real softly, not hard or with a lot of tongue or any of those things that Andy usually likes, and it makes Andy’s head spin.
But he’s Dave’s, Andy reminds himself, and it’s purely platonic but David called dibs a long time ago, long before Andy ever even knew who Archie was, and that should be that, but it just isn’t. It just can’t be, not for Andy.
Archie says, “Can you, um. Do you want to come over tonight?”
“Yeah,” Andy says. “Yes.”
“I’m worried that if Cook finds out about this, he’ll be really mad,” Archie whispers after a month. “We’ve kept this a secret for a long time.” He’s lying on his side, facing Andy, and their noses are so close they’re almost touching. Andy notes the this-not-us and the if-not-when and wonders if any of it was on purpose.
“Me too,” Andy whispers back.
And it’s only later, when Archie’s asleep and Andy’s too tired to remember it in the morning, that he says, “But it’s worth it, I think.”