wow we've got an archive i'm the only person here yEAH
disclaimer: none of these characters or situations belong to me.
Sometimes you just wish you could be like the other boys.
Pretty little paper archetypes, the nerd, the jock, the 'middleman.' But you, you lost your archetype a long time ago. It was easier, really, to fit under somebody else's idea of what people should be like. And you miss it, every once in awhile.
You voice that feeling to Archie one night, when the two of you are sitting alone in the end of the hallway that nobody ever wants to walk in. It's your usual meeting place, just obvious enough to make you look like you could be any other Trinity students but just secretive enough to keep the pair of you comfortable.
A smirk plays on his lips and he laughs that stupid, irritating laugh that makes you want to smack that ever-so-attractive smirk off of his bastard face. "Tell me, Obie, what do normal boys do?"
You shrug. "Talk about girls and, god, I don't know, baseball or something. Go out with their girlfriends and do stupid, illegal things."
"Wrong," he says, grinning. "All of them have got thoughts just like ours, implanted deep down in their tiny little brains." You blink at him, surprised by this sudden confession that other people might just be as intelligent as the great Archie Costello. "They're stupider, of course," he adds, as though reading your thoughts. Archie's always had that uncanny knack for saying exactly what you're thinking. You used to think it was creepy, but you've gotten used to the idea that Archie Costello has settled himself down inside your brain waves.
"Girls and sports, though. That's what most of it is."
Archie snorts. "And Obie, dear, are you interested in girls and sports all of the sudden? Is that why you've come to me with this realization?"
The affectionate term he adds after your name makes your stomach churn. He's just so goddamn smug about it. Like he knows it'll cause your face to flush and your eyes to dart nervously around to see if anyone's watching. "Not at all. You know me."
Archie laughs. "Indeed I do."
"I just wish, sometimes...we could be like normal boys. For once."
"Oh, damn those other, 'normal' boys, Obie. Can the normal boys have as much fun as we do?" He smiles, one of the many different forms of smiles that he's got in his wide repertoire. The smirk, the mock compassionate smile, and then the secretive one he reserves just for you are a few that you can think of.
Archie looks surprisingly un-coiffed in this moment, his hair seeming duller and his actions seeming less practiced. He seems about to break into a sermon about god-knows-what, the next assignment or any of that bullshit. So you bury your hands in that messy, wispy blond hair and kiss him, long and hard and needy. If only to shut him up. But those have always been the best kinds of kisses, you think.
He smirks against your lips and murmurs something. You don't catch it, but it probably wasn't important anyways. That's a lie, everything Archie says is important. But the thing is, you don't particularly care at the moment. You're the only one who's got the nerve not to care about what he's saying sometimes.
Archie wraps an arm around your waist and slides you into his lap, and you wonder whether this is such a good idea in a semi-public place.
You decide that just like the other boys, it doesn't really matter.