Title: Fill Me With Remorse
Pairing: Lucky Spencer/Cooper Barrett
Rating: PG13
AN: Written for the 1000 word challenge prompts over at the UC Board... Week 35: Drunk/Blame it on the Alcohol.
Lucky wakes up the next day with one hell of a hangover. His mouth tastes absolutely disgusting; he's pretty sure something died in there and he's in pajama pants that he can't remember putting on. The previous night's events are pretty hazy still but Coop's not there, so he can't fill in the blanks.
The room is dark, thankfully; the blinds closed to shut out the sunlight and Lucky's grateful. When he turns, he sees a glass of water and two pills on the nightstand… a small note beside it. Lucky's gut churns and his head pounds with every move he makes but he dodges the pills and water in favor of the note.
Had an early shift. We'll talk when I get back. Don't call me.
And take the pills and water and get some sleep, you're going to need it.
Cooper
Lucky sighs—the night before rushing back to him in fragmented images—and he feels like a complete and total asshole. He ignores the pounding in his head in favor of going for his phone, opening it up he sees a text message and frowns.
I'm serious. Don't call me, Spencer.
Lucky shuts his phone and drops it down against the nightstand. He takes the two pills, swallows it down with the water and lies back on the bed. He doesn't want to go to sleep though. What he really wants to do is talk to Coop, explain himself—although there really isn't much to explain because Lucky was a jealous, insecure, drunk idiot and there is no defending that. He wants to apologize—needs to—but he shuts his eyes and falls asleep anyway.
---
Lucky wakes up again and it's much later. The blinds are slightly open, the window, too, letting in the cool breeze from outside. Lucky shivers, plucking a sweater up from the floor and pulling it on. Of course it's one of Cooper's sweaters, he notes as he gets out of bed and makes his way into the bathroom.
His head is still dizzy but at least it isn't pounding. His stomach burns from emptiness though and he hopes he doesn't get sick. Lucky brushes his teeth, and then quickly relieves himself before washing his hands and completely bypassing the shower as he heads to the kitchen. He'll have to take a shower later when he's a little more stable and less like to risk his life coordinating himself in the shower.
Lucky stops abruptly when he notices Cooper on the couch, hands resting behind his head and eyes closed. Lucky swallows and shifts in place, knows Coop isn't sleeping.
"Hey," he offers softly.
Cooper's eyes blink open but his face still remains passive. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. Better," Lucky offers. "Thanks for the pills."
He shrugs, "Figured you'd need them." Lucky nods.
"I—uh," he clears his throat. "Thought you had to work."
"Did." And Lucky really hates the clipped tone to his words. "Mac let me go early… thought my head wasn't in the game so I might as well be home."
"Oh."
"Yeah, 'oh'."
"You're mad."
"You think?" Coop scoffed.
Lucky rests his hands on the couch, keeping his boyfriend's gaze. "I'm sorry, Coop. About last night, and. I was an asshole, okay? I shouldn't have said any of that and I'm really sorry."
"You think that erases everything, Spencer? 'I'm sorry'? Well, it doesn't." Coop growls out, standing toe-to-toe with him. "When have I given you any reason to think that I'd fuck around, huh? When have I ever been anything less than faithful to you since we started this?"
Lucky has the decency to look ashamed. "Never."
"So what the hell was last night about?"
"I don't know."
Coop snorts in disbelief and Lucky tries not to cringe at the derisive sound. "I don't. It was just—god. I was jealous, okay? And I was drinking. And that's no excuse, I know that but he was all fucking over you and it pissed me off."
"So what… that gives you the right to accuse me," Coop interrupts angrily. But Lucky can read the hurt in his eyes plain as day.
"It doesn't. I shouldn't have said the things I said last night. I fucked up. I know that. This is all on me… my insecurities, my fuck-ups… alright? And I'm sorry. You have to believe me, Coop. I'm so unbelievably sorry." Lucky repeats—heart in his throat as he moves closer. Tentatively resting his hand on Cooper's hip, Lucky feels the tension in his boyfriend's body racket up another notch.
"This isn't going to work if you don't trust me," Coop insists—body still tight and angry.
"I know. I know and I do trust you, Coop. I do. Last night was just—" Lucky sighs. "All kinds of bad and I can't say sorry enough. I was halfway to fried and—"
"That, too, Lucky."
"What?"
"The drinking. I get that people say stupid stuff when they're drunk. I'm not much better. But you know how you are—how you get—and you can't just sweep everything away with that excuse and keeping using it as a crutch." Coop adds with a serious look.
Lucky knows with his most recent cases, especially the last one, that he was piling on the drinks a little too much after work, but he didn't think it was getting that bad. Nevertheless, Cooper was right on that account and it wasn't fair to either one of them, especially if last night's drunken slurs of accusations were anything to go by. He'd made a complete fool out of himself and he was ashamed of his actions.
His fingers twitch against Coop's hip as he nods. "I—yeah. You're right. I'll dial it back some." Lucky feels Cooper start to relax in his hold and he grins. "You forgive me?"
Coop smiles, soft and warm, chest leaning against Lucky's own as he drops a chaste kiss on Lucky's lips. "I'm getting there."