Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!
Title: Steak Dinner
Summary: Doofus made Louie steaks for their anniversary. Louie comes home drunk and mopey.
...
It's midnight when the car rumbles into the driveway. Drake quietly stands up from the dinner table, steak cold and bland from hours of waiting, and moves to the front entryway. Out of a dark van stumbles Louie- clad in his typical green coat, shirt, and the pretty gold choke necklace he's so fond of. Gladstone honks the horn, waves goodbye, and slowly begins to back out.
"I made us dinner," Drake says as Louie stumbles quite literally into his arms. "It was a steak."
"Hmmm?" Louie hmmms, blinking at him listlessly. There's a glossy sheen to his eyes, reminding him of the rainbow shimmer of gasoline in a parking lot. "Oh, okay. That's nice, Drakey. Can I go lay down now?"
"You smell like a bar," he scolds, but leads him inside regardless. "A really cheap bar."
He sluggishly shook his head. "It was a good bar, I promise." There's a delay and a slur to his words. Louie's always been a lightweight. He leans on Drake's side. "Thanks for making dinner, honey. I'm sure it tasted good."
"It tasted terrible."
"Really?"
"Probably. I'm a terrible cook."
"Then how come you made it?"
Drake sighs long and loud. "Because it's our anniversary, and I read in a magazine that cooking each other meals is a good, stable thing boyfriends do for one another."
Louie hangs his head, swallowing a few times to avoid throwing up on the nice carpet. "Aw, man. Oh no. I'm so, so sorry Doof."
He wants to hold Louie accountable. He really, really does. But all Drake can think of is those unfortunate days of his youth; the possessive, obsessive nature he'd worked so hard to move on from. "It's fine," he says instead. "It was a bad steak dinner."
"No, no." Louie jerks away, leaning on what was once a nice white wall, now smeared with dirt and mud from the duck's jacket. He reaches up with shaking hands and unhooks his gold necklace, holding it out. "Here. Take- take this. It's your gift."
Drake looks at it, surprised, then gingerly shoves it back towards his chest. "Scrooge gave this to you, didn't he? I could never."
That's not the best thing to say. Louie hiccups and drops the necklace as if burned. A sniffle left his beak. Realizing his error, Drake carefully wraps his arm around the duck's shoulder, leading him to the closest bedroom. It's a guest one, but it's as nice and clean and comfy as the rest of their little mansion home. Louie practically faceplants into the sheets.
Drake carefully tucks him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Good night, dearest."
"'M sorry," he mumbles into his pillow. "Love you."
"We'll talk more in the morning," Drake replies, ruffling his cheek feathers. He carefully flips the lights off and vanishes down the hall. He's far too awake to even consider climbing in with him, lest his fidgeting keep him awake.
He flips on the TV, lounging back on the couch. Roxanne Featherly takes front stage on her channel, holding her microphone perhaps a bit closer than needed. "It's been a week since Scrooge McDuck passed on in his sleep," she reports. "The scars left on Duckburg still run deep. Hundreds of people from all across the world flocked to the local taverns tonight to celebrate him, telling wildly conflicting stories about his life."
Drake frowns and turns it off, resisting the urge to toss the remote at the screen. He takes a deep breath in and stands, shambling off to the kitchen. It wouldn't do to leave the steaks out overnight.
Author's Note: I'm kind of fond of Drake being, like, Louie's sugar daddy when he's older lol, once he's grown and learned from his Extremely Concerning Mistakes.
-Mandaree1