Work Text:
Cooper wakes up when his phone pings. He groans and blindly reaches on his bedside table, swiping his phone to the floor. “Oh my gooood!”
He sits up and rubs his eyes, cursing himself for not putting his phone on “do not disturb.” Cooper yawns and gets up, smiling when he checks the screen to see that he has a new text from Nicholas.
Hi Coop, thanks for inviting me over Friday night. I know this is kind of sudden, but can you come over? My plans fell through and you’re pretty much the only person I feel like I can stand being around right now. Nx
Cooper feels his face burn. He has known Nicholas for just over a year. For about half that time they've pretty much lived together, eating and sleeping and showering right beside each other in a double banger trailer.
They have seen every inch of each other; there was only so much the cock socks could cover. After filming the speculative shower scene for Monsters, Cooper had to excuse himself and go to the bathroom in his end of the trailer for a long time.
Cooper’s thumb hovers over the keyboard. Come on, Cooper, this is Nick! He wants to see you, and he’s invited you to his house! Cooper takes a deep breath and types.
Hey Nick! It was a pleasure having you. Sure, I can come over, when were you thinking? Coop
Cooper types an x after his name, then deletes it, and sends the text. Nicholas’ gray dots pulse. Cooper wonders if maybe he’s coming on too strong, or if maybe he should have just kept the x after his name. The anticipation has torn his nerves to shreds by the time Nicholas replies.
Well, I was hoping you could come over like, tonight? As soon as possible? I really need to talk to you. I have food. 🥺
Nicholas texts his address, and Cooper is surprised to see that it’s only about six miles away.
Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon. Coop 🙂
Cooper grabs his keys off the rack on the wall and heads for the elevator, running a hand through his hair.
Cooper’s eyes widen at the massive meal spread out before him. There is a loaf of pre-sliced bread; an assortment of meat: deli slices of chicken, pork, and steak; deli slices of Swiss and cheddar cheese; there are black and refried beans; there is a fruit platter with bananas, mangoes, oranges, and pineapples; a cooker full of saffron rice; and finally, a pan full of caramel flan for dessert.
“Okay, um, wow. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this, but thanks, Nick.” Cooper grins and sits down across from Nicholas. His grin falters when he sees the sullen frown on Nicholas’ face. “Hey, Nick…?”
Nicholas snorts and shrugs. “I had planned this all out because I thought I got the starring role on a new medical drama series, but, as my agent just informed me, I thought wrong.”
Nicholas takes a sip of what looks like a glass of Coke and giggles, slapping his hand on the table with enough force to rattle the glass. He smiles mischievously, leans across the table, and cups his fingers around his mouth, as if he is going to tell Cooper a secret.
“I’ve been drinking Cuba libres since then. That was, oh, about an hour ago?”
“Yikes. Um, okay. Wow.” Cooper stands up and walks around to pick up Nicholas’ plate. “Nick, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you should really eat something. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you.”
Nicholas laughs and touches Cooper’s nose, then the cleft of his upper lip. “Aww, okay. If you say so, Dr. Koch. Wow,” he says energetically, “you’re growing out your stache! I can’t believe it. I mean, it looks good, it makes you look kind of –”
“Straighter?” Cooper has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at the face Nicholas makes. His eyebrows press together, and his lips curve into a thin line. “No,” he says indignantly. “I wasn’t gonna say that! I was gonna say that it makes you look kind of like Payton.”
Nicholas tilts his head and stares at Cooper solemnly. Cooper feels, for a brief moment, like kissing his forehead, but holds off until the feeling passes. He doesn’t want to mess things up between them, because honestly, Nicholas is one of his best friends.
He's sarcastic, sweet, sturdy, and straight. And what is Cooper to Nicholas? Just a colleague, a good friend? Nicholas has told him that he is a good friend, the first real friend he’s made in his transition from daytime to primetime.
Cooper adores the little scribbles Nicholas makes in the corners of his script pages. He takes him out at least once a month for waffles. Nicholas is one of the few people that Cooper can actually sit down with and just talk, in a café or in a park, not in a club where they have to shout at each other to be heard over the music.
“Thanks, I guess. Even though Payton and I are, like, identical twins. C’mon Nick, tell me what you want to eat. I’m not eating one bite until you do.”
Nicholas leans his head on Cooper’s arm and laughs. “Dude, what the heck. I’m not really hungry, but since you insist, I’ll just have some moros y cristianos. Uh, black beans and rice,” he says when Cooper looks at him blankly. “That’s Spanish for ‘Moors and Christians,’ which is pretty racist, now that I think about it.”
“Oh no,” Cooper says, picking up the glass of Cuba libre when he sees Nicholas reach for it. “You’re not gonna get anymore of this. I’ll get you some water.”
“Fine!” Nicholas chirps, rolling his eyes as he sticks his tongue out. “But don’t get it from the tap. I have a Brita filter in the fridge.” Nicholas holds out a finger to point imperiously, as if Cooper can’t see the refrigerator with his own eyes.
“Huh, no shit?” Cooper pours what’s left of the rum and coke cocktail down the drain, struggling not to laugh at Nicholas’ desolate scowl. He has an errant lock of hair on his forehead that has somehow curled. Nicholas pushes it out of his eyes and glowers at Cooper while he takes out the Brita filter and fills the highball glass with purified water.
Cooper puts the glass of water in front of Nicholas, picks up his plate, and scoops a generous helping of black beans and rice on it. “So, ‘moros y cristianos,’ huh? That is pretty racist.”
Nicholas frowns and shrugs. “Yeah, I don’t know. The Moors were, like, the archenemies of the Spanish hundreds of years ago. They hated them, because of their religious differences. Muslims against the Catholics. That prejudice and terminology followed the Spanish conquistadors all the way to Cuba.”
“Ah, well now it makes sense. It’s still racist, and totally not okay, but it makes sense.” Cooper holds a spoonful of black beans and rice to Nicholas’ mouth. “Open wide!"
“Yeah, you wish.” Nicholas smiles dopily and takes the spoon from Cooper, the brush of his fingers on his wrist sending a surge of electricity through Cooper’s body.
Cooper can’t find any words to reply to that, so he doesn't. He takes his own plate and makes himself sandwich, putting two thin slices each of ham and Swiss cheese between two pieces of Cuban bread. Then he adds some moros y cristianos and sits his plate down, going to open the fridge again for the Brita filter.
“You know, you could have just left the filter out, if you were gonna get a glass of water. Just saying.” Nicholas smirks and eats another spoonful.
“Noted.” Cooper mirrors Nicholas’ smirk as he fills his glass with water. “Not that it matters much, but I’ll have you know I’m counting my steps. I’ve got a Fitbit now, and I want to put it to good use. Besides, I’m gonna have to hit the gym hard tomorrow to try to work off some of all these carbs I’m loading up on.” His gaze shifts meaningfully to the flan.
Nicholas pushes the pan to Cooper’s side. “Help yourself, dude. You’re like, what, 150 lbs? I could bench press you, easy.”
Cooper takes a swig of water to stop himself from telling Nicholas to prove it. He sits down and nibbles at his sandwich while Nicholas vents about losing the role.
“I mean, you should see the guy they gave it to. He’s just not good-looking at all. He has a mullet, for god’s sake! What’s that about? What are they going for, Joe Dirt, M.D.?”
“Wow,” Cooper laughs. “Nick, sometimes you are too much. I could get a workout just from all the laughing I do being around you.” His eyes flare widely when he realizes the implications of what he’s just said. “Nick, hey, listen –”
“Yeah?” Nicholas looks at him expectantly. “Try not to let it get to you too much. I know you’re still kind of a newbie in town, but you have to know by now how cutthroat this business is. Try not to take every rejection personally, because it is just business. It’s an endless parade of auditions and meetings and interviews.”
Cooper’s stomach tightens as he remembers some of his own disappointments. For years, he has only gotten bit parts, before bigger roles in two queer films, which was fine, before being cast in Monsters, his breakout role.
He’s spent years of his life studying acting, even getting a degree from the Pace School of Performing Arts in New York. There are still a lot of people who think he’s just a ‘nepo baby,’ that he has only gotten any kind of acclaim or recognition because of his family. Of course, they must be right! He can’t possibly have gotten to where he is through any work of his own.
“Coop? Hey man, are you okay? I think I lost you.” Nicholas snaps his fingers to get Cooper’s attention. “Hey, if you’re doing this to show me how much of a downer I can be when I’m moody, it’s working. Gah, that makes me sound like a douche! I mean…thanks Coop, for being here. And, I want you to know, I’m always here, too, if you need someone to talk to.”
“Thanks, Nick.” Cooper picks up a fork and cuts off a generous piece of flan. “That means a lot.”
Two hours later - after Nicholas has reluctantly gone to bed and Cooper has cleaned the kitchen - he cups running water from the bathroom sink in his hand and splashes it over his face. He looks tired in the bright fluorescent light, almost ghastly. His olive skin looks pale and sickly.
Cooper’s heart feels fluttery when he turns off the light and walks into the hallway. He knows Nicholas won’t mind if he makes some tea and stays for a little while longer. Cooper walks downstairs slowly, not wanting to wake Nicholas.
Down in the living room, there are a few glasses of Cuba libre, half empty, on the coffee table. Cooper sighs and picks them up to pour the leftovers into the kitchen sink. How long did Nicholas say he’d been drinking? Only an hour or so?
Part of Cooper thinks that maybe he should stay the night, sleep on the couch in case Nicholas needs anything during the night. A dark, depressing memory enters his mind of a college friend who drank way too much at a keg party, and then choked on his own vomit and died.
Cooper walks to the front door to make sure the deadbolt is locked. He walks through every room on the house’s first floor, opening every door. Nicholas has a laundry room, a library, a weight room, and a guest bedroom. He sits down on the bed and calls Ari.
She answers on the second ring. “Hello? Cooper, honey, are you okay?” Cooper’s mind goes blank. “Uh yeah, great. How about you?”
“I’m okay,” Ari says lightly. Cooper suddenly realizes that she’s in Boston, and looks at the clock icon on his phone. It’s 10:30 at night in LA, which means it’s 1:30 in the morning there. Cooper chuckles nervously. He can tell by Ari’s tone that she’s tired, being nice, and waiting for him to get to the point.
“Sorry, I forgot you said you were going to see your family for a few weeks. How’s the cold?” He listens as Ari clears her throat before responding. “It’s getting better, little by little. Nyquil’s helping,” she says, and Cooper catches her impatience. She loves him, but she really just wants to go back to sleep.
“That’s good to hear. Listen, I’m sorry for calling so late. I’ll see you when you come back to the city. We’ll get coffee sometime.”
“Sounds good. Goodnight, Cooper.”
“Goodnight.” Cooper hangs up. He gets up, walks back into the living room, and curls up to sleep on the couch.