send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed. NO LONGER ACCEPTING
1. The first time Archer wished he could say it was a surprise. They were at some sort of gala or party. Cohen designed, Ryan funded, the elite of Rapture attended.
Archer of course had gone solo and was drinking his loneliness away. It only took a few stage shows for him decide he’d rather be at home, though when he tried to leave his path was cut off by the host himself!
Demanding and giddy as ever, Cohen brought Archer by the arm back to coat check. Going on about some sort of theme and asking how he liked it. Archer was mostly flabbergasted that Cohen was even talking to him. Then suddenly Archer was yanked down by the tie and given a hot kiss much to the amusement to several other patrons.
By the time Archer had blinked and realized what had happened, Cohen had moved on to other prospects. Leaving Archer mostly confused. At least Mr. Ryan thought Archer’s embarrassment was entertaining.
2. While Ryan and Cohen began to bicker and fight more and more, and Ryan had more work than ever- Archer was tasked with making deliveries and returning calls, something Ryan usually prided himself on doing personally.
One particular delivery left Archer and Cohen alone in his studio while the artist painted. Despite Archer’s attempts to keep him on tasks and sign the release for the package, Cohen would not out of spite. As if every second delayed would tick down Ryan’s lifeforce. Archer was growing flustered and made the mistake of shoving the papers in Cohen’s hands.
The artist jotted down his name silently, eerie, forced the pen back in Archer’s hands. A quick grip of Archer’s hair as he pulled him in for a hot and strangely erotic kiss before pulling away. “Give that to him from me.” He hissed, laughing gaily at Archer’s dismayed reaction.
Archer did NOT forward that message.
3. The pair had had their fling for a while now and Archer had grown to accept the unpredictable affections from the artist. There was no rhyme or reason for when he’d suddenly pull Archer aside, or demand attention. Which Archer was more than willing to give.
It was rare for the pair to meet up anywhere other than Fort Frolic. Cohen was so busy he didn’t leave his studio or stage, and Archer had no social life. So spying the artist in the market was interesting. He was quite dismayed and Archer could see the irritation in his frown lines.
They shared a quick greeting, not wanting to waste time while Cohen was still escorting disciples and show girls in a small crowd. A handshake, a hug… a… kiss. Something men did time to time but this one lingered a little longer, drawing hushed whispers.
When Cohen pulled away that irritated scowl had been replaced with a bright mischievous grin. Patting Archer’s chest and “Sending him off on his way.” That wrist flashed towards his entourage and he was gone again. Leaving Archer to deal with the whispers and gawks. Oh he liked to stir up trouble didn’t he.
4. It was not a good day. Cohen was going through papers of his latest review. Usually stunning remarks had become bored. Calling Cohen’s piece Blase and rehashed old crap. He didn’t even have the hear tto read the letters, making Archer do it while he paced the bedroom.
Finally Archer had had enough of this. Cohen was working himself into a paranoid tizzy and Archer knew how it would end.
He stood from the bed and approached Cohen carefully. Silencing him with a soft and quick kiss. A gentle hand along his back. “Please... don’t think about them. Let me show you how magnificent your work is.”
Despite Archer’s meaning, Cohen did not calm. It did not quell his anger, but it did give him other ideas to expel it. The morning after he was back to creating and managed to conduct an entirely new piece that held the headlines for four whole weeks!
5. The war was on. Ryan had gone off the deep end, labeling everyone a parasite or a smuggler. Unable to listen to Archer’s reasons.
Fleeing Hephaestus , Archer went straight for Fort Frolic. Things were going down and it was rumored Cohen wasn’t doing much better. By now Archer’s hair had turned completely white. The world was going mad!
Bloody, broken, and on his knees. He pleaded with Sander to talk sense into someone. To listen to reason. Alarms blaring with the threat of a lock down. One Cohen had promised and Archer attempted to talk him out of.
One gloved hand cupped Archer’s cheek, pulling him into a hot kiss. Invasive and burning. Teeth biting against his lips and tearing carnivorously at his flesh.
Finally when Cohen pulled away and licked the white blood from his lips. there was a twinkle in his eye and he waved a hand. “scurry away my little mouse... you don’t want to be here when the curtain drops.” Madness in his smile, glimmer in his eyes.
Archer fled and never saw Cohen again.
