Somewhere Out There Is Somebody Chapter 10
Title: Somewhere Out There Is Somebody
Pairing: David Archuleta/David Cook
Summary: AU. David Archuleta is a hopeful teenager struggling in Los Angeles while David Cook is the American Idol living a reality that the younger David has only dreamed about.
Rating: PG-13 as of now. Is subject to change.
Word Count: 6,007
Chapter: 10/?
Disclaimer: All of this is fictional and made for fun. I make no profit off of this or claim any rights. I don't own either David.
Inspired by: Reba McEntire's song and music video "Somebody".
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“Um, Cook, are you sure this is safe?” David asked nervously, holding onto the handle bar. “Because this thing looks like it’s seen one too many rainy days, you know?”
“Nonsense, Arch, this baby has a few more years on it, I’m sure.”
Cook said it as if he was convinced, but the teenager was a bit skeptical. The seesaw that they were on was a heap of rusting metal. How could that possibly be safe?
But he zipped his lips and settled his feet on the ground before pushing up, thinking that even when he was a kid, he’d never really liked these things. There was something about being up in the air, at the mercy of the other person that left him uneasy. But this was Cook so he didn’t have to worry about it.
Besides, if that was what Cook wanted to do, then he wanted to do it too. Because the whole point of this escapade was that they actually manage to hang out for the first time in what felt like forever. Okay, so it’d been about two weeks, but still, that was a long time for David who’d grown accustomed to having the older man being a fixture in his everyday life, sort of sewn into his almost daily routine.
Then Cook had had to go to appearances and perform for people and David knew that it would have been wrong for him to be upset about it, because he wasn’t. He really wasn’t. Because he wasn’t a Cookie hog. And he was happy that Cook got the opportunity to do what he did, so yeah, he was okay with that part. It was just the part that he hadn’t even gotten to celebrate Cook’s birthday with him that left him a little sad. Though, he wouldn’t have wanted to intrude on any party that his family and friends would have thrown for him or something, because that would have been rude and he would have been uncomfortable anyway. It wouldn’t have helped that he had worked a double that day, but he could have at least made an appearance or something, give him a present, wish him a happy birthday, and make his leave.
It hadn’t turned out that way though and the fact of it was, they didn’t even get to see each other on Christmas either so that left David with having to inconspicuously hide two presents around his apartment because he didn’t want his siblings questioning.
Tonight was the first time they were both available. Or rather, it was the first time that Cook was available; David worked a double that day. While his feet were hurting and he probably didn’t smell the best because he’d had an incident with refilling the syrups that morning, it didn’t really faze him. He was with Cook. He couldn’t think of a better way to end his eighteenth birthday.
Yeah, he was an adult now. Was this the part where he was supposed to go ‘whoot, whoot!’ and party hardy as if he was named Marty? If so, well, he hadn’t followed the guidelines. Despite that, though, it was a good birthday, all things considered.
Especially when his fellow co-workers surprised him with a cake. Okay, so it was six in the morning and no one really craved cake at six in the morning, but it was the thought that counted. And while the sight of the frosting churned the teen’s stomach, he did eat the cherry that was on top.
It was one of those gushes-liquid-into-your-mouth sort of cherries and he had been expecting it to be one of those maraschino cherries. So, sputtering a bit not only at the taste but for other reasons, he managed to choke out, “Oh my gosh, I just popped my cherry.”
Needless to say, there wasn’t a dry eye in the diner after that fit of laughter died down. And David felt rather proud of himself, sort of emboldened. Because, um, he kind of, sort of got the implication. And he kind of, sort of meant to say it. Because he was the little David that could. Do whatever he wanted. Within the law.
And it just so happened that what he wanted to do, that new rebellious attitude taking over, was stay out passed curfew simply because he could. Or maybe the real reason was so that he could see Cook, but point was, he was there, in the middle of a park, with the rocker, on the seesaw. Not exactly what he had envisioned, but it worked.
“So, um, how was the, the,” the teen started flailing one arm about, trying to find right word to use but failing, “the thing. Yeah, um, the appearances and stuff?” Not eloquent by any means, but he thought that the older man would get what he meant.
“Awesome as usual,” Cook responded, pushing his feet off the ground to be sent back up in turn. “Walt Disney World was trippy, with the parade and all. Wish I could have taken the nieces and nephews, they would have loved that. One day though.” Then he set his feet back onto the ground, stopping the teetering and tottering and getting off slowly, grabbing onto the seat so that he could lower David to the ground. “Speaking of children, I am certainly not one anymore. That seat was clearly not meant for me or my ass.”
The younger man couldn’t help the snicker. “Gosh, you’re such an old man.”
Cook threw an incredulous look at him. “Archie, making insulting jokes? Wow, was there a metamorphosis or apocalypse or something when I was away?”
David rubbed under his nose. “Ha, I wish. Could have used to grow a few more inches too.”
A familiar, now welcomed arm fell across the length of his shoulders. “Hey, nothing wrong with being short. Or young looking,” He pointed out, pinching playfully at the teen’s cheeks before they were swatted away with a squawk. “At least that way you won’t have some teenage punk calling you old before you hit thirty.”
David caught the accusing, mock-upset glance that was set his way with a lone giggle. “Twenty six isn’t that old. I was kidding. Geez, I didn’t know that your sense of humor went along with all of the rest as you aged.” He was beginning to like this new risqué version of himself who was willing to take risks, while still maintaining his integrity of course. And he was figuring it was bound to blow up in his face here soon, when he actually hurt someone’s feelings.
“Oh!” The teen snapped his fingers in realization before skipping off to grab his bag where he’d left it leaning against the pole of the swing set. “Speaking of your age, I can’t believe I almost forgot.”
Cook stuffed his hands in his pockets from the couple of yards away. “It isn’t a cane, is it?” He asked jokingly. “Because, dude, I’d rather have a wheelchair any day. Requires less energy.”
“Well, aren’t you the lazy one?” David played along, reaching into the backpack for Cook’s actual present. “Aha, found it!” He whirled his head around to face the older man, only to intake a breath when he came face to face with him, somehow missing when the other man had come over to him, kneeling down beside him.
Cook was staring at him intently. Like, well, like he had a purpose, obviously, and like he was about to pursue it. David’s breaths were stalling and his stomach churned uneasily. After a few moments, green gazing into hazel, there was, there was nothing. Which just left the teenager confused, holding up the book that he held in his hands in front of his mouth, wondering if perhaps he was seeing things, seeing what he wanted to see. Crimson in the face, he asked, “Um, is there, um, something on my face?”
“No, no, there’s not,” Cook said, his voice oddly distant, his eyes gleaming with something unidentifiable until he looked down at the book in David’s hands, pointing at it and then to himself. “For me?”
David shook off the weird feeling and smiled, offering the word search to his friend. “Um, yeah. You know, for your birthday and all. I know, it’s not much, but you said that you liked movies, and um, words. So, yeah, thought it was, uh, appropriate? Yeah, appropriate.” It was a huge book of thousands of crossword puzzles that were based off movies. Maybe it was a bit lame, but he’d spent hours trying to think of something that he could get the older man. Literally, he probably wound up spending hours looking through one store or another and nothing had just smacked him in the face. He knew what Cook liked. Music, movies, the usual. But, he had his fair share of both. So, tada, thus the puzzles.
“Besides, I thought you could, I don’t know, use it or something, when you go on tour and you have nothing else to do. Though, you’ll be super busy I’m sure, but yeah, for the trips there and stuff, maybe you could find some use for them?” He continued on, feeling more and more unconfident by the second. Because Cook wasn’t saying anything. Yeah, emboldened!David? He was gone already.
“Oh yeah, yeah, definitely,” The older man finally said, reaching out to take the present from David’s fingers, grinning brightly at him. “Thanks. Really.” Cook examined the book, turning it from front to back and then looking through some of the pages.
David shrugged dismissively and sat up from the ground because he was getting sand in his shoes, sitting down on one of the seats. And it wasn’t long before Cook was taking one beside him.
The younger man sighed, frowning before picking at his fingernails, glancing over at the puzzle book that Cook had put on the ground next to him. “Sorry it’s not much. I, I didn’t know what to get you.” He fiddled with his thumbs. “I mean, I could have just asked, I do suppose. But, yeah, that wouldn’t have been any fun, not that it was fun to search and search like I did, though I came out empty-handed anyway, I couldn’t find anything that was just screaming you that was really cool, besides some guitars, but, um, you, like, have a number of those already, you know? So I didn’t think that if I gave you one you would even really find a use for it and there was no point in that when I could find something that was useful.” David scrunched his nose. “Not that a crossword puzzle is all that useful, I guess, but I thought, hey, it was something that you could at least use, maybe not for long since you seem to be a whiz at those things since you said that you do them a lot. On Idol? And oh my gosh, I didn’t even think that you may already have it!”
Oh heck. Cook did fill them out all of the time, so he totally could have already grabbed this thing and done it already, and who wanted to do them twice? Ugh, why did he always have to think of these sort of things after the fact? He was so ditzy sometimes. And he was oblivious. And naïve. And sometimes he felt like he was verging on stupid and would he ever be able to do anything right? “If you have it already, um, I’ll just buy you something else. Ack, I can’t believe I di-”
A hand covered his mouth, and, oh good gosh, Cook was turning his head before leaning his forehead into what had to be an uncomfortable position on David’s temple, and it was like, the closest that the two of them had ever been in proximity, breaths mingling with each other, Cook’s normal while David’s were starting to verge on a bit wheezy while his eyes moved to the side to look at the older man. Um, hello pretty eyes.
“Stop berating yourself. The present’s amazing, seriously. I’m going to need some form of entertainment. Never have been good with sleeping in moving vehicles.” Cook’s gaze remained steady. David could feel it even as he attempted to glance elsewhere, which just so happened to be the night sky, stars visible but not bright due to the city lights.
“Oh, uh, t-that’s good.” David was fighting with his eyeballs then, constantly reminding them to not, under any circumstances, look back over at the rocker. At this distance, it was too dangerous to do so. Cook was always a perceptive person and he was surprised that the older man hadn’t figured it already. Though, he could have, and just decided to opt out of saying anything because he didn’t want to have to address it. If that was the case, the teenager couldn’t blame him. For the younger man, it was hard to hide his feelings sometimes. He thought that they were out there in the open, practically, since he was clueless on how to mask them. Sometimes, he wondered if it would just be better to get it all over with, spurt out his feelings, see what happened, because well, one could never know. But then, he thought about it, really thought about it, and decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.
He would rather find a way to cope with his far from platonic feelings, his puppy crush or whatever it was, he couldn’t really properly identify it since he’d never felt anything like this before, than chance losing Cook. So he always chickened out when the opportunity arose, when the two of them were engaged in serious conversation, discussing their futures, what they wanted them to be like, stuff like that. He was already aware that whatever it was that he wanted, he dreamed of, it was always going to be far from his reality anyway. Cook didn’t like him, not in the way that David liked him, and the teenager was going to have to deal with it, not let it affect his friendship with the man.
David bit on his lower lip, took a deep breath, and finally turned to Cook.
Just in time to find the older man with that look in his eye again, that one that the teenager couldn’t recognize, one that he could only compare to little kids when they spotted a huge triple chocolate cake at the grocery store that they had to have but were unsure if they should ask their parents if they could have it. But that was a bad analogy, surely, because it wouldn’t make sense for his friend to look at him like that.
David took notice that Cook was looking a bit pasty in the face, but that could be the light that was upon them, a mixture of the moon and light posts. But there was no reason for the way his eyes were glazed over, fluttering a bit so the lids were half-closed, the older man adopting a David-esque move and running his tongue along the bottom of his lips. Like he was nervous or something.
“Um, Cook, are you okay? You don’t, you don’t look so well,” David stated once the older man began to sway towards his direction, like he was going to collapse onto the younger man. Maybe he was getting sick? That could explain his behavior, that was for sure. “Gosh, you didn’t, like, say that it was okay to hang out despite feeling under the weather, did you?” That would be awful and David would feel so bad and gosh, Cook didn’t have to do that. If he wasn’t feeling well, they could have hung out another time or, he didn’t know, maybe he could have brought over chicken noodle soup or something? Instead of having him out here in the cold. Okay, so compared to Utah, Los Angeles was nothing, and despite being well into the winter season, there was no snow on the ground, but there was still a slight chill that made it jacket-required weather. And he knew that the older man liked them, but leather jackets were not going to cut it.
Something else flashed in the depths of green, almost a look of defeat, Cook’s head jerking back before he flashed a smile. “No worries, I’m in tip top shape. Well, actually,” The older man gripped at his stomach. “I could afford to lose a few more pounds of the tub, but I’m doing fine physically.” After a few moments, as if he was wondering if it was something that should even be said, he added, “Just, just a little disheartened is all.” Then he was stroking at his scruff, a half-smile, half-frown playing on his face.
Well, the freshly made adult was definitely thrown off by that, there being no further elaboration of why it was that he was disheartened. Was Cook having personal issues? Maybe there was something going on at the record company that he wasn’t pleased with? He had seemed to be his normal, cheery self most of the time that night, but perhaps he was good at hiding what he felt, a direct comparison to his companion. David could believe that because he was sometimes left wondering what it was the older man was feeling, what he was thinking, what that glint in his eye that appeared from time to time really meant.
“Oh.” What else was he supposed to say, to do? Apologize? For what? He wasn’t really sure what was going on, kicking at the sand beneath his feet.
“So, I’m not clever like you are, to think of bringing a bag along, but your present wouldn’t have fit in there anyway, so you’re going to have to drop by my house sometime soon to get it.”
“Wha?”
“Tsk, tsk,” Cook wagged his finger in front of David’s face disapprovingly. “You seem to have no confidence in me, Arch. As if I didn’t know that today was your birthday. You told me so, remember? The twenty eighth.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t expect you to actually remember it,” the teenager was blurting out before he could stop himself. Yeah, he had this problem sometimes where he didn’t have that filter covering his brain so that he would actually think about things before he said them. Monica called it diarrhea of the mouth, but, um, that was a gross way of describing it, he personally preferred the filter sort of metaphor. He just wished that they sold said filters at stores or something. But since they didn’t, he would just have to learn to mend his words. “I mean, wow, that sounded bad. I meant that, you know, you know a lot of people and, like, you probably have been told their birthdays too, so I just, I guess I wouldn’t expect you to remember mine out of all of them.”
And, yeah, the look that Cook gave him after that? It sent something akin to a lightning bolt through his spine, penetrating through him like an electrifying jolt.
He squirmed in the swing, starting to pump his legs slowly, enough so that he could still talk to the older man without trouble, looking ahead of him. “So, um, I guess that means you have a good memory? Glad that isn’t shot yet,” He tried to joke, but it came out rather flat and unsettling.
And then there’s this arm that’s reaching out to grip onto the chains of the swing, effectively putting his leg pumping to a halt and soon his seat was being swung sideways by hands that were stronger than he would have originally thought.
David gulped and he could have sworn that he could hear his heart beating at an alarming rate. He licked his lips nervously, his smile questioning.
“Arch, of course I’d remember your birthday,” Cook stated and his eyebrows are furrowed downwards like he’s stung that David would have thought otherwise. “You’re my friend.”
David knew that. He did. And he felt like crud for saying what he did now, but even he forgot some people’s birthdays so he just, well, he just shouldn’t have said anything he supposed. “I, I know that. I guess I…I know that.” He fell to a whisper, suddenly flushed, focusing his gaze on the hands he gathered onto his lap.
A calloused hand tilted his chin upwards, forcing him to stare into Cook’s smoldering gaze that was creating this weird fire-y sensation in the pit of his stomach and David wanted to chug water down or something to not only distinguish the flames, but to also clear his airway where his heart had caught in his throat.
“Friends, that’s what we are, right?” Cook inquired, the question coated with sensitivity but also hinting that there was more to the question than what was one the surface.
And David really wished he could figure out what it was, knowing that his response was going to be analyzed. Something he didn’t understand was how this conversation had taken this spin. It was dizzying. He chomped down on his lip, nodding meekly. “Of course we’re friends, Cook.” His smile rang a little more true as it twitched upwards. “I like to think we’re good friends.” Maybe that was a bit presumptuous of him, but Cook had once said that he wanted to know more about him, right? And they did spend a lot of time together, when they could that is, so couldn’t they qualify as that? Maybe, perhaps? Or perhaps that was too much to hope for too.
“We are good friends.” Cook doesn’t even hesitate and it’s totally unfair because David’s thinking that he may just start hyperventilating at this sudden closeness that he’s experienced before with the older man but somehow, this was different and again he didn’t know why. It was times like these that the teenager would like to have a better grasp of social situations and how to read them, but, no, instead he’s spent most of his life avoiding people, so go figure that when he actually spent time with them that he would be completely lost.
“Right. So, uh, I guess, I guess friends, good friends, they…they know stuff about each other, like birthdays and such,” David was trying his hardest not to breathe in a raspy manner.
Or to breathe on Cook, who was making his way closer to David’s face. Um. Uh. Wha? He was half-tempted to tell the older man to stop doing that because he hadn’t brushed his teeth since that morning and who knows how gross it was. Even if that burger he’d had for lunch was devoid of onions, it may not smell pleasant. Dang it, he should have taken that piece of gum that Monica offered to him.
He doesn’t say anything about it though. Something apparently was listening to him because his intuition told him that it would be a moment killer, bringing up plausible bad breath at a time like this.
So he stayed silent instead, letting his eyes do the talking for him while they widened in surprise, Cook’s hand coming to rest on his cheek. David just knew that his face was giving away what he was currently thinking, which were things like oh my good gosh! and oh my heck! with oh my heck, what’s he doing, oh my gosh thrown into the mix.
Cook’s eyes were searching about his face and David wondered if he was finding what he was seeking, part of him knowing, somehow knowing, that he wanted the older man to. “Eighteen, huh?” His voice was distant and his expressionless face didn’t help give anything away. “Feel any different, now that you’re an adult?”
“Not really,” The words eased out of David smoothly. “I, I feel the same. I, uh, I thought for awhile that it may be a bit empowering, you know? But, I think I’m cursed with being spacey, awkward David forever.” And he laughed like it was funny, when really, it was more like there were these anxious, excited, nervous bubbles that were floating about inside of him that needed to be released before he popped.
Smile small yet comforting, Cook made use of his thumb, gently tracing over the bottom of the younger man’s jaw, causing David’s already raggedy breaths to hitch. “Doesn’t sound like a curse to me.”
The redness of the younger man’s cheeks was becoming an epidemic of sorts, the heat inching its way to his neck. Knowing that if he were to talk then that he would wind up sputtering all over his words his tongue was so tied, he simply let his smile widen. It was rather skeptical and nervous still, but it was bright nonetheless, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering around like they were helicopter wings.
“Eighteen,” Cook repeated. “That makes you an adult now. Well, only legally I suppose. I think you’ve qualified as an adult maturity wise for awhile now.”
David wasn’t so sure about that. In fact, he’s convinced that really, he had a lot of growing up to do yet, despite his situation. There was a lot more life for him to experience yet. He kind of felt like a work in progress, a rough draft, in a metaphorical sense. Like there was something missing that would correct his errors. And he was pretty sure that it was that confidence that he was working on. To him, that was something an adult should be, confident of themselves.
Besides, another thing that led him to believe that he was a work in progress was that he couldn’t define himself. Who was David Archuleta? Sure, there were ways that he could answer that, but not one that he wanted to stick to him for the rest of his life.
Because he was compelled to and because it somehow felt right to do so, the waiter managed to speak, fighting against the tightening that was wrapped around his entire body, “Well, there are a few differences. I can, like, go to the clubs and stuff with you now.” He was going for humor because the rock star being all serious like he was was leaving the younger man on edge. Quite literally. “But, I’m going to have to pass on the, um, the ones where people won’t be fully clothed at. Sorry.”
Cook followed along with him in the lighting of the conversation. “Not wanting to see exposed women, huh? Damn, Archie, that means I have to throw away those Playboys I bought for you. What a waste.” The hand on that was on David’s jaw line was tiptoeing its way upwards to the cheekbone, dancing across it with feathery fingertips. The gentleness sent tingles all the way to David’s toes that were beginning to curl in what was possibly anticipation.
The grin across Cook’s face was probably the only thing keeping the teenager from spontaneously imploding. “Oh gosh,” David only then realized that he’d been holding onto the chains of the swing so tightly that his knuckles were turning white as if he was using it as the only thing keeping him grounded onto the earth. “You don’t, you don’t, um, you don’t really read those, do you?” His nose was scrunched up in distaste.
“That’s nonsense, Arch,” Cook responded. Which David was glad for because, okay, so it obviously wasn’t something that would appeal to him, the sight of naked women, but it would have been a little weird for him to think that the older man did. “You don’t read Playboys, you admire the view.” The older man’s lips curled into a toothy grin.
And Cook’s guffaw that followed his companion’s reaction was loud and as goofy as his response. David was not as amused, made clear by the way his mouth fell open. “Cook, that’s not even funny,” He squealed, embarrassed to hear the words while the one who’d said them was highly entertained.
But then the taller man began to calm, going back to his bizarre mapping of David’s face, large smile in place. “I kid, I kid.”
Silence proceeded to surround them and David didn’t know about Cook, but it served as a wool blanket that was nearly suffocating him. His nerves were being set aflame by all of this oddly placed tension and sensations were resulting out of the caress of tender fingertips.
David had to do something before he simply died. And dying on his birthday did not sound fun. Would make for an interesting tombstone, maybe, but no, just no, that was not the way that he was planning on going. So the younger man reached his hand outwards, a trembling limb that was unsure of what it was doing but moving forward anyways, settling on the top of Cook’s hairline. Okay, his hand had awful aim because it totally missed its destination by a clear mile, but David maintained calm, going with the flow for once in his life.
Since it was rather funky to keep his hand where it was, he willed it to crawl upward into the brown locks, entangling gently to some of the strands. He was so wrapped up in focusing on getting his hand to the right spot, not wanting it to go to Cook’s nose or something, that he couldn’t begin to guess how the older man was feeling about his sudden actions. Or maybe he remained wrapped up even after the fact because he didn’t really want to think about it. He would have been likely to shrink away if he thought about it because he was always so unsure, always so questioning, always second guessing. That wasn’t going to get him anywhere when it came to this. Whatever that was. It remained unclear at that moment.
But oh was the teenager ever tuned in to the hand that was becoming acquainted with his hip, probably making it easier for Cook to hold him in place since he was still tilted in an angled direction for the two of them to be facing.
That was when David locked his eyes with Cook’s, finding that they were already geared in his direction. And while most say that before it happened one felt breaths, heard heartbeats, saw stars or sparkles or whatever, the next thing the teenager knew was well, the fact that all these years, he’d really been missing out.
Their shoulders nudged against each other, chests bumping, but all he honed in on was the lips that were merging with his own delicately. Until then, he’d always wondered what it felt like, a kiss that is, but he’d never had the gall to ask. But now he could say that he knew. He finally knew. Well, he could only speak for Cook’s lips, but to him, it was like a marshmallow. Or like bubble gum without the sticky. Or maybe it could be said that it was like a pillow of flesh.
Whatever. Point was, the lips that were covering his own were soft. But paradoxically rough. And scruffy. Definitely scruffy. Though, that was due to Cook’s stubble, and it was in that moment that David decided that he liked facial hair. It was nice. And so was kissing. Kissing was nice. Really nice.
He had no clue what he was doing, but the older man turned out to be a good teacher, so he followed his lead, their mouths tilting against each other to accommodate for their noses. Before he could feel like he had the basics down for this new experience, he discovered that kisses could also be quite abrupt and way too short.
But the contact was enough to leave his breathing frazzled and his head spinning. That? Wow. Harlequin novels did not do that justice. All of the blood in his body seemed to be in his face and he kind of like he was on the clouds, floating quite merrily.
Though, underneath that merriment, there was that spark of disbelief. Because, whoa, did that totally just happen? That wasn’t another one of his dreams, was it? No, no way. That was far better than anything he could have dreamt up. He was left affected, mind reeling, even as Cook leaned his forehead onto the younger man’s.
It was then that David could feel the breaths of the other. Smell it too. It wasn’t minty. There really was nothing he could compare it too. He knew it didn’t smell bad though, which left him way self-conscious, but he didn’t hear Cook voicing complaints, and his pushing closer had to mean something positive, right? Right.
A hand marginally larger than his own covered the one that he had placed on the chains of the swing, engulfing it warmly.
This silence was comfortable, but there was a question that was begging to be asked and well, David was dying to know. “So, um,” It was a bit awkward, he had to admit, talking to Cook after they had, well, after they had had a different sort of physical contact than he was used to. “Uh, does this mean,” He felt sheepish and silly to ask, but he had to know. “Does this mean we’re dating?” Of course, he was careful with his selection of the phrase. No way was he going to fall for the same play of words twice. Licking at his once-chapsticked lips, now dry, lips, his face was lit up with a new glow.
“No.”
Wait, what?! David succumbed to his spiraling thoughts, because, um, he may be new to this whole thing, but didn’t kisses normally mean something? Because, to the younger man, they were supposed to represent something passed that ‘friends’ stage. It meant that yeah, they could be a couple or whatever. He thought that, well, he thought that the older man kissing him meant, you know, that he felt the same way and stuff, that he wasn’t the only one that experienced that heart flip that occurred all of the time when the other man was around. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but he was feeling cheated of something there. His lips had just been de-virginized, okay, and if it didn’t have to mean anything, well, that wasn’t going to work with him.
In his opinion, they should go back to the good ol’ days when that sort of thing meant that they had to marry or whatever. Yeah, he was pretty sure that was centuries ago and that was when they engaged in something far, far more intimate than a kiss, but this was a big deal to him and while, okay, and while he didn’t want the older man to feel obligated to take their relationship further, well, well, it would have been nice for the other man to not toy with him like that. It kind of, no, it really hurt. He never would have thought that Cook was like that and-
“Does that work for you?”
“Huh?” David blinked with a blurred vision.
The older man’s smile was so welcoming, so heartfelt, so reverent that it left the younger man bewildered. “I said no, not yet.” The feeling that took over David’s very core was as fuzzy as the scruff that brushed across his forehead gingerly and his eyes couldn’t tear away from the ones that came back to greet his with a newfound sentimentality. A pinky wrapped around the teen’s rather snugly, an unsaid promise of things to come. “But I think, I think we should start. And I asked if seven o’clock this next Monday worked for you?”
It was safe to say that that night? Went down as the best he’d had up to that point. There really was no competition.Embarking on this journey called adulthood, he couldn’t think of how it could have been possible for him to have started it on a better foot. Or with a better guide.
Pairing: David Archuleta/David Cook
Summary: AU. David Archuleta is a hopeful teenager struggling in Los Angeles while David Cook is the American Idol living a reality that the younger David has only dreamed about.
Rating: PG-13 as of now. Is subject to change.
Word Count: 6,007
Chapter: 10/?
Disclaimer: All of this is fictional and made for fun. I make no profit off of this or claim any rights. I don't own either David.
Inspired by: Reba McEntire's song and music video "Somebody".
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“Um, Cook, are you sure this is safe?” David asked nervously, holding onto the handle bar. “Because this thing looks like it’s seen one too many rainy days, you know?”
“Nonsense, Arch, this baby has a few more years on it, I’m sure.”
Cook said it as if he was convinced, but the teenager was a bit skeptical. The seesaw that they were on was a heap of rusting metal. How could that possibly be safe?
But he zipped his lips and settled his feet on the ground before pushing up, thinking that even when he was a kid, he’d never really liked these things. There was something about being up in the air, at the mercy of the other person that left him uneasy. But this was Cook so he didn’t have to worry about it.
Besides, if that was what Cook wanted to do, then he wanted to do it too. Because the whole point of this escapade was that they actually manage to hang out for the first time in what felt like forever. Okay, so it’d been about two weeks, but still, that was a long time for David who’d grown accustomed to having the older man being a fixture in his everyday life, sort of sewn into his almost daily routine.
Then Cook had had to go to appearances and perform for people and David knew that it would have been wrong for him to be upset about it, because he wasn’t. He really wasn’t. Because he wasn’t a Cookie hog. And he was happy that Cook got the opportunity to do what he did, so yeah, he was okay with that part. It was just the part that he hadn’t even gotten to celebrate Cook’s birthday with him that left him a little sad. Though, he wouldn’t have wanted to intrude on any party that his family and friends would have thrown for him or something, because that would have been rude and he would have been uncomfortable anyway. It wouldn’t have helped that he had worked a double that day, but he could have at least made an appearance or something, give him a present, wish him a happy birthday, and make his leave.
It hadn’t turned out that way though and the fact of it was, they didn’t even get to see each other on Christmas either so that left David with having to inconspicuously hide two presents around his apartment because he didn’t want his siblings questioning.
Tonight was the first time they were both available. Or rather, it was the first time that Cook was available; David worked a double that day. While his feet were hurting and he probably didn’t smell the best because he’d had an incident with refilling the syrups that morning, it didn’t really faze him. He was with Cook. He couldn’t think of a better way to end his eighteenth birthday.
Yeah, he was an adult now. Was this the part where he was supposed to go ‘whoot, whoot!’ and party hardy as if he was named Marty? If so, well, he hadn’t followed the guidelines. Despite that, though, it was a good birthday, all things considered.
Especially when his fellow co-workers surprised him with a cake. Okay, so it was six in the morning and no one really craved cake at six in the morning, but it was the thought that counted. And while the sight of the frosting churned the teen’s stomach, he did eat the cherry that was on top.
It was one of those gushes-liquid-into-your-mouth sort of cherries and he had been expecting it to be one of those maraschino cherries. So, sputtering a bit not only at the taste but for other reasons, he managed to choke out, “Oh my gosh, I just popped my cherry.”
Needless to say, there wasn’t a dry eye in the diner after that fit of laughter died down. And David felt rather proud of himself, sort of emboldened. Because, um, he kind of, sort of got the implication. And he kind of, sort of meant to say it. Because he was the little David that could. Do whatever he wanted. Within the law.
And it just so happened that what he wanted to do, that new rebellious attitude taking over, was stay out passed curfew simply because he could. Or maybe the real reason was so that he could see Cook, but point was, he was there, in the middle of a park, with the rocker, on the seesaw. Not exactly what he had envisioned, but it worked.
“So, um, how was the, the,” the teen started flailing one arm about, trying to find right word to use but failing, “the thing. Yeah, um, the appearances and stuff?” Not eloquent by any means, but he thought that the older man would get what he meant.
“Awesome as usual,” Cook responded, pushing his feet off the ground to be sent back up in turn. “Walt Disney World was trippy, with the parade and all. Wish I could have taken the nieces and nephews, they would have loved that. One day though.” Then he set his feet back onto the ground, stopping the teetering and tottering and getting off slowly, grabbing onto the seat so that he could lower David to the ground. “Speaking of children, I am certainly not one anymore. That seat was clearly not meant for me or my ass.”
The younger man couldn’t help the snicker. “Gosh, you’re such an old man.”
Cook threw an incredulous look at him. “Archie, making insulting jokes? Wow, was there a metamorphosis or apocalypse or something when I was away?”
David rubbed under his nose. “Ha, I wish. Could have used to grow a few more inches too.”
A familiar, now welcomed arm fell across the length of his shoulders. “Hey, nothing wrong with being short. Or young looking,” He pointed out, pinching playfully at the teen’s cheeks before they were swatted away with a squawk. “At least that way you won’t have some teenage punk calling you old before you hit thirty.”
David caught the accusing, mock-upset glance that was set his way with a lone giggle. “Twenty six isn’t that old. I was kidding. Geez, I didn’t know that your sense of humor went along with all of the rest as you aged.” He was beginning to like this new risqué version of himself who was willing to take risks, while still maintaining his integrity of course. And he was figuring it was bound to blow up in his face here soon, when he actually hurt someone’s feelings.
“Oh!” The teen snapped his fingers in realization before skipping off to grab his bag where he’d left it leaning against the pole of the swing set. “Speaking of your age, I can’t believe I almost forgot.”
Cook stuffed his hands in his pockets from the couple of yards away. “It isn’t a cane, is it?” He asked jokingly. “Because, dude, I’d rather have a wheelchair any day. Requires less energy.”
“Well, aren’t you the lazy one?” David played along, reaching into the backpack for Cook’s actual present. “Aha, found it!” He whirled his head around to face the older man, only to intake a breath when he came face to face with him, somehow missing when the other man had come over to him, kneeling down beside him.
Cook was staring at him intently. Like, well, like he had a purpose, obviously, and like he was about to pursue it. David’s breaths were stalling and his stomach churned uneasily. After a few moments, green gazing into hazel, there was, there was nothing. Which just left the teenager confused, holding up the book that he held in his hands in front of his mouth, wondering if perhaps he was seeing things, seeing what he wanted to see. Crimson in the face, he asked, “Um, is there, um, something on my face?”
“No, no, there’s not,” Cook said, his voice oddly distant, his eyes gleaming with something unidentifiable until he looked down at the book in David’s hands, pointing at it and then to himself. “For me?”
David shook off the weird feeling and smiled, offering the word search to his friend. “Um, yeah. You know, for your birthday and all. I know, it’s not much, but you said that you liked movies, and um, words. So, yeah, thought it was, uh, appropriate? Yeah, appropriate.” It was a huge book of thousands of crossword puzzles that were based off movies. Maybe it was a bit lame, but he’d spent hours trying to think of something that he could get the older man. Literally, he probably wound up spending hours looking through one store or another and nothing had just smacked him in the face. He knew what Cook liked. Music, movies, the usual. But, he had his fair share of both. So, tada, thus the puzzles.
“Besides, I thought you could, I don’t know, use it or something, when you go on tour and you have nothing else to do. Though, you’ll be super busy I’m sure, but yeah, for the trips there and stuff, maybe you could find some use for them?” He continued on, feeling more and more unconfident by the second. Because Cook wasn’t saying anything. Yeah, emboldened!David? He was gone already.
“Oh yeah, yeah, definitely,” The older man finally said, reaching out to take the present from David’s fingers, grinning brightly at him. “Thanks. Really.” Cook examined the book, turning it from front to back and then looking through some of the pages.
David shrugged dismissively and sat up from the ground because he was getting sand in his shoes, sitting down on one of the seats. And it wasn’t long before Cook was taking one beside him.
The younger man sighed, frowning before picking at his fingernails, glancing over at the puzzle book that Cook had put on the ground next to him. “Sorry it’s not much. I, I didn’t know what to get you.” He fiddled with his thumbs. “I mean, I could have just asked, I do suppose. But, yeah, that wouldn’t have been any fun, not that it was fun to search and search like I did, though I came out empty-handed anyway, I couldn’t find anything that was just screaming you that was really cool, besides some guitars, but, um, you, like, have a number of those already, you know? So I didn’t think that if I gave you one you would even really find a use for it and there was no point in that when I could find something that was useful.” David scrunched his nose. “Not that a crossword puzzle is all that useful, I guess, but I thought, hey, it was something that you could at least use, maybe not for long since you seem to be a whiz at those things since you said that you do them a lot. On Idol? And oh my gosh, I didn’t even think that you may already have it!”
Oh heck. Cook did fill them out all of the time, so he totally could have already grabbed this thing and done it already, and who wanted to do them twice? Ugh, why did he always have to think of these sort of things after the fact? He was so ditzy sometimes. And he was oblivious. And naïve. And sometimes he felt like he was verging on stupid and would he ever be able to do anything right? “If you have it already, um, I’ll just buy you something else. Ack, I can’t believe I di-”
A hand covered his mouth, and, oh good gosh, Cook was turning his head before leaning his forehead into what had to be an uncomfortable position on David’s temple, and it was like, the closest that the two of them had ever been in proximity, breaths mingling with each other, Cook’s normal while David’s were starting to verge on a bit wheezy while his eyes moved to the side to look at the older man. Um, hello pretty eyes.
“Stop berating yourself. The present’s amazing, seriously. I’m going to need some form of entertainment. Never have been good with sleeping in moving vehicles.” Cook’s gaze remained steady. David could feel it even as he attempted to glance elsewhere, which just so happened to be the night sky, stars visible but not bright due to the city lights.
“Oh, uh, t-that’s good.” David was fighting with his eyeballs then, constantly reminding them to not, under any circumstances, look back over at the rocker. At this distance, it was too dangerous to do so. Cook was always a perceptive person and he was surprised that the older man hadn’t figured it already. Though, he could have, and just decided to opt out of saying anything because he didn’t want to have to address it. If that was the case, the teenager couldn’t blame him. For the younger man, it was hard to hide his feelings sometimes. He thought that they were out there in the open, practically, since he was clueless on how to mask them. Sometimes, he wondered if it would just be better to get it all over with, spurt out his feelings, see what happened, because well, one could never know. But then, he thought about it, really thought about it, and decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.
He would rather find a way to cope with his far from platonic feelings, his puppy crush or whatever it was, he couldn’t really properly identify it since he’d never felt anything like this before, than chance losing Cook. So he always chickened out when the opportunity arose, when the two of them were engaged in serious conversation, discussing their futures, what they wanted them to be like, stuff like that. He was already aware that whatever it was that he wanted, he dreamed of, it was always going to be far from his reality anyway. Cook didn’t like him, not in the way that David liked him, and the teenager was going to have to deal with it, not let it affect his friendship with the man.
David bit on his lower lip, took a deep breath, and finally turned to Cook.
Just in time to find the older man with that look in his eye again, that one that the teenager couldn’t recognize, one that he could only compare to little kids when they spotted a huge triple chocolate cake at the grocery store that they had to have but were unsure if they should ask their parents if they could have it. But that was a bad analogy, surely, because it wouldn’t make sense for his friend to look at him like that.
David took notice that Cook was looking a bit pasty in the face, but that could be the light that was upon them, a mixture of the moon and light posts. But there was no reason for the way his eyes were glazed over, fluttering a bit so the lids were half-closed, the older man adopting a David-esque move and running his tongue along the bottom of his lips. Like he was nervous or something.
“Um, Cook, are you okay? You don’t, you don’t look so well,” David stated once the older man began to sway towards his direction, like he was going to collapse onto the younger man. Maybe he was getting sick? That could explain his behavior, that was for sure. “Gosh, you didn’t, like, say that it was okay to hang out despite feeling under the weather, did you?” That would be awful and David would feel so bad and gosh, Cook didn’t have to do that. If he wasn’t feeling well, they could have hung out another time or, he didn’t know, maybe he could have brought over chicken noodle soup or something? Instead of having him out here in the cold. Okay, so compared to Utah, Los Angeles was nothing, and despite being well into the winter season, there was no snow on the ground, but there was still a slight chill that made it jacket-required weather. And he knew that the older man liked them, but leather jackets were not going to cut it.
Something else flashed in the depths of green, almost a look of defeat, Cook’s head jerking back before he flashed a smile. “No worries, I’m in tip top shape. Well, actually,” The older man gripped at his stomach. “I could afford to lose a few more pounds of the tub, but I’m doing fine physically.” After a few moments, as if he was wondering if it was something that should even be said, he added, “Just, just a little disheartened is all.” Then he was stroking at his scruff, a half-smile, half-frown playing on his face.
Well, the freshly made adult was definitely thrown off by that, there being no further elaboration of why it was that he was disheartened. Was Cook having personal issues? Maybe there was something going on at the record company that he wasn’t pleased with? He had seemed to be his normal, cheery self most of the time that night, but perhaps he was good at hiding what he felt, a direct comparison to his companion. David could believe that because he was sometimes left wondering what it was the older man was feeling, what he was thinking, what that glint in his eye that appeared from time to time really meant.
“Oh.” What else was he supposed to say, to do? Apologize? For what? He wasn’t really sure what was going on, kicking at the sand beneath his feet.
“So, I’m not clever like you are, to think of bringing a bag along, but your present wouldn’t have fit in there anyway, so you’re going to have to drop by my house sometime soon to get it.”
“Wha?”
“Tsk, tsk,” Cook wagged his finger in front of David’s face disapprovingly. “You seem to have no confidence in me, Arch. As if I didn’t know that today was your birthday. You told me so, remember? The twenty eighth.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t expect you to actually remember it,” the teenager was blurting out before he could stop himself. Yeah, he had this problem sometimes where he didn’t have that filter covering his brain so that he would actually think about things before he said them. Monica called it diarrhea of the mouth, but, um, that was a gross way of describing it, he personally preferred the filter sort of metaphor. He just wished that they sold said filters at stores or something. But since they didn’t, he would just have to learn to mend his words. “I mean, wow, that sounded bad. I meant that, you know, you know a lot of people and, like, you probably have been told their birthdays too, so I just, I guess I wouldn’t expect you to remember mine out of all of them.”
And, yeah, the look that Cook gave him after that? It sent something akin to a lightning bolt through his spine, penetrating through him like an electrifying jolt.
He squirmed in the swing, starting to pump his legs slowly, enough so that he could still talk to the older man without trouble, looking ahead of him. “So, um, I guess that means you have a good memory? Glad that isn’t shot yet,” He tried to joke, but it came out rather flat and unsettling.
And then there’s this arm that’s reaching out to grip onto the chains of the swing, effectively putting his leg pumping to a halt and soon his seat was being swung sideways by hands that were stronger than he would have originally thought.
David gulped and he could have sworn that he could hear his heart beating at an alarming rate. He licked his lips nervously, his smile questioning.
“Arch, of course I’d remember your birthday,” Cook stated and his eyebrows are furrowed downwards like he’s stung that David would have thought otherwise. “You’re my friend.”
David knew that. He did. And he felt like crud for saying what he did now, but even he forgot some people’s birthdays so he just, well, he just shouldn’t have said anything he supposed. “I, I know that. I guess I…I know that.” He fell to a whisper, suddenly flushed, focusing his gaze on the hands he gathered onto his lap.
A calloused hand tilted his chin upwards, forcing him to stare into Cook’s smoldering gaze that was creating this weird fire-y sensation in the pit of his stomach and David wanted to chug water down or something to not only distinguish the flames, but to also clear his airway where his heart had caught in his throat.
“Friends, that’s what we are, right?” Cook inquired, the question coated with sensitivity but also hinting that there was more to the question than what was one the surface.
And David really wished he could figure out what it was, knowing that his response was going to be analyzed. Something he didn’t understand was how this conversation had taken this spin. It was dizzying. He chomped down on his lip, nodding meekly. “Of course we’re friends, Cook.” His smile rang a little more true as it twitched upwards. “I like to think we’re good friends.” Maybe that was a bit presumptuous of him, but Cook had once said that he wanted to know more about him, right? And they did spend a lot of time together, when they could that is, so couldn’t they qualify as that? Maybe, perhaps? Or perhaps that was too much to hope for too.
“We are good friends.” Cook doesn’t even hesitate and it’s totally unfair because David’s thinking that he may just start hyperventilating at this sudden closeness that he’s experienced before with the older man but somehow, this was different and again he didn’t know why. It was times like these that the teenager would like to have a better grasp of social situations and how to read them, but, no, instead he’s spent most of his life avoiding people, so go figure that when he actually spent time with them that he would be completely lost.
“Right. So, uh, I guess, I guess friends, good friends, they…they know stuff about each other, like birthdays and such,” David was trying his hardest not to breathe in a raspy manner.
Or to breathe on Cook, who was making his way closer to David’s face. Um. Uh. Wha? He was half-tempted to tell the older man to stop doing that because he hadn’t brushed his teeth since that morning and who knows how gross it was. Even if that burger he’d had for lunch was devoid of onions, it may not smell pleasant. Dang it, he should have taken that piece of gum that Monica offered to him.
He doesn’t say anything about it though. Something apparently was listening to him because his intuition told him that it would be a moment killer, bringing up plausible bad breath at a time like this.
So he stayed silent instead, letting his eyes do the talking for him while they widened in surprise, Cook’s hand coming to rest on his cheek. David just knew that his face was giving away what he was currently thinking, which were things like oh my good gosh! and oh my heck! with oh my heck, what’s he doing, oh my gosh thrown into the mix.
Cook’s eyes were searching about his face and David wondered if he was finding what he was seeking, part of him knowing, somehow knowing, that he wanted the older man to. “Eighteen, huh?” His voice was distant and his expressionless face didn’t help give anything away. “Feel any different, now that you’re an adult?”
“Not really,” The words eased out of David smoothly. “I, I feel the same. I, uh, I thought for awhile that it may be a bit empowering, you know? But, I think I’m cursed with being spacey, awkward David forever.” And he laughed like it was funny, when really, it was more like there were these anxious, excited, nervous bubbles that were floating about inside of him that needed to be released before he popped.
Smile small yet comforting, Cook made use of his thumb, gently tracing over the bottom of the younger man’s jaw, causing David’s already raggedy breaths to hitch. “Doesn’t sound like a curse to me.”
The redness of the younger man’s cheeks was becoming an epidemic of sorts, the heat inching its way to his neck. Knowing that if he were to talk then that he would wind up sputtering all over his words his tongue was so tied, he simply let his smile widen. It was rather skeptical and nervous still, but it was bright nonetheless, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering around like they were helicopter wings.
“Eighteen,” Cook repeated. “That makes you an adult now. Well, only legally I suppose. I think you’ve qualified as an adult maturity wise for awhile now.”
David wasn’t so sure about that. In fact, he’s convinced that really, he had a lot of growing up to do yet, despite his situation. There was a lot more life for him to experience yet. He kind of felt like a work in progress, a rough draft, in a metaphorical sense. Like there was something missing that would correct his errors. And he was pretty sure that it was that confidence that he was working on. To him, that was something an adult should be, confident of themselves.
Besides, another thing that led him to believe that he was a work in progress was that he couldn’t define himself. Who was David Archuleta? Sure, there were ways that he could answer that, but not one that he wanted to stick to him for the rest of his life.
Because he was compelled to and because it somehow felt right to do so, the waiter managed to speak, fighting against the tightening that was wrapped around his entire body, “Well, there are a few differences. I can, like, go to the clubs and stuff with you now.” He was going for humor because the rock star being all serious like he was was leaving the younger man on edge. Quite literally. “But, I’m going to have to pass on the, um, the ones where people won’t be fully clothed at. Sorry.”
Cook followed along with him in the lighting of the conversation. “Not wanting to see exposed women, huh? Damn, Archie, that means I have to throw away those Playboys I bought for you. What a waste.” The hand on that was on David’s jaw line was tiptoeing its way upwards to the cheekbone, dancing across it with feathery fingertips. The gentleness sent tingles all the way to David’s toes that were beginning to curl in what was possibly anticipation.
The grin across Cook’s face was probably the only thing keeping the teenager from spontaneously imploding. “Oh gosh,” David only then realized that he’d been holding onto the chains of the swing so tightly that his knuckles were turning white as if he was using it as the only thing keeping him grounded onto the earth. “You don’t, you don’t, um, you don’t really read those, do you?” His nose was scrunched up in distaste.
“That’s nonsense, Arch,” Cook responded. Which David was glad for because, okay, so it obviously wasn’t something that would appeal to him, the sight of naked women, but it would have been a little weird for him to think that the older man did. “You don’t read Playboys, you admire the view.” The older man’s lips curled into a toothy grin.
And Cook’s guffaw that followed his companion’s reaction was loud and as goofy as his response. David was not as amused, made clear by the way his mouth fell open. “Cook, that’s not even funny,” He squealed, embarrassed to hear the words while the one who’d said them was highly entertained.
But then the taller man began to calm, going back to his bizarre mapping of David’s face, large smile in place. “I kid, I kid.”
Silence proceeded to surround them and David didn’t know about Cook, but it served as a wool blanket that was nearly suffocating him. His nerves were being set aflame by all of this oddly placed tension and sensations were resulting out of the caress of tender fingertips.
David had to do something before he simply died. And dying on his birthday did not sound fun. Would make for an interesting tombstone, maybe, but no, just no, that was not the way that he was planning on going. So the younger man reached his hand outwards, a trembling limb that was unsure of what it was doing but moving forward anyways, settling on the top of Cook’s hairline. Okay, his hand had awful aim because it totally missed its destination by a clear mile, but David maintained calm, going with the flow for once in his life.
Since it was rather funky to keep his hand where it was, he willed it to crawl upward into the brown locks, entangling gently to some of the strands. He was so wrapped up in focusing on getting his hand to the right spot, not wanting it to go to Cook’s nose or something, that he couldn’t begin to guess how the older man was feeling about his sudden actions. Or maybe he remained wrapped up even after the fact because he didn’t really want to think about it. He would have been likely to shrink away if he thought about it because he was always so unsure, always so questioning, always second guessing. That wasn’t going to get him anywhere when it came to this. Whatever that was. It remained unclear at that moment.
But oh was the teenager ever tuned in to the hand that was becoming acquainted with his hip, probably making it easier for Cook to hold him in place since he was still tilted in an angled direction for the two of them to be facing.
That was when David locked his eyes with Cook’s, finding that they were already geared in his direction. And while most say that before it happened one felt breaths, heard heartbeats, saw stars or sparkles or whatever, the next thing the teenager knew was well, the fact that all these years, he’d really been missing out.
Their shoulders nudged against each other, chests bumping, but all he honed in on was the lips that were merging with his own delicately. Until then, he’d always wondered what it felt like, a kiss that is, but he’d never had the gall to ask. But now he could say that he knew. He finally knew. Well, he could only speak for Cook’s lips, but to him, it was like a marshmallow. Or like bubble gum without the sticky. Or maybe it could be said that it was like a pillow of flesh.
Whatever. Point was, the lips that were covering his own were soft. But paradoxically rough. And scruffy. Definitely scruffy. Though, that was due to Cook’s stubble, and it was in that moment that David decided that he liked facial hair. It was nice. And so was kissing. Kissing was nice. Really nice.
He had no clue what he was doing, but the older man turned out to be a good teacher, so he followed his lead, their mouths tilting against each other to accommodate for their noses. Before he could feel like he had the basics down for this new experience, he discovered that kisses could also be quite abrupt and way too short.
But the contact was enough to leave his breathing frazzled and his head spinning. That? Wow. Harlequin novels did not do that justice. All of the blood in his body seemed to be in his face and he kind of like he was on the clouds, floating quite merrily.
Though, underneath that merriment, there was that spark of disbelief. Because, whoa, did that totally just happen? That wasn’t another one of his dreams, was it? No, no way. That was far better than anything he could have dreamt up. He was left affected, mind reeling, even as Cook leaned his forehead onto the younger man’s.
It was then that David could feel the breaths of the other. Smell it too. It wasn’t minty. There really was nothing he could compare it too. He knew it didn’t smell bad though, which left him way self-conscious, but he didn’t hear Cook voicing complaints, and his pushing closer had to mean something positive, right? Right.
A hand marginally larger than his own covered the one that he had placed on the chains of the swing, engulfing it warmly.
This silence was comfortable, but there was a question that was begging to be asked and well, David was dying to know. “So, um,” It was a bit awkward, he had to admit, talking to Cook after they had, well, after they had had a different sort of physical contact than he was used to. “Uh, does this mean,” He felt sheepish and silly to ask, but he had to know. “Does this mean we’re dating?” Of course, he was careful with his selection of the phrase. No way was he going to fall for the same play of words twice. Licking at his once-chapsticked lips, now dry, lips, his face was lit up with a new glow.
“No.”
Wait, what?! David succumbed to his spiraling thoughts, because, um, he may be new to this whole thing, but didn’t kisses normally mean something? Because, to the younger man, they were supposed to represent something passed that ‘friends’ stage. It meant that yeah, they could be a couple or whatever. He thought that, well, he thought that the older man kissing him meant, you know, that he felt the same way and stuff, that he wasn’t the only one that experienced that heart flip that occurred all of the time when the other man was around. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but he was feeling cheated of something there. His lips had just been de-virginized, okay, and if it didn’t have to mean anything, well, that wasn’t going to work with him.
In his opinion, they should go back to the good ol’ days when that sort of thing meant that they had to marry or whatever. Yeah, he was pretty sure that was centuries ago and that was when they engaged in something far, far more intimate than a kiss, but this was a big deal to him and while, okay, and while he didn’t want the older man to feel obligated to take their relationship further, well, well, it would have been nice for the other man to not toy with him like that. It kind of, no, it really hurt. He never would have thought that Cook was like that and-
“Does that work for you?”
“Huh?” David blinked with a blurred vision.
The older man’s smile was so welcoming, so heartfelt, so reverent that it left the younger man bewildered. “I said no, not yet.” The feeling that took over David’s very core was as fuzzy as the scruff that brushed across his forehead gingerly and his eyes couldn’t tear away from the ones that came back to greet his with a newfound sentimentality. A pinky wrapped around the teen’s rather snugly, an unsaid promise of things to come. “But I think, I think we should start. And I asked if seven o’clock this next Monday worked for you?”
It was safe to say that that night? Went down as the best he’d had up to that point. There really was no competition.Embarking on this journey called adulthood, he couldn’t think of how it could have been possible for him to have started it on a better foot. Or with a better guide.