Happy Holidays, tinkertoo!
Author: musicboxgirl
Recipient: tinkertoo
Title: Five Days of Cookmas
Pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta.
Word Count: 7,190
Summary: David just wants to plan a big surprise for Cook, so why are things going so wrong?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: We are in no way officially affiliated with David Cook, David Archuleta or their representation. Everything about them is completely fiction, and any similarity with reality is a mere coincidence. No copyright infringement is ever intended.
Warning(s): Adult language, explicit m/m sex
Author's Notes: Written for tinkertoo. Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy it. I want to thank lire_casander for being so amazing and for not killing me when it took me so long to finish this. Also, for reading through this in several encarnations, for encouraging me to keep at it when I got frustrated and for hand holding and cheerleading of epic proportions. Also, thanks to rajkumari905 for hand holding, encouragement and cheerleading. <3 I did not get a chance to have this beta'd so any and all mistakes are my own. I'm sorry? I hope you guys can enjoy it anyway.
On the first day of Cookmas David isn’t exactly anxious but that’s only because he doesn’t have the time to be. He has things to plan. Cookmas. That’s what he’s taken to calling it now that he can finally focus on it. The perfect Christmas, Cook’s surprise birthday party, food, flights, the tree. The tree! David hurries over to his night stand and opens it as he pulls a pen from his back pocket. He writes ‘TREE’ in big block letters across the bottom of his to do list. It’s a hurried press for more time to get everything ready because he’s just coming off of his fall tour and he hasn’t had a chance to plan any of it, heck, he wasn’t even sure that Cook would be home for Christmas at all. Now though, now they’re both home earlier than either of them thought they would be and David has a growing list of things to work out in something like five days if he’s going to make Cook’s birthday happen. He’s determined though; they’re going to have the best Christmas because they both deserve it and an amazing birthday party for Cook to start it all off right. It’s about time that they finally had the opportunity to do some of the things that normal married people do. Surprise birthday, merry Christmas, rock star husband, family and a happy new year. They’re going to have it all.
David takes another look at his list. It’s long, like really, really long. There are flights he has to coordinate and family members to contact without Cook knowing which means he really needs to get that part done while Cook’s out of the house. David draws big, blue stars next to ‘contact parents, siblings and friends’ and ‘coordinate flights’ on his list. He’s not anxious. His is not the face of panic at all.
David has generally been pretty good about picturing the outcome he wants and then making it happen but in this case, well, he feels like he’s in way over his head. It’s their first Christmas as a married couple, in their own house and with their families attending. It’s a big step, huge for them because they never get to do these things and David feels about as knowledgeable as a gnat when it comes to preparing for anything, especially something as important as Christmas and of course there’s also Cook’s birthday to consider and plan before he can even really get started on the Christmas part. Sure, he knows the basics, the decorations, the cake and the presents for the birthday and the honey ham, gingerbread cookies, candy canes, tinsel and all the other obvious things for Christmas. He can handle that part but there’s so much he just doesn’t have a clue about like where to find a Christmas tree in LA or how to bake a honey ham or how he’s going to plan a surprise party around Cook’s post tour clinginess. David smiles faintly as he hears Cook rummaging around in the kitchen and then wipes some sweat from his temples. He’s totally got everything under control, he can do this.
~*~
David feels like he’s in the most suspenseful game of hide and seek that he’s ever played or maybe, it’s more like a very intense game of shadow that he never signed up for. Either way, it seems like Cook is stuck to him like glue and anytime David manages to get away it’s a race against the clock to see how much he can mange to get done before Cook pops up out of nowhere and scares the living daylights out of David. It’s like clockwork and David’s heart needs a rest because it’s been beating erratically ever since Cook got home but David’s quickly running out of errands for Cook to go out on and the birthday party isn’t even half planned yet. David’s not sure how that’s even possible but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with Cook and his very convincing looks that he keeps using on David that make David drop everything he’s doing so that he can feel the slide of Cook’s skin on his fingertips.
David has to pull himself out of reveries the second Cook disappears into the bathroom. David waits, counts down from ten until he hears the shower turn on and he scrambled over his own feet as he struggles out of the tangle of sheets. Dublin raises his head just an inch, curious enough to watch David but not enough to move. David’s body hums as he stumbles out of bed and pulls on a robe, there’s no way he could talk to Cook’s mother if he was sitting there, um, completely in the buff. It’s just, it would be wrong and disrespectful even if David was the only one who knew that he was, um, yeah.
Cook’s mother answers on the third ring and David presses his phone close.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Foraker?” David whispers, “This is David, um, Archie.”
“Archie! How are you doing honey? And you know you should call me Beth.”
“Great. Thank you, Beth. Good to be home.” David huddles by the bedroom door in case he needs to make a fast getaway. He continues, “I hope things are well with all of you?”
“Absolutely! We’re getting ready for the holidays. Oh, that reminds me, will you be making it out here with David this year? We’d really love to have you.”
“That’s actually kind of why I’m calling. We’re both home early, earlier than we expected so I’m planning, um, a surprise birthday party as well as inviting everyone here for Christmas.”
David’s heart stutters when Cook belts out a startlingly loud note in the shower.
“Oh, Archie! That sounds wonderful. Both the families coming together for the first time since your ceremony. Absolutely! Absolutely, absolutely we will be there. I’ll take care of his dad too and Andrew and everyone on this end. Don’t even worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”
David grins wide.
“Hey, who are you talking to?”
David jumps and knocks his head against the doorjamb.
“Ow!”
Cook looks at him curiously and David can feel his cheeks heating up.
“What happened? Are you ok,” Beth asks in David’s ear and David’s knuckles go white around his phone.
“Great but I’m, uh, I’m ok with my, um internetcablething thanks!” David stutters as he closes his phone.
“Are you ok?” Cook asks, concern wrinkling his brow. “Who was it?”
“Fine.” David forces himself to smile and ignore the tightening in his stomach. “Just a telemarketer. I’m gonna grab a shower.”
David hurries towards the bathroom and stops just short of the door.
“You know what?”
Cook looks up from the shirt he’s examining, left eyebrow arched in question. “What?”
“You should get our Christmas tree!” David clears his throat when his voice cracks. “Today,” David continues, “With Michael. Johns. I’m sure he’d love to see you before he heads out of town for the holidays.”
“Well I was kind of hoping we could-,” Cook starts.
David cuts him off, “I bet Michael would love to spend some time with you.” David smiles again, wider than he intended to and tries to draw it in. “And it’ll give me time to, uh, clean! Yeah, our kitchen is dusty. Really, um, you can see the dust motes when you open the shades. And only goodness knows how well the cleaning service scrubbed our cabinets.”
“Yeah, ok. I guess,” Cook says. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“Nope. I’m fine. Here. Cleaning.”
David can see the uncertainty in Cook’s eyes but he just smiles again and then rushes over to place a quick kiss to Cook’s lips before disappearing into the bathroom.
David calls Beth back after he’s watched Cook’s car disappear around the corner from the bathroom window.
“Sorry about that, Beth.”
“What happened? Are you ok?”
David rubs at his face before he answers, “Yeah. Cook just snuck up on me while I was on the phone with you and I didn’t want him to hear what we were talking about. I sent him out so we’re ok for now.”
“Well, what else can I help you with, sweetie?”
David makes his way back to his list.
“I would really love if you could send me some of his favorite homemade recipes? I want to try to make some of them.”
~*~
David hangs up the phone just as he hears Cook’s car pull into the driveway. He quickly crosses out ‘contact parents, siblings and friends’ and ‘coordinate flights’ off his list and then, after peeking out the window, ‘TREE’. He runs up the steps and shoves his list into the bottom of his sock drawer.
David takes the steps two at a time on the way down and makes it to the door just as Cook unlocks it.
Dublin is waiting impatiently by the door to zoom outside the second Cook steps inside.
“Arch?”
“Hey! I just heard you pull up. Did you get a tree?”
Cook beams and points out to the driveway. The car is parked right in front of the house, a massive tree strapped to the roof. Dublin is alternating running up and down the driveway and running around in circles chasing his own tail. David’s eyes go round as he takes in the size of it. It’s much bigger than it looked from the window. David vaguely worries for Dublin’s safety as he notices the flimsy ties securing the tree to the car.
“I got the king of trees.” Cook falls silent for a minute and they both just stare at it while a blur of black speeds around. “Awesome tree, right?” Cook asks as his face glows.
David manages to nod.
“So, um, how are we going to get it inside? And we should do that before it like, I don’t know, rolls off the hood of your car and attacks Dublin.”
“Don’t wuss out on me, Archuleta. It’s lighter than you think it is.” Cook pecks David on the nose and then turns back to the tree and says, “And, Michael assured me that the rope was like Navy Seals grade or whatever the British equivalent of the Navy Seals is. Come on.”
David trudges out behind Cook and hopes that for once, just once, Cook isn’t exaggerating.
~*~
On the second day of Cookmas David finds himself huddled in the office talking to a sales manager at an unfair hour of the morning. David’s going through his order in a hushed tone while trying to listen for Cook. He doesn’t notice when Cook slips into the room and actually yelps and slams his phone shut when he looks up and sees Cook watching him curiously.
The thing about super secret planning is that David is, quite possibly, the World’s worst liar. He gets nervous and his hands sweat and he just feels jittery and wrong. It’s not like he’s never lied before. Because he has. He’s lied a lot in the past but it was never to Cook and it was always about things that people had no business asking in the first place. So when Cook corners David in the office and sets his jaw in a rigid line as David fumbles to hang up, (darnit, he was almost done with the order for the new soundboard for Cook’s studio!), he knows he’s in for a hard time because he can’t think of a single lie for why he’s up at seven am and whispering into his phone.
“Who were you on the phone with at,” Cook’s eyes dart to the clock on the wall and David’s heart beats against his ribs as he tries to come up with something, something that makes sense, before Cook ends with, “seven thirty?”
David’s never seen Cook look at him with something so close to distrust that it makes David feel like he has an ice for blood. It looks awful and David thinks that his heart is going to beat out of his chest at the same time that his stomach is going to drop through the floor. He just, he didn’t think this out enough before he got into this whole big deal. But just for once, for once, he wants to be the one to pull off the big surprise, to be the one looking out for Cook. Just once.
“Phoner,” David says and smiles faintly. “I didn’t want to wake you so I was trying to keep it down.”
“Oh,” Cook looks almost relieved. “You probably shouldn’t have hung up like that then.”
David’s stomach sinks and he swallows thickly as Cook leaves the room without another word. David feels pretty horrible when he closes the door with a soft click and locks it. He hits redial and begins to run through the specs again.
~*~
David decides to let Cook sleep in or hide out or whatever it is that he’s doing and instead of letting himself twist his own stomach into knots with worry, he goes in search of the box of Christmas decorations he knows is hiding in a dark corner of the attic.
It’s not until after he’s brought down two neatly labeled boxes that he decides that maybe what he should be doing is making Cook some breakfast. Cook never could turn down food.
David carries the boxes into the living room and sets them in front of the tree that they had to shove into a corner because they couldn’t get it to stand free and didn’t want to risk it falling over on Dublin.
He hums under his breath as he flips on the coffee maker and then sets to work on peeling a couple of apples. David’s phone buzzes and he pulls it out to see a text from Andy, a confirmation for Cook’s party. He replies quickly and shoves his phone back in his pocket just as Cook walks into the kitchen with Dublin. Dublin makes a beeline for the doggy door and Cook heads straight for the coffee pot.
“I thought I smelled coffee.”
“It just got done brewing.”
David tries for a soft smile and hands Cook a faded mug with a grinning penguin on it.
“Daylight deals a bad hand to a penguin that has laid too many bets,” David sings under his breath. He feels his ears going warm with the blush that’s creeping up his neck. Did he really just sing a Happy Feet song? David pushes past his moment of embarrassment to ask, “I’m making cinnamon apple pancakes and I thought, maybe, we could decorate the tree today? If you want that is. We don’t have to, though. I mean if you don’t want to.”
Cook laughs and hides his face in one hand.
“What is wrong with me?” Cook mumbles.
“Sorry?” David asks.
“Nothing. I would love some pancakes and I would probably enjoy some decorating too,” Cook says as he slides an arm around David’s waist and tucks his face against David’s neck. David can feel Cook’s hot breath ghost across his skin right before Cook presses a soft, wet kiss there. “And maybe a little something extra to thank you for getting the boxes down from the attic.”
David’s smile widens and he just barely keeps himself from bouncing in place.
~*~
“Move it just a little to the left. Yeah, there.”
Cook grunts and positions the tree, now resting tightly in the stand that one of them had brought along with them. David isn’t sure where it came from but he’s glad it was in one of the Christmas stuff boxes.
Cook steps away and takes it in.
“Why am I doing all the heavy lifting?”
“Because we can’t both fit in the corner with the tree and you got a really big tree so …”
“You’re too weak to move it yourself. I know, I know,” Cook interrupts.
David looks up from unwinding the Christmas lights to scoff at Cook.
“I’m not too weak!” David insists, “You’re the one who volunteered to move it. I would have helped but you were being all mountain man about it so I just let you. Ok?”
“I was being ‘mountain man’ about it?” Cook asks, left eyebrow arched in curiosity.
“Yeah,” David answers, “You know. Like a mountain man.”
“No. No, I really don’t know. Please explain.” Cook crosses his arms and looks down at David expectantly.
“Um,” David stalls and finds his hands hopelessly tangled in the new set of lights he’s working on, “uuhhh, like having the qualities of a mountain man?”
Cook lets out a barking laugh that leaves David itching to laugh along with him.
“What?” David asks.
Cook dramatically wipes his eyes and quotes, “Having the qualities of a mountain man? Really, Archie?”
“Well I could have said caveman if that’s more to your liking.”
David ducks his head and smirks as he pretends to work on the lights. Cook makes small gasping noises of disbelief.
“Game point, Archie. Game fucking point. You’re getting good.”
David looks up and bites his lip as he grins.
“I learned from the best.”
David almost hits the stack of ornaments when Cook tackles him to the ground. He wraps a hand tangled in lights around Cook’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.
The best part of being home has definitely got to be the way Cook presses David into the carpet with kisses that steal the air right out of David’s lungs.
~*~
David wakes up on the third day of Cookmas to Dublin whining low in his ear and his phone vibrating across his nightstand. David tries to make a grab for it but Cook is laying half across David’s body and he can move maybe a half an inch without waking Cook. The angry, red numbers on the clock notify him that it’s seven twelve in the morning.
Dublin hops off the bed and sits by the closed bedroom door.
“I’m coming, buddy,” David whispers.
David’s phone starts to vibrate again and he strains to try to read the screen. If it’s the shipping company about the delivery of Cook’s soundboard then he really needs to take the call. The soundboard has to be there by tomorrow. Dublin let’s out an irritated yip as he nuzzles at the door.
“I know. But what do you want me to do? Wake him?”
David turns slightly to look at Cook. He can see the dark circles under Cook’s eyes, the countless missed hours of sleep hiding just under the surface. He knows, knows how tired Cook is even though he hides it well because he’s just as tired but he has things to do and an insistent caller to answer.
David shimmies out from under Cook as delicately as he can and once he’s standing free of the covers and Cook’s warm body, he wishes he could be wrapped back up in bed with him for just a little while longer. Dublin let’s out another high whine as if he can read David’s mind and David shoots him a warning look. He swipes his phone from the bedside table and grabs his robe on the way to the door. Dublin escapes as soon as the door is open wide enough and David tails behind him as he checks his messages.
Once he’s downstairs, he grabs a cup of orange juice and makes his way to Cook’s studio to call back Hector, the soundboard guy.
He gets comfortable on the couch with the guilt that Claudia made them as a house warming present. He shoots of a few texts and then works on Cook’s presents.
It takes Hector an hour to finally agree to install the soundboard himself because David doesn’t want to leave it up to someone that isn’t familiar with the board itself.
“I just want to be a hundred percent sure it’s installed correctly.”
David sighs and fights off a yawn.
“Fine. I’ll come out there but I’m going to need a good four hour window to work. I can’t have you trying to hide me in closets or shove me out the door when I’m trying to hook this up.”
“Thank you so much, Hector! I’ll figure something out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it is.”
David shuts his phone and sets it next to his glass. He gives a happy sigh and wraps the quilt in tighter as he goes through his mental list again.
~*~
David wakes to the door of the studio giving a loud bang as it swings open.
“Huh?”
“What the hell, Arch? You left me in bed alone to come sleep in the studio?”
David winces at Cook’s tone, his stance, his expression. It’s all just wrong.
“What? No? I was just, I didn’t, I mean, I let Dublin out this morning and I didn’t want to wake you and then I came down here to work on some stuff and I guess I just dozed off? I didn’t mean to?”
“What were you working on that was so important you had to get it done before,” Cook pauses, eyes darting up to read the clock on the wall, “eleven?”
Cook stands in the doorway, arms crossed and that look on his face again. David thinks that disappointing the people you care about is pretty much the most depressing feeling he’s ever known.
“Just wanted to get some stuff for after the holidays out of the way and sort out my publicity schedule with Melissa. She’s gone a little overboard booking things for after the holiday season but now it’s sorted and I can have the rest of the day with you.”
David says a silent prayer begging forgiveness for involving his publicist in a lie like that but now that he’s said it he can’t really take it back.
Cook’s face relaxes slightly and David feels like he can breathe a little more evenly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come in here and freak or anything but I kind of panicked when I saw your car but couldn’t find you. I should have checked the whole house before I freaked out.”
“Well it’s a big house, Cook. I’m sorry I scared you.”
David opens his arms and Cook settles down on the couch, leaning into David with a low hum.
“It was still pretty stupid of me to freak out like that.”
“It’s ok. I probably would have too.”
They sit in silence for a while and then David asks, “Do you want to make some gingerbread cookies with me? My mom sent me a set of festive cookie cutters and she and I used to bake gingerbread cookies for my family every Christmas.”
Cook shudders a little against David as he chuckles. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t ever actually backed the cookies but my mom makes some kick ass frosting that she used to put on hers. I’m pretty much a champion gingerbread cookie eater though.”
David grins. “Of course you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you like gingerbread?”
“Well, yeah. Anything else?”
David rests his chin on the top of Cook’s head and takes a long pause to pretend to ponder the question.
“I’d like to know today, Archuleta. Are you trying to say I’m fat?”
David shakes with the effort to hold in his laugh. “Nope. Just that you like to eat a lot.”
Cook swings a blind hand at David and David avoids it easily as he dissolves into laughter. In the moment David feels like he’s never known any other feeling than the warm glow that spreads over him when Cook smiles up at him.
~*~
David doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until Cook cackles loudly and doubles over.
“What?” David asks. Cook’s face is pinched in laughter and David’s heart beats double time for a second, the sound of Cook’s voice trickling down David’s spine.
“You were whistling,” Cook snorts loudly before continuing, “’Whistle While You Work’. You’re like my very own Snow White. I guess that makes me Prince Charming.”
The familiar heat floods David’s cheeks as he presses the cookie cutter into the dough.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I, I am not a princess.”
“Oh, come on, you were about to conjure up all sorts of woodland creatures to help you with your cookie making endeavor!”
David’s cheeks feel like they’re going to burn off his face if Cook doesn’t knock it off.
“Should I get the window?” Cook asks. “Are your fairytale friends going to need help getting through the door?”
“Oh my gosh, Cook! I am not Snow White. If I’m any ‘Disney’ princess at all I’d be like, like, uh, Tiana! Which would make you the Frog Prince. So there!”
Cook looks back at David, mouth agape and eyes wide. “I’m the Frog Prince? Really? That’s impossible, Archie. I couldn’t be the Frog Prince because I’m just too handsome. So handsome, even, that if I were a princess I would be Aurora, blessed with beauty, song and sleep.”
David brings a closed fist to his mouth and tries hard not to giggle like the hypothetical princess he isn’t.
David smiles sweetly and says, “I would have pegged you as a Belle. Stubborn.” Cook gasps in mock offense. “Determined,” David says, “and the most beautiful girl in the land.”
David stretches up on his toes and presses his lips to Cook’s. Cook sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in David’s hair. David’s eyes flutter closed while he slides his tongue against Cook’s bottom lip. David’s mouth feels fevered where it meets Cook’s and he could never get tired of this, of any of it.
“Did you just call me a beautiful girl?” Cook whispers against David’s lips.
David shudders. “You did it first.”
Cook presses David back against the counter and David winces slightly when the edge digs into his back. Cook pulls back suddenly and David’s eyes shoot open in surprise. Cook brings up a hand covered in flour, pieces of gingerbread hanging off of Cook’s fingers.
“I think I just killed Santa.”
Cook presses one more kiss to David’s lips and then walks over to the sink.
“I should probably get these in the oven or they’re never going to get done. There are like 50 cookies here or something and we still have to decorate them.”
“That’s a lot of cookies,” Cook says over the rush of the running faucet. “I don’t know if I can eat that many cookies.”
“Oh, they’ll get eaten. Don’t you worry about it.”
David slides two trays of cookies into the oven and sets the timer. Cook’s hands are still damp when they wrap around David’s hips.
“Twenty minutes?” Cook asks. “I can think of a number of things that we can do in twenty minutes.”
David’s phone chimes three times and he sets his jaw in agitation.
“Shoot! I have to take this. Hold that thought.”
David unwraps himself from Cook’s arms and shuffles out of the kitchen before answering the phone.
“We have a problem.”
It’s Jazzy on the phone and David does a quick mental check as he tries to remember what she’s in charge of. The birthday dinner!
“What? What is it?”
“You’re going to have to call the caterer and work this out, Davie.” Jazzy sighs. “Apparently they’re triple booked and don’t have enough staff to cater the birthday or even get the food there. I’m really sorry! I tried like a billion other places but they were all booked and now this.”
“Oh, heck.” David sighs and chews his bottom lip as he thinks. “Do you know if they can at least cook the food? Because I could go pick it up or something, that’s not a huge deal, I just, I really need them to be able to at least make the food.”
“Alright. Let me see what I can do and I’ll give you a call back. Oh, did my number come up blocked? I did the code you told me to.”
David can hear an undertone of eagerness to Jazzy’s voice and he knows it well. “Yep! Perfect, sweetie,” he answers.
He can hear the grin in her voice when she says, “Great. I was really nervous I’d blow this if I tried to call you.”
“Nope, you’re fine,” David stops talking when he hears shuffling in the hallway and then lowers his voice to say, “Listen, I gotta go. Call me later. Te quiero, cari.”
“Te quiero! Bye.”
“Bye.”
David startles and drops his phone when he pushes the door open and Cook is just standing in the hallway with a blank look on his face. Cook swipes the phone off the rug before David has a chance.
David holds out his hand expectantly but Cook just holds it.
“Was that Claudia or your mom or something?”
“Uh, um,” David hesitates and stutters. “Uh, n-no?”
He doesn’t mean to stutter or to have it sound like a question or to say no because those are all things that Cook most definitely doesn’t want to hear.
“Then who was it, Archie?”
David tries desperately to get his brain to work triple time to come up with something to explain away the tense lines in Cook’s face.
“Answer me.” Cook says.
Cook’s voice sounds thin and cracked in David’s ears as he tries to form words that make sense.
“It was just Meli-”
Cook’s eyes narrow and his nostrils flare and David doesn’t need any of the signs to know he’s messed this up even as he scrambles to try to fix it.
“Don’t tell me it’s Melissa. Since when have you ever called her ‘cari’? You only ever use that for your sisters or your mom or me.” Cook’s voice shakes on the last word and David’s heart stutters in his chest.
“I didn’t mean Melissa,” David tries. His ears are humming and his voice sounds strained, far away, “I mean, it was, it was Jazzy.”
David feels lightheaded and hot and his skin is crawling with it. Cook’s lips press into a thin, tight line and he nods.
“Jazzy?” Cook asks, jaw held taut. The name barely squeezes past Cook’s lips.
David nods. Cook unlocks David’s phone with a few quick taps. For the first time that he can remember, David feels all the color drain out of his face. It’s cold, nothing but cold as his blood pools in his feet.
David grips the door frame tightly in his fist. This isn’t fair, it’s not how this was supposed to go at all and he can’t see how to get out of this.
“Jazzy?” Cook asks again and his teeth are clenched this time. “Jazzy from a fucking blocked number, David?”
David cringes against the sound of his name leaving Cook’s lips.
“I can’t even fucking believe you right now. What the fucking hell are you doing? Just explain that to me.”
“It’s not what you think,” David tries. “It’s just,” David stops short, his heart pounding the air out of his lungs. He starts again, “If you’d just trust me - ”
“Trust you?” Cook screams, voice shaking with emotion that David has never heard directed at him. “You’ve done nothing but sneak around since I got back! It just makes me wonder if coming home early was an interruption to whatever plans you obviously had going!”
The words hit David like a sharp slap to the face and it lights a fire in his belly that he’s never lost control of until now. It’s so ridiculous and he knows he shouldn’t say it but he says, “And you’ve done nothing but spy on me since you got back and I’m tired of it! You act like you know what’s going on when you don’t even have half of the picture figured out!”
Cook looks shocked and then his face glosses over. David can feel his insides crumbling as he struggles to stand. Cook shoves David’s phone square at David’s chest and David grabs it. Their finger burn when they meet and David pulls his hand away.
Cook slams down the hall without another word and David can hear him in the kitchen calling Dublin inside. It only takes about five minutes before David hears Cook’s car peeling out of the driveway. David slides down the wall and cradles his head in his hands. What the heck was he thinking?
He doesn’t have time to ponder it before the fire alarm starts shrieking. David rushes down the stairs to find a plume of dark grey smoke coming out of the oven.
~*~
It takes three hours for the panic to set in. David can feel his guts twisting up as he tries Cook’s phone and gets nothing but the voicemail. David calls Cook a total of forty-six times, leaves thirty-four nearly identical, frantic messages and paces the length of the living room one hundred and sixty-nine times. The forty-seventh call is met with the soft click of a connection and David can feel his breath coming out in quick pants.
“Cook? Are you okay?”
“M’fine. You can stop calling.”
“Cook, listen, please.”
“No, thanks.”
“I love you,” David says in a rush before Cook can hang up. “I’m sorry.”
“Archie? It’s Neal, man. He kind of just shoved the phone at me.”
“Oh, uh, hhhhmmm. Okay.”
“He’s drunk and being a dumbass but he’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him in the morning and we’ll sort this shit out. Don’t worry, kid.”
“Can you please, can you just tell him I said I’m sorry? Maybe I should come get him?”
“Nah. It’s cool. He can crash here and in the morning I’ll tell him he’s being an idiot and put him at ease and nothing will be ruined. Alright? Just put your phone down and go finish up whatever stuff you need to finish and I’ll handle this jackass. Deal?”
David sighs and nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Neal.”
~*~
The fourth day of Cookmas is cold and grey. David wakes up alone in bed and tries not to get too worked up about the fight before he can even start his day. He thinks that if he focuses on positive things then good things will happen. It’s worth a shot anyway because things can’t possibly get any worse than they already are. Positive thoughts. He breathes deep, closes his eyes and meditates until he feels a little more at ease.
David makes it all the way to the kitchen before he finally allows himself to check his phone messages. There’s a couple that are party related, one about the delivery of the soundboard and none from Cook. Positive thinking, he reminds himself. I positively think Dublin would appreciate some food, his inner voice says. David shakes his head and briefly wonders if maybe he’s gone a little loopy. Or maybe just loopier than normal.
Point one for positive thinking comes in the form of Hector, the soundboard tech, actually arriving with the soundboard in tow and on time. By quarter past ten Hector is in the studio and fiddling with wires.
Point two for positive thinking comes in the form of a phone call from the caterer. Thanks to Jazzy the caterer promises to fully cater the events and David can’t help but sigh in relief when he gets that news.
Point three for positive thinking comes in the form of a text from Neal. It simply reads, ‘All good. When should I send him home?’
David makes his way to the studio to check on Hector.
“Hi, Hector. Can I get you anything? Water or some orange juice?”
“I’m good. I’ll be out of your hair in about an hour, too. You should tip me generously for doing this in less than the estimated time.”
David rolls his eyes. “Sure thing, Hector. Just let me know when you’re done.”
Point four for positive thinking comes in the form of the delivery of the custom guitar that David ordered with Neal and Andy’s help. It’s perfect. David can’t wait for Cook to see it.
David is ecstatic that everything is finally falling into place the way he planned.
~*~
The thing about their fights is that, well, neither of them can really be mad at the other for very long. The thing about this particular fight is that the trust issue came into play and David, for as much as he wishes he could keep the surprise, does not think that it’s worth it if Cook feels like he can’t trust David. That’s a big issue and he never, in a million years, thought it would be one they would have.
Cook doesn’t come home until late in the afternoon. David puts his phone away the second he hears the front door open. They meet in the hallway and David stops short. Cook is just standing there, a bouquet of red roses in his hands and a sign that reads ‘I’m Sorry’ in his messy scrawl in the other.
“What? No, I’m sorry,” David says as he rushes over. “I shouldn’t have tried so hard to …”
“Ssshhh. It’s ok,” Cook says. “Let’s just agree to both be sorry because we both messed up. Ok?”
David nods and stands on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Cook’s lips.
“I’m sorry,” David mumbles. “I love you.”
Cook drops the flowers and the sign on the entryway table and kisses back, slow and sweet. David lets himself fall into Cook’s touch, remembering how much he craves it even when Cook is right there, right there next to him, it can never be enough. David laces his fingers behind Cook’s neck and leans back until he’s against the wall. Cook sighs into David’s mouth. David closes his eyes to feel every last touch.
Cook sighs again and pulls away to say, “Upstairs.” His eyes are dark and they set a fire off in David’s belly that makes David stumble for the stairs, tugging Cook behind him.
Cook presses David into the mattress even before David has a chance to undo his shoes. He struggles to kick them off while Cook presses kisses to his neck that make him gasp for air. It’s so hard to breathe when everything feels like suffocating, fiery heat.
David pulls at Cook’s shirt and tries to press his fingers against soft, smooth skin, anywhere he can.
“Please,” Cook moans.
David pushes up against Cook until Cook rolls and lies flat on the bed. David reaches for Cook’s belt, fingers bumping along Cook’s hip, hot, hot flesh that sends fizzling sparks into David’s fingers. He wants, he wants everything, he wants to show Cook everything he feels and he never wants to stop touching milky white skin that slides under his palms when he pushes Cook’s jeans off.
David pulls his own shirt off and stops just long enough to take in Cook, naked and waiting, beautiful, his brain says.
“Beautiful,” David whispers.
“Like a princess,” Cook says. Cook cracks a smile and David laughs along with him, the warm feeling in his heart spreading through his veins until he’s just a standing mass of warmth and spark.
David leaves his pants in a pile that he’ll pick up later but for now, for now everything is about Cook. He kneels between Cook’s thighs, fingers dancing against Cook’s biceps, over his shoulders and down his chest.
“Can I?” David asks.
Cook answers with a hiss, “Yes.”
His palm is sweaty when it wraps around Cook’s erection, sliding up hot, heavy, hard flesh until Cook arches into David’s touch. He knows this. Knows just how to make Cook moan and gasp and beg.
“Please, Archie.”
David shudders and the fire rages when he hears his name leave Cook’s lips in a breathy moan. It’s too much to resist anymore. He licks his lips and then wraps them around the head of Cook’s erection, enjoying the feel of it as it slides between his lips. He presses his tongue against the underside, slides it around the head and tastes the drops of precome at the slit. So familiar and comfortable, David can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
Cook’s hand rubs at David’s shoulder and neck while the other pushes the hair out of his eyes and it’s all there. The care, the love, the want. David moves until Cook arches, presses up into David’s mouth and groans.
David doesn’t pull away even as Cook pushes at him moaning, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna.”
When Cook comes, David sees stars behind his eyes. Surrounded and filled with all things Cook and he feels so right, so right.
He opens his eyes to Cook’s smile and his heart thumps in his chest. He never wants to open his eyes to anyone else’s smile.
~*~
They wake up on the fifth day of Cookmas at ten thirty in the morning. Dublin is sitting by the door when David stretches in Cook’s arm and turns to face him.
“Morning,” David yawns.
“Morning,” Cook whimpers and burrows into the pillows.
“Oh, c’mon! It’s your birthday. You should get up and enjoy the day.”
“I want to enjoy my day by staying in bed with you.”
“I don’t think Dublin would like that very much at all.”
As if to emphasize the point, Dublin whines and nuzzles at the door. Cook frowns and pulls the covers over his head. David shakes his head and slowly slides out from under Cook’s arm.
“Where are you going?” Cook asks.
“To let Dublin out. I’ll be right back.”
David grabs his clothes and dresses quickly in the hall. His phone buzzes in his pocket with just a text message.
‘We’re here!’
He lets Dublin out the back door and then tiptoes to the front where Cook’s family is piling out of a rental. He yelps when Cook slides cold hands across his hip.
“Oh!”
“What’s going on?” Cook looks confused as he watches the commotion out the front window. “Archie?”
“Surprise?” David tries.
“Are you? Did you? What the hell?”
“Happy birthday?” David tries again.
“Holy shit! Is that? Are those?”
“Merry Christmas?” David asks.
“You are … how did you … oh! You!”
David just stands and nods, unsure of what Cook is trying to say at all.
“Maybe?”
“You are amazing, Archie. Fucking amazing. I can’t believe you got them to all come out here for my birthday.”
Cook pulls David and kisses him hard, teeth scraping against David’s bottom lip.
“Thank you, Archie. Seriously this is, wow. Thank you.”
“Love you, Cook.”
“I love you,” Cook says.
~*~
The fifth day of Cookmas is full of family, friends and food. Just like David planned. And at the end of the night, when Cook presses David into the mattress of their bed and mumbles his thanks against David’s skin, David thinks, Merry Cookmas.
Recipient: tinkertoo
Title: Five Days of Cookmas
Pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta.
Word Count: 7,190
Summary: David just wants to plan a big surprise for Cook, so why are things going so wrong?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: We are in no way officially affiliated with David Cook, David Archuleta or their representation. Everything about them is completely fiction, and any similarity with reality is a mere coincidence. No copyright infringement is ever intended.
Warning(s): Adult language, explicit m/m sex
Author's Notes: Written for tinkertoo. Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy it. I want to thank lire_casander for being so amazing and for not killing me when it took me so long to finish this. Also, for reading through this in several encarnations, for encouraging me to keep at it when I got frustrated and for hand holding and cheerleading of epic proportions. Also, thanks to rajkumari905 for hand holding, encouragement and cheerleading. <3 I did not get a chance to have this beta'd so any and all mistakes are my own. I'm sorry? I hope you guys can enjoy it anyway.
On the first day of Cookmas David isn’t exactly anxious but that’s only because he doesn’t have the time to be. He has things to plan. Cookmas. That’s what he’s taken to calling it now that he can finally focus on it. The perfect Christmas, Cook’s surprise birthday party, food, flights, the tree. The tree! David hurries over to his night stand and opens it as he pulls a pen from his back pocket. He writes ‘TREE’ in big block letters across the bottom of his to do list. It’s a hurried press for more time to get everything ready because he’s just coming off of his fall tour and he hasn’t had a chance to plan any of it, heck, he wasn’t even sure that Cook would be home for Christmas at all. Now though, now they’re both home earlier than either of them thought they would be and David has a growing list of things to work out in something like five days if he’s going to make Cook’s birthday happen. He’s determined though; they’re going to have the best Christmas because they both deserve it and an amazing birthday party for Cook to start it all off right. It’s about time that they finally had the opportunity to do some of the things that normal married people do. Surprise birthday, merry Christmas, rock star husband, family and a happy new year. They’re going to have it all.
David takes another look at his list. It’s long, like really, really long. There are flights he has to coordinate and family members to contact without Cook knowing which means he really needs to get that part done while Cook’s out of the house. David draws big, blue stars next to ‘contact parents, siblings and friends’ and ‘coordinate flights’ on his list. He’s not anxious. His is not the face of panic at all.
David has generally been pretty good about picturing the outcome he wants and then making it happen but in this case, well, he feels like he’s in way over his head. It’s their first Christmas as a married couple, in their own house and with their families attending. It’s a big step, huge for them because they never get to do these things and David feels about as knowledgeable as a gnat when it comes to preparing for anything, especially something as important as Christmas and of course there’s also Cook’s birthday to consider and plan before he can even really get started on the Christmas part. Sure, he knows the basics, the decorations, the cake and the presents for the birthday and the honey ham, gingerbread cookies, candy canes, tinsel and all the other obvious things for Christmas. He can handle that part but there’s so much he just doesn’t have a clue about like where to find a Christmas tree in LA or how to bake a honey ham or how he’s going to plan a surprise party around Cook’s post tour clinginess. David smiles faintly as he hears Cook rummaging around in the kitchen and then wipes some sweat from his temples. He’s totally got everything under control, he can do this.
~*~
David feels like he’s in the most suspenseful game of hide and seek that he’s ever played or maybe, it’s more like a very intense game of shadow that he never signed up for. Either way, it seems like Cook is stuck to him like glue and anytime David manages to get away it’s a race against the clock to see how much he can mange to get done before Cook pops up out of nowhere and scares the living daylights out of David. It’s like clockwork and David’s heart needs a rest because it’s been beating erratically ever since Cook got home but David’s quickly running out of errands for Cook to go out on and the birthday party isn’t even half planned yet. David’s not sure how that’s even possible but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with Cook and his very convincing looks that he keeps using on David that make David drop everything he’s doing so that he can feel the slide of Cook’s skin on his fingertips.
David has to pull himself out of reveries the second Cook disappears into the bathroom. David waits, counts down from ten until he hears the shower turn on and he scrambled over his own feet as he struggles out of the tangle of sheets. Dublin raises his head just an inch, curious enough to watch David but not enough to move. David’s body hums as he stumbles out of bed and pulls on a robe, there’s no way he could talk to Cook’s mother if he was sitting there, um, completely in the buff. It’s just, it would be wrong and disrespectful even if David was the only one who knew that he was, um, yeah.
Cook’s mother answers on the third ring and David presses his phone close.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Foraker?” David whispers, “This is David, um, Archie.”
“Archie! How are you doing honey? And you know you should call me Beth.”
“Great. Thank you, Beth. Good to be home.” David huddles by the bedroom door in case he needs to make a fast getaway. He continues, “I hope things are well with all of you?”
“Absolutely! We’re getting ready for the holidays. Oh, that reminds me, will you be making it out here with David this year? We’d really love to have you.”
“That’s actually kind of why I’m calling. We’re both home early, earlier than we expected so I’m planning, um, a surprise birthday party as well as inviting everyone here for Christmas.”
David’s heart stutters when Cook belts out a startlingly loud note in the shower.
“Oh, Archie! That sounds wonderful. Both the families coming together for the first time since your ceremony. Absolutely! Absolutely, absolutely we will be there. I’ll take care of his dad too and Andrew and everyone on this end. Don’t even worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”
David grins wide.
“Hey, who are you talking to?”
David jumps and knocks his head against the doorjamb.
“Ow!”
Cook looks at him curiously and David can feel his cheeks heating up.
“What happened? Are you ok,” Beth asks in David’s ear and David’s knuckles go white around his phone.
“Great but I’m, uh, I’m ok with my, um internetcablething thanks!” David stutters as he closes his phone.
“Are you ok?” Cook asks, concern wrinkling his brow. “Who was it?”
“Fine.” David forces himself to smile and ignore the tightening in his stomach. “Just a telemarketer. I’m gonna grab a shower.”
David hurries towards the bathroom and stops just short of the door.
“You know what?”
Cook looks up from the shirt he’s examining, left eyebrow arched in question. “What?”
“You should get our Christmas tree!” David clears his throat when his voice cracks. “Today,” David continues, “With Michael. Johns. I’m sure he’d love to see you before he heads out of town for the holidays.”
“Well I was kind of hoping we could-,” Cook starts.
David cuts him off, “I bet Michael would love to spend some time with you.” David smiles again, wider than he intended to and tries to draw it in. “And it’ll give me time to, uh, clean! Yeah, our kitchen is dusty. Really, um, you can see the dust motes when you open the shades. And only goodness knows how well the cleaning service scrubbed our cabinets.”
“Yeah, ok. I guess,” Cook says. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“Nope. I’m fine. Here. Cleaning.”
David can see the uncertainty in Cook’s eyes but he just smiles again and then rushes over to place a quick kiss to Cook’s lips before disappearing into the bathroom.
David calls Beth back after he’s watched Cook’s car disappear around the corner from the bathroom window.
“Sorry about that, Beth.”
“What happened? Are you ok?”
David rubs at his face before he answers, “Yeah. Cook just snuck up on me while I was on the phone with you and I didn’t want him to hear what we were talking about. I sent him out so we’re ok for now.”
“Well, what else can I help you with, sweetie?”
David makes his way back to his list.
“I would really love if you could send me some of his favorite homemade recipes? I want to try to make some of them.”
~*~
David hangs up the phone just as he hears Cook’s car pull into the driveway. He quickly crosses out ‘contact parents, siblings and friends’ and ‘coordinate flights’ off his list and then, after peeking out the window, ‘TREE’. He runs up the steps and shoves his list into the bottom of his sock drawer.
David takes the steps two at a time on the way down and makes it to the door just as Cook unlocks it.
Dublin is waiting impatiently by the door to zoom outside the second Cook steps inside.
“Arch?”
“Hey! I just heard you pull up. Did you get a tree?”
Cook beams and points out to the driveway. The car is parked right in front of the house, a massive tree strapped to the roof. Dublin is alternating running up and down the driveway and running around in circles chasing his own tail. David’s eyes go round as he takes in the size of it. It’s much bigger than it looked from the window. David vaguely worries for Dublin’s safety as he notices the flimsy ties securing the tree to the car.
“I got the king of trees.” Cook falls silent for a minute and they both just stare at it while a blur of black speeds around. “Awesome tree, right?” Cook asks as his face glows.
David manages to nod.
“So, um, how are we going to get it inside? And we should do that before it like, I don’t know, rolls off the hood of your car and attacks Dublin.”
“Don’t wuss out on me, Archuleta. It’s lighter than you think it is.” Cook pecks David on the nose and then turns back to the tree and says, “And, Michael assured me that the rope was like Navy Seals grade or whatever the British equivalent of the Navy Seals is. Come on.”
David trudges out behind Cook and hopes that for once, just once, Cook isn’t exaggerating.
~*~
On the second day of Cookmas David finds himself huddled in the office talking to a sales manager at an unfair hour of the morning. David’s going through his order in a hushed tone while trying to listen for Cook. He doesn’t notice when Cook slips into the room and actually yelps and slams his phone shut when he looks up and sees Cook watching him curiously.
The thing about super secret planning is that David is, quite possibly, the World’s worst liar. He gets nervous and his hands sweat and he just feels jittery and wrong. It’s not like he’s never lied before. Because he has. He’s lied a lot in the past but it was never to Cook and it was always about things that people had no business asking in the first place. So when Cook corners David in the office and sets his jaw in a rigid line as David fumbles to hang up, (darnit, he was almost done with the order for the new soundboard for Cook’s studio!), he knows he’s in for a hard time because he can’t think of a single lie for why he’s up at seven am and whispering into his phone.
“Who were you on the phone with at,” Cook’s eyes dart to the clock on the wall and David’s heart beats against his ribs as he tries to come up with something, something that makes sense, before Cook ends with, “seven thirty?”
David’s never seen Cook look at him with something so close to distrust that it makes David feel like he has an ice for blood. It looks awful and David thinks that his heart is going to beat out of his chest at the same time that his stomach is going to drop through the floor. He just, he didn’t think this out enough before he got into this whole big deal. But just for once, for once, he wants to be the one to pull off the big surprise, to be the one looking out for Cook. Just once.
“Phoner,” David says and smiles faintly. “I didn’t want to wake you so I was trying to keep it down.”
“Oh,” Cook looks almost relieved. “You probably shouldn’t have hung up like that then.”
David’s stomach sinks and he swallows thickly as Cook leaves the room without another word. David feels pretty horrible when he closes the door with a soft click and locks it. He hits redial and begins to run through the specs again.
~*~
David decides to let Cook sleep in or hide out or whatever it is that he’s doing and instead of letting himself twist his own stomach into knots with worry, he goes in search of the box of Christmas decorations he knows is hiding in a dark corner of the attic.
It’s not until after he’s brought down two neatly labeled boxes that he decides that maybe what he should be doing is making Cook some breakfast. Cook never could turn down food.
David carries the boxes into the living room and sets them in front of the tree that they had to shove into a corner because they couldn’t get it to stand free and didn’t want to risk it falling over on Dublin.
He hums under his breath as he flips on the coffee maker and then sets to work on peeling a couple of apples. David’s phone buzzes and he pulls it out to see a text from Andy, a confirmation for Cook’s party. He replies quickly and shoves his phone back in his pocket just as Cook walks into the kitchen with Dublin. Dublin makes a beeline for the doggy door and Cook heads straight for the coffee pot.
“I thought I smelled coffee.”
“It just got done brewing.”
David tries for a soft smile and hands Cook a faded mug with a grinning penguin on it.
“Daylight deals a bad hand to a penguin that has laid too many bets,” David sings under his breath. He feels his ears going warm with the blush that’s creeping up his neck. Did he really just sing a Happy Feet song? David pushes past his moment of embarrassment to ask, “I’m making cinnamon apple pancakes and I thought, maybe, we could decorate the tree today? If you want that is. We don’t have to, though. I mean if you don’t want to.”
Cook laughs and hides his face in one hand.
“What is wrong with me?” Cook mumbles.
“Sorry?” David asks.
“Nothing. I would love some pancakes and I would probably enjoy some decorating too,” Cook says as he slides an arm around David’s waist and tucks his face against David’s neck. David can feel Cook’s hot breath ghost across his skin right before Cook presses a soft, wet kiss there. “And maybe a little something extra to thank you for getting the boxes down from the attic.”
David’s smile widens and he just barely keeps himself from bouncing in place.
~*~
“Move it just a little to the left. Yeah, there.”
Cook grunts and positions the tree, now resting tightly in the stand that one of them had brought along with them. David isn’t sure where it came from but he’s glad it was in one of the Christmas stuff boxes.
Cook steps away and takes it in.
“Why am I doing all the heavy lifting?”
“Because we can’t both fit in the corner with the tree and you got a really big tree so …”
“You’re too weak to move it yourself. I know, I know,” Cook interrupts.
David looks up from unwinding the Christmas lights to scoff at Cook.
“I’m not too weak!” David insists, “You’re the one who volunteered to move it. I would have helped but you were being all mountain man about it so I just let you. Ok?”
“I was being ‘mountain man’ about it?” Cook asks, left eyebrow arched in curiosity.
“Yeah,” David answers, “You know. Like a mountain man.”
“No. No, I really don’t know. Please explain.” Cook crosses his arms and looks down at David expectantly.
“Um,” David stalls and finds his hands hopelessly tangled in the new set of lights he’s working on, “uuhhh, like having the qualities of a mountain man?”
Cook lets out a barking laugh that leaves David itching to laugh along with him.
“What?” David asks.
Cook dramatically wipes his eyes and quotes, “Having the qualities of a mountain man? Really, Archie?”
“Well I could have said caveman if that’s more to your liking.”
David ducks his head and smirks as he pretends to work on the lights. Cook makes small gasping noises of disbelief.
“Game point, Archie. Game fucking point. You’re getting good.”
David looks up and bites his lip as he grins.
“I learned from the best.”
David almost hits the stack of ornaments when Cook tackles him to the ground. He wraps a hand tangled in lights around Cook’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.
The best part of being home has definitely got to be the way Cook presses David into the carpet with kisses that steal the air right out of David’s lungs.
~*~
David wakes up on the third day of Cookmas to Dublin whining low in his ear and his phone vibrating across his nightstand. David tries to make a grab for it but Cook is laying half across David’s body and he can move maybe a half an inch without waking Cook. The angry, red numbers on the clock notify him that it’s seven twelve in the morning.
Dublin hops off the bed and sits by the closed bedroom door.
“I’m coming, buddy,” David whispers.
David’s phone starts to vibrate again and he strains to try to read the screen. If it’s the shipping company about the delivery of Cook’s soundboard then he really needs to take the call. The soundboard has to be there by tomorrow. Dublin let’s out an irritated yip as he nuzzles at the door.
“I know. But what do you want me to do? Wake him?”
David turns slightly to look at Cook. He can see the dark circles under Cook’s eyes, the countless missed hours of sleep hiding just under the surface. He knows, knows how tired Cook is even though he hides it well because he’s just as tired but he has things to do and an insistent caller to answer.
David shimmies out from under Cook as delicately as he can and once he’s standing free of the covers and Cook’s warm body, he wishes he could be wrapped back up in bed with him for just a little while longer. Dublin let’s out another high whine as if he can read David’s mind and David shoots him a warning look. He swipes his phone from the bedside table and grabs his robe on the way to the door. Dublin escapes as soon as the door is open wide enough and David tails behind him as he checks his messages.
Once he’s downstairs, he grabs a cup of orange juice and makes his way to Cook’s studio to call back Hector, the soundboard guy.
He gets comfortable on the couch with the guilt that Claudia made them as a house warming present. He shoots of a few texts and then works on Cook’s presents.
It takes Hector an hour to finally agree to install the soundboard himself because David doesn’t want to leave it up to someone that isn’t familiar with the board itself.
“I just want to be a hundred percent sure it’s installed correctly.”
David sighs and fights off a yawn.
“Fine. I’ll come out there but I’m going to need a good four hour window to work. I can’t have you trying to hide me in closets or shove me out the door when I’m trying to hook this up.”
“Thank you so much, Hector! I’ll figure something out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it is.”
David shuts his phone and sets it next to his glass. He gives a happy sigh and wraps the quilt in tighter as he goes through his mental list again.
~*~
David wakes to the door of the studio giving a loud bang as it swings open.
“Huh?”
“What the hell, Arch? You left me in bed alone to come sleep in the studio?”
David winces at Cook’s tone, his stance, his expression. It’s all just wrong.
“What? No? I was just, I didn’t, I mean, I let Dublin out this morning and I didn’t want to wake you and then I came down here to work on some stuff and I guess I just dozed off? I didn’t mean to?”
“What were you working on that was so important you had to get it done before,” Cook pauses, eyes darting up to read the clock on the wall, “eleven?”
Cook stands in the doorway, arms crossed and that look on his face again. David thinks that disappointing the people you care about is pretty much the most depressing feeling he’s ever known.
“Just wanted to get some stuff for after the holidays out of the way and sort out my publicity schedule with Melissa. She’s gone a little overboard booking things for after the holiday season but now it’s sorted and I can have the rest of the day with you.”
David says a silent prayer begging forgiveness for involving his publicist in a lie like that but now that he’s said it he can’t really take it back.
Cook’s face relaxes slightly and David feels like he can breathe a little more evenly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come in here and freak or anything but I kind of panicked when I saw your car but couldn’t find you. I should have checked the whole house before I freaked out.”
“Well it’s a big house, Cook. I’m sorry I scared you.”
David opens his arms and Cook settles down on the couch, leaning into David with a low hum.
“It was still pretty stupid of me to freak out like that.”
“It’s ok. I probably would have too.”
They sit in silence for a while and then David asks, “Do you want to make some gingerbread cookies with me? My mom sent me a set of festive cookie cutters and she and I used to bake gingerbread cookies for my family every Christmas.”
Cook shudders a little against David as he chuckles. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t ever actually backed the cookies but my mom makes some kick ass frosting that she used to put on hers. I’m pretty much a champion gingerbread cookie eater though.”
David grins. “Of course you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you like gingerbread?”
“Well, yeah. Anything else?”
David rests his chin on the top of Cook’s head and takes a long pause to pretend to ponder the question.
“I’d like to know today, Archuleta. Are you trying to say I’m fat?”
David shakes with the effort to hold in his laugh. “Nope. Just that you like to eat a lot.”
Cook swings a blind hand at David and David avoids it easily as he dissolves into laughter. In the moment David feels like he’s never known any other feeling than the warm glow that spreads over him when Cook smiles up at him.
~*~
David doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until Cook cackles loudly and doubles over.
“What?” David asks. Cook’s face is pinched in laughter and David’s heart beats double time for a second, the sound of Cook’s voice trickling down David’s spine.
“You were whistling,” Cook snorts loudly before continuing, “’Whistle While You Work’. You’re like my very own Snow White. I guess that makes me Prince Charming.”
The familiar heat floods David’s cheeks as he presses the cookie cutter into the dough.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I, I am not a princess.”
“Oh, come on, you were about to conjure up all sorts of woodland creatures to help you with your cookie making endeavor!”
David’s cheeks feel like they’re going to burn off his face if Cook doesn’t knock it off.
“Should I get the window?” Cook asks. “Are your fairytale friends going to need help getting through the door?”
“Oh my gosh, Cook! I am not Snow White. If I’m any ‘Disney’ princess at all I’d be like, like, uh, Tiana! Which would make you the Frog Prince. So there!”
Cook looks back at David, mouth agape and eyes wide. “I’m the Frog Prince? Really? That’s impossible, Archie. I couldn’t be the Frog Prince because I’m just too handsome. So handsome, even, that if I were a princess I would be Aurora, blessed with beauty, song and sleep.”
David brings a closed fist to his mouth and tries hard not to giggle like the hypothetical princess he isn’t.
David smiles sweetly and says, “I would have pegged you as a Belle. Stubborn.” Cook gasps in mock offense. “Determined,” David says, “and the most beautiful girl in the land.”
David stretches up on his toes and presses his lips to Cook’s. Cook sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in David’s hair. David’s eyes flutter closed while he slides his tongue against Cook’s bottom lip. David’s mouth feels fevered where it meets Cook’s and he could never get tired of this, of any of it.
“Did you just call me a beautiful girl?” Cook whispers against David’s lips.
David shudders. “You did it first.”
Cook presses David back against the counter and David winces slightly when the edge digs into his back. Cook pulls back suddenly and David’s eyes shoot open in surprise. Cook brings up a hand covered in flour, pieces of gingerbread hanging off of Cook’s fingers.
“I think I just killed Santa.”
Cook presses one more kiss to David’s lips and then walks over to the sink.
“I should probably get these in the oven or they’re never going to get done. There are like 50 cookies here or something and we still have to decorate them.”
“That’s a lot of cookies,” Cook says over the rush of the running faucet. “I don’t know if I can eat that many cookies.”
“Oh, they’ll get eaten. Don’t you worry about it.”
David slides two trays of cookies into the oven and sets the timer. Cook’s hands are still damp when they wrap around David’s hips.
“Twenty minutes?” Cook asks. “I can think of a number of things that we can do in twenty minutes.”
David’s phone chimes three times and he sets his jaw in agitation.
“Shoot! I have to take this. Hold that thought.”
David unwraps himself from Cook’s arms and shuffles out of the kitchen before answering the phone.
“We have a problem.”
It’s Jazzy on the phone and David does a quick mental check as he tries to remember what she’s in charge of. The birthday dinner!
“What? What is it?”
“You’re going to have to call the caterer and work this out, Davie.” Jazzy sighs. “Apparently they’re triple booked and don’t have enough staff to cater the birthday or even get the food there. I’m really sorry! I tried like a billion other places but they were all booked and now this.”
“Oh, heck.” David sighs and chews his bottom lip as he thinks. “Do you know if they can at least cook the food? Because I could go pick it up or something, that’s not a huge deal, I just, I really need them to be able to at least make the food.”
“Alright. Let me see what I can do and I’ll give you a call back. Oh, did my number come up blocked? I did the code you told me to.”
David can hear an undertone of eagerness to Jazzy’s voice and he knows it well. “Yep! Perfect, sweetie,” he answers.
He can hear the grin in her voice when she says, “Great. I was really nervous I’d blow this if I tried to call you.”
“Nope, you’re fine,” David stops talking when he hears shuffling in the hallway and then lowers his voice to say, “Listen, I gotta go. Call me later. Te quiero, cari.”
“Te quiero! Bye.”
“Bye.”
David startles and drops his phone when he pushes the door open and Cook is just standing in the hallway with a blank look on his face. Cook swipes the phone off the rug before David has a chance.
David holds out his hand expectantly but Cook just holds it.
“Was that Claudia or your mom or something?”
“Uh, um,” David hesitates and stutters. “Uh, n-no?”
He doesn’t mean to stutter or to have it sound like a question or to say no because those are all things that Cook most definitely doesn’t want to hear.
“Then who was it, Archie?”
David tries desperately to get his brain to work triple time to come up with something to explain away the tense lines in Cook’s face.
“Answer me.” Cook says.
Cook’s voice sounds thin and cracked in David’s ears as he tries to form words that make sense.
“It was just Meli-”
Cook’s eyes narrow and his nostrils flare and David doesn’t need any of the signs to know he’s messed this up even as he scrambles to try to fix it.
“Don’t tell me it’s Melissa. Since when have you ever called her ‘cari’? You only ever use that for your sisters or your mom or me.” Cook’s voice shakes on the last word and David’s heart stutters in his chest.
“I didn’t mean Melissa,” David tries. His ears are humming and his voice sounds strained, far away, “I mean, it was, it was Jazzy.”
David feels lightheaded and hot and his skin is crawling with it. Cook’s lips press into a thin, tight line and he nods.
“Jazzy?” Cook asks, jaw held taut. The name barely squeezes past Cook’s lips.
David nods. Cook unlocks David’s phone with a few quick taps. For the first time that he can remember, David feels all the color drain out of his face. It’s cold, nothing but cold as his blood pools in his feet.
David grips the door frame tightly in his fist. This isn’t fair, it’s not how this was supposed to go at all and he can’t see how to get out of this.
“Jazzy?” Cook asks again and his teeth are clenched this time. “Jazzy from a fucking blocked number, David?”
David cringes against the sound of his name leaving Cook’s lips.
“I can’t even fucking believe you right now. What the fucking hell are you doing? Just explain that to me.”
“It’s not what you think,” David tries. “It’s just,” David stops short, his heart pounding the air out of his lungs. He starts again, “If you’d just trust me - ”
“Trust you?” Cook screams, voice shaking with emotion that David has never heard directed at him. “You’ve done nothing but sneak around since I got back! It just makes me wonder if coming home early was an interruption to whatever plans you obviously had going!”
The words hit David like a sharp slap to the face and it lights a fire in his belly that he’s never lost control of until now. It’s so ridiculous and he knows he shouldn’t say it but he says, “And you’ve done nothing but spy on me since you got back and I’m tired of it! You act like you know what’s going on when you don’t even have half of the picture figured out!”
Cook looks shocked and then his face glosses over. David can feel his insides crumbling as he struggles to stand. Cook shoves David’s phone square at David’s chest and David grabs it. Their finger burn when they meet and David pulls his hand away.
Cook slams down the hall without another word and David can hear him in the kitchen calling Dublin inside. It only takes about five minutes before David hears Cook’s car peeling out of the driveway. David slides down the wall and cradles his head in his hands. What the heck was he thinking?
He doesn’t have time to ponder it before the fire alarm starts shrieking. David rushes down the stairs to find a plume of dark grey smoke coming out of the oven.
~*~
It takes three hours for the panic to set in. David can feel his guts twisting up as he tries Cook’s phone and gets nothing but the voicemail. David calls Cook a total of forty-six times, leaves thirty-four nearly identical, frantic messages and paces the length of the living room one hundred and sixty-nine times. The forty-seventh call is met with the soft click of a connection and David can feel his breath coming out in quick pants.
“Cook? Are you okay?”
“M’fine. You can stop calling.”
“Cook, listen, please.”
“No, thanks.”
“I love you,” David says in a rush before Cook can hang up. “I’m sorry.”
“Archie? It’s Neal, man. He kind of just shoved the phone at me.”
“Oh, uh, hhhhmmm. Okay.”
“He’s drunk and being a dumbass but he’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him in the morning and we’ll sort this shit out. Don’t worry, kid.”
“Can you please, can you just tell him I said I’m sorry? Maybe I should come get him?”
“Nah. It’s cool. He can crash here and in the morning I’ll tell him he’s being an idiot and put him at ease and nothing will be ruined. Alright? Just put your phone down and go finish up whatever stuff you need to finish and I’ll handle this jackass. Deal?”
David sighs and nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Neal.”
~*~
The fourth day of Cookmas is cold and grey. David wakes up alone in bed and tries not to get too worked up about the fight before he can even start his day. He thinks that if he focuses on positive things then good things will happen. It’s worth a shot anyway because things can’t possibly get any worse than they already are. Positive thoughts. He breathes deep, closes his eyes and meditates until he feels a little more at ease.
David makes it all the way to the kitchen before he finally allows himself to check his phone messages. There’s a couple that are party related, one about the delivery of the soundboard and none from Cook. Positive thinking, he reminds himself. I positively think Dublin would appreciate some food, his inner voice says. David shakes his head and briefly wonders if maybe he’s gone a little loopy. Or maybe just loopier than normal.
Point one for positive thinking comes in the form of Hector, the soundboard tech, actually arriving with the soundboard in tow and on time. By quarter past ten Hector is in the studio and fiddling with wires.
Point two for positive thinking comes in the form of a phone call from the caterer. Thanks to Jazzy the caterer promises to fully cater the events and David can’t help but sigh in relief when he gets that news.
Point three for positive thinking comes in the form of a text from Neal. It simply reads, ‘All good. When should I send him home?’
David makes his way to the studio to check on Hector.
“Hi, Hector. Can I get you anything? Water or some orange juice?”
“I’m good. I’ll be out of your hair in about an hour, too. You should tip me generously for doing this in less than the estimated time.”
David rolls his eyes. “Sure thing, Hector. Just let me know when you’re done.”
Point four for positive thinking comes in the form of the delivery of the custom guitar that David ordered with Neal and Andy’s help. It’s perfect. David can’t wait for Cook to see it.
David is ecstatic that everything is finally falling into place the way he planned.
~*~
The thing about their fights is that, well, neither of them can really be mad at the other for very long. The thing about this particular fight is that the trust issue came into play and David, for as much as he wishes he could keep the surprise, does not think that it’s worth it if Cook feels like he can’t trust David. That’s a big issue and he never, in a million years, thought it would be one they would have.
Cook doesn’t come home until late in the afternoon. David puts his phone away the second he hears the front door open. They meet in the hallway and David stops short. Cook is just standing there, a bouquet of red roses in his hands and a sign that reads ‘I’m Sorry’ in his messy scrawl in the other.
“What? No, I’m sorry,” David says as he rushes over. “I shouldn’t have tried so hard to …”
“Ssshhh. It’s ok,” Cook says. “Let’s just agree to both be sorry because we both messed up. Ok?”
David nods and stands on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Cook’s lips.
“I’m sorry,” David mumbles. “I love you.”
Cook drops the flowers and the sign on the entryway table and kisses back, slow and sweet. David lets himself fall into Cook’s touch, remembering how much he craves it even when Cook is right there, right there next to him, it can never be enough. David laces his fingers behind Cook’s neck and leans back until he’s against the wall. Cook sighs into David’s mouth. David closes his eyes to feel every last touch.
Cook sighs again and pulls away to say, “Upstairs.” His eyes are dark and they set a fire off in David’s belly that makes David stumble for the stairs, tugging Cook behind him.
Cook presses David into the mattress even before David has a chance to undo his shoes. He struggles to kick them off while Cook presses kisses to his neck that make him gasp for air. It’s so hard to breathe when everything feels like suffocating, fiery heat.
David pulls at Cook’s shirt and tries to press his fingers against soft, smooth skin, anywhere he can.
“Please,” Cook moans.
David pushes up against Cook until Cook rolls and lies flat on the bed. David reaches for Cook’s belt, fingers bumping along Cook’s hip, hot, hot flesh that sends fizzling sparks into David’s fingers. He wants, he wants everything, he wants to show Cook everything he feels and he never wants to stop touching milky white skin that slides under his palms when he pushes Cook’s jeans off.
David pulls his own shirt off and stops just long enough to take in Cook, naked and waiting, beautiful, his brain says.
“Beautiful,” David whispers.
“Like a princess,” Cook says. Cook cracks a smile and David laughs along with him, the warm feeling in his heart spreading through his veins until he’s just a standing mass of warmth and spark.
David leaves his pants in a pile that he’ll pick up later but for now, for now everything is about Cook. He kneels between Cook’s thighs, fingers dancing against Cook’s biceps, over his shoulders and down his chest.
“Can I?” David asks.
Cook answers with a hiss, “Yes.”
His palm is sweaty when it wraps around Cook’s erection, sliding up hot, heavy, hard flesh until Cook arches into David’s touch. He knows this. Knows just how to make Cook moan and gasp and beg.
“Please, Archie.”
David shudders and the fire rages when he hears his name leave Cook’s lips in a breathy moan. It’s too much to resist anymore. He licks his lips and then wraps them around the head of Cook’s erection, enjoying the feel of it as it slides between his lips. He presses his tongue against the underside, slides it around the head and tastes the drops of precome at the slit. So familiar and comfortable, David can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
Cook’s hand rubs at David’s shoulder and neck while the other pushes the hair out of his eyes and it’s all there. The care, the love, the want. David moves until Cook arches, presses up into David’s mouth and groans.
David doesn’t pull away even as Cook pushes at him moaning, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna.”
When Cook comes, David sees stars behind his eyes. Surrounded and filled with all things Cook and he feels so right, so right.
He opens his eyes to Cook’s smile and his heart thumps in his chest. He never wants to open his eyes to anyone else’s smile.
~*~
They wake up on the fifth day of Cookmas at ten thirty in the morning. Dublin is sitting by the door when David stretches in Cook’s arm and turns to face him.
“Morning,” David yawns.
“Morning,” Cook whimpers and burrows into the pillows.
“Oh, c’mon! It’s your birthday. You should get up and enjoy the day.”
“I want to enjoy my day by staying in bed with you.”
“I don’t think Dublin would like that very much at all.”
As if to emphasize the point, Dublin whines and nuzzles at the door. Cook frowns and pulls the covers over his head. David shakes his head and slowly slides out from under Cook’s arm.
“Where are you going?” Cook asks.
“To let Dublin out. I’ll be right back.”
David grabs his clothes and dresses quickly in the hall. His phone buzzes in his pocket with just a text message.
‘We’re here!’
He lets Dublin out the back door and then tiptoes to the front where Cook’s family is piling out of a rental. He yelps when Cook slides cold hands across his hip.
“Oh!”
“What’s going on?” Cook looks confused as he watches the commotion out the front window. “Archie?”
“Surprise?” David tries.
“Are you? Did you? What the hell?”
“Happy birthday?” David tries again.
“Holy shit! Is that? Are those?”
“Merry Christmas?” David asks.
“You are … how did you … oh! You!”
David just stands and nods, unsure of what Cook is trying to say at all.
“Maybe?”
“You are amazing, Archie. Fucking amazing. I can’t believe you got them to all come out here for my birthday.”
Cook pulls David and kisses him hard, teeth scraping against David’s bottom lip.
“Thank you, Archie. Seriously this is, wow. Thank you.”
“Love you, Cook.”
“I love you,” Cook says.
~*~
The fifth day of Cookmas is full of family, friends and food. Just like David planned. And at the end of the night, when Cook presses David into the mattress of their bed and mumbles his thanks against David’s skin, David thinks, Merry Cookmas.