David Cook/David Archuleta - david&david family series - wake up call
title: david&david family series: wake up call
author: foreverflicker
fandom: American Idol
pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta
rating: G
genre: fluff, fluff, & more fluff
prompt: d → dawn
disclaimer: First off, I do not own David Cook or David Archuleta or any other persons mentioned; they are all their own person. Secondly, no profit was made off of this piece of work. And, lastly, it’s fiction. All of this was created from my mind. To my knowledge, none of this has happened.
summary: It has been two months, and he is still not used to waking up in the middle of the night to take care of a little baby.
note(s): second part (as of now) in the david&david family series.
The small cry from the room over easily reach Cook’s ears, and he groans, his body not wanting to wake up this early in the morning. It has been two months, and he is still not used to waking up in the middle of the night to take care of a little baby.
David also hears the sound, and is waking up next to him, but Cook places a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go check on him, babe,” he tells David, who continues to wake up, pushing himself up on his elbows.
The younger male looks up at Cook with half-opened eyes, hair astray on top his head. “Are you sure?” and Cook nods, pushing the covers back, the cold air hitting his half-naked form and making him shiver a little.
“Go back to bed,” he tells David, who doesn’t argue, falling back onto the bed with a small plop as Cook gets out of the bed. Slowly, he makes his way to the room across the hall, the cries getting a little louder as he gets closer to the room.
The musician opens the door, and flicks on the small lamp right next to the door, not wanting to blind the baby (well, more like himself, but it is also for Grayson’s comfort as well), and looks at the crib. “Aw, what’s wrong, buddy?” he whispers, making his way over to the crib, and automatically swooping the little boy into his arms, holding him up against his chest.
Of course, the baby doesn’t answer him other than crying a little more, and Cook begins to shift his weight from one foot to the other, swaying a little to try and sooth the crying baby. He makes soft cooing and shushing noises as well, hand rubbing gently up and down the baby’s back.
“Do you need a diaper change?” he asks, and feelings the little boy’s bottom, seeing if Grayson needs one. But, he doesn’t feel anything - nor does he smell anything - so he just moves his hand back to Grayson’s back, and continues to try and quiet him.
“Are you hungry, little man?” the musician asks, and as if the baby understood, his mouth begins sucking on Cook’s shoulder. It is a little gesture, but it tells Cook all he needs to know. “Alright, let’s get you a bottle,” he says, and holding the baby securely against his chest, Cook makes his way out of the room, and downstairs to the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, Cook begins to prepare a bottle for Grayson. He warms the bottle, all the while holding the baby, swaying ever so slightly to try and sooth the crying until he can get the bottle ready, and mixing formula (it is a art form, Cook figures out). When the bottle is warm enough, he pours the formula into the bottle, and makes his way back up to Grayson’s room.
In the room, he takes a seat on the rocking chair they have in the room, and cradles the little baby in his arms. Slowly, he places the bottle to the baby’s little mouth, and automatically, Grayson’s mouth latches onto the nipple, and he quickly begins to suck the formula from the bottle.
Cook stays like this for a few moments, making sure that Grayson isn’t taking in too much air, and that he isn’t drinking too fast, until finally, the mouth stops sucking on the nipple. The bottle is pretty much gone, so Cook doesn’t force Grayson to drink anymore, and he sets the bottle aside before putting the baby against his shoulder. He stands up, and begins moving around the room, all the while patting his baby’s back gently until he burps.
“Feel better, buddy?” he asks, pulling the baby away to look at his son, who looks so much like him, and the baby just looks back at him. The tears that were falling down his face are dried on his checks, and he looks quite content, and sleepy. It only takes a few more minutes of holding Grayson and swaying back and forth before the baby finally falls fast asleep against his shoulder.
Cook smiles softly at the little babe before he slowly, and as carefully as he can, removes the baby from his shoulder and puts him back in the crib. His face scrunches a little in protest, but Grayson doesn’t make a move to get up. The musician pulls the blanket over Grayson’s small frame, and leans down, giving him a soft kiss on the top of his head before quietly leaving the room, turning off the lamp, and closing the door.
There is drool and tears drying on his bare shoulder, formula drying on his hands, he is wide awake, and the sun is coming up in the east, but David Cook wouldn’t trade it in for anything in the world.
author: foreverflicker
fandom: American Idol
pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta
rating: G
genre: fluff, fluff, & more fluff
prompt: d → dawn
disclaimer: First off, I do not own David Cook or David Archuleta or any other persons mentioned; they are all their own person. Secondly, no profit was made off of this piece of work. And, lastly, it’s fiction. All of this was created from my mind. To my knowledge, none of this has happened.
summary: It has been two months, and he is still not used to waking up in the middle of the night to take care of a little baby.
note(s): second part (as of now) in the david&david family series.
The small cry from the room over easily reach Cook’s ears, and he groans, his body not wanting to wake up this early in the morning. It has been two months, and he is still not used to waking up in the middle of the night to take care of a little baby.
David also hears the sound, and is waking up next to him, but Cook places a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go check on him, babe,” he tells David, who continues to wake up, pushing himself up on his elbows.
The younger male looks up at Cook with half-opened eyes, hair astray on top his head. “Are you sure?” and Cook nods, pushing the covers back, the cold air hitting his half-naked form and making him shiver a little.
“Go back to bed,” he tells David, who doesn’t argue, falling back onto the bed with a small plop as Cook gets out of the bed. Slowly, he makes his way to the room across the hall, the cries getting a little louder as he gets closer to the room.
The musician opens the door, and flicks on the small lamp right next to the door, not wanting to blind the baby (well, more like himself, but it is also for Grayson’s comfort as well), and looks at the crib. “Aw, what’s wrong, buddy?” he whispers, making his way over to the crib, and automatically swooping the little boy into his arms, holding him up against his chest.
Of course, the baby doesn’t answer him other than crying a little more, and Cook begins to shift his weight from one foot to the other, swaying a little to try and sooth the crying baby. He makes soft cooing and shushing noises as well, hand rubbing gently up and down the baby’s back.
“Do you need a diaper change?” he asks, and feelings the little boy’s bottom, seeing if Grayson needs one. But, he doesn’t feel anything - nor does he smell anything - so he just moves his hand back to Grayson’s back, and continues to try and quiet him.
“Are you hungry, little man?” the musician asks, and as if the baby understood, his mouth begins sucking on Cook’s shoulder. It is a little gesture, but it tells Cook all he needs to know. “Alright, let’s get you a bottle,” he says, and holding the baby securely against his chest, Cook makes his way out of the room, and downstairs to the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, Cook begins to prepare a bottle for Grayson. He warms the bottle, all the while holding the baby, swaying ever so slightly to try and sooth the crying until he can get the bottle ready, and mixing formula (it is a art form, Cook figures out). When the bottle is warm enough, he pours the formula into the bottle, and makes his way back up to Grayson’s room.
In the room, he takes a seat on the rocking chair they have in the room, and cradles the little baby in his arms. Slowly, he places the bottle to the baby’s little mouth, and automatically, Grayson’s mouth latches onto the nipple, and he quickly begins to suck the formula from the bottle.
Cook stays like this for a few moments, making sure that Grayson isn’t taking in too much air, and that he isn’t drinking too fast, until finally, the mouth stops sucking on the nipple. The bottle is pretty much gone, so Cook doesn’t force Grayson to drink anymore, and he sets the bottle aside before putting the baby against his shoulder. He stands up, and begins moving around the room, all the while patting his baby’s back gently until he burps.
“Feel better, buddy?” he asks, pulling the baby away to look at his son, who looks so much like him, and the baby just looks back at him. The tears that were falling down his face are dried on his checks, and he looks quite content, and sleepy. It only takes a few more minutes of holding Grayson and swaying back and forth before the baby finally falls fast asleep against his shoulder.
Cook smiles softly at the little babe before he slowly, and as carefully as he can, removes the baby from his shoulder and puts him back in the crib. His face scrunches a little in protest, but Grayson doesn’t make a move to get up. The musician pulls the blanket over Grayson’s small frame, and leans down, giving him a soft kiss on the top of his head before quietly leaving the room, turning off the lamp, and closing the door.
There is drool and tears drying on his bare shoulder, formula drying on his hands, he is wide awake, and the sun is coming up in the east, but David Cook wouldn’t trade it in for anything in the world.