hang a shining star upon the highest bough | cook/archuleta | pg13
word count ~3000
excerpt it just baffled david that, somewhere along the line, in his mind, it had never clicked that the release of his christmas album would be that big of a deal to cook.
notes a lengthy comment!fic for the lovely, stupendous jehane18, who requested a christmas ficlet. and with the recent leaks of several archie christmas songs, i hope you enjoy this early christmas gift! ♥♥♥
big, huge, amazing love to the incredible electricsauce for being my beta for this fic, and also to magnificent mellowdee and asmallsmackerel for giving it a read-over and helping me out. you all are fantastic. <3 any mistakes are all mine, of course.
it didn't take long for david to figure out that when cook put his mind to something, he put his mind to it. he just took the idea and ran with it. all the way.
like that time during the idol summer tour when cook had found an article online that spoke in-depth about cook's love for eyeliner, and how eyeliner just didn't work on cook, and cook had tipped his head back and laughed and laughed, and said, "talk about invested," and wore double the eyeliner for the last six shows.
or whenever cook had somehow discovered that brooke was a huge fan of polaroids, and at her 26th birthday party, he'd given her a polaroid camera, and like, 50 packages of color polaroid film, and david didn't even know how cook got those things because didn't polaroid cameras go off the market or something? and as if that wasn't enough, cook had also given her a scrapbook of polaroid photos he'd taken himself -- of backstage at idol, of late night guitar hero matches on tour - of their lives for the past two years. he'd even decorated the pages with cutouts of wrapping paper, and colorful marker designs as frames, and had penned lyrics and quotes in the corners and along the sides.
to say cook was extremely devoted to his causes would not be giving him the credit he deserved. he was over-the-top at times, but enthusiasm had never been a fault in david's book.
(nothing cook did was ever a fault to david, really - except when he would drop a dollop of shaving cream on the bathroom sink counter and forget to wipe it off, and barely-awake david would pad to the bathroom, bleary-eyed and yawning, and lean onto the counter, and one of his hands would land right in the dollop, and then he'd end up smearing it everywhere--)
it just baffled david that, somewhere along the line, in his mind, it had never clicked that the release of his christmas album would be that big of a deal to cook.
david was poorly, poorly mistaken.
first of all, david had been expecting to, you know, sleep the night before -- get a good night's rest and then wake up whenever. spend an hour just laying in bed, singing softly against cook's chin until he woke up, and then maybe kiss for about a week, and then fix breakfast and make some tea and do the daily crossword puzzle in the paper.
so david was changing for bed around eleven, cook humming in the bathroom while david switched into sweatpants, when he heard cook pause from his humming and call from the bathroom, "you ready?"
"um," david said, after a moment. he stumbled to the bathroom door and looked at cook. "yes?"
cook gave him a once-over, his eyebrows pinching together. "doesn't look like you are."
"this is what i usually wear to bed?" david glanced down at himself, making sure he hadn't managed to put on cook's cowboy boots on the walk from the bed to the bathroom or something.
cook half-gawked, half-laughed. "bed?" he said.
"yeah?"
"what are you talking about?"
"wait, what are you talking about?"
"i was wondering if you were ready to get going!"
"going?" david said. "what are you even talking about? where?"
"david!" cook said, surprised. in a motion too quick for david to anticipate, cook drew him into one of his tight-arms-bellies-touching hugs, laughing gently in his hair. "i can't even believe you."
"what?" david said. "what are you going on about?"
"your second album is being released tomorrow," cook said slowly, surely, making sure david could follow along. cook's chest hummed when he spoke, and david pressed his face into cook's shirt, breathing in.
"and," cook continued, "you're honestly expecting to just go to bed tonight?"
"what else would i do?"
"oh, i don't know," cook drawled, pulling back to look david in the eye. there was nothing but the giddiness of excitement in cook's face, in the way his eyes were so, so bright, and in the way the corner of his mouth drew upward. "maybe be the first person to buy your album? at midnight?"
what? "people do that?"
cook sighed melodramatically. "often."
"so," david said, tilting his head to the side curiously, "when you say 'are you ready to go,' you mean--"
"are you ready to get dressed and bundled up and go buy your album at the strike of midnight?" cook grinned. "yes, yes, that's exactly what i mean."
david stared at cook for a long moment; cook beamed back. "you're not going to take 'no' for an answer, are you?"
"nope!" cook said happily.
david sighed, forlorn, twisting his head slightly over his shoulder. he pouted at the bed. "and i was so looking forward to a good night's sleep."
"album first, sleep later," cook encouraged, steering david back to the closet. "after all," he added lightly, "as someone wise once said: you can sleep when you're dead."
"well," david said, leaning back into cook's hands, "technically--"
"album first, sleep later, then comes the logic. come on, archuleta, get with the program."
david didn't even know that there was a record store in rehoboth that was open 24/7, but, lo and behold, cook had found one -- and he also managed to snag some melted fruit sorbet along the way, and after they snuck into the store with their hoods up and their shades on and bought christmas from the heart at 12:02, they went for a walk on the beach, and cook gave him this hug and whispered, "i'm just so proud of you, arch, you're incredible," and tipped his chin back and kissed him, his mouth warm and sweet, his fingers cool and gentle against david's pulse.
totally better than any good night's sleep that ever existed. ever.
eventually, after david managed to restart his heart, they made their way back to the house, and dublin was already asleep, right in between their pillows, so the three of them settled down together for the night.
and david thought that was the extent of cook's enthusiasm.
he didn't seem to remember that this was cook, though, seriously.
when david woke up the next morning, at his usual early time, dublin and cook weren't beside him. he glanced around the empty sheets in confusion; he was always the first to get up. that was the first thing to set off the what the heck is going on bells in david's head.
then, when he was awake enough to get out of bed, he saw an outfit laid out on the dresser at the foot of the bed. and it wasn't so much an outfit as it was a pair of pajamas, deep red, and decorated with scattered santa clauses and christmas trees and wrapped gifts.
o-kay.
"cook?" he called out, warily. "uh - cook?"
downstairs was silent, but a brief glance to cook's nightstand showed that cook's wallet and keys were still there.
al-right.
david, mouth twisted in confusion, switched into the pajamas that, uh, he'd never even seen before. he stepped into his slippers and walked to the doorway, pausing, resting his hands on either doorjamb.
"cook?"
there was a long moment of silence, but then david heard just the slightest tinkle sound from downstairs, like the tiniest bell had just jingled, and then a very quiet, very muffled, "dubs! shh."
david grinned and skipped down the steps, listening to cook whisper, "seriously, dude, what are you even good for? you don't do the chores or bring in the money or anything."
"cooo-oook," david sang out as he stepped from the final stair to the floor. his slippers were quiet against the hardwood. david glanced around the dining room and found nothing out of the ordinary. "where aaare youuu?"
and there it was again, another tinkle, and it sounded like it was coming from the living room. david smiled and hummed and followed the sound with keen ears.
he only had to take one step into the kitchen before he realized something was seriously up.
there were a few dirty dishes in the sink, dishes that most definitely hadn't been there last night. and cook wasn't exactly the cooking type (not since the lemon meringue fiasco), so, that was just -- and then, there was a red light blinking on the oven, indicating that the stovetop was still hot. and did it smell like - pumpkins? and pancakes?
david skedaddled excitedly from the kitchen and tripped his way toward the living room, saying, "cook, what are you up to this time?" except he didn't really get the last bit out, because he finally reached the living room, and--
"oh my gosh," david whispered.
david's mouth fell open, his eyes slowly moving around the room. he didn't know where to look first. red and green and white paper chain links were spread along the corners where ceiling met wall, and there were snowflake window stickers stuck still on the window glass, and there was a fire going in the fireplace, crackling and warm, and oh my gosh, there was a christmas tree set up in a corner of the room, tall and green and lit up, and david could see some of his childhood ornaments hanging from the branches.
cook was sitting on the couch, watching david carefully, grinning when david exhaled, breathless and shaky. cook scratched dublin behind the ears - behind the headband of bell-adorned antlers he had dublin wearing. david laughed at dubs, and then lifted his eyes to cook's, slowly.
"cook?" he said, in awe.
"happy early christmas, david," cook said, standing up and wrapping his arms around david, tight and warm and like home. david squeezed him back just as tight.
"i figured," cook murmured, breath warm against david's neck, and david squirmed and laughed breathlessly, "since you couldn't release your album closer to christmas, i'd just have to bring christmas closer to your album."
then cook's hand was fumbling around him, stretching back around him, and, "cook, what are you--" and "shhh," and there was a click, and david heard his own voice singing from the speakers, joy to the world, and david shook his head and said, flustered, "aw, no, i don't - we don't have to," but then cook was singing along, harmonizing, rich and sweet in david's ear, and it was like christmas.
(sunlight lit up the living room, the warm, grey glow of early-morning sun kissing everything, and it caught on the tips of cook's hair, like a halo, and david touched him with gentle hands.)
(david sang ave maria to cook, whispering it against his cheek, and cook's skin was so warm against his lips as he murmured translations in pauses of lyrics, and cook strummed the guitar chords along his spine.)
"i can't figure out if you're sort of crazy," david said contemplatively, later, talking through a bite of pumpkin pancake, "or if you're just the most intense person i've ever met."
cook rolled his eyes at his coffee mug. "oh, c'mon, since when is it illegal to do nice things for my boyfriend?"
"since you moved christmas up two months!" david exclaimed. cook laughed. "seriously, cook, that's going way too far. and i - you even wrapped presents. presents! i'm totally not opening those until it's actually christmas," david said, indignantly, chomping on a sugar cookie.
cook started crawling toward david on the couch. "i'm afraid my powers of persuasion far exceed your powers of refusal," cook said, soft and low and with eyes that lifted the hairs on david's arm, and david swallowed his bite of cookie with a loud gulp, and cook grinned, and david shifted, and then cook attacked.
"cook, no!" david squealed. cook's fingers were skittish across david's stomach, pinching at the skin, drawing light squiggles around his belly button. "i can't - take it," david gasped out, laughing breathlessly. "uncle - cook, uncle! hahah, no, how many times do i have to say it! uncle! gosh, uncle! -- brother of my father! seriously - hahah - oh, no, what will it take!"
"open a present."
"cook," david said, chest heaving, and gave him a look.
"just one," cook encouraged, hands going to work across david's chest, finding the ticklish skin of his underarms, and behind his ears, and david's face scrunched in repressed laughter.
"just one?" he managed.
cook nodded.
"exactly how much did you spend on these presents, cook?"
cook laughed. "very, very little," he said, grinning, and david eyed him accusingly.
"just one?"
"they won't bite you!" cook said, leaning back onto his side of the couch and giving david's stomach one final tickle.
david threw him a look and stalked over to the christmas tree, kneeling down to get a better look at the presents. cook had spent way too much time planning this, if david had anything to say about it. "you know, when i was little, i wouldn't let my parents get me more than five things for christmas, and my birthday," david said casually, poking at the packages.
"mhm, okay," cook said from the couch. "i'm still getting you the gifts i want to get you, however many that may be, and you are going to have to deal with it."
david sighed, defeated, and picked up the present he'd been lingering on. it wasn't very big, the size a pack of tissues - the smallest gift of all of them. "okay, i found my one." he glanced back toward cook as he got to his feet, and found cook grinning at him, leaning excitedly onto the armrest.
"and that's the best one, too," cook said.
david looked down at the gift. "well, in that case--"
"oh no you don't," cook said, rolling onto his feet and grabbing david's wrist and tugging him onto the couch. they landed with a thunk. "you chose it, you open it. it's your destiny, or something."
"i'm going with the or something," david said, throwing cook a cheeky grin. he peeled off the wrapping paper, being careful not to rip it, because, hello, save for rewrapping, even as cook said, "archuleta, i want to put this gift to good use while i am still young and flexible."
well, that made him speed up a little bit, because, um, what?
and then there it was, a small and neat little booklet of stapled-together white paper in his lap, and the front page, decorated with yellow stars and blue flowers and red hearts and green pine trees, read "david archuleta's coupon book" in cook's lovely handwriting.
"what is this?" david asked, but he was already thumbing through it. on one page was written, "one free car hand-wash (valid only on a warm, summer day)." another page proclaimed, "a weekend's load of a laundry (in exchange for a kiss)." and david's favorite, "one week where i call in sick for us both, and we spend quality time with dubs and guitar hero and our bed sheets."
"these are your coupons," cook explained as david flipped through the booklet, "to use at your will. and they're split into sections -- there are the chores, and the non-necessities, and the guilty pleasures, and the - unmentionables," cook said, and david blushed hot at cook's devilish grin. "those are near the back," cook informed him, so david quickly stopped flipping through and went back to the very first page, and cook laughed.
one coupon caught david's eye: "one lazy morning, complete with breakfast in bed and a song (of your choice). (or maybe ten songs, because, you know, it's you.)"
david's throat suddenly felt too thick, and his eyes prickled. "cook," he said, thick, and looked up at cook, his smile watery. "this is just too much," he whispered.
cook stared at him for a long moment, his eyes soft and understanding, and then the corner of his mouth tipped up in a sympathetic smile. "what have i told you about that?" cook said, lying down on the couch and motioning for david to do the same. david scooted, his back pressed to cook's chest, and cook's arms circled around david's waist, and david sighed.
"'nothing is too much for you, archie,'" david sniffed.
"so, there you go," cook said, pressing his lips to david's hair.
"but this totally is."
"david james archuleta, i will take this gift away from you so quick you won't even see it coming," cook half-threatened, half-laughed, his hand stretching dramatically toward the booklet in david's hands, and david grinned shakily and said, "no," and cook said, "then keep it, and be happy, because that's all i want for you. i want for you to be happy, and, self-indulgent as it is, i love being the person to make you happy," cook admitted, squeezing david's middle and dropping a kiss to the back of his neck.
after an awkward couple of shifts, david managed to turn over so he faced cook. he tilted his head up, his nose touching cook's chin, and cook smiled down at him.
"i love my gift," david whispered. "thank you."
"you're so, so welcome. and your christmas record is beautiful - not that i'm biased, or anything."
david laughed, squinty-eyed and hiccup-like. "yeah, not at all." and then, on a more serious note, "i love everything you do for me, cook. it just feels like sometimes you do way too much for me -- i'm pretty sure i deserve about half of your generosity." david pondered. "maybe less than half, actually."
"and i'm pretty sure that you're sorely mistaken," cook said, touching his forehead to david's. "i love you," cook said, calm and sweet and sure, and his eyes so, so clear, and david's heart lurched and he was breathless when he whispered it back, "and i love showing you that i love you."
david smiled. "i know."
"and you should get used to over-the-top birthdays, and christmases, and valentine's days, because those are my prime love-showing holidays," cook said. david could feel cook's breath warm against his lips, and he leaned forward, and cook smiled knowingly and backed up enough to say, "and anyway, you're probably just worried because you won't know what to get me for christmas, because surely you couldn't top this," and then he broke into this laugh, soft and happy, and it made david laugh, too.
"that is definitely it," david grinned into the kiss.
david couldn't wait to plan cook's christmas gift.
--
excerpt it just baffled david that, somewhere along the line, in his mind, it had never clicked that the release of his christmas album would be that big of a deal to cook.
notes a lengthy comment!fic for the lovely, stupendous jehane18, who requested a christmas ficlet. and with the recent leaks of several archie christmas songs, i hope you enjoy this early christmas gift! ♥♥♥
big, huge, amazing love to the incredible electricsauce for being my beta for this fic, and also to magnificent mellowdee and asmallsmackerel for giving it a read-over and helping me out. you all are fantastic. <3 any mistakes are all mine, of course.
it didn't take long for david to figure out that when cook put his mind to something, he put his mind to it. he just took the idea and ran with it. all the way.
like that time during the idol summer tour when cook had found an article online that spoke in-depth about cook's love for eyeliner, and how eyeliner just didn't work on cook, and cook had tipped his head back and laughed and laughed, and said, "talk about invested," and wore double the eyeliner for the last six shows.
or whenever cook had somehow discovered that brooke was a huge fan of polaroids, and at her 26th birthday party, he'd given her a polaroid camera, and like, 50 packages of color polaroid film, and david didn't even know how cook got those things because didn't polaroid cameras go off the market or something? and as if that wasn't enough, cook had also given her a scrapbook of polaroid photos he'd taken himself -- of backstage at idol, of late night guitar hero matches on tour - of their lives for the past two years. he'd even decorated the pages with cutouts of wrapping paper, and colorful marker designs as frames, and had penned lyrics and quotes in the corners and along the sides.
to say cook was extremely devoted to his causes would not be giving him the credit he deserved. he was over-the-top at times, but enthusiasm had never been a fault in david's book.
(nothing cook did was ever a fault to david, really - except when he would drop a dollop of shaving cream on the bathroom sink counter and forget to wipe it off, and barely-awake david would pad to the bathroom, bleary-eyed and yawning, and lean onto the counter, and one of his hands would land right in the dollop, and then he'd end up smearing it everywhere--)
it just baffled david that, somewhere along the line, in his mind, it had never clicked that the release of his christmas album would be that big of a deal to cook.
david was poorly, poorly mistaken.
first of all, david had been expecting to, you know, sleep the night before -- get a good night's rest and then wake up whenever. spend an hour just laying in bed, singing softly against cook's chin until he woke up, and then maybe kiss for about a week, and then fix breakfast and make some tea and do the daily crossword puzzle in the paper.
so david was changing for bed around eleven, cook humming in the bathroom while david switched into sweatpants, when he heard cook pause from his humming and call from the bathroom, "you ready?"
"um," david said, after a moment. he stumbled to the bathroom door and looked at cook. "yes?"
cook gave him a once-over, his eyebrows pinching together. "doesn't look like you are."
"this is what i usually wear to bed?" david glanced down at himself, making sure he hadn't managed to put on cook's cowboy boots on the walk from the bed to the bathroom or something.
cook half-gawked, half-laughed. "bed?" he said.
"yeah?"
"what are you talking about?"
"wait, what are you talking about?"
"i was wondering if you were ready to get going!"
"going?" david said. "what are you even talking about? where?"
"david!" cook said, surprised. in a motion too quick for david to anticipate, cook drew him into one of his tight-arms-bellies-touching hugs, laughing gently in his hair. "i can't even believe you."
"what?" david said. "what are you going on about?"
"your second album is being released tomorrow," cook said slowly, surely, making sure david could follow along. cook's chest hummed when he spoke, and david pressed his face into cook's shirt, breathing in.
"and," cook continued, "you're honestly expecting to just go to bed tonight?"
"what else would i do?"
"oh, i don't know," cook drawled, pulling back to look david in the eye. there was nothing but the giddiness of excitement in cook's face, in the way his eyes were so, so bright, and in the way the corner of his mouth drew upward. "maybe be the first person to buy your album? at midnight?"
what? "people do that?"
cook sighed melodramatically. "often."
"so," david said, tilting his head to the side curiously, "when you say 'are you ready to go,' you mean--"
"are you ready to get dressed and bundled up and go buy your album at the strike of midnight?" cook grinned. "yes, yes, that's exactly what i mean."
david stared at cook for a long moment; cook beamed back. "you're not going to take 'no' for an answer, are you?"
"nope!" cook said happily.
david sighed, forlorn, twisting his head slightly over his shoulder. he pouted at the bed. "and i was so looking forward to a good night's sleep."
"album first, sleep later," cook encouraged, steering david back to the closet. "after all," he added lightly, "as someone wise once said: you can sleep when you're dead."
"well," david said, leaning back into cook's hands, "technically--"
"album first, sleep later, then comes the logic. come on, archuleta, get with the program."
david didn't even know that there was a record store in rehoboth that was open 24/7, but, lo and behold, cook had found one -- and he also managed to snag some melted fruit sorbet along the way, and after they snuck into the store with their hoods up and their shades on and bought christmas from the heart at 12:02, they went for a walk on the beach, and cook gave him this hug and whispered, "i'm just so proud of you, arch, you're incredible," and tipped his chin back and kissed him, his mouth warm and sweet, his fingers cool and gentle against david's pulse.
totally better than any good night's sleep that ever existed. ever.
eventually, after david managed to restart his heart, they made their way back to the house, and dublin was already asleep, right in between their pillows, so the three of them settled down together for the night.
and david thought that was the extent of cook's enthusiasm.
he didn't seem to remember that this was cook, though, seriously.
when david woke up the next morning, at his usual early time, dublin and cook weren't beside him. he glanced around the empty sheets in confusion; he was always the first to get up. that was the first thing to set off the what the heck is going on bells in david's head.
then, when he was awake enough to get out of bed, he saw an outfit laid out on the dresser at the foot of the bed. and it wasn't so much an outfit as it was a pair of pajamas, deep red, and decorated with scattered santa clauses and christmas trees and wrapped gifts.
o-kay.
"cook?" he called out, warily. "uh - cook?"
downstairs was silent, but a brief glance to cook's nightstand showed that cook's wallet and keys were still there.
al-right.
david, mouth twisted in confusion, switched into the pajamas that, uh, he'd never even seen before. he stepped into his slippers and walked to the doorway, pausing, resting his hands on either doorjamb.
"cook?"
there was a long moment of silence, but then david heard just the slightest tinkle sound from downstairs, like the tiniest bell had just jingled, and then a very quiet, very muffled, "dubs! shh."
david grinned and skipped down the steps, listening to cook whisper, "seriously, dude, what are you even good for? you don't do the chores or bring in the money or anything."
"cooo-oook," david sang out as he stepped from the final stair to the floor. his slippers were quiet against the hardwood. david glanced around the dining room and found nothing out of the ordinary. "where aaare youuu?"
and there it was again, another tinkle, and it sounded like it was coming from the living room. david smiled and hummed and followed the sound with keen ears.
he only had to take one step into the kitchen before he realized something was seriously up.
there were a few dirty dishes in the sink, dishes that most definitely hadn't been there last night. and cook wasn't exactly the cooking type (not since the lemon meringue fiasco), so, that was just -- and then, there was a red light blinking on the oven, indicating that the stovetop was still hot. and did it smell like - pumpkins? and pancakes?
david skedaddled excitedly from the kitchen and tripped his way toward the living room, saying, "cook, what are you up to this time?" except he didn't really get the last bit out, because he finally reached the living room, and--
"oh my gosh," david whispered.
david's mouth fell open, his eyes slowly moving around the room. he didn't know where to look first. red and green and white paper chain links were spread along the corners where ceiling met wall, and there were snowflake window stickers stuck still on the window glass, and there was a fire going in the fireplace, crackling and warm, and oh my gosh, there was a christmas tree set up in a corner of the room, tall and green and lit up, and david could see some of his childhood ornaments hanging from the branches.
cook was sitting on the couch, watching david carefully, grinning when david exhaled, breathless and shaky. cook scratched dublin behind the ears - behind the headband of bell-adorned antlers he had dublin wearing. david laughed at dubs, and then lifted his eyes to cook's, slowly.
"cook?" he said, in awe.
"happy early christmas, david," cook said, standing up and wrapping his arms around david, tight and warm and like home. david squeezed him back just as tight.
"i figured," cook murmured, breath warm against david's neck, and david squirmed and laughed breathlessly, "since you couldn't release your album closer to christmas, i'd just have to bring christmas closer to your album."
then cook's hand was fumbling around him, stretching back around him, and, "cook, what are you--" and "shhh," and there was a click, and david heard his own voice singing from the speakers, joy to the world, and david shook his head and said, flustered, "aw, no, i don't - we don't have to," but then cook was singing along, harmonizing, rich and sweet in david's ear, and it was like christmas.
(sunlight lit up the living room, the warm, grey glow of early-morning sun kissing everything, and it caught on the tips of cook's hair, like a halo, and david touched him with gentle hands.)
(david sang ave maria to cook, whispering it against his cheek, and cook's skin was so warm against his lips as he murmured translations in pauses of lyrics, and cook strummed the guitar chords along his spine.)
"i can't figure out if you're sort of crazy," david said contemplatively, later, talking through a bite of pumpkin pancake, "or if you're just the most intense person i've ever met."
cook rolled his eyes at his coffee mug. "oh, c'mon, since when is it illegal to do nice things for my boyfriend?"
"since you moved christmas up two months!" david exclaimed. cook laughed. "seriously, cook, that's going way too far. and i - you even wrapped presents. presents! i'm totally not opening those until it's actually christmas," david said, indignantly, chomping on a sugar cookie.
cook started crawling toward david on the couch. "i'm afraid my powers of persuasion far exceed your powers of refusal," cook said, soft and low and with eyes that lifted the hairs on david's arm, and david swallowed his bite of cookie with a loud gulp, and cook grinned, and david shifted, and then cook attacked.
"cook, no!" david squealed. cook's fingers were skittish across david's stomach, pinching at the skin, drawing light squiggles around his belly button. "i can't - take it," david gasped out, laughing breathlessly. "uncle - cook, uncle! hahah, no, how many times do i have to say it! uncle! gosh, uncle! -- brother of my father! seriously - hahah - oh, no, what will it take!"
"open a present."
"cook," david said, chest heaving, and gave him a look.
"just one," cook encouraged, hands going to work across david's chest, finding the ticklish skin of his underarms, and behind his ears, and david's face scrunched in repressed laughter.
"just one?" he managed.
cook nodded.
"exactly how much did you spend on these presents, cook?"
cook laughed. "very, very little," he said, grinning, and david eyed him accusingly.
"just one?"
"they won't bite you!" cook said, leaning back onto his side of the couch and giving david's stomach one final tickle.
david threw him a look and stalked over to the christmas tree, kneeling down to get a better look at the presents. cook had spent way too much time planning this, if david had anything to say about it. "you know, when i was little, i wouldn't let my parents get me more than five things for christmas, and my birthday," david said casually, poking at the packages.
"mhm, okay," cook said from the couch. "i'm still getting you the gifts i want to get you, however many that may be, and you are going to have to deal with it."
david sighed, defeated, and picked up the present he'd been lingering on. it wasn't very big, the size a pack of tissues - the smallest gift of all of them. "okay, i found my one." he glanced back toward cook as he got to his feet, and found cook grinning at him, leaning excitedly onto the armrest.
"and that's the best one, too," cook said.
david looked down at the gift. "well, in that case--"
"oh no you don't," cook said, rolling onto his feet and grabbing david's wrist and tugging him onto the couch. they landed with a thunk. "you chose it, you open it. it's your destiny, or something."
"i'm going with the or something," david said, throwing cook a cheeky grin. he peeled off the wrapping paper, being careful not to rip it, because, hello, save for rewrapping, even as cook said, "archuleta, i want to put this gift to good use while i am still young and flexible."
well, that made him speed up a little bit, because, um, what?
and then there it was, a small and neat little booklet of stapled-together white paper in his lap, and the front page, decorated with yellow stars and blue flowers and red hearts and green pine trees, read "david archuleta's coupon book" in cook's lovely handwriting.
"what is this?" david asked, but he was already thumbing through it. on one page was written, "one free car hand-wash (valid only on a warm, summer day)." another page proclaimed, "a weekend's load of a laundry (in exchange for a kiss)." and david's favorite, "one week where i call in sick for us both, and we spend quality time with dubs and guitar hero and our bed sheets."
"these are your coupons," cook explained as david flipped through the booklet, "to use at your will. and they're split into sections -- there are the chores, and the non-necessities, and the guilty pleasures, and the - unmentionables," cook said, and david blushed hot at cook's devilish grin. "those are near the back," cook informed him, so david quickly stopped flipping through and went back to the very first page, and cook laughed.
one coupon caught david's eye: "one lazy morning, complete with breakfast in bed and a song (of your choice). (or maybe ten songs, because, you know, it's you.)"
david's throat suddenly felt too thick, and his eyes prickled. "cook," he said, thick, and looked up at cook, his smile watery. "this is just too much," he whispered.
cook stared at him for a long moment, his eyes soft and understanding, and then the corner of his mouth tipped up in a sympathetic smile. "what have i told you about that?" cook said, lying down on the couch and motioning for david to do the same. david scooted, his back pressed to cook's chest, and cook's arms circled around david's waist, and david sighed.
"'nothing is too much for you, archie,'" david sniffed.
"so, there you go," cook said, pressing his lips to david's hair.
"but this totally is."
"david james archuleta, i will take this gift away from you so quick you won't even see it coming," cook half-threatened, half-laughed, his hand stretching dramatically toward the booklet in david's hands, and david grinned shakily and said, "no," and cook said, "then keep it, and be happy, because that's all i want for you. i want for you to be happy, and, self-indulgent as it is, i love being the person to make you happy," cook admitted, squeezing david's middle and dropping a kiss to the back of his neck.
after an awkward couple of shifts, david managed to turn over so he faced cook. he tilted his head up, his nose touching cook's chin, and cook smiled down at him.
"i love my gift," david whispered. "thank you."
"you're so, so welcome. and your christmas record is beautiful - not that i'm biased, or anything."
david laughed, squinty-eyed and hiccup-like. "yeah, not at all." and then, on a more serious note, "i love everything you do for me, cook. it just feels like sometimes you do way too much for me -- i'm pretty sure i deserve about half of your generosity." david pondered. "maybe less than half, actually."
"and i'm pretty sure that you're sorely mistaken," cook said, touching his forehead to david's. "i love you," cook said, calm and sweet and sure, and his eyes so, so clear, and david's heart lurched and he was breathless when he whispered it back, "and i love showing you that i love you."
david smiled. "i know."
"and you should get used to over-the-top birthdays, and christmases, and valentine's days, because those are my prime love-showing holidays," cook said. david could feel cook's breath warm against his lips, and he leaned forward, and cook smiled knowingly and backed up enough to say, "and anyway, you're probably just worried because you won't know what to get me for christmas, because surely you couldn't top this," and then he broke into this laugh, soft and happy, and it made david laugh, too.
"that is definitely it," david grinned into the kiss.
david couldn't wait to plan cook's christmas gift.
--