Title: The Way We Are
Title: The Way We Are
Author: carolion
Pairing: David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: R (semi-explicit sex)
Summary: When he's with Cook like this - he can't imagine not being with him.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. I do not know either David Cook or David Archuleta and this is a piece of fiction solely from my imagination and not based on any true events. This is fiction and is to be treated as such.
Author Notes: Posted this in my carolion journal first, so some of you may have already seen this.
Beta: asweetdownfall Thank you, darling! Any remaining mistakes are my own!
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~1300
Cook tilts David's chin up and presses his mouth against the curve of David's Adam’s apple, closing his lips around it with utmost care. His hand snakes up to twine his fingers with David's, and he presses them to the bed, holding him down tightly, squeezing. His other hand trails gently along the slim expanse of David's thigh, skirting up his bare leg with a feather light touch that leaves David whimpering slightly, his muscles tensing as Cook's touch skims the crease where his thigh meets his ass. It only caresses briefly before smoothing its way to David's hip, where Cook flattens his hand and slides it up David's ribcage possessively, his hand flexing as if he wants to grab David close and not let go, yet he keeps his touch gentle.
David keeps his head back and his eyes closed as Cook moves his mouth down in short, brief kisses, pressing his lips to the hollow of his throat, then kissing his left collarbone, his right, and down his chest. This singular attention to David's body never ceases to make his breath hitch and his cheeks flush, embarrassed and thrilled by Cook's devotion. He lifts his free hand, trembling, and curls his fingers at the base of Cook's neck, his fingernails carding through Cook's short hair carefully as he exhales and tries not to tremble all over. Cook rubs his stubble against the flat plane of David's abs and he huffs out a surprised laugh, the muscles jumping and quaking as Cook smiles against his skin and kisses his hip to apologize. His weight feels good pressing down on David's legs and pelvis, and David loves the way his chest hair rubs against him, heightening his sensations. He feels like every fiber of his being is reacting to Cook, like every nerve is attuned to him, and only him. It scares him sometimes, how intense he feels for Cook. It's love, he knows it's love, but he's terrified of the word, terrified of telling Cook though he's sure Cook feels the same. It's in the way he touches him, reverent and careful, and sometimes so desperate that David feels like he can't breathe.
Sometimes it's rough, and sometimes it's sudden. Sometimes it's all laughter and teasing and gasps. But it's times like these, when Cook and David barely speak at all, and everything is communicated in touches and movement and body language, that David feels the weight of them pressing on his chest. It wraps around his throat as if to choke him, and he finds himself so utterly unable to express himself in the face of Cook's devotion. It's heat and it's arousal and it's sex, yes, but it goes so much deeper, down to his bones, down to the very core of him, twining around what makes him him and threading through him. When he's with Cook like this - he can't imagine not being with him. He lives every moment of this on the brink of wondering when it's going to end, and desperately hoping it never ends, trying not to cling too much but never ever wanting to let go.
Cook lifts himself up and hovers over David, their bodies aligned, their faces at eye level. David opens his eyes and watches him, his fingers trapped by Cook's hand twitching slightly, his free hand ghosting over Cook's hip, gently holding. Cook's face is so familiar and it makes his heart ache, remembering a time when they didn't know each other at all. He's glad he'll never not know Cook again. David gazes into Cook's eyes steadily, even though he can feel his heart rate climbing every second they maintain eye contact. What is Cook looking for in his face? Is he finding what he wants to find? He relaxes when Cook smiles, and feels himself melt a little at the crinkle of Cook's eyes, the happy curve of his mouth. He smiles back automatically, feeling soft, feeling warm, tilting his hips up and lifting one of his legs to twine around Cook's body intimately. He's bolder here in bed with Cook than anywhere else in his life, and Cook leans down to kiss him, their lips brushing together teasingly, hands clenching, bodies starting to rock together. David makes a sound and Cook swallows it, coaxing his mouth open and then fusing them together, curving his arm underneath David's head.
He's lightheaded. He's not sure if it's the slick glide of their bodies together, or from the slow, deep, mind-numbing kisses, but he's seeing colored lights behind his eyes and his chest feels tight. He reaches up to grab at Cook's shoulder tightly, arching his back and keening into their kisses. Cook holds him tight, slows him down, slows their pace, letting go of David's hand so he can wrap both arms around him. David feels loved, completely encircled and engulfed by this man who made him rethink everything he'd known. David changed for Cook. And Cook changed for David too. Give and take, David thinks hazily as the heat coiled inside of him starts to spread out and out, and he can feel his breath coming faster and faster. Cook kisses with more intensity now, despite keeping their movements slow, and he makes deep, rough noises that somehow spur the frantic need inside David, turning his insides to jelly as he whimpers and shivers beneath Cook's heavy pressing weight.
When he comes apart, it's with a bone-melting shiver of release, and his whole body shudders and shakes. He moans low and sweet, just for Cook, only for Cook, always, and lets his head loll back onto the pillows and his lips part, his eyes close, and he just enjoys it. It's sweet, it's so sweet, and the afterglow is nearly as good, everything wetter than before, and hotter, and Cook just grinds himself off on David's body. It makes him flush with pleasure to be used like this, to offer himself up to Cook. When Cook comes, it's with a muffled growl, something that sounds like his name, and his whole body clenches and goes tight. His muscles stand out in stark detail and David can literally feel the curve of them pressing into his skin, hard lines and sharp angles sculpted from time with the personal trainer. His body shakes for a few seconds, and then he collapses on top of David, hurriedly rolling to the side so not to crush him, even though David didn't mind. He is still trembling a little when David turns and slides his hand over Cook's chest, his fingers slipping, aided by a thin sheen of sweat. Cook curls his arm where it's still trapped underneath David's head, and rolls the boy towards him, pressed together side by side as they lay panting and wrung out and still tender in their hearts from the emotion that passed between them.
They don't say anything. They don't have to. Not on days like these, not when it's like that. David imagines he can feel Cook's mind inside his, or at the very least feel his emotions thrumming off of him in waves, and he welcomes them all like he's basking in the sun, soaking up as much as he can. He's practically glowing, he knows, and it would be embarrassing if he could only dredge up the energy to care that he's acting like a fool, curled in tight and drinking in all that this is. But it's meant to be enjoyed, so David lets himself enjoy it. After a few minutes, Cook turns his head and presses his forehead to David's, taking deep, slow breaths, and David feels something shatter inside him, something fragile and wafer thin. He thinks maybe it's the last bit of resolve he had, to not fall helplessly for Cook. It's useless anyway, he thinks to himself, because he fell a long time ago.
Author: carolion
Pairing: David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: R (semi-explicit sex)
Summary: When he's with Cook like this - he can't imagine not being with him.
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. I do not know either David Cook or David Archuleta and this is a piece of fiction solely from my imagination and not based on any true events. This is fiction and is to be treated as such.
Author Notes: Posted this in my carolion journal first, so some of you may have already seen this.
Beta: asweetdownfall Thank you, darling! Any remaining mistakes are my own!
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~1300
Cook tilts David's chin up and presses his mouth against the curve of David's Adam’s apple, closing his lips around it with utmost care. His hand snakes up to twine his fingers with David's, and he presses them to the bed, holding him down tightly, squeezing. His other hand trails gently along the slim expanse of David's thigh, skirting up his bare leg with a feather light touch that leaves David whimpering slightly, his muscles tensing as Cook's touch skims the crease where his thigh meets his ass. It only caresses briefly before smoothing its way to David's hip, where Cook flattens his hand and slides it up David's ribcage possessively, his hand flexing as if he wants to grab David close and not let go, yet he keeps his touch gentle.
David keeps his head back and his eyes closed as Cook moves his mouth down in short, brief kisses, pressing his lips to the hollow of his throat, then kissing his left collarbone, his right, and down his chest. This singular attention to David's body never ceases to make his breath hitch and his cheeks flush, embarrassed and thrilled by Cook's devotion. He lifts his free hand, trembling, and curls his fingers at the base of Cook's neck, his fingernails carding through Cook's short hair carefully as he exhales and tries not to tremble all over. Cook rubs his stubble against the flat plane of David's abs and he huffs out a surprised laugh, the muscles jumping and quaking as Cook smiles against his skin and kisses his hip to apologize. His weight feels good pressing down on David's legs and pelvis, and David loves the way his chest hair rubs against him, heightening his sensations. He feels like every fiber of his being is reacting to Cook, like every nerve is attuned to him, and only him. It scares him sometimes, how intense he feels for Cook. It's love, he knows it's love, but he's terrified of the word, terrified of telling Cook though he's sure Cook feels the same. It's in the way he touches him, reverent and careful, and sometimes so desperate that David feels like he can't breathe.
Sometimes it's rough, and sometimes it's sudden. Sometimes it's all laughter and teasing and gasps. But it's times like these, when Cook and David barely speak at all, and everything is communicated in touches and movement and body language, that David feels the weight of them pressing on his chest. It wraps around his throat as if to choke him, and he finds himself so utterly unable to express himself in the face of Cook's devotion. It's heat and it's arousal and it's sex, yes, but it goes so much deeper, down to his bones, down to the very core of him, twining around what makes him him and threading through him. When he's with Cook like this - he can't imagine not being with him. He lives every moment of this on the brink of wondering when it's going to end, and desperately hoping it never ends, trying not to cling too much but never ever wanting to let go.
Cook lifts himself up and hovers over David, their bodies aligned, their faces at eye level. David opens his eyes and watches him, his fingers trapped by Cook's hand twitching slightly, his free hand ghosting over Cook's hip, gently holding. Cook's face is so familiar and it makes his heart ache, remembering a time when they didn't know each other at all. He's glad he'll never not know Cook again. David gazes into Cook's eyes steadily, even though he can feel his heart rate climbing every second they maintain eye contact. What is Cook looking for in his face? Is he finding what he wants to find? He relaxes when Cook smiles, and feels himself melt a little at the crinkle of Cook's eyes, the happy curve of his mouth. He smiles back automatically, feeling soft, feeling warm, tilting his hips up and lifting one of his legs to twine around Cook's body intimately. He's bolder here in bed with Cook than anywhere else in his life, and Cook leans down to kiss him, their lips brushing together teasingly, hands clenching, bodies starting to rock together. David makes a sound and Cook swallows it, coaxing his mouth open and then fusing them together, curving his arm underneath David's head.
He's lightheaded. He's not sure if it's the slick glide of their bodies together, or from the slow, deep, mind-numbing kisses, but he's seeing colored lights behind his eyes and his chest feels tight. He reaches up to grab at Cook's shoulder tightly, arching his back and keening into their kisses. Cook holds him tight, slows him down, slows their pace, letting go of David's hand so he can wrap both arms around him. David feels loved, completely encircled and engulfed by this man who made him rethink everything he'd known. David changed for Cook. And Cook changed for David too. Give and take, David thinks hazily as the heat coiled inside of him starts to spread out and out, and he can feel his breath coming faster and faster. Cook kisses with more intensity now, despite keeping their movements slow, and he makes deep, rough noises that somehow spur the frantic need inside David, turning his insides to jelly as he whimpers and shivers beneath Cook's heavy pressing weight.
When he comes apart, it's with a bone-melting shiver of release, and his whole body shudders and shakes. He moans low and sweet, just for Cook, only for Cook, always, and lets his head loll back onto the pillows and his lips part, his eyes close, and he just enjoys it. It's sweet, it's so sweet, and the afterglow is nearly as good, everything wetter than before, and hotter, and Cook just grinds himself off on David's body. It makes him flush with pleasure to be used like this, to offer himself up to Cook. When Cook comes, it's with a muffled growl, something that sounds like his name, and his whole body clenches and goes tight. His muscles stand out in stark detail and David can literally feel the curve of them pressing into his skin, hard lines and sharp angles sculpted from time with the personal trainer. His body shakes for a few seconds, and then he collapses on top of David, hurriedly rolling to the side so not to crush him, even though David didn't mind. He is still trembling a little when David turns and slides his hand over Cook's chest, his fingers slipping, aided by a thin sheen of sweat. Cook curls his arm where it's still trapped underneath David's head, and rolls the boy towards him, pressed together side by side as they lay panting and wrung out and still tender in their hearts from the emotion that passed between them.
They don't say anything. They don't have to. Not on days like these, not when it's like that. David imagines he can feel Cook's mind inside his, or at the very least feel his emotions thrumming off of him in waves, and he welcomes them all like he's basking in the sun, soaking up as much as he can. He's practically glowing, he knows, and it would be embarrassing if he could only dredge up the energy to care that he's acting like a fool, curled in tight and drinking in all that this is. But it's meant to be enjoyed, so David lets himself enjoy it. After a few minutes, Cook turns his head and presses his forehead to David's, taking deep, slow breaths, and David feels something shatter inside him, something fragile and wafer thin. He thinks maybe it's the last bit of resolve he had, to not fall helplessly for Cook. It's useless anyway, he thinks to himself, because he fell a long time ago.