Title: Innocent [3/4]
Title: Innocent [3/4]
Author: x_heterophobic
Pairing: David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third, Archie-centric.
Summary: "We're going to do this right," Cook said firmly, "so, David Archuleta, do you want to, uh, do you want to go on a date with me?"
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.
Author Notes: So, funny story. My internet blipped out on me for EVER. I wanted to strangle someone. So I apologize in advance for how late this is, and also how maybe-kinda-scattered it may seem? I wrote it in bits more than I did in one big chunk, so I'm a little worried about how it flows. I hope it's okay and up to standard! Also, I'm so sorry it got so long. I have no idea what happened.
Warnings: Explicit sex time! Because I'm me and I can't resisit. Archie is eighteen and has graduated high school, though, so ease your minds.
Word Count: ~4100 (WHAT. WHAT.)
Extra: Part of the horseback!verse. Part one: Daytripper. Part two: Angels.
"We really should not have done that," Cook was saying gravely, the severity in his voice almost enough to stop David in his tracks. But then he remembered how it had felt, Cook's hand warm and rough on his skin, being pressed into the hay by his heavy weight, and David thought, 'Nononono,' and clutched the phone tighter.
"No, it was great! Really, I mean," David stuttered a little, "you were great." He was painfully aware of how shy his voice sounded, but he powered on. "I was wondering, um, if we could maybe do it again? And like," he licked his lips, "maybe not in the hay this time? Because, it was awesome, don't get me wrong, but like, it took forever to get all the pieces of straw out of my clothes, oh my gosh.
...Cook? Are you listening to me? Stop laughing!" He flushed, though Cook couldn't see it, and listened to the breathless, helpless laughter that spilled over the line.
"I'm sorry," Cook choked out, when he'd recovered, "it's just - I've never met anyone quite like you, Arch." It didn't sound like an insult. In fact, Cook sounded kind of fond, and David could imagine the smile on his face, and the way his eyes would go all soft. It was kind of distracting, even over the phone, and only returned the moment by Cook saying 'Archie?' all concerned.
"Oh! Um, what were you saying?" He tried desperately to remember the last few minutes of conversation, but could only see Cook's long eyelashes in his head and, um, yeah.
"I was just - listen, do you really want to do this?"
"Um, do what?" Because he was still kind of lost.
"Do this. Whatever we're - whatever we're doing." Cook sounded unsure of himself, hesitant. David’s heart leapt to his throat.
“Yes,” he responded immediately, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them close with one arm. “Yes, I want to - Cook of course I want to - if, I mean, if you want to?” What if Cook was trying to get rid of him? What if he was too pushy? What if, what if-!
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Cook’s voice was back to being warm, even a little relieved (though that may have been David’s imagination), and the sound of it curled around David like a security blanket. “Just - you - shit, I can’t believe I’m saying this - you deserve a lot better than a roll in the hay, okay?”
David caught his ‘don’t swear’ just before it left his mouth, and swallowed a little at the way Cook had said ‘you deserve a lot better.’
“I liked it?” he said feebly, feeling maybe a little lightheaded? Colors were kind of, um, swimming in front of his eyes. But it was the conviction he’d heard that was so - well, swoon-worthy? Gosh that sounded dumb. But this must be what ‘swooning’ was, because he totally had the urge to press the back of his hand against his forehead. And that was just, yeah.
“We’re going to do this right,” Cook said firmly, (and David kind of had urge to sway again, weird) “so, David Archuleta, do you want to, uh, do you want to go on a date with me?”
David did end up pressing his hand to his forehead. Oh, and saying yes, too.
It was really hard to lie to his family, but he knew they would think it was weird that he wanted to hang out with Cook instead of go to the theatre and dinner with them, and he didn’t want to have to explain why he wanted to hang out with Cook, the random Oklahoma cowboy he’d met two days ago (because, um, he wanted to get kissed some more, and maybe eat some hot dogs? And possibly get laid, because, uh, amazing, seriously) so he faked a headache and promised he’d call up for room service.
It left them pretty much the whole evening open, and David was beyond excited. Of course, he had nothing to wear. It wasn’t like he was planning on going out on any dates when he’d packed for the Tulsa vacation, so here he was, freaking out and digging through his things for at least one nice shirt. The best he could do was a navy polo shirt that made him look like a prep school student, and a casual pair of jeans that weren’t dirty. After fussing over his ridiculous hair (stay up or go down, gosh!) David flung himself onto his bed and waited, face down, for Cook’s knock at the door.
By the time it did come, David was so immersed in his own head that he actually fell off the bed in surprise. Cook must have heard the 'thump!' and subsequent 'ouch!' because he knocked again and called 'Archie? Are you okay?' through the door.
"I'm fine! Hold on, um, I'm coming!" He scrambled up and to the door, trying to compose himself before opening it and peering out at Cook. The older man was rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, looking out of place in the hallway of the hotel, especially since he was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots. David stared at his shoes for a minute and then looked up.
“Do you own any other shoes?” He blurted out, and then clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! That was so rude! I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” But Cook was laughing, one hand gripping onto the door frame as he balanced himself. David flushed and covered his eyes, completely embarrassed, but he figured that Cook laughing was actually a good sign, as opposed to him like, storming off or something like that.
David felt Cook’s fingers wrap around his wrist and pulled his hands down, revealing his eyes. Cook was smiling.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, rubbing his thumb along the soft underside of David’s wrist. “Even though that was kind of rude,” Cook teased, and reeled David from the hotel room. “Do you have everything you need? You’re not going to get locked out or anything, are you?”
“What? Oh, no. Um, I’m ready?” David looked up at Cook, noticing that his hair was styled, no longer flat from his hat, and he was pretty sure he smelled cologne? The idea that Cook had cleaned up for him, that he cared what David thought of him sent a thrill down his spine. He beamed and closed the hotel door behind them, shifting awkwardly next to the older man. “So, um, where are we going?” He’d never really been on a real date. Not like this, not like, where he might get kissed and there could be hands and tongues involved and, oh he should really stop thinking about this before, um, yeah.
Cook shrugged his shoulders up a little and grinned goofily. “You’re just going to have to find out,” he teased, but David went tense.
“Please tell me we’re not going to the theatre!” He squeaked out, panicking a little, because that’s where his family was, and oh my gosh, what if they ran into each other!
“Okay Arch, breathe. No, we’re not going to the theatre. I would have put on nicer boots, yeah?” David blushed, reminded of his fumble. “Just relax. I’m just - I’m going to show you were you can have a real good time in this city. It’ll be fun!”
David didn’t really doubt Cook’s words, but he still wasn’t totally confidant in Cook’s idea of ‘fun.’
He needn't have worried.
"Cook?" David wrapped a hand around Cook's forearm, curling in closer as they approached the seedy looking bar. "Can I get in here? I'm not, um, I'm not twenty one." Cook just patted his hand and opened the door for him, waving at the bouncer and ushering David in.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. Just don't drink, yeah?" David gaped at Cook, horrified, while the older man just laughed. "Okay, okay. I'm not really worried. We're here to see a band."
David cocked his head a little. "What band? Have I heard of them?" Because, okay, David's musical tastes may not be the most modern, but he knew a little! Sort of. Cook's face did this weird, flinchy thing before he pressed his lips together in an effort not to smile.
"Probably not, they're a local band." David nodded; that made sense. And it was nice of Cook to bring him to a place where he clearly came a lot, considering how many people were smiling and waving at them. David flushed a little when one of the patrons winked at him, and nudged Cook.
"He's cute Cook, is he with you or-"
“He’s with me,” Cook said shortly, and hooked an arm around David’s neck. The smile he sent the other man was more of a warning than a friendly gesture, and David felt a bloom of warmth in the center of his stomach. He let Cook steer him to one of the bar stools and waited patiently as Cook had a quick word with the bartender.
“Hey,” Cook smiled, and his eyes crinkled up a little. He rubbed one palm up David’s jeans where they stretched across his thighs, and David immediately dropped his eyes to watch, his leg twitching a little on the upstroke. “Hey,” Cook repeated, and David looked up at him. “I’m gonna go for a second, just stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”
He started to walk off and David felt kind of weird. Like, empty, maybe? Empty, and sort of alone. It was just - he wanted to spend time with Cook. He really did. And it hurt to watch him walk away, even if he was going to be right back. Maybe that was selfish of him. He wasn’t totally sure. But the most Cook had done tonight was put an arm around his shoulders, and David thought this was a date, and they were doing things ’right’, and that you were supposed to do, like, couple-y things on dates, and-
His thoughts were interrupted when Cook came rushing back, his hands reaching up to cup David’s jaw and tilt his face up. “Wha-?” David managed, before Cook was kissing him. He melted into it, his fingers wrapped around Cook’s wrists, just holding on, and he opened his mouth immediately. Cook pulled off too soon, and stroked a thumb against David’s cheek.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised.
“Uh huh,” David said, and then - “Kiss me?”
Cook kissed him. It was easier to watch him walk away after that.
He was gone for more than a few minutes though, and David was starting to panic a little. Ten minutes was too long, wasn't it? Should he wait fifteen? Had he just been left here? No, no way. Even if Cook didn't like him, or didn't want him, he was way too nice a guy to just abandon David here by himself. He made himself take a big sip from the glass of water the bartender had left him, and thought about how late his parents would be out, and how, maybe, he could - they could - maybe?
He didn't even notice the band setting up, until he heard Cook's voice over the sound system.
David sat straight up in his seat, his eyes zeroing in on the stage where Cook was holding a guitar and standing at the mic, and oh my gosh! Cook was going to play! David remembered their first conversation, after Cook had saved him, and how he'd begged Cook to sing something after the other man had admitted to being in a band, and how Cook had refused to do so. David felt strangely hot all over, and though he kind of wanted to duck his head and look at his shoes, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Cook.
"So this performance, the whole set actually, is going to be dedicated to my good friend David Archuleta!" Cook pointed to the back of the bar, where David was seated, and like, the entire crowd turned to look at him, some cat-calling and cheering. "So, here you go Arch, this is for you." Cook's smile was blinding, and David thought his heart was going to try and burst through his chest, it was beating so fast. And he hadn't even started playing yet.
"This song is a cover, by one of my all time favorite bands, Our Lady Peace. It's called 'Innocent.'" That was all the introduction needed. Then it was just the band (and, was that Neal? Oh my gosh it totally was!) and Cook's voice pouring over him, making him shiver.
Cook was good. Cook was more than good, he was amazing. David was completely in awe of him, and even though this wasn't really his style of music, he really, really liked it. David was a fan of music, all music, good music, and this was no exception. The set flowed freely, energized and powerful, the crowd hooting and hollering and dancing. Even the original songs that Cook had penned, they were - they were awesome! He kept his fists clenched tight through the entire thing, biting his lip until it started to hurt, and stayed on the edge of his seat.
By the time the band finished, Cook was completely soaked in sweat. David could not care less, however, and he was vibrating, trying to stay still as the man came towards him, stopping every once and awhile to talk to someone, or thank them. As soon as he was close enough, David leaned up and gripped his sweaty shirt, dragging him down to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Cook was laughing as they separated.
"So you like lead singers, huh?" He teased, and David had to roll his eyes a little because, oh gosh, how lame.
"I like you," David said in response, and only realized how silly and girlish that sounded after it had come out of his mouth. Cook's mouth went all gentle though, and he pressed his lips to David's temple.
"Lemme just get a beer, and then we'll get out of here, okay Archie?"
To which David had responded, "Oh my gosh, Cook! You totally shouldn't drink and drive!"
Cook ended up passing on the beer, due to David's insistence, and drove them to a little pizza joint. They talked for almost an hour over their meal, the conversation ranging from their families to music to television to even some philosophical debate, though David felt completely outclassed by Cook, who was like, a complete smarty pants and never told him!
"I thought you were just a simple cowboy," David complained, which had set Cook off laughing again, before he explained that yes, he'd gone to college and yes, he'd done well in college. David threw a piece of pepperoni at him which, annoyingly, Cook caught in his mouth.
David was so not ready to go back to the hotel after dinner, so he begged Cook for some ice cream. And even after that was gone (with some interruptions from Cook, who had pressed him against the wall a couple of times to lick the ice cream from his mouth) he wasn't ready. So when Cook started heading towards the car, David snagged his jacket in his hand.
"Can I, um, can I see your place?" He hoped he didn't sound too, whatever, desperate. Cook stared at him. "It's only quarter to eleven, and my family won't be back until past midnight and I just, I want to - I want to hang out with you?" It sounded weak, even to him.
"David Archuleta, do I look like the kind of guy who puts out on the first date?" Cook scolded, but he was pushing David up again his car, and sliding a hand up David's shirt and, oh, his hands were kind of cold, maybe from being outside? Or maybe from the ice cream? And it was, um, kind of hard to think, or like, say anything. His kissed just behind David's ear, and gosh, that swoony feeling was back.
"Okay," Cook said, in this low, gentle voice. "We can go back to my place." And he got into the car.
The drive was pretty quiet, the radio turned down, though David hummed along to the songs he knew. Mostly he looked at Cook, or looked out the window, and wondered how far Cook would let him go. He wasn't stupid. He'd done, like, research and stuff. And this was probably way too fast to go 'all the way' but this was not a normal relationship by any means. Cook was a cowboy, who had saved David's life, and David wasn't even here for much longer and he just, there was something about Cook, and it was like - he couldn't even describe it. He was nervous, sure, but he was excited and kind of, like, at peace. This felt right to him.
It was a tiny little apartment that Cook lived in, but at least he lived in it alone, and it was mostly clean. There were clothes and papers scattered all over, and a couple of dirty pots in the sink, but it wasn't actually dirty, just kind of messy.
David didn't even try to pretend like he was interested in the apartment though. He just wrapped his arms around Cook's neck and kissed him, sucking on his bottom lip slow and sweet, drawing it out. Cook's hands fanned against his back, so light and gentle. He wasn't pressing or holding, just touching, and it made David's whole body shiver with sensation. They kissed for a long time, touching each other reverently. He didn't even notice when he started to undo the buttons on Cook's shirt, but he broke away from the kiss to push it off of him, running a hand along his bare stomach and sliding it up his chest. Cook shuddered and pressed his forehead to David's, his eyes shut and his lashes dark against his cheeks. He thumbed one nipple curiously, and felt Cook grinning into his skin. David pressed his palm flat against the place where he could feel Cook's heart beating, and tilted his face for another kiss.
It didn't seem to take long for them to get completely naked and into the bedroom. It was surreal, being so vulnerable for someone, letting them see all of you, and it was kind of scary too. But Cook was right there, being vulnerable along with him, and he just - it was - everything kind of melted away.
"What do you want?" Cook asked, his voice pitched low. He was hovering above David, one hand stroking David's hair gently, the other bracing against the bed. Oh, gosh, Cook was going to make him ask for it?
"Can you um," David stuttered, and closed his eyes, "can you um, I want, please," why was this so hard to say? "make love to me?" His voice was trembling, broken open, and he was sure that Cook would scoff at him and his childish ideals. But he didn't. Cook just leaned down and kissed him, pressing everything into it that he could, before drawing back.
"I can do that," he said gravely, and David's body thrummed with anticipation.
It kind of, well, it didn't hurt, not at all, but it was sort of uncomfortable at first. Cook's fingers had been cold from the lube, and it had been awkward, on all fours like this. (Cook wouldn't do it any other way though, said it would be easiest. David had maybe muttered something about wanting it to be intimate, and Cook had leaned over him and said, in his ear, "Baby I can make it intimate," and David wasn't sure if it was because Cook had called him 'baby' or if it was Cook's tone of voice, or what, but the hot flush of arousal that had swept through him left him gasping.) He must have made some weird noises, because a couple of times Cook had frozen and said, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" and David had to reassure him he was fine, to keep going, please.
Eventually it had gotten like, Cook had done this thing? Where his fingers sort of, and, um, David really liked it. Like, a lot. So much that Cook had said "Jesus Christ Archie!" and pulled his fingers out, shaking. David made a lot of embarrassing noises in the time between having Cook's fingers inside of him, and having Cook inside of him. There was some whining and, like, pleading? And he was braced on his forearms and he just felt so wide open and completely fragile, and he couldn't help it. He felt, well, empty. And he just wanted Cook to fill him up, as much as the thought made him blush.
By the time Cook did press into him, David though the world was going to explode. His fingers were gripping the sheets tight, and his face was pressed against one of the pillows. He was saying something, something like "Oh, gosh, Cook, please, oh," and Cook was saying "Shit, oh my god, don't - don't move," in this really shaky voice and David felt something swell in his chest, something surprisingly sweet and warm.
The feeling only doubled when Cook's chest pressed against his back, and Cook was completely inside of him, and there was, it was amazing, and Cook's mouth, right next to his ear, saying things.
"You're so, oh fuck, I've never - you're the only one," and David had no idea what that meant but it made him want to cry. "You're the only one, Archie," Cook repeated into his hair, and hitched his hips up in a way that made David sob out loud, squeezing his eyes tight and pushing back against the other man.
Every stroke made David wilder and wilder, until he was sure he wasn't even speaking English anymore, just begging in some guttural voice.
"Cook, gosh, please just - touch me, please, please, touch me!"
Cook wrapped an arm around him, and his hand found David's erection, and he stroked him hard and quick and in time with Cook's thrusts, which was just, David was sure he was screaming, mewling, and he heard "Fuck, fuck, fuck," in his ear and thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
He curled up on Cook's chest, after, holding onto the man's hand and pressing his lips against the knuckles. Cook brushed back his hair gently and lay there, letting David hang on to him.
"I leave in two days," David whispered.
"I know," Cook said, softly.
"I'm probably never going to see you again."
"I know."
David rolled off of Cook, turned his face to the pillows, and cried.
He got home before his family did, which was kind of a miracle. But he could barely manage the effort to be grateful for that, so drained from the night as he was. It wasn't - he didn't regret anything, not even getting run off with, not even falling for Cook, a little bit. Because it had been, all of it, the best time he'd ever had.
Cook had walked him all the way to the door, one hand on his elbow as if to steady him, and David had been grateful for the support. They hadn't said anything at first, Cook just wrapped him up in a hug and held him close for a long while.
"We'll still talk," Cook had said, his voice rumbling against David. "We can call each other, exchange emails."
"Yeah," David mumbled, then pulled back and said, "Kiss me?"
Cook kissed him. This time it was harder to watch him walk away. David forced himself to walk into the hotel room, and close the door. Two days, and he'd leave Tulsa, Oklahoma in the rearview mirror. And he'd never see David Cook again.
Author: x_heterophobic
Pairing: David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third, Archie-centric.
Summary: "We're going to do this right," Cook said firmly, "so, David Archuleta, do you want to, uh, do you want to go on a date with me?"
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.
Author Notes: So, funny story. My internet blipped out on me for EVER. I wanted to strangle someone. So I apologize in advance for how late this is, and also how maybe-kinda-scattered it may seem? I wrote it in bits more than I did in one big chunk, so I'm a little worried about how it flows. I hope it's okay and up to standard! Also, I'm so sorry it got so long. I have no idea what happened.
Warnings: Explicit sex time! Because I'm me and I can't resisit. Archie is eighteen and has graduated high school, though, so ease your minds.
Word Count: ~4100 (WHAT. WHAT.)
Extra: Part of the horseback!verse. Part one: Daytripper. Part two: Angels.
"We really should not have done that," Cook was saying gravely, the severity in his voice almost enough to stop David in his tracks. But then he remembered how it had felt, Cook's hand warm and rough on his skin, being pressed into the hay by his heavy weight, and David thought, 'Nononono,' and clutched the phone tighter.
"No, it was great! Really, I mean," David stuttered a little, "you were great." He was painfully aware of how shy his voice sounded, but he powered on. "I was wondering, um, if we could maybe do it again? And like," he licked his lips, "maybe not in the hay this time? Because, it was awesome, don't get me wrong, but like, it took forever to get all the pieces of straw out of my clothes, oh my gosh.
...Cook? Are you listening to me? Stop laughing!" He flushed, though Cook couldn't see it, and listened to the breathless, helpless laughter that spilled over the line.
"I'm sorry," Cook choked out, when he'd recovered, "it's just - I've never met anyone quite like you, Arch." It didn't sound like an insult. In fact, Cook sounded kind of fond, and David could imagine the smile on his face, and the way his eyes would go all soft. It was kind of distracting, even over the phone, and only returned the moment by Cook saying 'Archie?' all concerned.
"Oh! Um, what were you saying?" He tried desperately to remember the last few minutes of conversation, but could only see Cook's long eyelashes in his head and, um, yeah.
"I was just - listen, do you really want to do this?"
"Um, do what?" Because he was still kind of lost.
"Do this. Whatever we're - whatever we're doing." Cook sounded unsure of himself, hesitant. David’s heart leapt to his throat.
“Yes,” he responded immediately, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them close with one arm. “Yes, I want to - Cook of course I want to - if, I mean, if you want to?” What if Cook was trying to get rid of him? What if he was too pushy? What if, what if-!
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Cook’s voice was back to being warm, even a little relieved (though that may have been David’s imagination), and the sound of it curled around David like a security blanket. “Just - you - shit, I can’t believe I’m saying this - you deserve a lot better than a roll in the hay, okay?”
David caught his ‘don’t swear’ just before it left his mouth, and swallowed a little at the way Cook had said ‘you deserve a lot better.’
“I liked it?” he said feebly, feeling maybe a little lightheaded? Colors were kind of, um, swimming in front of his eyes. But it was the conviction he’d heard that was so - well, swoon-worthy? Gosh that sounded dumb. But this must be what ‘swooning’ was, because he totally had the urge to press the back of his hand against his forehead. And that was just, yeah.
“We’re going to do this right,” Cook said firmly, (and David kind of had urge to sway again, weird) “so, David Archuleta, do you want to, uh, do you want to go on a date with me?”
David did end up pressing his hand to his forehead. Oh, and saying yes, too.
It was really hard to lie to his family, but he knew they would think it was weird that he wanted to hang out with Cook instead of go to the theatre and dinner with them, and he didn’t want to have to explain why he wanted to hang out with Cook, the random Oklahoma cowboy he’d met two days ago (because, um, he wanted to get kissed some more, and maybe eat some hot dogs? And possibly get laid, because, uh, amazing, seriously) so he faked a headache and promised he’d call up for room service.
It left them pretty much the whole evening open, and David was beyond excited. Of course, he had nothing to wear. It wasn’t like he was planning on going out on any dates when he’d packed for the Tulsa vacation, so here he was, freaking out and digging through his things for at least one nice shirt. The best he could do was a navy polo shirt that made him look like a prep school student, and a casual pair of jeans that weren’t dirty. After fussing over his ridiculous hair (stay up or go down, gosh!) David flung himself onto his bed and waited, face down, for Cook’s knock at the door.
By the time it did come, David was so immersed in his own head that he actually fell off the bed in surprise. Cook must have heard the 'thump!' and subsequent 'ouch!' because he knocked again and called 'Archie? Are you okay?' through the door.
"I'm fine! Hold on, um, I'm coming!" He scrambled up and to the door, trying to compose himself before opening it and peering out at Cook. The older man was rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, looking out of place in the hallway of the hotel, especially since he was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots. David stared at his shoes for a minute and then looked up.
“Do you own any other shoes?” He blurted out, and then clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! That was so rude! I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” But Cook was laughing, one hand gripping onto the door frame as he balanced himself. David flushed and covered his eyes, completely embarrassed, but he figured that Cook laughing was actually a good sign, as opposed to him like, storming off or something like that.
David felt Cook’s fingers wrap around his wrist and pulled his hands down, revealing his eyes. Cook was smiling.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, rubbing his thumb along the soft underside of David’s wrist. “Even though that was kind of rude,” Cook teased, and reeled David from the hotel room. “Do you have everything you need? You’re not going to get locked out or anything, are you?”
“What? Oh, no. Um, I’m ready?” David looked up at Cook, noticing that his hair was styled, no longer flat from his hat, and he was pretty sure he smelled cologne? The idea that Cook had cleaned up for him, that he cared what David thought of him sent a thrill down his spine. He beamed and closed the hotel door behind them, shifting awkwardly next to the older man. “So, um, where are we going?” He’d never really been on a real date. Not like this, not like, where he might get kissed and there could be hands and tongues involved and, oh he should really stop thinking about this before, um, yeah.
Cook shrugged his shoulders up a little and grinned goofily. “You’re just going to have to find out,” he teased, but David went tense.
“Please tell me we’re not going to the theatre!” He squeaked out, panicking a little, because that’s where his family was, and oh my gosh, what if they ran into each other!
“Okay Arch, breathe. No, we’re not going to the theatre. I would have put on nicer boots, yeah?” David blushed, reminded of his fumble. “Just relax. I’m just - I’m going to show you were you can have a real good time in this city. It’ll be fun!”
David didn’t really doubt Cook’s words, but he still wasn’t totally confidant in Cook’s idea of ‘fun.’
He needn't have worried.
"Cook?" David wrapped a hand around Cook's forearm, curling in closer as they approached the seedy looking bar. "Can I get in here? I'm not, um, I'm not twenty one." Cook just patted his hand and opened the door for him, waving at the bouncer and ushering David in.
"Yeah, don't worry about it. Just don't drink, yeah?" David gaped at Cook, horrified, while the older man just laughed. "Okay, okay. I'm not really worried. We're here to see a band."
David cocked his head a little. "What band? Have I heard of them?" Because, okay, David's musical tastes may not be the most modern, but he knew a little! Sort of. Cook's face did this weird, flinchy thing before he pressed his lips together in an effort not to smile.
"Probably not, they're a local band." David nodded; that made sense. And it was nice of Cook to bring him to a place where he clearly came a lot, considering how many people were smiling and waving at them. David flushed a little when one of the patrons winked at him, and nudged Cook.
"He's cute Cook, is he with you or-"
“He’s with me,” Cook said shortly, and hooked an arm around David’s neck. The smile he sent the other man was more of a warning than a friendly gesture, and David felt a bloom of warmth in the center of his stomach. He let Cook steer him to one of the bar stools and waited patiently as Cook had a quick word with the bartender.
“Hey,” Cook smiled, and his eyes crinkled up a little. He rubbed one palm up David’s jeans where they stretched across his thighs, and David immediately dropped his eyes to watch, his leg twitching a little on the upstroke. “Hey,” Cook repeated, and David looked up at him. “I’m gonna go for a second, just stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”
He started to walk off and David felt kind of weird. Like, empty, maybe? Empty, and sort of alone. It was just - he wanted to spend time with Cook. He really did. And it hurt to watch him walk away, even if he was going to be right back. Maybe that was selfish of him. He wasn’t totally sure. But the most Cook had done tonight was put an arm around his shoulders, and David thought this was a date, and they were doing things ’right’, and that you were supposed to do, like, couple-y things on dates, and-
His thoughts were interrupted when Cook came rushing back, his hands reaching up to cup David’s jaw and tilt his face up. “Wha-?” David managed, before Cook was kissing him. He melted into it, his fingers wrapped around Cook’s wrists, just holding on, and he opened his mouth immediately. Cook pulled off too soon, and stroked a thumb against David’s cheek.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised.
“Uh huh,” David said, and then - “Kiss me?”
Cook kissed him. It was easier to watch him walk away after that.
He was gone for more than a few minutes though, and David was starting to panic a little. Ten minutes was too long, wasn't it? Should he wait fifteen? Had he just been left here? No, no way. Even if Cook didn't like him, or didn't want him, he was way too nice a guy to just abandon David here by himself. He made himself take a big sip from the glass of water the bartender had left him, and thought about how late his parents would be out, and how, maybe, he could - they could - maybe?
He didn't even notice the band setting up, until he heard Cook's voice over the sound system.
David sat straight up in his seat, his eyes zeroing in on the stage where Cook was holding a guitar and standing at the mic, and oh my gosh! Cook was going to play! David remembered their first conversation, after Cook had saved him, and how he'd begged Cook to sing something after the other man had admitted to being in a band, and how Cook had refused to do so. David felt strangely hot all over, and though he kind of wanted to duck his head and look at his shoes, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Cook.
"So this performance, the whole set actually, is going to be dedicated to my good friend David Archuleta!" Cook pointed to the back of the bar, where David was seated, and like, the entire crowd turned to look at him, some cat-calling and cheering. "So, here you go Arch, this is for you." Cook's smile was blinding, and David thought his heart was going to try and burst through his chest, it was beating so fast. And he hadn't even started playing yet.
"This song is a cover, by one of my all time favorite bands, Our Lady Peace. It's called 'Innocent.'" That was all the introduction needed. Then it was just the band (and, was that Neal? Oh my gosh it totally was!) and Cook's voice pouring over him, making him shiver.
Cook was good. Cook was more than good, he was amazing. David was completely in awe of him, and even though this wasn't really his style of music, he really, really liked it. David was a fan of music, all music, good music, and this was no exception. The set flowed freely, energized and powerful, the crowd hooting and hollering and dancing. Even the original songs that Cook had penned, they were - they were awesome! He kept his fists clenched tight through the entire thing, biting his lip until it started to hurt, and stayed on the edge of his seat.
By the time the band finished, Cook was completely soaked in sweat. David could not care less, however, and he was vibrating, trying to stay still as the man came towards him, stopping every once and awhile to talk to someone, or thank them. As soon as he was close enough, David leaned up and gripped his sweaty shirt, dragging him down to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Cook was laughing as they separated.
"So you like lead singers, huh?" He teased, and David had to roll his eyes a little because, oh gosh, how lame.
"I like you," David said in response, and only realized how silly and girlish that sounded after it had come out of his mouth. Cook's mouth went all gentle though, and he pressed his lips to David's temple.
"Lemme just get a beer, and then we'll get out of here, okay Archie?"
To which David had responded, "Oh my gosh, Cook! You totally shouldn't drink and drive!"
Cook ended up passing on the beer, due to David's insistence, and drove them to a little pizza joint. They talked for almost an hour over their meal, the conversation ranging from their families to music to television to even some philosophical debate, though David felt completely outclassed by Cook, who was like, a complete smarty pants and never told him!
"I thought you were just a simple cowboy," David complained, which had set Cook off laughing again, before he explained that yes, he'd gone to college and yes, he'd done well in college. David threw a piece of pepperoni at him which, annoyingly, Cook caught in his mouth.
David was so not ready to go back to the hotel after dinner, so he begged Cook for some ice cream. And even after that was gone (with some interruptions from Cook, who had pressed him against the wall a couple of times to lick the ice cream from his mouth) he wasn't ready. So when Cook started heading towards the car, David snagged his jacket in his hand.
"Can I, um, can I see your place?" He hoped he didn't sound too, whatever, desperate. Cook stared at him. "It's only quarter to eleven, and my family won't be back until past midnight and I just, I want to - I want to hang out with you?" It sounded weak, even to him.
"David Archuleta, do I look like the kind of guy who puts out on the first date?" Cook scolded, but he was pushing David up again his car, and sliding a hand up David's shirt and, oh, his hands were kind of cold, maybe from being outside? Or maybe from the ice cream? And it was, um, kind of hard to think, or like, say anything. His kissed just behind David's ear, and gosh, that swoony feeling was back.
"Okay," Cook said, in this low, gentle voice. "We can go back to my place." And he got into the car.
The drive was pretty quiet, the radio turned down, though David hummed along to the songs he knew. Mostly he looked at Cook, or looked out the window, and wondered how far Cook would let him go. He wasn't stupid. He'd done, like, research and stuff. And this was probably way too fast to go 'all the way' but this was not a normal relationship by any means. Cook was a cowboy, who had saved David's life, and David wasn't even here for much longer and he just, there was something about Cook, and it was like - he couldn't even describe it. He was nervous, sure, but he was excited and kind of, like, at peace. This felt right to him.
It was a tiny little apartment that Cook lived in, but at least he lived in it alone, and it was mostly clean. There were clothes and papers scattered all over, and a couple of dirty pots in the sink, but it wasn't actually dirty, just kind of messy.
David didn't even try to pretend like he was interested in the apartment though. He just wrapped his arms around Cook's neck and kissed him, sucking on his bottom lip slow and sweet, drawing it out. Cook's hands fanned against his back, so light and gentle. He wasn't pressing or holding, just touching, and it made David's whole body shiver with sensation. They kissed for a long time, touching each other reverently. He didn't even notice when he started to undo the buttons on Cook's shirt, but he broke away from the kiss to push it off of him, running a hand along his bare stomach and sliding it up his chest. Cook shuddered and pressed his forehead to David's, his eyes shut and his lashes dark against his cheeks. He thumbed one nipple curiously, and felt Cook grinning into his skin. David pressed his palm flat against the place where he could feel Cook's heart beating, and tilted his face for another kiss.
It didn't seem to take long for them to get completely naked and into the bedroom. It was surreal, being so vulnerable for someone, letting them see all of you, and it was kind of scary too. But Cook was right there, being vulnerable along with him, and he just - it was - everything kind of melted away.
"What do you want?" Cook asked, his voice pitched low. He was hovering above David, one hand stroking David's hair gently, the other bracing against the bed. Oh, gosh, Cook was going to make him ask for it?
"Can you um," David stuttered, and closed his eyes, "can you um, I want, please," why was this so hard to say? "make love to me?" His voice was trembling, broken open, and he was sure that Cook would scoff at him and his childish ideals. But he didn't. Cook just leaned down and kissed him, pressing everything into it that he could, before drawing back.
"I can do that," he said gravely, and David's body thrummed with anticipation.
It kind of, well, it didn't hurt, not at all, but it was sort of uncomfortable at first. Cook's fingers had been cold from the lube, and it had been awkward, on all fours like this. (Cook wouldn't do it any other way though, said it would be easiest. David had maybe muttered something about wanting it to be intimate, and Cook had leaned over him and said, in his ear, "Baby I can make it intimate," and David wasn't sure if it was because Cook had called him 'baby' or if it was Cook's tone of voice, or what, but the hot flush of arousal that had swept through him left him gasping.) He must have made some weird noises, because a couple of times Cook had frozen and said, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" and David had to reassure him he was fine, to keep going, please.
Eventually it had gotten like, Cook had done this thing? Where his fingers sort of, and, um, David really liked it. Like, a lot. So much that Cook had said "Jesus Christ Archie!" and pulled his fingers out, shaking. David made a lot of embarrassing noises in the time between having Cook's fingers inside of him, and having Cook inside of him. There was some whining and, like, pleading? And he was braced on his forearms and he just felt so wide open and completely fragile, and he couldn't help it. He felt, well, empty. And he just wanted Cook to fill him up, as much as the thought made him blush.
By the time Cook did press into him, David though the world was going to explode. His fingers were gripping the sheets tight, and his face was pressed against one of the pillows. He was saying something, something like "Oh, gosh, Cook, please, oh," and Cook was saying "Shit, oh my god, don't - don't move," in this really shaky voice and David felt something swell in his chest, something surprisingly sweet and warm.
The feeling only doubled when Cook's chest pressed against his back, and Cook was completely inside of him, and there was, it was amazing, and Cook's mouth, right next to his ear, saying things.
"You're so, oh fuck, I've never - you're the only one," and David had no idea what that meant but it made him want to cry. "You're the only one, Archie," Cook repeated into his hair, and hitched his hips up in a way that made David sob out loud, squeezing his eyes tight and pushing back against the other man.
Every stroke made David wilder and wilder, until he was sure he wasn't even speaking English anymore, just begging in some guttural voice.
"Cook, gosh, please just - touch me, please, please, touch me!"
Cook wrapped an arm around him, and his hand found David's erection, and he stroked him hard and quick and in time with Cook's thrusts, which was just, David was sure he was screaming, mewling, and he heard "Fuck, fuck, fuck," in his ear and thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
He curled up on Cook's chest, after, holding onto the man's hand and pressing his lips against the knuckles. Cook brushed back his hair gently and lay there, letting David hang on to him.
"I leave in two days," David whispered.
"I know," Cook said, softly.
"I'm probably never going to see you again."
"I know."
David rolled off of Cook, turned his face to the pillows, and cried.
He got home before his family did, which was kind of a miracle. But he could barely manage the effort to be grateful for that, so drained from the night as he was. It wasn't - he didn't regret anything, not even getting run off with, not even falling for Cook, a little bit. Because it had been, all of it, the best time he'd ever had.
Cook had walked him all the way to the door, one hand on his elbow as if to steady him, and David had been grateful for the support. They hadn't said anything at first, Cook just wrapped him up in a hug and held him close for a long while.
"We'll still talk," Cook had said, his voice rumbling against David. "We can call each other, exchange emails."
"Yeah," David mumbled, then pulled back and said, "Kiss me?"
Cook kissed him. This time it was harder to watch him walk away. David forced himself to walk into the hotel room, and close the door. Two days, and he'd leave Tulsa, Oklahoma in the rearview mirror. And he'd never see David Cook again.