D. Archuleta/D. Cook, five times the world stops spinning for them
(AI7) DAVID ARCHULETA/DAVID COOK
Rating: PG13
Pairing: David Archuleta/David Cook
Fandom: American Idol (real person slash)
Warnings: slash, real person slash
Disclaimer: I do not own these people because they own themselves. I want an Archie of my own, though. Badly.
Word Count: 5,733
A/N: Here it is, my labor of love! Hopefully, you will enjoy this one. This was written for cookleta_xmas . Thank you all very much for the wonderful response to this ♥
By: writingpickle
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five times the world stops spinning for them (and one time it starts again)
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1. here we are
There’s a similar thrill whenever David takes to the track field or opens his mouth to sing. Blood rushes hotly through his veins, his heart begins to beat so fast and he feels euphoric, so high that it’s like flying. The world becomes a blur; nothing but background color and sound, and only this thing, his feet pounding on solid ground or his throat working as he belts out glorious music, exists for him.
David gets into position, waiting for Michael to give him the signal. He takes even breaths, tenses his limbs. He lets the sound of the afternoon (students hurrying home, cheerleaders practicing their routines, the far off noises of the football players grunting on the field) roll over him and focuses instead on Michael, who’s holding the stopwatch in one hand while the other pulls the trigger on the gun, and then David is off.
The wind seems to whip against David as he runs, legs eating up distance. He is living motion, graceful and fast and he feels so alive.
He’s nearing the finish line; there’s sweat beading on his forehead and gliding down the sides of his face. There it is, his heart pounding as hard as his feet, muscles working overtime that he knows they are going to burn deliciously after. It’s like, if he starts singing now it would still feel the same, just as overpowering, and knows that if he sings, he’ll have this urge to run, to move because it is freedom.
He sees Michael’s silhouette against the afternoon light. David doesn’t feel the coolness of the weather when he’s building up so much heat; his breathing is rhythmic, if faster than normal, and he licks his dry lips.
It happens so fast that David is more surprised than anyone when, all of a sudden, his foot sort of takes a wrong step and he’s pitching forward, arms wind-milling in panic. He puts his arms up to his face right before he hits the ground, scraping the skin on his elbows and hands as his entire system is jarred by the impact.
David rolls on his back, breathing hard, and after a few seconds he sits up, wincing when his ribs ache. His eyes snap to his foot and he wriggles it experimentally. It doesn’t hurt as much as he expects and hopefully, it’s not broken. Oh my gosh, David really hopes it’s not broken.
There’s a commotion behind him as the rest of the team runs in his direction and David carefully stands up, putting more of his weight on his uninjured foot.
“You shouldn’t be standing right now,” someone says behind him and David is so startled, gosh, that he can’t help but spin around and lose his balance because hello, he’s practically leaning on one foot. He’s caught firmly in strong arms and David looks up, face burning in embarrassment, at a gaze that’s both amused and concerned. “See, that is what’s going to happen if you do.”
David tries to pull away but a painful twinge goes through his left foot and okay, wow, he’ll just have to stay in this guy’s hold then.
“You startled me,” David says, not accusingly at all. Well, maybe a little.
“Sorry,” the guy’s tone is insincere but his grin is nice enough, and David relaxes a little.
Finally, Michael and Jason arrive, with Coach Seacrest, and they crowd around David.
“Fuck, D, are you all right?” Michael demands, placing a hand on David’s shoulder, who smiles reassuringly at him and nods. Michael grins a little and his gaze drifts to the tall guy whose right arm is securely around David’s waist. “You’re…David Cook, right, from my Spanish class?”
The other boy nods and David makes a surprised sound. “Oh, wait; you’re that David who Michael says butchers the language?”
Michael cracks up and Jason shakes his head.
David Cook looks indignant. “I do not! Have you ever heard Johns speak it? He’s atrocious.”
“Big word,” Coach Seacrest mutters sarcastically before he clears his throat and steps forward. “All right, let’s get serious now. David, is your ankle broken?”
“Um, I don’t think so?”
“Never mind, let’s pretend it is so we can all heave a big sigh of relief when it isn’t,” Seacrest prattles on before pinning the boy with a glare. “You go to the clinic and have that checked. Michael, take David and report to me whatever the doctor says.”
David is grateful for that because it’s uncomfortable to have a complete stranger hold him even if um, well, never mind, and he draws back only for the arm to tighten around his waist. Cook is grinning down at him with a mischievous expression and before anyone can say anything, he sweeps David off his feet and holds him bridal style, oh my heck. David squeaks, he actually does, and holds on to Cook’s shoulders when the world around him seems to spin at the sudden movement.
“Oh my gosh, what are you doing?” David demands hotly, eyebrows furrowing.
“There’s no need, I’ll bring him,” Cook tells the coach with a confident nod, and he begins to walk away.
David looks over Cook’s shoulder. “Michael, stop him. Please.”
Michael shrugs, looking way too amused at David’s expense. “Sorry, D, he’s already got you in his arms.”
2. if the fates allow
The snow falls earnestly on the other side of the window and David tugs on his gloves, jamming his head into the ski cap. He looks at himself in the mirror and then pulls off the cap, throwing it on the bed. His hair is messily sticking up all over the place and with a sigh, he removes his gloves with his teeth and drops them on the mattress, next to the cap. He smears his palms with a little gel and runs them through his hair, teasing it into something presentable. When he’s satisfied, he wipes his hands dry on a towel.
He puts his gloves back on. Davids slips his feet into his sneakers, relishing the fact that his sprained ankle has finally healed. He checks himself one more time, making sure his shirt isn’t bunched up under the black sweater. David examines his hair yet again.
David knows he’s being ridiculous. It’s just Cook, oh my gosh. It’s just the boy who makes him laugh more than anyone else, who’s so kind and amazing that David can’t believe they’ve only been friends for a few months, whose voice is low and gravelly that it makes every part of David shiver. And maybe David has finally accepted a few things about himself. Maybe he is, maybe he sort of likes the other boy and maybe Cook likes him too.
David’s gone on dates before and this, it’s just another date.
With Cook.
Who’s a boy.
Suddenly disheartened, David sits heavily on the bed and covers his face with his hands.
He’s so confused and, David admits to himself, scared. He’s not sure what he’s doing, why he even feels this way but it’s real, this is happening. He can’t stop it even if he tries and guilt rushes through him as he thinks of his family. They don’t know, they don’t even suspect anything, but it’s, David knows it’s complicated.
He remembers three years ago, when he nearly lost his voice when he’d started feeling, when he’d noticed certain things about himself that he knows are wrong. David worries his lower lip, thoughts racing between the past and present, when the knock on his door startles him.
It’s Jazzy and her message makes his heart flutter. “David, he’s here. The other David is here.”
“Yeah, um, I’ll be right out,” David calls and he stands up, slapping his cheeks a little. His reflection stares back at him, expression both anxious and eager.
He’s not so sure what’s going to happen but there’s no doubt that his family won’t approve. It’s going to be tough, it’s going to hurt, it’s going to devastate him but David, he’s, he can’t stop feeling this way.
Not for Cook, who beams widely when he sees David coming down the stairs.
3. hang a shining star
It’s almost Cook’s birthday and David has a couple of ideas about what to give the other boy as a gift. They’re not much, really, mostly revolving around homemade things that are incredibly sentimental but he knows Cook will appreciate them all the more. If there's one thing David knows for sure about Cook, it’s that the other boy is a hopeless romantic, which is funny coming from someone who wants to be a rockstar in the future.
But for now, David lets his mind rest as he inches closer to the other boy, seeking his warmth. They’re in Cook’s bedroom, watching one of those old war movies that David doesn’t care for but Cook absolutely loves. The house is quiet; it’s just the two of them. David had immediately squashed the tiny thread of nervousness at the idea of being alone with Cook because he doesn’t want anything ruining their time together. Besides, most of the time they’re always surrounded by friends and family. It’s nice to be by themselves for a change, especially ever since they’ve started secretly dating.
They’re lying on Cook’s bed on their stomachs, facing the TV, with their socked feet resting against the headboard and on top of each other. The blanket is pulled over both of them and David is half tucked underneath the other boy. He’s got to admit, um, it’s really cozy just being like this. He knows he’s got issues about personal space and everything, which Cook never respected at all, so it’s nice just to ignore that and enjoy the feel of Cook around him. Truthfully, he’s always felt safe when he’s with Cook.
It took a while before David got used to the idea of being gay and being gay for Cook and even if he’s not completely comfortable with it (yet, but um, he’s almost there and Cook makes it so easy), he’s actually never been happier.
Cook is watching attentively, one hand cupping the side of his face while the other is splayed on David’s hip. His thumb is rubbing soft circles over the fabric of David’s shirt, which mutes the touch. David’s arms are crossed under his chin, head tilted away so he can look at the other boy from under his lashes. Cook is way more interesting than any movie, anyway. The room is dark and the glow of the TV plays across Cook’s features, casting shadows on either side of his nose, under his bottom lip and eyes. His gaze lingers on Cook’s mouth, blushing when he thinks about it moving across his own, softly, like Cook does it. But it’s those times when Cook would suddenly grab him and kiss him hard, parting David’s lips to access his tongue (oh my gosh), that comes to the forefront of David’s mind.
His jeans feel uncomfortably tight and he’s mortified because oh heck, this is so inappropriate!
But this isn’t the first time, really, because he remembers all those other times when they would get carried away, hands under shirts which are half raised, jeans unbuttoned and little red marks all over David’s neck and dang it, thinking about it doesn’t help David’s state at all.
David wriggles a little, biting his lower lip, and Cook glances down at him. “Too much, babe?”
It takes a moment for David to realize that Cook is actually referring to the love scene that’s showing on the movie and oh, oh, um, David didn’t know that they were allowed to show those kind of scenes back then. The heat on his face intensifies when Cook playfully wags his eyebrows at him.
“Sort of gives you ideas, doesn’t it?” he asks, voice turning husky, and oh man, this is so not good.
But still, David can’t help the thrill that shoots through him, making him lick his lips. The movement causes Cook to lean closer, breath blowing against David’s slightly parted lips.
“Don’t tempt me, David,” Cook murmurs as his fingers slip underneath David’s shirt, guitar-roughened pads gliding on his skin, which makes him shiver. Cook’s eyes darken.
They shouldn’t, no, really, because they’re all alone and, and if they start, then they might not want to stop. It’s dangerous, David knows, and he thinks about his Church, all its views on homosexuality, on his kind, all of the warnings against situations just like this and David almost pulls back, ready to say something dumb to ruin the mood, but Cook’s fingernails drag against his side and up his lower back and David’s mind goes blank.
He leans into the kiss, opening his mouth under Cook’s, as the other boy gently pushes him on his back and traps David in the pillars of his arms. They kiss for a while, tongues slowly tangling in a way that makes David’s head spin, his pulse stutter and his jeans even tighter. He wraps his arms around Cook’s neck, arching boldly, and Cook moans against his lips, slipping his other hand under David’s shirt. His fingers flutter on David’s skin, touches that tickle and sear.
Everything else falls away (the movie, the silence of the rest of the house, the guilty thoughts) as David’s breath hitches, caught off guard by the craving in Cook’s eyes and the answering tug he feels low in his belly. The other boy nibbles on David’s lips, like it’s candy, or, or gummi bears or something, and David sighs, swipes his tongue across Cook’s teeth, and mewls when fingers pluck at his nipples. They’re both panting, thudding heart to thudding heart, and Cook buries his face into the curve of David’s neck, using his free hand to pull the collar of David’s shirt away to reveal smooth skin and he bites it, oh my gosh.
Cook undoes the buttons of David’s shirt, parting it away with his mouth as it moves down the center of his torso. He looks up somewhere around David’s belly button. “Are you sure?”
David meets his gaze and he bites his bruised lip. His hands tremble as he reaches for Cook’s face. “Yes, yes, I am.”
A heartbeat passes before Cook finally moves and he’s pulling away and David sort of hates himself when he feels relieved.
Because he’s not sure, okay, he’s so conflicted (it’s not about Cook, never about Cook) and he doesn’t know what to think, who to believe, what to do and dang it, why the heck is he crying? It’s like something in him breaks (and heals a little) when Cook reaches up and pulls him on his lap, wraps him so tightly in his hug. He feels a kiss pressed against his temple, a soft, “It’s going to be all right, baby, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re fine, we’re good.”
They are, but at the same time, they aren’t.
4. from now on
David’s birthday falls on a Saturday and suddenly, every relative he has is crammed into his modest house. Or at least, that’s what it feels like, when David has to endure about a hundred calls of ‘happy birthday’ and ‘you’re growing up so fast’ and ‘awwwwwwww.’ David is fine with all that, really, but it’s the cheek-pinching he minds. It’s like, um, it’s starting to hurt now and hey, David is seventeen, and he’s not actually growing old backwards or something. Still, David’s glad everyone (in the world) can make it and he receives their words graciously, thanking each one with a sincerity that starts another round of cheek abuse.
So it’s a relief when his friends start arriving, though he panics a little when Michael bursts in with his usual loud exuberance, demanding, “Where is D’s abuelita?”
After he diffuses that situation by telling him that she and her husband couldn’t make the trip, his friends blend along with his family so well that the beaming smile never leaves David’s face (though, um, honestly? It would be kind of hilarious if Michael does meet his abuelita because she’s still such a firecracker, she’ll probably have his best friend running away).
But actually, under all that happiness, there’s an anxiety knotting itself in David’s stomach, getting bigger and bigger with each call of the doorbell. Christmas day is still so fresh in his mind (it was just three days ago, duh) and naturally, the joy of it carries over to his birthday as it always does year after year but today, it’s, David can’t say it was a perfect holiday.
He can count on both hands why, but mostly it’s because of the quiver in his chest whenever he thinks of Cook; that uncertain, uncomfortable tremor born from the fact that they’re hiding when, oh my gosh, when nobody should be ashamed of loving someone like Cook, or being loved by him, least of all David.
So David resolved that on his birthday, he’s going to tell his parents that he’s gay, but more importantly he’s found that person who makes him the happiest he’s ever been and who’s going to try and outdo every other day.
Yes, just like that.
Still, David hadn’t expected so many of his relatives to come and it rattles him, stretches his nerves until Cook finally, finally, arrives with a huge grin and an even bigger present. As the other boy steps inside, David takes a deep breath and hugs him, holding on for just a second too long and he can feel Cook’s surprise in the way Cook nearly kisses him, both of them jerking back at the last moment.
David pulls away, meeting his boyfriend’s intent gaze. “Thank you for coming,” he says softly.
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Cook tells him and the sincerity in his words strengthen David’s resolve because yes, not for anything.
They drop off Cook’s gift on the table (“Oh my gosh, this is so big, Cook, you didn’t have to get me anything but thank you”) and after the obligatory run in with his parents, both of them head out to the backyard where the party has spilled out. Their friends are by the porch, talking and laughing, surrounded by David’s little cousins running around.
David is buried under another round of gushing and he laughs as Brooke and Kristy pet his head, pinch his cheeks, while Michael and Jason whisper really, um, inappropriate suggestions into his ear that has him blushing. Cook hears them and can’t help but add his own ideas and this time, David gasps, “Oh my gosh, Cook, stop it,” while giving the other boy a push and everybody laughs, knowing all too well that Cook means every single word.
The party lasts until the afternoon and when they’ve sung happy birthday, the birthday candle is blown out, the cake is eaten, all of David’s aunts are dying for him to sing something and soon everyone is ushering him back into the house, deaf to all his protests as Michael forces him down in front of the piano. The living room is crowded but the noise dies down when David gives in and places his hands on the glossy keys, spine melting into a natural position. It’s, it’s really unnerving to have everyone focus on him and he coughs, hoping to hide his nervousness. It’s just his family and friends, the people most important to him, and he doesn’t want to disappoint them. He inwardly recoils at that thought, heart beating furiously, and his fingers curl in distress.
People are firing song titles faster than he can catch up but he’s not, oh gosh, he can’t hear anything because all of his earlier fears are coming back. How can he tell his parents, how can he tell them that he’s, that he and Cook are, what if they will hate him, what if, what if, what if?
“Hey, you okay?” a soft voice murmurs and David nearly sags against Cook in relief when the other boy sits next to him, away from everyone else’s view. He’s ridiculously grateful when Michael steps in front of the piano, drawing everyone’s attention to him as he tries to coordinate everyone’s song suggestions (oh heck, he loves his best friend more than ever).
“I wanted…” David swallows, licking his lips when he sees his dad watching them. He can feel Cook’s fingers brushing lightly against his side, the boldest touch he can dare give, and David lets out a breath. “I want to tell them,” he finally admits in an undertone. “After.”
David stares down at the white and black keys and he can feel Cook’s gaze burning the side of his face. Then, Cook reaches up and gives his shoulder a squeeze. “All right,” he whispers into his ear as he stands up and this time, David’s breath hitches when he hears the warmth in the other boy’s tone. “I love you.”
David closes his eyes to keep from crying as he struggles to keep his emotions in check and when he opens them, he knows what he will sing.
“Angels!”
“No, One Love!”
“I’m Yours!”
“Love Song!”
“Can we stick to one song, please?” Michael asks, sounding a little exasperated. “David is so going to change his mind we if don’t make up ours.”
“No, I’ll,” David starts before he has to talk louder, because some of his aunts totally don’t like the tone of Michael’s words. “I want to sing something that, um, I just recently wrote. It’s not, I don’t think it’s anything special but I want to share it with all of you.”
Jazzy and Amber, with their younger cousins in tow, squat on the floor by the piano and David smiles down at them. Then David flexes his fingers and runs them over the keys in a quick warm up, before settling down to start the opening chords of the song. The house is silent now and David takes a deep breath, bringing the lyrics to the front of his mind.
I've been alone so many nights now,
And I've been waitin' for the stars to fall
I keep holdin' out for what I don't know
To be with you, just to be with you
(David is laughing so hard he nearly falls off his chair because what? Pirate jokes are so not funny and oh my gosh, Cook’s face, hahahaha. David is sure he’s going to break a rib when all of a sudden, Cook grasps his face, leans closer and says, “Will you go out with me?” When he doesn’t follow that with a grin, or a punch line, David stops laughing with an “Oh”)
So here I am staring at the moon tonight
Wondering how you look in this light
Maybe you're somewhere thinkin' about me too
To be with you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
(The first time Cook holds his hand, it’s when they’re crossing the street and David is about to tell him that um, yeah, he’s old enough not to need someone’s help walking across the road when Cook’s fingers slip between the gaps of his, thumb tracing against David’s palm. The night breeze is cool and David shivers, shuffling closer to Cook, their hands dangling between them)
And I can't imagine two worlds spinnin' apart
Come together eventually
And when we finally meet, I'll know it's right.
I'll be at the end of my restless road.
But this journey, it was worth the fight.
To be with you, just to be...
(“I’m going to kiss you now,” Cook says to him in a smiling tone and that gets David to shut up)
And when you're standin' here in front of me,
That's when I know that God does exist.
“Cause He has answered every single prayer,” David sings in a voice that nearly shakes, “to be with you, just to be with you…”
His voice fades softly as his fingers play the last chords of the song. David pulls his hands away and rests them on his lap. The silence is deafening and he doesn’t dare look at anyone, not even Cook or his parents or his friends.
Then the stillness shatters as an explosion rocks the air and no, wait, that’s not a bomb, it’s everyone cheering for him and he can’t even keep up with the people coming to him and saying the nicest things and oh my gosh, he’s blushing so much that it scorches his cheeks. He stutters out his thanks, laughing self-consciously at the praises they heap on his head.
“D, that was fucking brilliant,” Michael says out loud and envelops him in a hug before Kristy pushes him away so she can have her fill. “David, I love that song!”
Brooke wraps her arms around Kristy and David, squealing, while Jason manages to find an opening under their limbs to poke David’s side.
“Oh gosh, that wasn’t, um, thanks you guys,” David mutters sheepishly as he pulls away. His eyes are torn between seeking out Cook or his parents. He finds them talking in a corner, faces serious, and the glow of his performance disappears. Cook catches his gaze, says something to his dad, and then walks towards him. David can’t hear anything from the rush of blood in his ears and Cook gives him the biggest hug yet when he reaches David’s side.
The rest of the night is a blur after that as people start to leave, hugging David and his sisters and brother, thanking Jeff and Lupe, until soon it’s just a handful of them, some of Lupe’s sisters staying until the New Year. Cook stays behind and David is chewing earnestly on his lower lip, thinking of his friends’ knowing looks as he saw them off moments ago.
They start to clean up, David protesting when Cook helps, and is silenced by a look. Jazzy and Amber are chatting loudly as they help Claudia and Daniel who are collecting all the paper plates, his remaining aunts doing the same with the cups.
It’s then that Jeff comes over.
“David, your mother and I would like to see both of you in the kitchen,” is all he says before he leaves.
David can’t find his voice because this is it, he’s going to tell them, they’re going to know, but before David can freak out, Cook takes his hand in a firm grip. “I’m with you,” Cook promises with a reassuring smile. “Whatever happens, David, I’m here.”
It’s Cook who tells the others that they’ll be right back, David too caught up in the fear tightening his throat to say anything, and Cook doesn’t release his hand as they stop outside the kitchen door.
“Ready?”
“No,” David confesses, licking his lips. “But we’re, we have to do this. I don’t want to keep on lying to them, or to you.”
Cook squeezes his hand and there’s so much pride in his voice that it hurts David. “Let’s go, then.”
David pushes open the door and sends a quick, desperate prayer in his head as his heart sinks when he sees his dad’s unforgiving face, his mom’s tearful eyes.
-
Beth hides her surprise when her son comes home with an arm wrapped protectively around David, whose eyes are red and sore.
“Mom, is it all right if David stays with us for a while?” Cook asks in a rough voice, his own eyes swollen. “His family…they…”
She doesn’t let him finish because she sees the way David flinches, his broken heart lying in pieces in his gaze. “Of course it is. David, you can stay in Adam’s room. Come on you two, you both look like you could do with some hot chocolate.”
5. let your heart be light
David can’t sleep.
Every time he closes his eyes, images of his family’s faces haunt him. He can hear his dad’s angry, disappointed words. He can’t block the sight of his mom’s tears or the confused expression on his siblings’ when he’d left with Cook, who had been holding the duffel back stuffed hastily with David’s clothes. It lies on the floor of Adam’s room, unopened, and David stares at the ceiling blankly.
David had done it, he’d come out to his parents and everything he’d thought, he’d expected, he’d been terrified of is happening. They kicked him out and his heart constricts in pain, in disbelief, because he’s still their son no matter what.
“Get out,” Jeff bit out in a sharp tone. “I don’t know who you are anymore, David.”
“I’m still, I’m still me,” David cried. “This is me, dad.”
But Jeff wasn’t listening anymore. “Leave.”
His mom said nothing.
Tears prick David’s eyes and he furiously swipes at them. He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He doesn’t want to hear their words anymore. He wants to stop hurting.
Without thinking about it, David gets off the bed and out of Adam’s room, tiptoeing to the door at the very end of the hallway. He doesn’t hesitate as he turns the knob and slips inside (that’s how much he needs this) but when he’s standing at the foot of Cook’s bed, he stops.
Cook is awake and he sits up, opening his arms wide. “Come here, baby.”
David all but leaps into his embrace and buries his face against Cook’s (bare) chest. He sniffles but keeps the tears in check. Cook’s hand runs through his hair soothingly, pressing kisses on top of his head.
“Can I sleep here?” David asks softly, in a tone so small and vulnerable that the arms around him tighten.
David can feel Cook’s chin grazing his head. “Yeah.”
They stay like that for a long time until the glowing numbers on the clock shift and it’s the next day.
David is calmed by the sound of Cook’s heartbeat under his ear and then he blinks and pulls away. Even in the dim moonlight filtering through the window, David can make out the tattoo on the other boy’s (still bare) chest. He traces a fingernail on the bleeding heart inked on the pale skin.
“This is new,” David observes and lifts his eyes to the other boy’s face.
He crooks a smile at David. “Yeah, I got it done the day after my birthday. It’s for you.”
David blinks. “What?”
A large hand grasps David’s chin and tilts it upwards. “I had it done for you, David. I know it’s stupid because what if we don’t work, then I’ll have you forever over my heart.” Cook shakes his head, grinning a little foolishly. “That’s what Neal said, anyway, and I just took the cursing out. Do you know what I told him?”
A fresh wave of tears blurs David’s vision and this time, his heart hurts in a good way. “No, I don’t. What, um, what did you say to him?”
Cook lowers his head so their lips are nearly touching. “I told him that it doesn’t matter because even if we don’t work out, I’ll still want you over and inside my heart forever.”
“Oh,” David says eloquently and a tear spills down one cheek. “I love you,” he says next, in a tone full of wonderment. “Oh my gosh, I love you so much.”
There are no words to express just how much, really, and David closes those last few inches and fits his mouth perfectly against Cook’s.
The truth is, he’s still broken and his family doesn’t want him anymore. David doesn’t know what he’ll do, where he’ll go, what will become of him but it’s just, with Cook kissing him like this, with Cook just here with him, David can’t bring himself to regret telling his parents. He just can’t and maybe he’s even all right with it, a little.
His heart can’t soar as Cook pulls him down on the bed with him but it’s still, they’re free.
6. we all will be together
David, come home.
-
There is a heaviness hanging on the house that makes David hesitate, standing just outside the front door. His breath mists over him and the snow is unplowed on the driveway. The neighborhood is quiet, still sleeping from last night’s celebration of a brand new year, still dreaming about fresh hopes and kisses as the sky had lit up with fireworks.
Cook stands slightly behind him, the solid warmth of him a pillar to David’s emotions.
He rings the doorbell and it doesn’t even take a second before the door opens and it’s his mom, her face worn and sad.
“David,” she breathes out and David shivers at the tenderness in her tone. Her gaze moves to Cook and, and they don’t harden. “David,” she says again and her lips even curve in the tiniest of smiles. Lupe opens the door wider. “Come inside, you two. We have so many things to talk about.”
David swallows and takes a step forward, hesitates, before he hugs his mom so tightly. He can’t stop the whimper when she hugs him back without reserve.
After a long time, they separate and Lupe’s eyes are misty. “We missed you, hijo. All of us.”
“Me, me too.” David bites his lip so hard it almost bleeds because oh my gosh, he’s so, please, please, please, God.
“We’re all in the living room,” Lupe tells them as she steps back.
David nods and reaches down to intertwine his hand with Cook’s, determination settling in the curve of his jaw as he lifts it a little because he might be coming home, he wants to come home, but Cook should be there with him, too.
Lupe stares at their joined hands for a moment before meeting David’s gaze, her own still soft, resigned. “All right, then.”
She disappears into the house, leaving the door wide open.
Cook leans down and kisses the frozen shell of David’s ear. “I love you.”
David slumps against him for a second, taking a deep breath. “Me too,” he sighs and it’s always been easy to say the words. “Let’s go.”
They go through the door and it closes decisively behind them. Outside, the weather is bitter. The sky is still overcast, promising another snowy day, but at the same time, promising that the sun is going to come out soon.
-
the end
Rating: PG13
Pairing: David Archuleta/David Cook
Fandom: American Idol (real person slash)
Warnings: slash, real person slash
Disclaimer: I do not own these people because they own themselves. I want an Archie of my own, though. Badly.
Word Count: 5,733
A/N: Here it is, my labor of love! Hopefully, you will enjoy this one. This was written for cookleta_xmas . Thank you all very much for the wonderful response to this ♥
By: writingpickle
-
five times the world stops spinning for them (and one time it starts again)
-
1. here we are
There’s a similar thrill whenever David takes to the track field or opens his mouth to sing. Blood rushes hotly through his veins, his heart begins to beat so fast and he feels euphoric, so high that it’s like flying. The world becomes a blur; nothing but background color and sound, and only this thing, his feet pounding on solid ground or his throat working as he belts out glorious music, exists for him.
David gets into position, waiting for Michael to give him the signal. He takes even breaths, tenses his limbs. He lets the sound of the afternoon (students hurrying home, cheerleaders practicing their routines, the far off noises of the football players grunting on the field) roll over him and focuses instead on Michael, who’s holding the stopwatch in one hand while the other pulls the trigger on the gun, and then David is off.
The wind seems to whip against David as he runs, legs eating up distance. He is living motion, graceful and fast and he feels so alive.
He’s nearing the finish line; there’s sweat beading on his forehead and gliding down the sides of his face. There it is, his heart pounding as hard as his feet, muscles working overtime that he knows they are going to burn deliciously after. It’s like, if he starts singing now it would still feel the same, just as overpowering, and knows that if he sings, he’ll have this urge to run, to move because it is freedom.
He sees Michael’s silhouette against the afternoon light. David doesn’t feel the coolness of the weather when he’s building up so much heat; his breathing is rhythmic, if faster than normal, and he licks his dry lips.
It happens so fast that David is more surprised than anyone when, all of a sudden, his foot sort of takes a wrong step and he’s pitching forward, arms wind-milling in panic. He puts his arms up to his face right before he hits the ground, scraping the skin on his elbows and hands as his entire system is jarred by the impact.
David rolls on his back, breathing hard, and after a few seconds he sits up, wincing when his ribs ache. His eyes snap to his foot and he wriggles it experimentally. It doesn’t hurt as much as he expects and hopefully, it’s not broken. Oh my gosh, David really hopes it’s not broken.
There’s a commotion behind him as the rest of the team runs in his direction and David carefully stands up, putting more of his weight on his uninjured foot.
“You shouldn’t be standing right now,” someone says behind him and David is so startled, gosh, that he can’t help but spin around and lose his balance because hello, he’s practically leaning on one foot. He’s caught firmly in strong arms and David looks up, face burning in embarrassment, at a gaze that’s both amused and concerned. “See, that is what’s going to happen if you do.”
David tries to pull away but a painful twinge goes through his left foot and okay, wow, he’ll just have to stay in this guy’s hold then.
“You startled me,” David says, not accusingly at all. Well, maybe a little.
“Sorry,” the guy’s tone is insincere but his grin is nice enough, and David relaxes a little.
Finally, Michael and Jason arrive, with Coach Seacrest, and they crowd around David.
“Fuck, D, are you all right?” Michael demands, placing a hand on David’s shoulder, who smiles reassuringly at him and nods. Michael grins a little and his gaze drifts to the tall guy whose right arm is securely around David’s waist. “You’re…David Cook, right, from my Spanish class?”
The other boy nods and David makes a surprised sound. “Oh, wait; you’re that David who Michael says butchers the language?”
Michael cracks up and Jason shakes his head.
David Cook looks indignant. “I do not! Have you ever heard Johns speak it? He’s atrocious.”
“Big word,” Coach Seacrest mutters sarcastically before he clears his throat and steps forward. “All right, let’s get serious now. David, is your ankle broken?”
“Um, I don’t think so?”
“Never mind, let’s pretend it is so we can all heave a big sigh of relief when it isn’t,” Seacrest prattles on before pinning the boy with a glare. “You go to the clinic and have that checked. Michael, take David and report to me whatever the doctor says.”
David is grateful for that because it’s uncomfortable to have a complete stranger hold him even if um, well, never mind, and he draws back only for the arm to tighten around his waist. Cook is grinning down at him with a mischievous expression and before anyone can say anything, he sweeps David off his feet and holds him bridal style, oh my heck. David squeaks, he actually does, and holds on to Cook’s shoulders when the world around him seems to spin at the sudden movement.
“Oh my gosh, what are you doing?” David demands hotly, eyebrows furrowing.
“There’s no need, I’ll bring him,” Cook tells the coach with a confident nod, and he begins to walk away.
David looks over Cook’s shoulder. “Michael, stop him. Please.”
Michael shrugs, looking way too amused at David’s expense. “Sorry, D, he’s already got you in his arms.”
2. if the fates allow
The snow falls earnestly on the other side of the window and David tugs on his gloves, jamming his head into the ski cap. He looks at himself in the mirror and then pulls off the cap, throwing it on the bed. His hair is messily sticking up all over the place and with a sigh, he removes his gloves with his teeth and drops them on the mattress, next to the cap. He smears his palms with a little gel and runs them through his hair, teasing it into something presentable. When he’s satisfied, he wipes his hands dry on a towel.
He puts his gloves back on. Davids slips his feet into his sneakers, relishing the fact that his sprained ankle has finally healed. He checks himself one more time, making sure his shirt isn’t bunched up under the black sweater. David examines his hair yet again.
David knows he’s being ridiculous. It’s just Cook, oh my gosh. It’s just the boy who makes him laugh more than anyone else, who’s so kind and amazing that David can’t believe they’ve only been friends for a few months, whose voice is low and gravelly that it makes every part of David shiver. And maybe David has finally accepted a few things about himself. Maybe he is, maybe he sort of likes the other boy and maybe Cook likes him too.
David’s gone on dates before and this, it’s just another date.
With Cook.
Who’s a boy.
Suddenly disheartened, David sits heavily on the bed and covers his face with his hands.
He’s so confused and, David admits to himself, scared. He’s not sure what he’s doing, why he even feels this way but it’s real, this is happening. He can’t stop it even if he tries and guilt rushes through him as he thinks of his family. They don’t know, they don’t even suspect anything, but it’s, David knows it’s complicated.
He remembers three years ago, when he nearly lost his voice when he’d started feeling, when he’d noticed certain things about himself that he knows are wrong. David worries his lower lip, thoughts racing between the past and present, when the knock on his door startles him.
It’s Jazzy and her message makes his heart flutter. “David, he’s here. The other David is here.”
“Yeah, um, I’ll be right out,” David calls and he stands up, slapping his cheeks a little. His reflection stares back at him, expression both anxious and eager.
He’s not so sure what’s going to happen but there’s no doubt that his family won’t approve. It’s going to be tough, it’s going to hurt, it’s going to devastate him but David, he’s, he can’t stop feeling this way.
Not for Cook, who beams widely when he sees David coming down the stairs.
3. hang a shining star
It’s almost Cook’s birthday and David has a couple of ideas about what to give the other boy as a gift. They’re not much, really, mostly revolving around homemade things that are incredibly sentimental but he knows Cook will appreciate them all the more. If there's one thing David knows for sure about Cook, it’s that the other boy is a hopeless romantic, which is funny coming from someone who wants to be a rockstar in the future.
But for now, David lets his mind rest as he inches closer to the other boy, seeking his warmth. They’re in Cook’s bedroom, watching one of those old war movies that David doesn’t care for but Cook absolutely loves. The house is quiet; it’s just the two of them. David had immediately squashed the tiny thread of nervousness at the idea of being alone with Cook because he doesn’t want anything ruining their time together. Besides, most of the time they’re always surrounded by friends and family. It’s nice to be by themselves for a change, especially ever since they’ve started secretly dating.
They’re lying on Cook’s bed on their stomachs, facing the TV, with their socked feet resting against the headboard and on top of each other. The blanket is pulled over both of them and David is half tucked underneath the other boy. He’s got to admit, um, it’s really cozy just being like this. He knows he’s got issues about personal space and everything, which Cook never respected at all, so it’s nice just to ignore that and enjoy the feel of Cook around him. Truthfully, he’s always felt safe when he’s with Cook.
It took a while before David got used to the idea of being gay and being gay for Cook and even if he’s not completely comfortable with it (yet, but um, he’s almost there and Cook makes it so easy), he’s actually never been happier.
Cook is watching attentively, one hand cupping the side of his face while the other is splayed on David’s hip. His thumb is rubbing soft circles over the fabric of David’s shirt, which mutes the touch. David’s arms are crossed under his chin, head tilted away so he can look at the other boy from under his lashes. Cook is way more interesting than any movie, anyway. The room is dark and the glow of the TV plays across Cook’s features, casting shadows on either side of his nose, under his bottom lip and eyes. His gaze lingers on Cook’s mouth, blushing when he thinks about it moving across his own, softly, like Cook does it. But it’s those times when Cook would suddenly grab him and kiss him hard, parting David’s lips to access his tongue (oh my gosh), that comes to the forefront of David’s mind.
His jeans feel uncomfortably tight and he’s mortified because oh heck, this is so inappropriate!
But this isn’t the first time, really, because he remembers all those other times when they would get carried away, hands under shirts which are half raised, jeans unbuttoned and little red marks all over David’s neck and dang it, thinking about it doesn’t help David’s state at all.
David wriggles a little, biting his lower lip, and Cook glances down at him. “Too much, babe?”
It takes a moment for David to realize that Cook is actually referring to the love scene that’s showing on the movie and oh, oh, um, David didn’t know that they were allowed to show those kind of scenes back then. The heat on his face intensifies when Cook playfully wags his eyebrows at him.
“Sort of gives you ideas, doesn’t it?” he asks, voice turning husky, and oh man, this is so not good.
But still, David can’t help the thrill that shoots through him, making him lick his lips. The movement causes Cook to lean closer, breath blowing against David’s slightly parted lips.
“Don’t tempt me, David,” Cook murmurs as his fingers slip underneath David’s shirt, guitar-roughened pads gliding on his skin, which makes him shiver. Cook’s eyes darken.
They shouldn’t, no, really, because they’re all alone and, and if they start, then they might not want to stop. It’s dangerous, David knows, and he thinks about his Church, all its views on homosexuality, on his kind, all of the warnings against situations just like this and David almost pulls back, ready to say something dumb to ruin the mood, but Cook’s fingernails drag against his side and up his lower back and David’s mind goes blank.
He leans into the kiss, opening his mouth under Cook’s, as the other boy gently pushes him on his back and traps David in the pillars of his arms. They kiss for a while, tongues slowly tangling in a way that makes David’s head spin, his pulse stutter and his jeans even tighter. He wraps his arms around Cook’s neck, arching boldly, and Cook moans against his lips, slipping his other hand under David’s shirt. His fingers flutter on David’s skin, touches that tickle and sear.
Everything else falls away (the movie, the silence of the rest of the house, the guilty thoughts) as David’s breath hitches, caught off guard by the craving in Cook’s eyes and the answering tug he feels low in his belly. The other boy nibbles on David’s lips, like it’s candy, or, or gummi bears or something, and David sighs, swipes his tongue across Cook’s teeth, and mewls when fingers pluck at his nipples. They’re both panting, thudding heart to thudding heart, and Cook buries his face into the curve of David’s neck, using his free hand to pull the collar of David’s shirt away to reveal smooth skin and he bites it, oh my gosh.
Cook undoes the buttons of David’s shirt, parting it away with his mouth as it moves down the center of his torso. He looks up somewhere around David’s belly button. “Are you sure?”
David meets his gaze and he bites his bruised lip. His hands tremble as he reaches for Cook’s face. “Yes, yes, I am.”
A heartbeat passes before Cook finally moves and he’s pulling away and David sort of hates himself when he feels relieved.
Because he’s not sure, okay, he’s so conflicted (it’s not about Cook, never about Cook) and he doesn’t know what to think, who to believe, what to do and dang it, why the heck is he crying? It’s like something in him breaks (and heals a little) when Cook reaches up and pulls him on his lap, wraps him so tightly in his hug. He feels a kiss pressed against his temple, a soft, “It’s going to be all right, baby, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re fine, we’re good.”
They are, but at the same time, they aren’t.
4. from now on
David’s birthday falls on a Saturday and suddenly, every relative he has is crammed into his modest house. Or at least, that’s what it feels like, when David has to endure about a hundred calls of ‘happy birthday’ and ‘you’re growing up so fast’ and ‘awwwwwwww.’ David is fine with all that, really, but it’s the cheek-pinching he minds. It’s like, um, it’s starting to hurt now and hey, David is seventeen, and he’s not actually growing old backwards or something. Still, David’s glad everyone (in the world) can make it and he receives their words graciously, thanking each one with a sincerity that starts another round of cheek abuse.
So it’s a relief when his friends start arriving, though he panics a little when Michael bursts in with his usual loud exuberance, demanding, “Where is D’s abuelita?”
After he diffuses that situation by telling him that she and her husband couldn’t make the trip, his friends blend along with his family so well that the beaming smile never leaves David’s face (though, um, honestly? It would be kind of hilarious if Michael does meet his abuelita because she’s still such a firecracker, she’ll probably have his best friend running away).
But actually, under all that happiness, there’s an anxiety knotting itself in David’s stomach, getting bigger and bigger with each call of the doorbell. Christmas day is still so fresh in his mind (it was just three days ago, duh) and naturally, the joy of it carries over to his birthday as it always does year after year but today, it’s, David can’t say it was a perfect holiday.
He can count on both hands why, but mostly it’s because of the quiver in his chest whenever he thinks of Cook; that uncertain, uncomfortable tremor born from the fact that they’re hiding when, oh my gosh, when nobody should be ashamed of loving someone like Cook, or being loved by him, least of all David.
So David resolved that on his birthday, he’s going to tell his parents that he’s gay, but more importantly he’s found that person who makes him the happiest he’s ever been and who’s going to try and outdo every other day.
Yes, just like that.
Still, David hadn’t expected so many of his relatives to come and it rattles him, stretches his nerves until Cook finally, finally, arrives with a huge grin and an even bigger present. As the other boy steps inside, David takes a deep breath and hugs him, holding on for just a second too long and he can feel Cook’s surprise in the way Cook nearly kisses him, both of them jerking back at the last moment.
David pulls away, meeting his boyfriend’s intent gaze. “Thank you for coming,” he says softly.
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Cook tells him and the sincerity in his words strengthen David’s resolve because yes, not for anything.
They drop off Cook’s gift on the table (“Oh my gosh, this is so big, Cook, you didn’t have to get me anything but thank you”) and after the obligatory run in with his parents, both of them head out to the backyard where the party has spilled out. Their friends are by the porch, talking and laughing, surrounded by David’s little cousins running around.
David is buried under another round of gushing and he laughs as Brooke and Kristy pet his head, pinch his cheeks, while Michael and Jason whisper really, um, inappropriate suggestions into his ear that has him blushing. Cook hears them and can’t help but add his own ideas and this time, David gasps, “Oh my gosh, Cook, stop it,” while giving the other boy a push and everybody laughs, knowing all too well that Cook means every single word.
The party lasts until the afternoon and when they’ve sung happy birthday, the birthday candle is blown out, the cake is eaten, all of David’s aunts are dying for him to sing something and soon everyone is ushering him back into the house, deaf to all his protests as Michael forces him down in front of the piano. The living room is crowded but the noise dies down when David gives in and places his hands on the glossy keys, spine melting into a natural position. It’s, it’s really unnerving to have everyone focus on him and he coughs, hoping to hide his nervousness. It’s just his family and friends, the people most important to him, and he doesn’t want to disappoint them. He inwardly recoils at that thought, heart beating furiously, and his fingers curl in distress.
People are firing song titles faster than he can catch up but he’s not, oh gosh, he can’t hear anything because all of his earlier fears are coming back. How can he tell his parents, how can he tell them that he’s, that he and Cook are, what if they will hate him, what if, what if, what if?
“Hey, you okay?” a soft voice murmurs and David nearly sags against Cook in relief when the other boy sits next to him, away from everyone else’s view. He’s ridiculously grateful when Michael steps in front of the piano, drawing everyone’s attention to him as he tries to coordinate everyone’s song suggestions (oh heck, he loves his best friend more than ever).
“I wanted…” David swallows, licking his lips when he sees his dad watching them. He can feel Cook’s fingers brushing lightly against his side, the boldest touch he can dare give, and David lets out a breath. “I want to tell them,” he finally admits in an undertone. “After.”
David stares down at the white and black keys and he can feel Cook’s gaze burning the side of his face. Then, Cook reaches up and gives his shoulder a squeeze. “All right,” he whispers into his ear as he stands up and this time, David’s breath hitches when he hears the warmth in the other boy’s tone. “I love you.”
David closes his eyes to keep from crying as he struggles to keep his emotions in check and when he opens them, he knows what he will sing.
“Angels!”
“No, One Love!”
“I’m Yours!”
“Love Song!”
“Can we stick to one song, please?” Michael asks, sounding a little exasperated. “David is so going to change his mind we if don’t make up ours.”
“No, I’ll,” David starts before he has to talk louder, because some of his aunts totally don’t like the tone of Michael’s words. “I want to sing something that, um, I just recently wrote. It’s not, I don’t think it’s anything special but I want to share it with all of you.”
Jazzy and Amber, with their younger cousins in tow, squat on the floor by the piano and David smiles down at them. Then David flexes his fingers and runs them over the keys in a quick warm up, before settling down to start the opening chords of the song. The house is silent now and David takes a deep breath, bringing the lyrics to the front of his mind.
I've been alone so many nights now,
And I've been waitin' for the stars to fall
I keep holdin' out for what I don't know
To be with you, just to be with you
(David is laughing so hard he nearly falls off his chair because what? Pirate jokes are so not funny and oh my gosh, Cook’s face, hahahaha. David is sure he’s going to break a rib when all of a sudden, Cook grasps his face, leans closer and says, “Will you go out with me?” When he doesn’t follow that with a grin, or a punch line, David stops laughing with an “Oh”)
So here I am staring at the moon tonight
Wondering how you look in this light
Maybe you're somewhere thinkin' about me too
To be with you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
(The first time Cook holds his hand, it’s when they’re crossing the street and David is about to tell him that um, yeah, he’s old enough not to need someone’s help walking across the road when Cook’s fingers slip between the gaps of his, thumb tracing against David’s palm. The night breeze is cool and David shivers, shuffling closer to Cook, their hands dangling between them)
And I can't imagine two worlds spinnin' apart
Come together eventually
And when we finally meet, I'll know it's right.
I'll be at the end of my restless road.
But this journey, it was worth the fight.
To be with you, just to be...
(“I’m going to kiss you now,” Cook says to him in a smiling tone and that gets David to shut up)
And when you're standin' here in front of me,
That's when I know that God does exist.
“Cause He has answered every single prayer,” David sings in a voice that nearly shakes, “to be with you, just to be with you…”
His voice fades softly as his fingers play the last chords of the song. David pulls his hands away and rests them on his lap. The silence is deafening and he doesn’t dare look at anyone, not even Cook or his parents or his friends.
Then the stillness shatters as an explosion rocks the air and no, wait, that’s not a bomb, it’s everyone cheering for him and he can’t even keep up with the people coming to him and saying the nicest things and oh my gosh, he’s blushing so much that it scorches his cheeks. He stutters out his thanks, laughing self-consciously at the praises they heap on his head.
“D, that was fucking brilliant,” Michael says out loud and envelops him in a hug before Kristy pushes him away so she can have her fill. “David, I love that song!”
Brooke wraps her arms around Kristy and David, squealing, while Jason manages to find an opening under their limbs to poke David’s side.
“Oh gosh, that wasn’t, um, thanks you guys,” David mutters sheepishly as he pulls away. His eyes are torn between seeking out Cook or his parents. He finds them talking in a corner, faces serious, and the glow of his performance disappears. Cook catches his gaze, says something to his dad, and then walks towards him. David can’t hear anything from the rush of blood in his ears and Cook gives him the biggest hug yet when he reaches David’s side.
The rest of the night is a blur after that as people start to leave, hugging David and his sisters and brother, thanking Jeff and Lupe, until soon it’s just a handful of them, some of Lupe’s sisters staying until the New Year. Cook stays behind and David is chewing earnestly on his lower lip, thinking of his friends’ knowing looks as he saw them off moments ago.
They start to clean up, David protesting when Cook helps, and is silenced by a look. Jazzy and Amber are chatting loudly as they help Claudia and Daniel who are collecting all the paper plates, his remaining aunts doing the same with the cups.
It’s then that Jeff comes over.
“David, your mother and I would like to see both of you in the kitchen,” is all he says before he leaves.
David can’t find his voice because this is it, he’s going to tell them, they’re going to know, but before David can freak out, Cook takes his hand in a firm grip. “I’m with you,” Cook promises with a reassuring smile. “Whatever happens, David, I’m here.”
It’s Cook who tells the others that they’ll be right back, David too caught up in the fear tightening his throat to say anything, and Cook doesn’t release his hand as they stop outside the kitchen door.
“Ready?”
“No,” David confesses, licking his lips. “But we’re, we have to do this. I don’t want to keep on lying to them, or to you.”
Cook squeezes his hand and there’s so much pride in his voice that it hurts David. “Let’s go, then.”
David pushes open the door and sends a quick, desperate prayer in his head as his heart sinks when he sees his dad’s unforgiving face, his mom’s tearful eyes.
-
Beth hides her surprise when her son comes home with an arm wrapped protectively around David, whose eyes are red and sore.
“Mom, is it all right if David stays with us for a while?” Cook asks in a rough voice, his own eyes swollen. “His family…they…”
She doesn’t let him finish because she sees the way David flinches, his broken heart lying in pieces in his gaze. “Of course it is. David, you can stay in Adam’s room. Come on you two, you both look like you could do with some hot chocolate.”
5. let your heart be light
David can’t sleep.
Every time he closes his eyes, images of his family’s faces haunt him. He can hear his dad’s angry, disappointed words. He can’t block the sight of his mom’s tears or the confused expression on his siblings’ when he’d left with Cook, who had been holding the duffel back stuffed hastily with David’s clothes. It lies on the floor of Adam’s room, unopened, and David stares at the ceiling blankly.
David had done it, he’d come out to his parents and everything he’d thought, he’d expected, he’d been terrified of is happening. They kicked him out and his heart constricts in pain, in disbelief, because he’s still their son no matter what.
“Get out,” Jeff bit out in a sharp tone. “I don’t know who you are anymore, David.”
“I’m still, I’m still me,” David cried. “This is me, dad.”
But Jeff wasn’t listening anymore. “Leave.”
His mom said nothing.
Tears prick David’s eyes and he furiously swipes at them. He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He doesn’t want to hear their words anymore. He wants to stop hurting.
Without thinking about it, David gets off the bed and out of Adam’s room, tiptoeing to the door at the very end of the hallway. He doesn’t hesitate as he turns the knob and slips inside (that’s how much he needs this) but when he’s standing at the foot of Cook’s bed, he stops.
Cook is awake and he sits up, opening his arms wide. “Come here, baby.”
David all but leaps into his embrace and buries his face against Cook’s (bare) chest. He sniffles but keeps the tears in check. Cook’s hand runs through his hair soothingly, pressing kisses on top of his head.
“Can I sleep here?” David asks softly, in a tone so small and vulnerable that the arms around him tighten.
David can feel Cook’s chin grazing his head. “Yeah.”
They stay like that for a long time until the glowing numbers on the clock shift and it’s the next day.
David is calmed by the sound of Cook’s heartbeat under his ear and then he blinks and pulls away. Even in the dim moonlight filtering through the window, David can make out the tattoo on the other boy’s (still bare) chest. He traces a fingernail on the bleeding heart inked on the pale skin.
“This is new,” David observes and lifts his eyes to the other boy’s face.
He crooks a smile at David. “Yeah, I got it done the day after my birthday. It’s for you.”
David blinks. “What?”
A large hand grasps David’s chin and tilts it upwards. “I had it done for you, David. I know it’s stupid because what if we don’t work, then I’ll have you forever over my heart.” Cook shakes his head, grinning a little foolishly. “That’s what Neal said, anyway, and I just took the cursing out. Do you know what I told him?”
A fresh wave of tears blurs David’s vision and this time, his heart hurts in a good way. “No, I don’t. What, um, what did you say to him?”
Cook lowers his head so their lips are nearly touching. “I told him that it doesn’t matter because even if we don’t work out, I’ll still want you over and inside my heart forever.”
“Oh,” David says eloquently and a tear spills down one cheek. “I love you,” he says next, in a tone full of wonderment. “Oh my gosh, I love you so much.”
There are no words to express just how much, really, and David closes those last few inches and fits his mouth perfectly against Cook’s.
The truth is, he’s still broken and his family doesn’t want him anymore. David doesn’t know what he’ll do, where he’ll go, what will become of him but it’s just, with Cook kissing him like this, with Cook just here with him, David can’t bring himself to regret telling his parents. He just can’t and maybe he’s even all right with it, a little.
His heart can’t soar as Cook pulls him down on the bed with him but it’s still, they’re free.
6. we all will be together
David, come home.
-
There is a heaviness hanging on the house that makes David hesitate, standing just outside the front door. His breath mists over him and the snow is unplowed on the driveway. The neighborhood is quiet, still sleeping from last night’s celebration of a brand new year, still dreaming about fresh hopes and kisses as the sky had lit up with fireworks.
Cook stands slightly behind him, the solid warmth of him a pillar to David’s emotions.
He rings the doorbell and it doesn’t even take a second before the door opens and it’s his mom, her face worn and sad.
“David,” she breathes out and David shivers at the tenderness in her tone. Her gaze moves to Cook and, and they don’t harden. “David,” she says again and her lips even curve in the tiniest of smiles. Lupe opens the door wider. “Come inside, you two. We have so many things to talk about.”
David swallows and takes a step forward, hesitates, before he hugs his mom so tightly. He can’t stop the whimper when she hugs him back without reserve.
After a long time, they separate and Lupe’s eyes are misty. “We missed you, hijo. All of us.”
“Me, me too.” David bites his lip so hard it almost bleeds because oh my gosh, he’s so, please, please, please, God.
“We’re all in the living room,” Lupe tells them as she steps back.
David nods and reaches down to intertwine his hand with Cook’s, determination settling in the curve of his jaw as he lifts it a little because he might be coming home, he wants to come home, but Cook should be there with him, too.
Lupe stares at their joined hands for a moment before meeting David’s gaze, her own still soft, resigned. “All right, then.”
She disappears into the house, leaving the door wide open.
Cook leans down and kisses the frozen shell of David’s ear. “I love you.”
David slumps against him for a second, taking a deep breath. “Me too,” he sighs and it’s always been easy to say the words. “Let’s go.”
They go through the door and it closes decisively behind them. Outside, the weather is bitter. The sky is still overcast, promising another snowy day, but at the same time, promising that the sun is going to come out soon.
-
the end