Fic: Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice ; Cook/Archuleta, PG-13
Title: Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice
Pairing: David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: AI RPF
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 5302
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and I'm not making any profit out of this. If you have Googled your own name and reached this page, then I'm very very sorry about what I've done and I don't meant to be offensive or anything.
Summary: Powerpuff Girls AU, or, The one in which David, Jordin and Allison are teenage superheroes
David first meets Cook when a giant octopus crashes Cook’s concert and almost sweeps him off the stage with its abnormally large tentacles. David gets there just in time to swoop down and carry him to safety, away from the octopus’ gnashing teeth. The octopus’ antennae hone in on David’s flight path and its bat wings flap a little in an attempt to chase after them (and, wow, seriously, where did these mad scientists come up with their crazy ideas?) but Allison decks it with a powerful roundhouse kick, giving David time to deposit Cook safely on a nearby rooftop.
“Hey, thanks, man,” says Cook, a little breathlessly. He lets out a low whistle, wide eyes staring at the octopus. “That is insane.”
“It is,” David agrees, but he doesn’t really care about the octopus, not really, not when David Cook of all people is standing next to him on a rooftop. David Cook turns and shoots him a big grin, and his hair is tousled and shirt rumpled, and it is clearly, very clearly, a much more mesmerizing thing to stare at than a mutant octopus.
“I’m David,” David Cook says, extending a hand. David shakes it and thinks, duh, but out loud he says, “Hello, so am I” and then kind of wants to jump off the building, because, gosh, wasn’t that the lamest thing to say ever, and he’s totally just going to die now.
To his surprise, Cook lets out this loud laugh, bright and openly amused and real. His grip is strong, warm and rough and comforting, and for a second there David feels ashamed of his smooth palms that never get calluses because of his healing factor. Cook finally drops the handshake, but David’s palm continues to feel weird and tingly. He absently rubs it against his jeans.
“Of course I know who you are,” Cook says, a small grin still lighting up his face. “Who doesn’t know David Archuleta in this town? It’s a real honour to meet you.”
And all of a sudden, David realizes just how much he really, really loves crazy, monster seafood. He can’t stop the big smile from spilling out all over his face and the slight flush from creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks and ears, because David Cook thinks it’s an honour to meet him, and this day is just turning out to be the best ever.
“I watch you on MTV all the time,” David blurts out. “Um, I mean, yeah, you’re really amazing and I own all your records and everything.” David is pretty sure Cook can feel the heat radiating off his face by now.
“Aww, thanks,” says Cook, and it’s not patronising at all. He looks genuinely flattered. “I… watch you kick monster ass every night on the news?”
David beams. Yeah, seriously, best day ever, no doubt about it. And then Jordin has to ruin their moment by saying over their communication headsets, “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re flirting with David Cook and leaving Allison and me to clean up this mess.”
That’s when David realizes that the town square really is one huge mess. The stage that Cook had been performing on is now nothing more than a pile of smoking wood, and the ground is littered with rubble and debris from destroyed buildings in the vicinity. The huge screen that had once hung over the stage and towered over the town square has been broken and shattered, and is now tilted at a precarious angle. David can see Jordin ushering civilians away from the danger zone while Allison ties the octopus up in its own tentacles. The octopus makes a pathetic sound, antennae drooping, and David feels momentarily bad for it. He also feels really guilty for not helping out.
He waves a hand at the scene. “I, uh, I have to go.”
Cook nods. “Yeah, of course, man. Go do your thing.”
“It was nice meeting you,” David says.
“I’m giving you a lifetime supply of free tickets to any concert of mine, whenever you want,” Cook says, and then David’s taking off, flying towards the large screen and holding it steady while the last of the civilians take shelter.
“Jeez, quit smiling like that. It’s creepy,” Allison says as she helps him stabilize the screen. They float down to where Jordin is discussing the octopus situation with the authorities.
“Sorry,” David says. He doesn’t stop smiling. Allison rolls her eyes at him and ruffles his hair. David feels like pointing out that that’s totally unsuitable since he’s older than her, but he’s in such a good mood now, so, whatever.
Mayor Cowell looks visibly pissed off about the octopus destroying his city. He’s making scathing remarks about ‘bloody marine life dropping out of the sky’ and ‘incompetent imbeciles! Morons, all of you’ while his nice secretary, Miss Abdul, pats Jordin on the shoulder and says, “Don’t worry, dear, he doesn’t mean you”. David and Allison land on either side of her, and Allison makes faces at Mayor Cowell’s back when he turns to glare at the octopus.
The octopus makes this sad little sound, and David feels guilty that they’ve tangled up its tentacles. It wobbles a bit on the spot, unbalanced and immobile, its antennae bopping and swivelling meekly. One of its wings sticks out at an odd angle, like it’s broken, and David really can’t help himself when he says, “I want to take it home.”
There’s this odd silence when everyone turns to stare at him, and then suddenly everyone’s talking at once. Mayor Cowell’s saying, “Fine, I don’t care, just get it out of here” and Allison’s calling the Professor to see if they couldn’t keep it in their basement and Jordin’s being all voice-of-reason, sighing, “We can’t, y’all. It’s a monster octopus.”
David feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around, feels his breath catch in his throat when Cook’s lips curl up in a crooked grin.
“You’re really something else,” Cook observes, like he’s stating a fact. His hand hasn’t left David’s shoulder.
“Um, thanks?” David scrunches up his face. He isn't really sure whether it’s a compliment.
Cook’s grip momentarily tightens on his shoulder. “It’s a compliment, Archuleta,” he says, as if he’s read David’s mind. And then he says, “I have a pool.”
“Um,” says David again, because really, Cook is so dang random, “That’s nice?”
Cook lets go of his shoulder and wanders forward to inspect the octopus. “It’s not a very big pool, but I have a huge garden, so maybe we can expand it or something.”
David’s eyes widen. “Are you offering to adopt the octopus?” And, wow, just when he thought he couldn’t like Cook any more.
Cook shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind. You have to admit, having a giant octopus in your backyard would be pretty kickass.”
“It would,” David agrees, beaming. He was totally right about this being a great day-not just for himself, but also for the octopus, who’d now have a great home with the awesome David Cook, and wouldn’t have to be cooped up in a lab with whatever mad scientist had made him.
In the end, the octopus goes to a veterinary hospital for a while to patch up its wing, while Cook gets his pool ready. Cook, as David finds out, lives in this really big house, okay, mansion, at the top of this hill where all the celebrities live or whatever, and has a really big and sprawling backyard that stretches partway down the hill and could totally house an octopus.
Cook gets his pool completely re-done, making it bigger and deeper, and he invites David over twice a week to check up on the renovation works.
“I need your opinion on whether you think the octopus can fit in the pool,” says Cook.
David tilts his head and looks at the hole in the ground measuringly. “Yeah, I think it can.”
“Awesome,” says Cook, then, “Hey, you wanna play some video games?”
And that’s how it goes for the rest of the month-David goes over to check on the pool and ends up staying for dinner.
“Huh,” says Allison. “I didn’t know such tactics actually worked outside of movies.”
David frowns. “What tactics?” They’re leaning against the kitchen counter eating a tub of ice-cream after stopping a bunch of crooks from robbing a bank. Jordin giggles, and David suddenly feels totally left out of the loop.
Allison waves her dessert spoon vaguely in the air. “You know. He invites you over under the pretence of looking at his pool or whatever, when it’s really just an excuse to have you over at his place. I mean, c’mon, David, he doesn’t need you to inspect his octopus habitat so often, that’s so lame.”
David blushes, because she’s totally got it all wrong, no way would Cook do something like that, especially not for his company. David just accepts every time, because, well, it is a pretty good excuse for David. He likes being over at Cook’s place. Even if Cook hadn’t meant it as such, David will take whatever he can get. “He really needs the help,” David protests. “He’s never owned an octopus before.”
“Okay,” says Allison. She’s totally hiding her grin behind the tub of ice-cream, David can see her.
“When’s the pool gonna be done?” Jordin asks.
“In a few weeks or so, probably?” David says. And then it suddenly hits him. When the pool’s done, Cook won’t have any reason to invite him over any more. David frowns. He’d started off having this idol-crush-thing on Cook, but then Cook had turned out to be so genuinely awesome, and, well. It had maybe sort of turned into a for-real-crush-thing. And, oh, that was bad, bad, bad.
“What’s wrong?” Jordin asks, full of concern. Allison leans over the counter and pokes at the furrow between his eyebrows in an attempt to make him laugh.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” David says as cheerfully as he can manage, and then disappears upstairs into his room before they can sic the Professor on him. He flops down on his bed and tries to avoid looking at the poster of David Cook he has on his wall. He needs a plan. Well, okay, he doesn’t. He already knows what he needs to do, it’s just going to be totally horrible to do it.
“Urgh,” says David, and tries not to remember that one time Cook laughed at him for actually saying out stereotypical sounds or whatever he had called it. Okay, so. David was going to have to get over his crush. Before Cook stopped inviting him over and David accidentally made a bigger deal out of it than it really was. They’d only known each other for a few weeks, really, they weren’t even best friends or whatever.
And so the next time Cook invites David over (“Archie, come see if I can maybe feed this to my octopus”), David goes and inspects the food (“Um, Cook? Please don’t put goldfishes in the pool. That’s kind of, um. Ew”) and then, before Cook can even offer him a soda, he says, “I have to go. I’ve a meeting with the mayor.” Which is totally true, except that the meeting is six hours away and David could have done the conference call over his mobile.
“Okay,” says Cook, and David so does not feel a little twinge in his chest at the fact that Cook doesn’t even look sad that he has to leave.
Cook invites him over again the day after next (“What about piranhas? Give it a little competition, y’know?”) and David goes over just to veto the piranhas and then flies home under the excuse that he has loads of homework to do.
But then Cook calls him after dinner, and Cook’s never called him just to chat before, which kind of throws David off-guard, and before he knows it, they’ve been on the phone for two hours and a half, talking about everything and nothing. David reads Cook some of his homework questions over the phone, and talks about that one time they stopped a chemical spill, and Cook sings a couple of verses of songs he’s writing and talks about going on tour.
“Speaking of which,” says Cook. “I need to do some promotional thing in a few states, in lieu of my tour being cut short.”
“If you’re well enough to do ‘promotional things’, won’t your fans wonder why you’re not well enough to go back on tour?”
Cook snorts. “Apparently, I’m well enough to sign a few autographs and take a few pictures. I’m already milking my octopus attack trauma for all it’s worth, okay? This hiatus has been the best fucking thing.”
David laughs and sketches a graph on his answer sheet. He sort of wants to ask Cook why he’s bothering to spend his valuable hiatus time on the phone with David, but he supposes it’s because Cook has no one else to talk to about octopi.
“Listen, Archie,” says Cook. “I’m leaving tomorrow and won’t be back until next week.”
David feels his stomach flip over a bit at that, which is weird, because he’s not known Cook for a majority of his life. He can do without him for a week.
“Will you house-sit for me?” Cook asks. “I need someone to oversee the pool construction and stuff.”
No, thinks David. No, Cook, I will not, because we need to hang out less. But Cook wouldn’t really be there, would he? It wouldn’t be considered hanging out at all if Cook wasn’t there and David lurked around an empty house, watching a few construction guys lay tiles and cement, right? Besides, Cook was doing a good thing by adopting the octopus and David really wanted to help out.
“Sure,” says David. “I can do that.”
And so David goes over to Cook’s house the next day and tries to do his homework on the lawn by the poolside, but the construction is really noisy and dusty, and he can’t concentrate at all. With a sigh, David picks up his books and glances around for somewhere else he can do his homework and keep an eye on the pool at the same time. He wants to be able to save any construction guys he sees from accidents. That gigantic hole is just a danger trap waiting to happen.
David spots a balcony on the third floor that overlooks the pool, and floats up there to take a look. The balcony doors are unlocked, and when David slides them apart and pushes back the curtains, oh, he’s in Cook’s bedroom. He’s never been up there before, and it’s surprisingly neat and tidy. David sniffs the air, and okay, he shouldn’t have done that, because it smells distinctly like Cook, his cologne or fabric softener or something, and, well, it’s really nice.
There’s a guitar in one corner, with a small pile of papers next to it. The sheet on top has ‘David’ scrawled at the top, with lines of what look like lyrics written below them. David thinks it’s cute that Cook feels the need to sign off his lyrics at the top of the page like they did with homework at school, and he sits on the bed and starts to read them, recognizing some of them from the parts Cook had sung to him on the phone last night.
Before David knows it, he’s being jolted awake by his phone vibrating in his pocket and he groans, sitting up in the bed, oh my gosh, wait, Cook’s bed. David feels himself blushing and is immensely glad that no one is there to see.
“Where are you?” Jordin yells down the phone, and she’s totally not one to yell, so David feels his heart hammering at the urgency of the situation. “Get downtown, quick! Gokey’s escaped from prison again.”
David actually feels sick to his stomach at the thought of failing in his duties to protect his city. He’s let his little thing for Cook get too far and it’s totally messing him up now and so it’s got to stop. David decides that it’s completely pointless liking someone who’ll never like you back in the same way. He grew up with two girls, okay, he’s seen all the romance movies and read chick lit. Unrequited love seldom works out.
When they get home from locking up a bunch of criminals, David goes up to his room and takes the Cook poster down. He still wants to be friends with Cook, but he knows he needs to give himself some distance from the guy and get over his stupid feelings and then they can have a very nice and wholesome, platonic friendship.
For the next week, he gets either Allison or Jordin to hang out with him at Cook’s place, so he doesn’t let himself feel too much at home, although Allison tells him it’s already a lost cause, because he unthinkingly helps himself to all of Cook’s stuff and knows where all the cutlery goes and how to use all of Cook’s many high-tech remotes and everything. This is so not good.
Cook calls him a few times during the week, but David resolutely lets it go to voice mail. He then lets Jordin listen to Cook’s messages for him, you know, just to see if they’re important. For all David knew, Cook could be in serious need of help, and even David’s enhanced hearing didn’t extend two states away (although a small part of David kind of knew-hoped-that he’d totally be able to sense if Cook was in trouble, even if he was trapped twenty feet under an icy avalanche at the South Pole).
The construction guys tell David that the pool’s going to take a couple of weeks longer than expected due to some delays caused by a minor breakdown in their machinery, so David writes that all down in a neat note and leaves it next to the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. There, he’s done.
David flies home, pausing only to help an old lady across the road, and to give a little girl back her balloon, and oh, to help that nice Mr Jackson from across the street catch his runaway puppy. Then, David curls up in bed and stares at the wall and tries not to be too depressed.
Eventually, Cook calls him six times and David deletes six voice messages (Cook was back in town now, so David was pretty sure they weren’t emergency calls) before he turns off his phone. He tries to watch TV, but paparazzi shots of Cook at the airport are everywhere, and Cook’s videos are topping the charts on MTV, so David can’t even rely on mindless entertainment anymore. How was he supposed to get over Cook, when Cook was unknowingly all up in his face?
“Ack,” says David, making a face at the space on his wall where the poster used to hang. Getting over someone sucked.
This goes on for a few more days, with Cook calling and David not picking up, and segues into Cook sending multiple e-mails and David deleting them. Finally, they stop altogether, and David feels a little ache in his chest that this is it.
He’s glad every time the emergency hotline rings because it gives him something to do, though he immediately feels bad about it, because it probably means someone’s in trouble somewhere. David can’t quite concentrate on the job, though, and gets totally chewed out by Mayor Cowell for accidentally destroying a monument.
Professor Seacrest sighs and gives David a big hug and strokes his hair, which is really nice, but honestly doesn’t make David feel better about anything at all. Then the Professor piles the whole family into his bed and makes them all cuddle up together like they did when they were younger.
“David,” says the Professor. “Why are you doing this?”
David mumbles something under his breath, so Jordin says, “He thinks it’s messin’ with his super-heroing.”
“Well, it’s even worse now, isn’t it?” the Professor says.
“He thinks Cook doesn’t like him back,” Allison offers. “Which, dude,” she pokes David in the stomach, “Is so not true.”
“I, um, actually, I don’t think he even wants to be friends anymore,” David says morosely, burrowing further into the blankets.
“Then you have nothing to lose by just talking to Cook about it, right?” the Professor says, just as the emergency hotline goes off. There’s a mad scramble of limbs as three teenagers dive instinctively for the phone.
Apparently, there’s a fire in one of the apartment complexes on the edge of town, and the Mayor-or rather, Miss Abdul, probably-was worried that the fire truck wouldn’t be able to get there in time. As soon as Jordin hangs up the phone, the three of them are zooming out of the window and racing towards the burning building. David can smell it burning from miles away, can hear the terrified screams for help.
And then suddenly, out of nowhere, there’s a giant robot with a flamethrower in their path, and that’s so ridiculous that it’d be funny if Dr. DioGuardi hadn’t been sitting perched on top of the robot, making it scorch the nearby buildings. Now it was still stupid-looking, but also really dangerous.
“Oh, heck no,” mutters Jordin into their communications headsets. “Allison, you-”
But before she can finish giving the order, the robot directs its flames towards them and David has to tuck and roll in mid-air to dive out of the way. He sees Allison and Jordin trying to get in closer to the robot, but Dr. DioGuardi swings the flamethrower in a big arc and forces them all to scatter again to get out of the way.
“This is so annoying,” says David, and, gosh dang, it was because he really, really needed to get to those people in the burning buildings now but the robot kept cutting him off with its flames or long metallic limbs. Allison fires her heat vision at the robot, but it reflects off its metallic body.
“Aim for the Doctor, y’all!” says Jordin as she swoops down from above.
And then David hears it. He hears the creak of the wood and the sharp crack as it finally snaps. He hears the rumble of stone and cement and bricks as the apartment’s foundations finally give way and shouts and screams as the building starts to collapse in on itself. And then, in the midst of all that chaos--
“Oh my gosh,” breathes David, because he can smell him. He can smell Cook’s cologne and laundry detergent and a scent that is so distinctly Cook above all the smoke and ash, can hear Cook’s voice as he shouts, “Wait here”, he can--
David dives down low, smoothly evading the metallic arms and flying low and close enough to the robot that the flamethrower can’t reach him. He sails between the robot’s legs, comes up and around the robot and dashes towards the burning building just in time to see Cook appear in a third-storey window, with the apartment aflame behind him, clutching a tiny, quivering ball of fur.
“Cook!” shouts David, and Cook is coughing from the smoke and rubbing at his eyes, but he looks up at David, looks up at him and smiles --and then he jumps out of the window.
“Oh my gosh!” David’s heart leaps into his throat and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and, wow, all those clichés are so true, after all, but David doesn’t care, he needs to reach Cook, to catch him before he hits the ground. Three storeys is so short, and yet so deadly. Please, David thinks, and he swoops down and reaches out desperately, and grabs Cook around the waist, mere feet from the ground.
Cook’s laughter is breathless in his ear as David’s momentum carries them upwards in a complete arc, and his heartbeat is fast and hard against David’s chest, and he’s holding on to David tightly with one solid arm, the other still clutching the pet he had saved.
“I hate you,” David tells him, because, seriously, he’s laughing, and this is not funny at all.
Cook’s breath is warm against the side of David’s face and his lips brush the back of David’s neck when he leans his head against David’s. “Jesus,” says Cook, and then he wheezes out another breathless chuckle.
David would totally roll his eyes at him, but Cook can’t see it anyway, so David slows their flight instead and floats them safely down to a fire-free rooftop. They stumble a little as they land, adrenaline and height differences, and Cook doesn’t let David go. He keeps his one free arm wrapped tightly around David, and like, breathes into his hair or whatever he’s doing, so David clutches him tightly back and buries his face in Cook’s shoulder.
Finally, Cook steps back slightly, but slides his arm up and leaves it with his palm cupping the back of David’s neck.
“Hi,” he says, with that irritatingly charming half-smile of his. His thumb rubs small circles into David’s skin, and David totally does not shiver.
“Hi, um,” says David, and he must be coming down from his adrenaline high, because he suddenly feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him and he can’t quite breathe and his heart is still going at a bazillion miles a minute.
“Why have you been ignoring me?” Cook asks out of nowhere, and David says, “I have not”, before he blushes and, okay, yeah, he kind of has. Cook gives him this look, which is like a cross between disappointed and patient and I totally see through you, Archuleta, and David feels really guilty all of a sudden.
“I, um, you see,” says David. And then he scoops up the bunny nestled in the crook of Cook’s arm and makes a break for it.
He returns the bunny to its owner and watches Jordin hand Dr. DioGuardi over to the police while Allison kicks at random robot debris.
“You so owe us, man,” says Allison.
“Oh my God, talk to him already,” says Jordin, motioning towards Cook. David sighs, and yeah, he might as well get it over with.
When he flies back up, Cook is sitting on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling over the side of the building. Cook pats the ledge next to him and David sits down, leaving a gap between them. They’re silent for a while, watching firemen and police and medics doing their best down below, and David fidgets uncomfortably.
“Um,” David finally says, because he has to know. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
Cook shrugs. “I was taking a walk. And then everything went to hell.”
“I don’t know whether or not to be mad at you for rushing into a burning building to save a bunny,” David admits.
Cook raises an eyebrow. “Like you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing.”
“It’s totally different,” David argues, and he’s not pouting, so Cook had better stop smirking stupidly like that. “I can heal faster than you can.”
“You guys were taking too long,” says Cook. David feels a wave of guilt come over him. What kind of superheroes were they, who couldn’t stop a manic scientist in time to save a bunny from a burning apartment?
“Hey,” says Cook, slinging a gentle arm around David’s shoulders and tugging him closer. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
David shifts nearer to Cook despite himself. Cook is warm and comforting, and for all his superpowers, David feels wiped out and exhausted.
“I’m sorry, too,” David says. He stares down at his hands. Okay, here goes nothing. David had better enjoy the last few seconds of their friendship while it lasted. “Cook?”
“Yeah?” Cook’s arm tightens around his shoulders, and, gee, David really wishes he wouldn’t do that.
“Um. Um, I, uh, don’t freak out, okay, but I’ve been trying to avoid you, and wow, you’re really hard to avoid, but I was sort of doing okay until you were, like, on the TV and everywhere, and, um, I really want us to be friends, and you’re so great to hang out with, but I kind of have this, this reallystupidcrushonyou and I thought it’d be better if we had a little more distance in our relationship so I can get over you.” David takes a deep breath, and feels both better and worse at the same time that it’s all out there.
There’s a slight pause as Cook takes it in, and David totally can’t look him in the eye, so he stares at his sneakers and hopes that the expression on Cook’s face isn't too horrible. Cook lifts his arm from David’s shoulder and David kind of dies a little, inside.
“Dude,” says Cook, and really, what was that supposed to mean? “Okay, one, ‘distance in our relationship’? What the hell kind of crap shows have you been watching on TV, Archuleta?" He pauses and David doesn't know if he really expects an answer. "And, two, have you gotten over your crush on me yet?”
“Um.”
“Can I take that as a ‘no’?”
“Um, no, I mean, yes, I mean--”
“I’d really like to take that as a ‘no’.”
“…Okay?” David’s mind is all fuzzy and cotton-y and he really wants this day to just be over and Cook was so stupid and annoying and what did he mean by that? “Wait, what?”
David blinks up at Cook. Cook has this atrociously large grin on his face, and a voice that sounds suspiciously like Cook’s in David’s head says, shit-eating, and oh my gosh, Cook is such a bad influence.
“Hey Archie,” Cook says casually. “I totally have a crush on you, too.”
And David was totally wrong. This was the best day of his life, ever.
“I thought you only hung out with me because I was the only one you could talk to about octopi.”
“We haven’t been talking about, what, octopi? At all, Archie.”
“So I can still, um, hang out with you after your pool is done, right?” David totally needs to be sure about this.
Cook makes a strange snorting sound. “Hell yeah. Who else is gonna help me take care of our octopus?”
And David smiles and smiles, because Cook said our octopus, and his mind is still reeling from that when Cook leans in and kisses him.
David makes a startled little sound, and almost tips off the rooftop. Cook laughs against his lips, and pulls back a little to give David time to collect himself, before brushing a hand along David’s cheek and kissing him again. Cook’s lips are warm and soft and only a little dry, and he has a slight hint of stubble, which is really, um, wow.
“Would you like to come over and help pick a name for our octopus?” Cook asks.
“Yes,” David says. “I really would.”
“Awesome,” says Cook. “And would you like to come over tomorrow to listen to a song I wrote for you?”
“Sure,” says David, and thinks of the lyrics he found in Cook’s room. He’s so not telling Cook that he’s already read them.
Cook grins at him. “And I’d really like for you to come over the day after that to hang out and, you know, snuggle on the couch.”
Cook says snuggle and David hears make out, because Cook is so like that, but he beams at Cook anyway and says, “Duh.” Because he’d really like that, too.
Pairing: David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: AI RPF
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 5302
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and I'm not making any profit out of this. If you have Googled your own name and reached this page, then I'm very very sorry about what I've done and I don't meant to be offensive or anything.
Summary: Powerpuff Girls AU, or, The one in which David, Jordin and Allison are teenage superheroes
David first meets Cook when a giant octopus crashes Cook’s concert and almost sweeps him off the stage with its abnormally large tentacles. David gets there just in time to swoop down and carry him to safety, away from the octopus’ gnashing teeth. The octopus’ antennae hone in on David’s flight path and its bat wings flap a little in an attempt to chase after them (and, wow, seriously, where did these mad scientists come up with their crazy ideas?) but Allison decks it with a powerful roundhouse kick, giving David time to deposit Cook safely on a nearby rooftop.
“Hey, thanks, man,” says Cook, a little breathlessly. He lets out a low whistle, wide eyes staring at the octopus. “That is insane.”
“It is,” David agrees, but he doesn’t really care about the octopus, not really, not when David Cook of all people is standing next to him on a rooftop. David Cook turns and shoots him a big grin, and his hair is tousled and shirt rumpled, and it is clearly, very clearly, a much more mesmerizing thing to stare at than a mutant octopus.
“I’m David,” David Cook says, extending a hand. David shakes it and thinks, duh, but out loud he says, “Hello, so am I” and then kind of wants to jump off the building, because, gosh, wasn’t that the lamest thing to say ever, and he’s totally just going to die now.
To his surprise, Cook lets out this loud laugh, bright and openly amused and real. His grip is strong, warm and rough and comforting, and for a second there David feels ashamed of his smooth palms that never get calluses because of his healing factor. Cook finally drops the handshake, but David’s palm continues to feel weird and tingly. He absently rubs it against his jeans.
“Of course I know who you are,” Cook says, a small grin still lighting up his face. “Who doesn’t know David Archuleta in this town? It’s a real honour to meet you.”
And all of a sudden, David realizes just how much he really, really loves crazy, monster seafood. He can’t stop the big smile from spilling out all over his face and the slight flush from creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks and ears, because David Cook thinks it’s an honour to meet him, and this day is just turning out to be the best ever.
“I watch you on MTV all the time,” David blurts out. “Um, I mean, yeah, you’re really amazing and I own all your records and everything.” David is pretty sure Cook can feel the heat radiating off his face by now.
“Aww, thanks,” says Cook, and it’s not patronising at all. He looks genuinely flattered. “I… watch you kick monster ass every night on the news?”
David beams. Yeah, seriously, best day ever, no doubt about it. And then Jordin has to ruin their moment by saying over their communication headsets, “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re flirting with David Cook and leaving Allison and me to clean up this mess.”
That’s when David realizes that the town square really is one huge mess. The stage that Cook had been performing on is now nothing more than a pile of smoking wood, and the ground is littered with rubble and debris from destroyed buildings in the vicinity. The huge screen that had once hung over the stage and towered over the town square has been broken and shattered, and is now tilted at a precarious angle. David can see Jordin ushering civilians away from the danger zone while Allison ties the octopus up in its own tentacles. The octopus makes a pathetic sound, antennae drooping, and David feels momentarily bad for it. He also feels really guilty for not helping out.
He waves a hand at the scene. “I, uh, I have to go.”
Cook nods. “Yeah, of course, man. Go do your thing.”
“It was nice meeting you,” David says.
“I’m giving you a lifetime supply of free tickets to any concert of mine, whenever you want,” Cook says, and then David’s taking off, flying towards the large screen and holding it steady while the last of the civilians take shelter.
“Jeez, quit smiling like that. It’s creepy,” Allison says as she helps him stabilize the screen. They float down to where Jordin is discussing the octopus situation with the authorities.
“Sorry,” David says. He doesn’t stop smiling. Allison rolls her eyes at him and ruffles his hair. David feels like pointing out that that’s totally unsuitable since he’s older than her, but he’s in such a good mood now, so, whatever.
Mayor Cowell looks visibly pissed off about the octopus destroying his city. He’s making scathing remarks about ‘bloody marine life dropping out of the sky’ and ‘incompetent imbeciles! Morons, all of you’ while his nice secretary, Miss Abdul, pats Jordin on the shoulder and says, “Don’t worry, dear, he doesn’t mean you”. David and Allison land on either side of her, and Allison makes faces at Mayor Cowell’s back when he turns to glare at the octopus.
The octopus makes this sad little sound, and David feels guilty that they’ve tangled up its tentacles. It wobbles a bit on the spot, unbalanced and immobile, its antennae bopping and swivelling meekly. One of its wings sticks out at an odd angle, like it’s broken, and David really can’t help himself when he says, “I want to take it home.”
There’s this odd silence when everyone turns to stare at him, and then suddenly everyone’s talking at once. Mayor Cowell’s saying, “Fine, I don’t care, just get it out of here” and Allison’s calling the Professor to see if they couldn’t keep it in their basement and Jordin’s being all voice-of-reason, sighing, “We can’t, y’all. It’s a monster octopus.”
David feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around, feels his breath catch in his throat when Cook’s lips curl up in a crooked grin.
“You’re really something else,” Cook observes, like he’s stating a fact. His hand hasn’t left David’s shoulder.
“Um, thanks?” David scrunches up his face. He isn't really sure whether it’s a compliment.
Cook’s grip momentarily tightens on his shoulder. “It’s a compliment, Archuleta,” he says, as if he’s read David’s mind. And then he says, “I have a pool.”
“Um,” says David again, because really, Cook is so dang random, “That’s nice?”
Cook lets go of his shoulder and wanders forward to inspect the octopus. “It’s not a very big pool, but I have a huge garden, so maybe we can expand it or something.”
David’s eyes widen. “Are you offering to adopt the octopus?” And, wow, just when he thought he couldn’t like Cook any more.
Cook shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind. You have to admit, having a giant octopus in your backyard would be pretty kickass.”
“It would,” David agrees, beaming. He was totally right about this being a great day-not just for himself, but also for the octopus, who’d now have a great home with the awesome David Cook, and wouldn’t have to be cooped up in a lab with whatever mad scientist had made him.
In the end, the octopus goes to a veterinary hospital for a while to patch up its wing, while Cook gets his pool ready. Cook, as David finds out, lives in this really big house, okay, mansion, at the top of this hill where all the celebrities live or whatever, and has a really big and sprawling backyard that stretches partway down the hill and could totally house an octopus.
Cook gets his pool completely re-done, making it bigger and deeper, and he invites David over twice a week to check up on the renovation works.
“I need your opinion on whether you think the octopus can fit in the pool,” says Cook.
David tilts his head and looks at the hole in the ground measuringly. “Yeah, I think it can.”
“Awesome,” says Cook, then, “Hey, you wanna play some video games?”
And that’s how it goes for the rest of the month-David goes over to check on the pool and ends up staying for dinner.
“Huh,” says Allison. “I didn’t know such tactics actually worked outside of movies.”
David frowns. “What tactics?” They’re leaning against the kitchen counter eating a tub of ice-cream after stopping a bunch of crooks from robbing a bank. Jordin giggles, and David suddenly feels totally left out of the loop.
Allison waves her dessert spoon vaguely in the air. “You know. He invites you over under the pretence of looking at his pool or whatever, when it’s really just an excuse to have you over at his place. I mean, c’mon, David, he doesn’t need you to inspect his octopus habitat so often, that’s so lame.”
David blushes, because she’s totally got it all wrong, no way would Cook do something like that, especially not for his company. David just accepts every time, because, well, it is a pretty good excuse for David. He likes being over at Cook’s place. Even if Cook hadn’t meant it as such, David will take whatever he can get. “He really needs the help,” David protests. “He’s never owned an octopus before.”
“Okay,” says Allison. She’s totally hiding her grin behind the tub of ice-cream, David can see her.
“When’s the pool gonna be done?” Jordin asks.
“In a few weeks or so, probably?” David says. And then it suddenly hits him. When the pool’s done, Cook won’t have any reason to invite him over any more. David frowns. He’d started off having this idol-crush-thing on Cook, but then Cook had turned out to be so genuinely awesome, and, well. It had maybe sort of turned into a for-real-crush-thing. And, oh, that was bad, bad, bad.
“What’s wrong?” Jordin asks, full of concern. Allison leans over the counter and pokes at the furrow between his eyebrows in an attempt to make him laugh.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” David says as cheerfully as he can manage, and then disappears upstairs into his room before they can sic the Professor on him. He flops down on his bed and tries to avoid looking at the poster of David Cook he has on his wall. He needs a plan. Well, okay, he doesn’t. He already knows what he needs to do, it’s just going to be totally horrible to do it.
“Urgh,” says David, and tries not to remember that one time Cook laughed at him for actually saying out stereotypical sounds or whatever he had called it. Okay, so. David was going to have to get over his crush. Before Cook stopped inviting him over and David accidentally made a bigger deal out of it than it really was. They’d only known each other for a few weeks, really, they weren’t even best friends or whatever.
And so the next time Cook invites David over (“Archie, come see if I can maybe feed this to my octopus”), David goes and inspects the food (“Um, Cook? Please don’t put goldfishes in the pool. That’s kind of, um. Ew”) and then, before Cook can even offer him a soda, he says, “I have to go. I’ve a meeting with the mayor.” Which is totally true, except that the meeting is six hours away and David could have done the conference call over his mobile.
“Okay,” says Cook, and David so does not feel a little twinge in his chest at the fact that Cook doesn’t even look sad that he has to leave.
Cook invites him over again the day after next (“What about piranhas? Give it a little competition, y’know?”) and David goes over just to veto the piranhas and then flies home under the excuse that he has loads of homework to do.
But then Cook calls him after dinner, and Cook’s never called him just to chat before, which kind of throws David off-guard, and before he knows it, they’ve been on the phone for two hours and a half, talking about everything and nothing. David reads Cook some of his homework questions over the phone, and talks about that one time they stopped a chemical spill, and Cook sings a couple of verses of songs he’s writing and talks about going on tour.
“Speaking of which,” says Cook. “I need to do some promotional thing in a few states, in lieu of my tour being cut short.”
“If you’re well enough to do ‘promotional things’, won’t your fans wonder why you’re not well enough to go back on tour?”
Cook snorts. “Apparently, I’m well enough to sign a few autographs and take a few pictures. I’m already milking my octopus attack trauma for all it’s worth, okay? This hiatus has been the best fucking thing.”
David laughs and sketches a graph on his answer sheet. He sort of wants to ask Cook why he’s bothering to spend his valuable hiatus time on the phone with David, but he supposes it’s because Cook has no one else to talk to about octopi.
“Listen, Archie,” says Cook. “I’m leaving tomorrow and won’t be back until next week.”
David feels his stomach flip over a bit at that, which is weird, because he’s not known Cook for a majority of his life. He can do without him for a week.
“Will you house-sit for me?” Cook asks. “I need someone to oversee the pool construction and stuff.”
No, thinks David. No, Cook, I will not, because we need to hang out less. But Cook wouldn’t really be there, would he? It wouldn’t be considered hanging out at all if Cook wasn’t there and David lurked around an empty house, watching a few construction guys lay tiles and cement, right? Besides, Cook was doing a good thing by adopting the octopus and David really wanted to help out.
“Sure,” says David. “I can do that.”
And so David goes over to Cook’s house the next day and tries to do his homework on the lawn by the poolside, but the construction is really noisy and dusty, and he can’t concentrate at all. With a sigh, David picks up his books and glances around for somewhere else he can do his homework and keep an eye on the pool at the same time. He wants to be able to save any construction guys he sees from accidents. That gigantic hole is just a danger trap waiting to happen.
David spots a balcony on the third floor that overlooks the pool, and floats up there to take a look. The balcony doors are unlocked, and when David slides them apart and pushes back the curtains, oh, he’s in Cook’s bedroom. He’s never been up there before, and it’s surprisingly neat and tidy. David sniffs the air, and okay, he shouldn’t have done that, because it smells distinctly like Cook, his cologne or fabric softener or something, and, well, it’s really nice.
There’s a guitar in one corner, with a small pile of papers next to it. The sheet on top has ‘David’ scrawled at the top, with lines of what look like lyrics written below them. David thinks it’s cute that Cook feels the need to sign off his lyrics at the top of the page like they did with homework at school, and he sits on the bed and starts to read them, recognizing some of them from the parts Cook had sung to him on the phone last night.
Before David knows it, he’s being jolted awake by his phone vibrating in his pocket and he groans, sitting up in the bed, oh my gosh, wait, Cook’s bed. David feels himself blushing and is immensely glad that no one is there to see.
“Where are you?” Jordin yells down the phone, and she’s totally not one to yell, so David feels his heart hammering at the urgency of the situation. “Get downtown, quick! Gokey’s escaped from prison again.”
David actually feels sick to his stomach at the thought of failing in his duties to protect his city. He’s let his little thing for Cook get too far and it’s totally messing him up now and so it’s got to stop. David decides that it’s completely pointless liking someone who’ll never like you back in the same way. He grew up with two girls, okay, he’s seen all the romance movies and read chick lit. Unrequited love seldom works out.
When they get home from locking up a bunch of criminals, David goes up to his room and takes the Cook poster down. He still wants to be friends with Cook, but he knows he needs to give himself some distance from the guy and get over his stupid feelings and then they can have a very nice and wholesome, platonic friendship.
For the next week, he gets either Allison or Jordin to hang out with him at Cook’s place, so he doesn’t let himself feel too much at home, although Allison tells him it’s already a lost cause, because he unthinkingly helps himself to all of Cook’s stuff and knows where all the cutlery goes and how to use all of Cook’s many high-tech remotes and everything. This is so not good.
Cook calls him a few times during the week, but David resolutely lets it go to voice mail. He then lets Jordin listen to Cook’s messages for him, you know, just to see if they’re important. For all David knew, Cook could be in serious need of help, and even David’s enhanced hearing didn’t extend two states away (although a small part of David kind of knew-hoped-that he’d totally be able to sense if Cook was in trouble, even if he was trapped twenty feet under an icy avalanche at the South Pole).
The construction guys tell David that the pool’s going to take a couple of weeks longer than expected due to some delays caused by a minor breakdown in their machinery, so David writes that all down in a neat note and leaves it next to the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. There, he’s done.
David flies home, pausing only to help an old lady across the road, and to give a little girl back her balloon, and oh, to help that nice Mr Jackson from across the street catch his runaway puppy. Then, David curls up in bed and stares at the wall and tries not to be too depressed.
Eventually, Cook calls him six times and David deletes six voice messages (Cook was back in town now, so David was pretty sure they weren’t emergency calls) before he turns off his phone. He tries to watch TV, but paparazzi shots of Cook at the airport are everywhere, and Cook’s videos are topping the charts on MTV, so David can’t even rely on mindless entertainment anymore. How was he supposed to get over Cook, when Cook was unknowingly all up in his face?
“Ack,” says David, making a face at the space on his wall where the poster used to hang. Getting over someone sucked.
This goes on for a few more days, with Cook calling and David not picking up, and segues into Cook sending multiple e-mails and David deleting them. Finally, they stop altogether, and David feels a little ache in his chest that this is it.
He’s glad every time the emergency hotline rings because it gives him something to do, though he immediately feels bad about it, because it probably means someone’s in trouble somewhere. David can’t quite concentrate on the job, though, and gets totally chewed out by Mayor Cowell for accidentally destroying a monument.
Professor Seacrest sighs and gives David a big hug and strokes his hair, which is really nice, but honestly doesn’t make David feel better about anything at all. Then the Professor piles the whole family into his bed and makes them all cuddle up together like they did when they were younger.
“David,” says the Professor. “Why are you doing this?”
David mumbles something under his breath, so Jordin says, “He thinks it’s messin’ with his super-heroing.”
“Well, it’s even worse now, isn’t it?” the Professor says.
“He thinks Cook doesn’t like him back,” Allison offers. “Which, dude,” she pokes David in the stomach, “Is so not true.”
“I, um, actually, I don’t think he even wants to be friends anymore,” David says morosely, burrowing further into the blankets.
“Then you have nothing to lose by just talking to Cook about it, right?” the Professor says, just as the emergency hotline goes off. There’s a mad scramble of limbs as three teenagers dive instinctively for the phone.
Apparently, there’s a fire in one of the apartment complexes on the edge of town, and the Mayor-or rather, Miss Abdul, probably-was worried that the fire truck wouldn’t be able to get there in time. As soon as Jordin hangs up the phone, the three of them are zooming out of the window and racing towards the burning building. David can smell it burning from miles away, can hear the terrified screams for help.
And then suddenly, out of nowhere, there’s a giant robot with a flamethrower in their path, and that’s so ridiculous that it’d be funny if Dr. DioGuardi hadn’t been sitting perched on top of the robot, making it scorch the nearby buildings. Now it was still stupid-looking, but also really dangerous.
“Oh, heck no,” mutters Jordin into their communications headsets. “Allison, you-”
But before she can finish giving the order, the robot directs its flames towards them and David has to tuck and roll in mid-air to dive out of the way. He sees Allison and Jordin trying to get in closer to the robot, but Dr. DioGuardi swings the flamethrower in a big arc and forces them all to scatter again to get out of the way.
“This is so annoying,” says David, and, gosh dang, it was because he really, really needed to get to those people in the burning buildings now but the robot kept cutting him off with its flames or long metallic limbs. Allison fires her heat vision at the robot, but it reflects off its metallic body.
“Aim for the Doctor, y’all!” says Jordin as she swoops down from above.
And then David hears it. He hears the creak of the wood and the sharp crack as it finally snaps. He hears the rumble of stone and cement and bricks as the apartment’s foundations finally give way and shouts and screams as the building starts to collapse in on itself. And then, in the midst of all that chaos--
“Oh my gosh,” breathes David, because he can smell him. He can smell Cook’s cologne and laundry detergent and a scent that is so distinctly Cook above all the smoke and ash, can hear Cook’s voice as he shouts, “Wait here”, he can--
David dives down low, smoothly evading the metallic arms and flying low and close enough to the robot that the flamethrower can’t reach him. He sails between the robot’s legs, comes up and around the robot and dashes towards the burning building just in time to see Cook appear in a third-storey window, with the apartment aflame behind him, clutching a tiny, quivering ball of fur.
“Cook!” shouts David, and Cook is coughing from the smoke and rubbing at his eyes, but he looks up at David, looks up at him and smiles --and then he jumps out of the window.
“Oh my gosh!” David’s heart leaps into his throat and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and, wow, all those clichés are so true, after all, but David doesn’t care, he needs to reach Cook, to catch him before he hits the ground. Three storeys is so short, and yet so deadly. Please, David thinks, and he swoops down and reaches out desperately, and grabs Cook around the waist, mere feet from the ground.
Cook’s laughter is breathless in his ear as David’s momentum carries them upwards in a complete arc, and his heartbeat is fast and hard against David’s chest, and he’s holding on to David tightly with one solid arm, the other still clutching the pet he had saved.
“I hate you,” David tells him, because, seriously, he’s laughing, and this is not funny at all.
Cook’s breath is warm against the side of David’s face and his lips brush the back of David’s neck when he leans his head against David’s. “Jesus,” says Cook, and then he wheezes out another breathless chuckle.
David would totally roll his eyes at him, but Cook can’t see it anyway, so David slows their flight instead and floats them safely down to a fire-free rooftop. They stumble a little as they land, adrenaline and height differences, and Cook doesn’t let David go. He keeps his one free arm wrapped tightly around David, and like, breathes into his hair or whatever he’s doing, so David clutches him tightly back and buries his face in Cook’s shoulder.
Finally, Cook steps back slightly, but slides his arm up and leaves it with his palm cupping the back of David’s neck.
“Hi,” he says, with that irritatingly charming half-smile of his. His thumb rubs small circles into David’s skin, and David totally does not shiver.
“Hi, um,” says David, and he must be coming down from his adrenaline high, because he suddenly feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him and he can’t quite breathe and his heart is still going at a bazillion miles a minute.
“Why have you been ignoring me?” Cook asks out of nowhere, and David says, “I have not”, before he blushes and, okay, yeah, he kind of has. Cook gives him this look, which is like a cross between disappointed and patient and I totally see through you, Archuleta, and David feels really guilty all of a sudden.
“I, um, you see,” says David. And then he scoops up the bunny nestled in the crook of Cook’s arm and makes a break for it.
He returns the bunny to its owner and watches Jordin hand Dr. DioGuardi over to the police while Allison kicks at random robot debris.
“You so owe us, man,” says Allison.
“Oh my God, talk to him already,” says Jordin, motioning towards Cook. David sighs, and yeah, he might as well get it over with.
When he flies back up, Cook is sitting on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling over the side of the building. Cook pats the ledge next to him and David sits down, leaving a gap between them. They’re silent for a while, watching firemen and police and medics doing their best down below, and David fidgets uncomfortably.
“Um,” David finally says, because he has to know. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
Cook shrugs. “I was taking a walk. And then everything went to hell.”
“I don’t know whether or not to be mad at you for rushing into a burning building to save a bunny,” David admits.
Cook raises an eyebrow. “Like you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing.”
“It’s totally different,” David argues, and he’s not pouting, so Cook had better stop smirking stupidly like that. “I can heal faster than you can.”
“You guys were taking too long,” says Cook. David feels a wave of guilt come over him. What kind of superheroes were they, who couldn’t stop a manic scientist in time to save a bunny from a burning apartment?
“Hey,” says Cook, slinging a gentle arm around David’s shoulders and tugging him closer. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
David shifts nearer to Cook despite himself. Cook is warm and comforting, and for all his superpowers, David feels wiped out and exhausted.
“I’m sorry, too,” David says. He stares down at his hands. Okay, here goes nothing. David had better enjoy the last few seconds of their friendship while it lasted. “Cook?”
“Yeah?” Cook’s arm tightens around his shoulders, and, gee, David really wishes he wouldn’t do that.
“Um. Um, I, uh, don’t freak out, okay, but I’ve been trying to avoid you, and wow, you’re really hard to avoid, but I was sort of doing okay until you were, like, on the TV and everywhere, and, um, I really want us to be friends, and you’re so great to hang out with, but I kind of have this, this reallystupidcrushonyou and I thought it’d be better if we had a little more distance in our relationship so I can get over you.” David takes a deep breath, and feels both better and worse at the same time that it’s all out there.
There’s a slight pause as Cook takes it in, and David totally can’t look him in the eye, so he stares at his sneakers and hopes that the expression on Cook’s face isn't too horrible. Cook lifts his arm from David’s shoulder and David kind of dies a little, inside.
“Dude,” says Cook, and really, what was that supposed to mean? “Okay, one, ‘distance in our relationship’? What the hell kind of crap shows have you been watching on TV, Archuleta?" He pauses and David doesn't know if he really expects an answer. "And, two, have you gotten over your crush on me yet?”
“Um.”
“Can I take that as a ‘no’?”
“Um, no, I mean, yes, I mean--”
“I’d really like to take that as a ‘no’.”
“…Okay?” David’s mind is all fuzzy and cotton-y and he really wants this day to just be over and Cook was so stupid and annoying and what did he mean by that? “Wait, what?”
David blinks up at Cook. Cook has this atrociously large grin on his face, and a voice that sounds suspiciously like Cook’s in David’s head says, shit-eating, and oh my gosh, Cook is such a bad influence.
“Hey Archie,” Cook says casually. “I totally have a crush on you, too.”
And David was totally wrong. This was the best day of his life, ever.
“I thought you only hung out with me because I was the only one you could talk to about octopi.”
“We haven’t been talking about, what, octopi? At all, Archie.”
“So I can still, um, hang out with you after your pool is done, right?” David totally needs to be sure about this.
Cook makes a strange snorting sound. “Hell yeah. Who else is gonna help me take care of our octopus?”
And David smiles and smiles, because Cook said our octopus, and his mind is still reeling from that when Cook leans in and kisses him.
David makes a startled little sound, and almost tips off the rooftop. Cook laughs against his lips, and pulls back a little to give David time to collect himself, before brushing a hand along David’s cheek and kissing him again. Cook’s lips are warm and soft and only a little dry, and he has a slight hint of stubble, which is really, um, wow.
“Would you like to come over and help pick a name for our octopus?” Cook asks.
“Yes,” David says. “I really would.”
“Awesome,” says Cook. “And would you like to come over tomorrow to listen to a song I wrote for you?”
“Sure,” says David, and thinks of the lyrics he found in Cook’s room. He’s so not telling Cook that he’s already read them.
Cook grins at him. “And I’d really like for you to come over the day after that to hang out and, you know, snuggle on the couch.”
Cook says snuggle and David hears make out, because Cook is so like that, but he beams at Cook anyway and says, “Duh.” Because he’d really like that, too.