'Mamihlapinatapai' [David Archuleta/David Cook]
Title: 'Mamihlapinatapai'
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: American Idol
Rating: PG
Pairing: David Archuleta/David Cook
Word Count: ~1,100
Summary: Mamihlapinatapai is a word from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego, listed in The Guinness Book of World Records as the "most succinct word," and is considered one of the hardest words to translate. It describes a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start. This could perhaps be translated more succinctly as "eye-contact implying 'after you...'" A more literal approximation is "ending up mutually at a loss as to what to do about each other."
Disclaimer: Ugh, the Davids are too awesome to be owned. They own. Also, the interview mentioned (which is cringe-worthily fantastic in a very Archie kind of way) can be found here.
Author's Notes: I really, I can't write anything more than PG as far as David Archuleta is concerned. He's so precious and innocent, my goodness. I absolutely cannot bring myself to defile this kid, so... you get this.
---<---<---@
David’s kind of not himself these days, or at least not quite who he thought he was. Being on “American Idol” is such an intense experience to begin with, and because he’s with the other contestants pretty much 24/7 they all grow incredibly close incredibly quickly. He’s even stopped flinching when Cook comes up and puts his hands on David’s back, kneading the muscles with a predictable, reassuring cadence. David’s never felt closer to a group of people in his life - not his friends from school, not his youth group, nobody. It’s really… it’s really weird.
--
He wishes the jittery feeling he gets when Cook is nearby would stop, though. He’s pretty sure it’s a hero worship kind of thing because Cook’s so much older than him and so together - he can talk on camera without getting tongue-tied and is really awesome on the guitar. David’s felt like this in the past about a few people (older kids at church, mainly) but this time it’s more awkward because he and Cook are with each other practically all the time. Cook really seems to like him, too, which makes everything worse in a sense because it means they hang out even when they’re not forced to, but David really enjoys being around him, so… there’s that.
--
This one time, an interviewer calls him a sex symbol and David feels a flush creeping up his neck, hot and prickling. That’s a weird word, he says. Cook laughs and laughs.
--
“It’s not a bad thing to be attractive, you know,” Cook says later, over dinner. (Both sick of catering, they ordered Thai food after David let slip how much he liked it. Cook insisted on paying.)
“What do you mean?” David asks, not meeting the other man’s eyes. (Next time they do this, he’s so picking up the tab.)
“What that chick said earlier,” Cook responds conversationally, leaning across to stab a piece of shrimp with his fork. “It’s not a sin to be good-looking; it’s what you do with it that matters.” David doesn’t say anything, so he continues, “Let’s put it this way - if you started doing shirtless photo shoots for GQ, I’d be worried.”
David’s eyebrows shoot up and he murmurs a gosh under his breath. “I just, um.” He laughs nervously. “That word.”
Cook quirks one of his own eyebrows, a teasing grin playing across his lips. This is never a good sign. “Which word might that be?”
David doesn’t reply.
“Come on, just say it.”
David shakes his head slightly, automatically, and he doesn’t even realize he’s done it until afterwards. Cook rolls his eyes.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you - there’s a world of difference between saying something and actually acting on it. The world isn’t going to explode if you say sex.”
David doesn’t mean to twitch quite so violently at the end of Cook’s sentence, but it’s not like he can really control it.
“The world’s not gonna explode if you act on it either,” Cook concedes, “but somehow I don’t think you’re there yet.”
“Oh! Um. No, I’m. ...No.” David gives up on his response, laughing uneasily. It sounds high - staccato, even - and he forces himself to stop.
--
Over the next few days, Cook turns their conversation into this weird, awkward game involving bounding up at random intervals and hissing That Word into David’s ear, chuckling when the boy loses his (often already precarious) grasp on whatever sentence he’s in the middle of. Eventually David has to call him on it, which he hate hate hates having to do. It makes him feel, like, bossy or something, because how other people behave totally isn’t his call. Cook is kind of going too far, though. He really is.
“You know, I wish you wouldn’t, um. Do that,” he says quietly, focusing his gaze very deliberately on a point just above Cook’s right ear.
Cook puts a hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t flinch, not even a little bit, so he feels rather proud of himself in spite of everything.
“Sorry, Archie, I’m just trying to get you used to it.”
“Used to what?”
Cook gives him a look that says you know what. David feels his cheeks getting hot again and, gosh, he normally doesn’t blush this much. He stares at the ground and shuffles his feet a little.
“I know, I - I’m weird. I’m a weirdo.”
“No, you’re not,” Cook says gently. “You’re just reserved. It’s actually kind of charming.”
David looks up and meets his eyes. “Really?”
“Really. But… you’d better get used to people saying stuff like that about you, you know? After you win this thing, you’re gonna be hearing it a lot.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” David stutters out, the corners of his lips curving into a smile in spite of himself. “Don’t say that, Cook, we’re not even - you’ll jinx it.”
Cook beams and David notices that his eyes are smiling right along with his mouth. “Nothing could jinx you at the moment, Arch, and if you don’t wanna listen to me then listen to the judges. You’re gonna be a superstar.”
David doesn’t believe that at all whenever the judges or the other contestants or his family and friends say it; he always kind of feels like they’re being nice to him because he’s short and seventeen and shy to the point of seeming like he’ll shatter if somebody says the wrong thing, but with Cook it’s different. Cook actually speaks as if he means it, which in turn makes David feel like his dreams might not always stay dreams - that one day they might become his reality.
“Thanks,” he says softly, smiling his real smile instead of the uncertain one he uses for the cameras.
Cook shoots him another grin and sort of rubs the younger boy’s cheekbone with his thumb. Cook’s very tactile and while David’s not sure he’ll ever feel completely comfortable with that, it’s less of a problem than it used to be. He turns his head to the side and nuzzles Cook’s wrist with his nose. He’s aware of Cook’s breath hitching slightly, but when their eyes meet again the other man’s gaze is clear and calm.
“I -” Cook begins, then stops himself, shakes his head and smiles. Something in David’s chest flutters. “You’re welcome.”
---<---<---@
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: American Idol
Rating: PG
Pairing: David Archuleta/David Cook
Word Count: ~1,100
Summary: Mamihlapinatapai is a word from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego, listed in The Guinness Book of World Records as the "most succinct word," and is considered one of the hardest words to translate. It describes a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start. This could perhaps be translated more succinctly as "eye-contact implying 'after you...'" A more literal approximation is "ending up mutually at a loss as to what to do about each other."
Disclaimer: Ugh, the Davids are too awesome to be owned. They own. Also, the interview mentioned (which is cringe-worthily fantastic in a very Archie kind of way) can be found here.
Author's Notes: I really, I can't write anything more than PG as far as David Archuleta is concerned. He's so precious and innocent, my goodness. I absolutely cannot bring myself to defile this kid, so... you get this.
---<---<---@
David’s kind of not himself these days, or at least not quite who he thought he was. Being on “American Idol” is such an intense experience to begin with, and because he’s with the other contestants pretty much 24/7 they all grow incredibly close incredibly quickly. He’s even stopped flinching when Cook comes up and puts his hands on David’s back, kneading the muscles with a predictable, reassuring cadence. David’s never felt closer to a group of people in his life - not his friends from school, not his youth group, nobody. It’s really… it’s really weird.
--
He wishes the jittery feeling he gets when Cook is nearby would stop, though. He’s pretty sure it’s a hero worship kind of thing because Cook’s so much older than him and so together - he can talk on camera without getting tongue-tied and is really awesome on the guitar. David’s felt like this in the past about a few people (older kids at church, mainly) but this time it’s more awkward because he and Cook are with each other practically all the time. Cook really seems to like him, too, which makes everything worse in a sense because it means they hang out even when they’re not forced to, but David really enjoys being around him, so… there’s that.
--
This one time, an interviewer calls him a sex symbol and David feels a flush creeping up his neck, hot and prickling. That’s a weird word, he says. Cook laughs and laughs.
--
“It’s not a bad thing to be attractive, you know,” Cook says later, over dinner. (Both sick of catering, they ordered Thai food after David let slip how much he liked it. Cook insisted on paying.)
“What do you mean?” David asks, not meeting the other man’s eyes. (Next time they do this, he’s so picking up the tab.)
“What that chick said earlier,” Cook responds conversationally, leaning across to stab a piece of shrimp with his fork. “It’s not a sin to be good-looking; it’s what you do with it that matters.” David doesn’t say anything, so he continues, “Let’s put it this way - if you started doing shirtless photo shoots for GQ, I’d be worried.”
David’s eyebrows shoot up and he murmurs a gosh under his breath. “I just, um.” He laughs nervously. “That word.”
Cook quirks one of his own eyebrows, a teasing grin playing across his lips. This is never a good sign. “Which word might that be?”
David doesn’t reply.
“Come on, just say it.”
David shakes his head slightly, automatically, and he doesn’t even realize he’s done it until afterwards. Cook rolls his eyes.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you - there’s a world of difference between saying something and actually acting on it. The world isn’t going to explode if you say sex.”
David doesn’t mean to twitch quite so violently at the end of Cook’s sentence, but it’s not like he can really control it.
“The world’s not gonna explode if you act on it either,” Cook concedes, “but somehow I don’t think you’re there yet.”
“Oh! Um. No, I’m. ...No.” David gives up on his response, laughing uneasily. It sounds high - staccato, even - and he forces himself to stop.
--
Over the next few days, Cook turns their conversation into this weird, awkward game involving bounding up at random intervals and hissing That Word into David’s ear, chuckling when the boy loses his (often already precarious) grasp on whatever sentence he’s in the middle of. Eventually David has to call him on it, which he hate hate hates having to do. It makes him feel, like, bossy or something, because how other people behave totally isn’t his call. Cook is kind of going too far, though. He really is.
“You know, I wish you wouldn’t, um. Do that,” he says quietly, focusing his gaze very deliberately on a point just above Cook’s right ear.
Cook puts a hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t flinch, not even a little bit, so he feels rather proud of himself in spite of everything.
“Sorry, Archie, I’m just trying to get you used to it.”
“Used to what?”
Cook gives him a look that says you know what. David feels his cheeks getting hot again and, gosh, he normally doesn’t blush this much. He stares at the ground and shuffles his feet a little.
“I know, I - I’m weird. I’m a weirdo.”
“No, you’re not,” Cook says gently. “You’re just reserved. It’s actually kind of charming.”
David looks up and meets his eyes. “Really?”
“Really. But… you’d better get used to people saying stuff like that about you, you know? After you win this thing, you’re gonna be hearing it a lot.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” David stutters out, the corners of his lips curving into a smile in spite of himself. “Don’t say that, Cook, we’re not even - you’ll jinx it.”
Cook beams and David notices that his eyes are smiling right along with his mouth. “Nothing could jinx you at the moment, Arch, and if you don’t wanna listen to me then listen to the judges. You’re gonna be a superstar.”
David doesn’t believe that at all whenever the judges or the other contestants or his family and friends say it; he always kind of feels like they’re being nice to him because he’s short and seventeen and shy to the point of seeming like he’ll shatter if somebody says the wrong thing, but with Cook it’s different. Cook actually speaks as if he means it, which in turn makes David feel like his dreams might not always stay dreams - that one day they might become his reality.
“Thanks,” he says softly, smiling his real smile instead of the uncertain one he uses for the cameras.
Cook shoots him another grin and sort of rubs the younger boy’s cheekbone with his thumb. Cook’s very tactile and while David’s not sure he’ll ever feel completely comfortable with that, it’s less of a problem than it used to be. He turns his head to the side and nuzzles Cook’s wrist with his nose. He’s aware of Cook’s breath hitching slightly, but when their eyes meet again the other man’s gaze is clear and calm.
“I -” Cook begins, then stops himself, shakes his head and smiles. Something in David’s chest flutters. “You’re welcome.”
---<---<---@