Fic: Gathered Together, 2/7, Rated R
Title: Gathered Together
Author: Courtney
Email: css576@yahoo.com
See part one for additional disclamiers and all that jazz.
Not being able to summon the strength to drag his luggage from the car, Cook had just gone upstairs and found a room that was as yet unoccupied, stripped to his black boxer briefs and pulled a quilt over himself. He was asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow.
When he emerged from unconsciousness, Cook looked around the room, trying to recall where he was. He spent so much time on the road that waking up to unfamiliar surrounding was starting to become the familiar. Still, there was that split second between sleep and waking when a mild panic would hit him, an anxious twisting he couldn't give a name to but that he knew was there. The feeling passed in an instant, as it always did, and he remembered the trip to Colorado, the house in the mountains, huddled away from the world with his best friends.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Cook swung his legs over the side of the bed and searched the room for a clock, but there was none to be found. He could see from the window that the sun was still out so surely he hadn't slept for too long.
A knock on the bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. "Davey?" he heard even as the door swung inward.
And there was Michael Johns. His best friend stepped into the room with a huge grin; coming over to hug Cook, obviously undeterred by his lack of clothing. "You sure your wife wants you hugging scantily-clad men, Mikey?" he asked as the Aussie gave him a tight squeeze.
"Ah, she'd probably have beaten me to it if she hadn't been sidetracked by Syesha and the baby bump," he replied.
"Yeah, how about that," Cook grinned. "Looks like Castro beat us all in the fatherhood race."
"Not that I'm surprised," Michael said. "He relates better to people who can't talk yet."
Cook barked a laugh and Michael just smiled. He'd always loved making David Cook laugh.
"You're here, I still can't believe it!" he said.
"Like you thought I would miss it. I mean, you only called me everyday for a month to make sure that I remembered the date."
Michael shrugged. "It wouldn't have been the same without you."
"So, you never did tell me, why here? And why just us? I mean, you guys don't have family coming? Other friends?"
Again, Michael shrugged. "We figured it was fitting this way. We met in a bubble where only the handful of us existed and that's where we wanted to do this, as well. Besides, our families are so far apart and we've both done this before. We'll probably end up having five or six of these things before it's all said and done. But the first one, the real one, we wanted to be with you guys."
Cook was taken aback a bit by the speech. He'd only mostly been teasing with his comments, but Michael had obviously given this a lot of thought.
"So, I guess I should put on some pants before I greet the future Mrs. Michael Johns, then?"
"Don't you dare!" came the reply, but not from Michael. Both men looked towards the door and saw Michael's bride-to-be standing there grinning. Cook wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but judging by the look on her face it had probably been long enough to hear Michael's speech. "He gets to hug you in your undies and I don't? I think not," she grinned.
Cook returned the smile as he made his way over to embrace her, underwear and all. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes and said, "Carly."
"Oh Davey, it's so good to see you," she said as she pulled him in for another hug. "I was afraid you wouldn't make it."
"And leave you to scrape him off the ceiling alone?" he teased, gesturing to Michael. "Not a chance. Besides, two of my best friends are finally getting married and you think I would miss it? Please."
"Yeah, can you believe that I agreed to this?" she asked. "I mean, I didn't learn my lesson with the first husband or what? But, he finally wore me down." She smirked at Michael and gave Cook a wink.
In all honesty, Cook couldn't believe it himself. He, Michael and Carly had been great friends back in their Idol days and had all made an effort to keep in touch. He'd known when Carly filed for divorce less than a year after the show ended, and when Michael followed suit only six months later. Still, he was shocked when he walked into Michael's house one day and found them making out on the living room floor. Not exactly what he’d expected, to say the least. He'd always known that they were meant to be together, he just never thought that they would figure it out for themselves.
"I'm really happy for you guys, Carls," he said, squeezing her hand in his.
"Okay, that's great," Michael chimed in, "but can you maybe grope my wife *after* you put your pants on?"
The three laughed; it was just like old times. Michael and Carly headed back downstairs together and Cook pulled his jeans and tee-shirt back on, not bothering with shoes as he went to join his friends.
From the top of the staircase he could see into the great room below and it looked as if the house was starting to fill up. Brooke came over to hug him as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, her husband Dave clasping his hand in a firm shake. Then Ramiele practically launched herself at him, her tiny frame wrapping around his own tightly.
After the greetings were behind them, they all sat down in the enormous great room to catch up on each other’s lives. Cook had probably garnered the most success of the group, but he was far from being the only one still in the spotlight. Ramiele had gone back to her childhood home in the Philippines the year after Idol ended and had made quite a career for herself there. She was as accustomed to sold out auditoriums as Cook himself.
Syesha had ended up doing what she’d always loved, musical theater. She’d done several stints on Broadway, even winning a Tony.
Meanwhile, Jason had settled in Miami coaching a youth soccer league and playing drums for a band his cousin fronted. It wasn’t the glaring spotlight of Hollywood, but that had suited him just fine.
Then, Syesha had been back in Florida visiting her family for a few weeks and she and a friend had gone down to Miami to hang out for a weekend. They’d ended up at the club where Jason was performing and the two had met eyes over the pounding beats and loud patrons and suddenly something had clicked. A year later, they were living together, splitting time between Florida and New York, and were blissfully happy. It was right around then that Syesha found out she was pregnant. And now, their world was changing all over again. Cook didn’t think he’d ever seen either of them looking quite so content.
Brooke and her husband were still living in Arizona, where he still had his accounting practice and she still worked on her music. She’d put out several albums, each a success in it’s own right. It wasn’t sold out shows to thousands, but she’d never really wanted that. Being able to keep music in her life and stay close to the ones she loved was all that Brooke really needed to make her happy.
Then there were Carly and Michael. After Idol, they’d each continued their singing careers, with varying degrees of success. Carly had released her last album the previous spring and it had produced a string of radio friendly tracks, a few of which Cook still caught on the airwaves from time to time. She seemed happy with her career and he was glad to finally see things working out for her.
Michael had also released a few albums and had a few singles, but he’d eventually decided to turn his talents to the production side of things. He’d been behind some of the biggest songs of the last several years, including some for both Carly and David, and really seemed to thrive on his work. Michael loved to sing, but producing seemed to be his true calling.
“So, any word from the others?” Cook asked as the catching up began to wind down.
“Well,” Carly said, “Chikezie’s out of the country and Amanda’s mom is ill so she couldn’t get away. Kristy said she might make it, but she wasn’t sure so I don’t really expect her. And David . . . well, he said he’d do what he could.”
There was no need to mention David Hernandez as Cook knew that he hadn’t been invited. They’d never really gotten a chance to know him, so he and the other contestants didn’t really feel like he was a part of their little family. As for Archie, Cook knew the others were watching his reaction to the news that the younger man would likely not be spending the weekend with them. They all knew that there was something between the two of them, even if it had never been said or even acted upon. Now, five years later, the vacuum-sealed world of American Idol so far behind them, Cook began to wonder if it ever would.
Over the years, he’d gone back and forth in his feelings for David Archuleta. First, he was an annoying kid with too much talent for his own good and too much innocence for Cook’s. Then, after he’d really gotten to know the kid, Cook had grown to admire and respect him for the very things that he’d found so annoying in the first place. David was such a genuine person, so real and honest and true, that no one who truly knew him had any choice but to love him.
And there in lay the problem. Cook began to feel like the love that he had for the younger man was too much, too intense, to be purely the feelings of a friend, of an older brother. He started to realize as Idol was winding to a close that he was truly falling in love with David Archuleta. And he had no idea what to do about it.
So, that was when he’d begun to pull away. He’d asked Kimberly out on live television, right in front of the kid. He’d dated several girls, and even a few guys, while they were on tour and David had been aware of them all. Cook wasn’t sure if the fact that he didn’t seem to mind should feel like a victory or a defeat. In the end, it just felt like a draw.
He stayed in touch with David after the tour, because they truly were good friends. They’d hang out with some of the others now and again, maybe wind up talking at a party or seeing each other at some random charity event. Still, it was never the same. Cook knew that he himself had kept a certain distance. In some ways, he didn’t want to be the one to steer David down in the wrong path. But then, he was also terrified of finding out that his feelings weren’t returned. It was one thing to exist knowing that he and David couldn’t be together; it was quite another to live with the knowledge that David didn’t want him. That, Cook knew, might be more than he could handle.
* * * * *
After dinner, which consisted of an enormous amount of catered food that Michael and Carly had brought in, everyone was full and exhausted. Syesha was the first to droop, a fact that Jason was soon to point out.
“I’m an adult,” she groused as he proclaimed it her ‘bedtime’. Still, when he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, she conceded. Jason helped her to her feet, then wrapped his arm around her as they said their goodnights and disappeared into their room.
“They are just the cutest damned thing in the world, aren’t they?” Carly gushed.
“You ready for that, babe?” Michael asked as he snuggled in next to her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her. “You, me, and a house full of screaming kids nipping at our heels.” He smiled serenely as Carly flicked his ear.
“Goof,” she chastised. “You can’t wait and you know it.” Michael just shrugged, meaning that she had him completely pegged. Cook gave it a year before Carly was the one struggling to her feet from a sitting position and Michael was the mother hen following her around every second of the day. The thought made him smile.
“Well, I think we’re headed to bed, too,” Brooke announced as she and Dave rose from the couch together. Ramiele nodded and said that she was beat as well. There were two rooms downstairs and three upstairs. Syesha and Jason, Brooke and Dave ended up in the downstairs rooms, and Michael and Carly, Cook, and Ramiele occupied the ones upstairs.
“So,” Cook said when the others were gone, “I never got too many details on this wedding other than that I better be here. What do I need to know?”
“Nothing, really,” Carly replied. “It’s not going to be a big thing. We’ve got an official coming here on Sunday and we’ll do it here, in the living room. We had the lodge bring some chairs in and they’ll come over and rearrange the furniture on Sunday morning.”
“And the cake,” Michael added. “Don’t forget the cake.”
Carly rolled her eyes. “You see how important I am to him, Davey? We’re getting married and all he can think about is his bloody stomach,” she grinned.
Michael snuggled in closer to her on the couch and kissed her neck saying, “Oh baby, you know I love you more than cake.”
“Is that what you had engraved on her ring?” Cook asked. They all burst out laughing and Michael threw a pillow at the younger man.
“Way to kill my mojo,” he chided.
Carly looked at her husband-to-be, shaking her head at him. She smirked, then gave Cook a wink. “Come on then,” she said to Michael as she stood and took his hand to pull him up from the couch. “Let’s get your mojo to bed already. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
Michael wagged his eyebrows towards Cook and smiled leeringly at Carly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Carly muttered, “Maniac,” and swatted him on the ass. “David, you staying up a while?” she asked.
“Just a little longer,” he replied. He told himself that he wasn’t waiting up for Archie; that it was just that his nap that afternoon had thrown off his sleep patterns. He even almost believed it.
“Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said as she stepped forward and kissed his cheek. “’Night.”
“Good night, Carly.”
“’Night, mate. Really glad you made it,” Michael said, clapping a hand on Cook’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he replied, “me too. See you guys in the morning.”
He turned on the television, keeping the volume low so as not to wake the others. He flipped through several channels, finally settling on an infomercial for some kitchen gadget he’d never heard of. Within about ten minutes, he was almost ready to order one. He picked up the remote and flipped the television back off with a sigh. “Ron Popiel, you evil genius, you,” he muttered.
Rising from the couch, he figured he might as well get some sleep. Not like there was anything or anyone to wait up for. His foot was on the first step of the staircase when he heard the door open.
He stopped, unconsciously holding his breath as he listened. Cook turned just as a soft, familiar voice called, “Anyone still awake?” Cook felt his heart stop as David Archuleta entered the room.
* * * * *
Part 3
Author: Courtney
Email: css576@yahoo.com
See part one for additional disclamiers and all that jazz.
Not being able to summon the strength to drag his luggage from the car, Cook had just gone upstairs and found a room that was as yet unoccupied, stripped to his black boxer briefs and pulled a quilt over himself. He was asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow.
When he emerged from unconsciousness, Cook looked around the room, trying to recall where he was. He spent so much time on the road that waking up to unfamiliar surrounding was starting to become the familiar. Still, there was that split second between sleep and waking when a mild panic would hit him, an anxious twisting he couldn't give a name to but that he knew was there. The feeling passed in an instant, as it always did, and he remembered the trip to Colorado, the house in the mountains, huddled away from the world with his best friends.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Cook swung his legs over the side of the bed and searched the room for a clock, but there was none to be found. He could see from the window that the sun was still out so surely he hadn't slept for too long.
A knock on the bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. "Davey?" he heard even as the door swung inward.
And there was Michael Johns. His best friend stepped into the room with a huge grin; coming over to hug Cook, obviously undeterred by his lack of clothing. "You sure your wife wants you hugging scantily-clad men, Mikey?" he asked as the Aussie gave him a tight squeeze.
"Ah, she'd probably have beaten me to it if she hadn't been sidetracked by Syesha and the baby bump," he replied.
"Yeah, how about that," Cook grinned. "Looks like Castro beat us all in the fatherhood race."
"Not that I'm surprised," Michael said. "He relates better to people who can't talk yet."
Cook barked a laugh and Michael just smiled. He'd always loved making David Cook laugh.
"You're here, I still can't believe it!" he said.
"Like you thought I would miss it. I mean, you only called me everyday for a month to make sure that I remembered the date."
Michael shrugged. "It wouldn't have been the same without you."
"So, you never did tell me, why here? And why just us? I mean, you guys don't have family coming? Other friends?"
Again, Michael shrugged. "We figured it was fitting this way. We met in a bubble where only the handful of us existed and that's where we wanted to do this, as well. Besides, our families are so far apart and we've both done this before. We'll probably end up having five or six of these things before it's all said and done. But the first one, the real one, we wanted to be with you guys."
Cook was taken aback a bit by the speech. He'd only mostly been teasing with his comments, but Michael had obviously given this a lot of thought.
"So, I guess I should put on some pants before I greet the future Mrs. Michael Johns, then?"
"Don't you dare!" came the reply, but not from Michael. Both men looked towards the door and saw Michael's bride-to-be standing there grinning. Cook wasn't sure how long she'd been there, but judging by the look on her face it had probably been long enough to hear Michael's speech. "He gets to hug you in your undies and I don't? I think not," she grinned.
Cook returned the smile as he made his way over to embrace her, underwear and all. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes and said, "Carly."
"Oh Davey, it's so good to see you," she said as she pulled him in for another hug. "I was afraid you wouldn't make it."
"And leave you to scrape him off the ceiling alone?" he teased, gesturing to Michael. "Not a chance. Besides, two of my best friends are finally getting married and you think I would miss it? Please."
"Yeah, can you believe that I agreed to this?" she asked. "I mean, I didn't learn my lesson with the first husband or what? But, he finally wore me down." She smirked at Michael and gave Cook a wink.
In all honesty, Cook couldn't believe it himself. He, Michael and Carly had been great friends back in their Idol days and had all made an effort to keep in touch. He'd known when Carly filed for divorce less than a year after the show ended, and when Michael followed suit only six months later. Still, he was shocked when he walked into Michael's house one day and found them making out on the living room floor. Not exactly what he’d expected, to say the least. He'd always known that they were meant to be together, he just never thought that they would figure it out for themselves.
"I'm really happy for you guys, Carls," he said, squeezing her hand in his.
"Okay, that's great," Michael chimed in, "but can you maybe grope my wife *after* you put your pants on?"
The three laughed; it was just like old times. Michael and Carly headed back downstairs together and Cook pulled his jeans and tee-shirt back on, not bothering with shoes as he went to join his friends.
From the top of the staircase he could see into the great room below and it looked as if the house was starting to fill up. Brooke came over to hug him as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, her husband Dave clasping his hand in a firm shake. Then Ramiele practically launched herself at him, her tiny frame wrapping around his own tightly.
After the greetings were behind them, they all sat down in the enormous great room to catch up on each other’s lives. Cook had probably garnered the most success of the group, but he was far from being the only one still in the spotlight. Ramiele had gone back to her childhood home in the Philippines the year after Idol ended and had made quite a career for herself there. She was as accustomed to sold out auditoriums as Cook himself.
Syesha had ended up doing what she’d always loved, musical theater. She’d done several stints on Broadway, even winning a Tony.
Meanwhile, Jason had settled in Miami coaching a youth soccer league and playing drums for a band his cousin fronted. It wasn’t the glaring spotlight of Hollywood, but that had suited him just fine.
Then, Syesha had been back in Florida visiting her family for a few weeks and she and a friend had gone down to Miami to hang out for a weekend. They’d ended up at the club where Jason was performing and the two had met eyes over the pounding beats and loud patrons and suddenly something had clicked. A year later, they were living together, splitting time between Florida and New York, and were blissfully happy. It was right around then that Syesha found out she was pregnant. And now, their world was changing all over again. Cook didn’t think he’d ever seen either of them looking quite so content.
Brooke and her husband were still living in Arizona, where he still had his accounting practice and she still worked on her music. She’d put out several albums, each a success in it’s own right. It wasn’t sold out shows to thousands, but she’d never really wanted that. Being able to keep music in her life and stay close to the ones she loved was all that Brooke really needed to make her happy.
Then there were Carly and Michael. After Idol, they’d each continued their singing careers, with varying degrees of success. Carly had released her last album the previous spring and it had produced a string of radio friendly tracks, a few of which Cook still caught on the airwaves from time to time. She seemed happy with her career and he was glad to finally see things working out for her.
Michael had also released a few albums and had a few singles, but he’d eventually decided to turn his talents to the production side of things. He’d been behind some of the biggest songs of the last several years, including some for both Carly and David, and really seemed to thrive on his work. Michael loved to sing, but producing seemed to be his true calling.
“So, any word from the others?” Cook asked as the catching up began to wind down.
“Well,” Carly said, “Chikezie’s out of the country and Amanda’s mom is ill so she couldn’t get away. Kristy said she might make it, but she wasn’t sure so I don’t really expect her. And David . . . well, he said he’d do what he could.”
There was no need to mention David Hernandez as Cook knew that he hadn’t been invited. They’d never really gotten a chance to know him, so he and the other contestants didn’t really feel like he was a part of their little family. As for Archie, Cook knew the others were watching his reaction to the news that the younger man would likely not be spending the weekend with them. They all knew that there was something between the two of them, even if it had never been said or even acted upon. Now, five years later, the vacuum-sealed world of American Idol so far behind them, Cook began to wonder if it ever would.
Over the years, he’d gone back and forth in his feelings for David Archuleta. First, he was an annoying kid with too much talent for his own good and too much innocence for Cook’s. Then, after he’d really gotten to know the kid, Cook had grown to admire and respect him for the very things that he’d found so annoying in the first place. David was such a genuine person, so real and honest and true, that no one who truly knew him had any choice but to love him.
And there in lay the problem. Cook began to feel like the love that he had for the younger man was too much, too intense, to be purely the feelings of a friend, of an older brother. He started to realize as Idol was winding to a close that he was truly falling in love with David Archuleta. And he had no idea what to do about it.
So, that was when he’d begun to pull away. He’d asked Kimberly out on live television, right in front of the kid. He’d dated several girls, and even a few guys, while they were on tour and David had been aware of them all. Cook wasn’t sure if the fact that he didn’t seem to mind should feel like a victory or a defeat. In the end, it just felt like a draw.
He stayed in touch with David after the tour, because they truly were good friends. They’d hang out with some of the others now and again, maybe wind up talking at a party or seeing each other at some random charity event. Still, it was never the same. Cook knew that he himself had kept a certain distance. In some ways, he didn’t want to be the one to steer David down in the wrong path. But then, he was also terrified of finding out that his feelings weren’t returned. It was one thing to exist knowing that he and David couldn’t be together; it was quite another to live with the knowledge that David didn’t want him. That, Cook knew, might be more than he could handle.
* * * * *
After dinner, which consisted of an enormous amount of catered food that Michael and Carly had brought in, everyone was full and exhausted. Syesha was the first to droop, a fact that Jason was soon to point out.
“I’m an adult,” she groused as he proclaimed it her ‘bedtime’. Still, when he grasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, she conceded. Jason helped her to her feet, then wrapped his arm around her as they said their goodnights and disappeared into their room.
“They are just the cutest damned thing in the world, aren’t they?” Carly gushed.
“You ready for that, babe?” Michael asked as he snuggled in next to her on the couch and wrapped his arms around her. “You, me, and a house full of screaming kids nipping at our heels.” He smiled serenely as Carly flicked his ear.
“Goof,” she chastised. “You can’t wait and you know it.” Michael just shrugged, meaning that she had him completely pegged. Cook gave it a year before Carly was the one struggling to her feet from a sitting position and Michael was the mother hen following her around every second of the day. The thought made him smile.
“Well, I think we’re headed to bed, too,” Brooke announced as she and Dave rose from the couch together. Ramiele nodded and said that she was beat as well. There were two rooms downstairs and three upstairs. Syesha and Jason, Brooke and Dave ended up in the downstairs rooms, and Michael and Carly, Cook, and Ramiele occupied the ones upstairs.
“So,” Cook said when the others were gone, “I never got too many details on this wedding other than that I better be here. What do I need to know?”
“Nothing, really,” Carly replied. “It’s not going to be a big thing. We’ve got an official coming here on Sunday and we’ll do it here, in the living room. We had the lodge bring some chairs in and they’ll come over and rearrange the furniture on Sunday morning.”
“And the cake,” Michael added. “Don’t forget the cake.”
Carly rolled her eyes. “You see how important I am to him, Davey? We’re getting married and all he can think about is his bloody stomach,” she grinned.
Michael snuggled in closer to her on the couch and kissed her neck saying, “Oh baby, you know I love you more than cake.”
“Is that what you had engraved on her ring?” Cook asked. They all burst out laughing and Michael threw a pillow at the younger man.
“Way to kill my mojo,” he chided.
Carly looked at her husband-to-be, shaking her head at him. She smirked, then gave Cook a wink. “Come on then,” she said to Michael as she stood and took his hand to pull him up from the couch. “Let’s get your mojo to bed already. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
Michael wagged his eyebrows towards Cook and smiled leeringly at Carly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Carly muttered, “Maniac,” and swatted him on the ass. “David, you staying up a while?” she asked.
“Just a little longer,” he replied. He told himself that he wasn’t waiting up for Archie; that it was just that his nap that afternoon had thrown off his sleep patterns. He even almost believed it.
“Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said as she stepped forward and kissed his cheek. “’Night.”
“Good night, Carly.”
“’Night, mate. Really glad you made it,” Michael said, clapping a hand on Cook’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he replied, “me too. See you guys in the morning.”
He turned on the television, keeping the volume low so as not to wake the others. He flipped through several channels, finally settling on an infomercial for some kitchen gadget he’d never heard of. Within about ten minutes, he was almost ready to order one. He picked up the remote and flipped the television back off with a sigh. “Ron Popiel, you evil genius, you,” he muttered.
Rising from the couch, he figured he might as well get some sleep. Not like there was anything or anyone to wait up for. His foot was on the first step of the staircase when he heard the door open.
He stopped, unconsciously holding his breath as he listened. Cook turned just as a soft, familiar voice called, “Anyone still awake?” Cook felt his heart stop as David Archuleta entered the room.
* * * * *
Part 3