FIC: The Long Way Home, 2/4, Rated NC-17
Title: The Long Way Home
Author:courts
Email: css576@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for additonal headers and such.
It was nearly noon by the time that David woke up for the second time that day. He was lying on his stomach, Cook pressed warm against his bare back. He could feel Cook's lips on his neck, kissing him back to consciousness. "Wake up, sleepyhead," his voice purred in David's ear.
"Mmm," David groaned. "Don't you sleep?"
"And waste all this quality time we have together? Not a chance, sweet cheeks," he said, reaching down to rub David's ass for emphasis.
David grinned, turning onto his side and looking back over his shoulder at Cook. "I don't think I can go again yet," he confessed. Three times in one morning was pushing it, even for a 22-year-old.
"That's okay, I was actually thinking about breakfast," Cook admitted as he bent to kiss his partner's shoulder. "You hungry?"
David shrugged. "I could eat."
Cook nodded, turning to get out of bed and walk towards the bathroom. Over his shoulder he called back, "I'll make omelets." David didn't respond; he was too busy watching Cook's bare backside as he walked away. "Stop ogling me, Archuleta," the older man teased, not even needing to turn around to know what was going on. The younger man blushed and giggled, before falling onto his back to wait his turn for the bathroom.
* * * * *
One thing that David could say for Cook; he made a mean omelet. It was one of his few culinary talents, aside from spaghetti and peanut butter cookies, but he had perfected it nonetheless. David finished his last bite washing it down with a gulp of the orange juice that Cook bought because he knew that David didn't drink coffee, and wiped his mouth with a paper towel. "Thanks, that was awesome," he said.
"We have to keep our strength up," Cook told him with a wink.
"At the rate we're going, you should probably buy more eggs," David kidded. Cook cocked an eyebrow and David quickly added, "Not that I'm complaining." His lips curved into the easy smile that he always felt like he wore around Cook. Sometimes he just couldn't help it. Just being near Cook made him feel giddy.
Cook rose from the table and grabbed both of their plates, depositing them in the sink along with the skillet he'd cooked in. "How about a movie?" he asked as he returned to the table and sat across from David.
"I thought we were spending the rest of the day 'locked away together from the cold cruel world' as you so eloquently put it," David teased.
"Duh, I meant a movie *here*," Cook said as he rolled his eyes and grinned at David's repetition of his own proclamation. "I have all the X-Men on DVD," he offered as his eyes glittered with mischief. "I know how you feel about Wolverine," he said with a wink.
David smirked and replied, "I like the action."
"Yeah," Cook said with a roll of his eyes. "That's what it is." He chuckled, holding his palms up in surrender. "Whatever you say, Arch. I just know that the last time we saw 'The Last Stand' I remember you being very . . . how should I put this? Let's go with *enthusiastic*."
"I don't remember hearing you complain," David pointed out and Cook quickly shook his head.
"Nope, no complaints here," Cook smiled. "So, movie?"
"Yeah, okay," David agreed. He finished his juice and went to put his glass in the sink, then followed Cook downstairs to the den. Cook's house wasn't huge but, for southern California, it was a pretty decent size. It was in the Hollywood Hills, sheltered by trees and looking down over the twinkling lights of the busy city below. There was a daylight basement with a den where Cook kept his big flat panel television.
David sank onto the soft, buttery leather of Cook's oversized sofa and watched as Cook rooted through a cabinet full of DVDs, coming up with two choices. He held up the first and second X-Men movies and David shrugged. "You pick," he told Cook. Cook chose the first and put it into the player, then plopped down on the sofa beside David.
By the time they were halfway through the movie, David was propped in one corner of the sofa with Cook's head lying on his thighs. David's fingers raked through Cook's hair absently as he watched the screen. Cook had one hand on David's knee and was rubbing slow circles with his fingertips. David smiled, loving that they couldn't stop touching each other even for the duration of one movie.
When the movie ended, David looked down again to find that Cook was asleep in his lap. He thought about waking him, then decided that a nap might be a good idea so, instead, he shifted his position to try and put his legs up on the couch without disturbing his partner. This proved to be more difficult that he had imagined and David felt Cook begin to stir.
"What're you doing? Movie over?" Cook asked with a yawn as he lifted his head and squinted up at David.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," David said. "I was trying to get comfortable so that we could take a nap."
Cook grinned lazily and replied, "Well, why didn't you say so?"
He scooted forward, allowing David to shift in behind him and stretch out along the couch. David wrapped his arms around Cook's middle and pulled him back against his own body. He kissed Cook's temple and whispered, "Go back to sleep." Cook nodded, laying his arms over David's and snuggling into him. David closed his eyes and drifted off with a smile.
* * * * *
David was having a dream.
A really, really good dream.
The first thing that he noticed in the dream was that he was breathing really heavily. The second was that he was naked. The rest, really, was inconsequential at that point.
Cook was there and he kept saying things to David in this breathless voice and David's hips were pumping and his fingers were curling around a scrap of fabric and he heard Cook say, "Yeah, ohhhh yeahhh," and he bit down on his own lip and-
David's eyes opened, the dream fading, and he suddenly realized that it hadn't been a dream at all. Or, at least, most of it hadn't.
He looked down and saw that he was still lying on the leather sofa in Cook's den and Cook was still curled up in front of him. But Cook was definitely not asleep. David froze.
"Uhhh," Cook groaned in discontent. "Don't stop, Archie."
David had woken up to find that he'd actually been pushing his hips, among other things, against Cook's ass. He'd been fisting his hand in the fabric of Cook's sweatpants and the words he'd heard Cook saying in the dream were actually being spoken by the older man.
Cook, for his part, didn't seem to mind being a part of David's dream. He'd apparently woken up to the sensation of David grinding himself against his backside and had, well, taken matters into his own hands. Still looking down, David couldn't pull his eyes away from the sight of Cook's hand disappearing beneath the elastic of his own waistband, the flurry of motion beneath more than a little evident.
"Archie, ahhh," Cook hissed and reared back, pushing himself against the hardness that still pulsed between David's thighs. The younger man groaned loudly, breaking himself from his trance and beginning once again to piston his hips into Cook's.
David wrapped himself around the man lying in front of him, resting his head against Cook's arm to watch the motions of his hands beneath the thin, gray cotton. Cook cut his eyes to David's face and, seeing the rapt expression on the younger man's face, reached up and used his free hand to move the pants aside, giving David a clear view of the activity taking place.
"Uhhhh," David groaned out as he took in the sight, his hips moving faster, harder against Cook.
"Watch me, baby," Cook whispered, the words mingling with the grunts of pleasure coming from both men. "You like that, Arch?" he asked seductively.
David, not very experienced in the arena of talking dirty, simply flicked his tongue out to wet his lips and nodded mutely, his eyes never leaving Cook's hand wrapped around his own cock. Cook continued meeting his thrusts and David felt his own release fast approaching.
"Archie," Cook managed on a ragged breath, "Touch me." David responded immediately, his hand moving forward to cover Cook's own, his fingers tightening as he found Cook's rhythm. It was a short step from there to the end, Cook letting go first and David following shortly behind. David buried his face against Cook's neck as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
When Cook was finally able to catch his breath, he said hoarsely, "Damn, that was hot." He reached back to cup David's neck as he said the words.
"I . . . I was having a dream," David said dumbly, not sure what explanation he needed to offer to the other man for what had just taken place.
Cook glanced back at the man curled up behind him and grinned. "Yeah, must have been some dream."
David shook his head and replied, "I don't remember. I just woke up and I was . . . and you were . . . and I, um . . ."
"Archie," Cook said to stop the words falling jumbled from the younger man's mouth. "You can feel free to hump me in your sleep any time you want." David's face turned beet red and he buried it amongst the damp strands of Cook's hair. Cook chuckled and David felt the rumble course through his own body. "I love that this embarrasses you," he admitted.
David lifted his head and asked, "What? Why?"
Cook shrugged, saying, "I'm not sure. It's just so sexy that you can be so . . . I dunno, uninhibited sometimes. Then, a second later, you're blushing like crazy." He turned his body until he was lying on his back, then cradled David's chin in his hand as he said softly, "It turns me on."
David rolled his eyes a little and replied, "Everything turns you on."
Cook's eyebrows twitched as he corrected, "Everything to do with you, baby." He smirked, catching David by the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss.
When they broke apart, David said, "So, um, I'm thinking shower."
Cook grinned again and replied, "See, it's like you read my mind."
* * * * *
The shower had, not surprisingly, turned into round two. Or, David thought, round five, was it? He was beginning to think this whole vacation thing just might end up killing them both.
David was standing in the laundry room, loading the previous night's sheets into the machine. "Hey, I told you not to worry about those," Cook said as he sauntered over from the kitchen, leaning his body against the doorframe as he watched David precisely measuring out the detergent.
"I don't mind," David replied. "Do you have fabric softener?" He opened the cabinet overhead and pulled down a bottle that turned out to be dishwashing detergent. Looking slightly perplexed, he put the bottle back and continued his search.
"Who knows?" Cook replied. "Most of that stuff has been up there for ages. My mom brought it over when I bought the house. I just throw in some detergent and hope for the best."
David rolled his eyes as he pushed the cabinet door closed, surrendering his search since it was unlikely to yield results. "I need to shop for you," David told him absently.
"Yeah?" Cook questioned. The idea seemed to please him.
David looked at him skeptically, wondering at the look that Cook suddenly had on his face. "What?"
Cook shook his head, saying, "Nothing . . . just, you like taking care of me." He grinned at David and David felt his face flush.
"Well . . . so? I mean, it's not like I don't sleep on the sheets, too. And, you know, we both messed them up, so . . . Besides! What's wrong with me wanting to take care of you, anyway?" he countered and he couldn't figure out why he was getting defensive, but this felt . . . weird. Like a conversation where one thing was being said and quite another was actually being discussed and David hated that. He'd never been good with subtext.
Cook just smiled, though, his eyes lighting with the effort. "It's nice," was his only reply.
David looked at his companion for another second, then just sighed, looking back to the washing machine and turning it on.
Cook stepped forward, putting his arms around the younger man and pulling him against his chest. He rested his chin on David's shoulder and whispered, "I like it, Arch. I like being taken care of." David smiled then, wrapping his arms over Cook's around his middle and thought that maybe he'd figured out the subtext after all.
* * * * *
"Five letter word for 'burdened'?" Cook asked as he chewed absently on the end of his pen. He and David were sitting in the living room on the L-shaped sofa; Cook leaning into the corner and David tucked against him. The stereo provided a backdrop of music as Cook worked on a crossword puzzle and David, who was sitting there under the pretense of helping, drifted off into his own thoughts. When he failed to answer Cook's query, the older man nudged David lightly. "Hey, Earth to Archie? You still with me, man?"
"Hmm?" David murmured as he refocused on Cook's voice. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Adam Duritz was singing about perfect blue buildings and David felt his own thoughts conforming to the haunting melody. Help me stay awake, I'm falling
Cook set his crossword book aside, forgotten, and smoothed the younger man's hair back from his forehead, saying softly, "What's wrong?"
David shook his head against Cook's shoulder. "Nothing, I'm fine."
I'm trying to get myself away from myself and me
Cook took David's hand in his own and held it up to lace their fingers together. He and Cook both stared at the entwined digits as Cook said, "You're the worst liar I've ever met."
David sighed and said, "It's really nothing. I just . . . I talked to my mom last night, before I came over, and I guess I was just thinking about that."
"Oh yeah?" Cook replied. "What did you talk about?"
"Just Jazzy's birthday coming up and how she wants to have a big party for her and she wants me to tell her when I can make it back for it," David said. His younger sister would be sixteen in two weeks and David hadn't seen her since Christmas. Thinking about her, the little girl who trailed after him and thought he could do no wrong, made him happy and sad all at once.
"Well, that doesn't sound bad. You've been saying how much you miss your brother and sisters, how you never get to see them," Cook pointed out. "You should go."
"Yeah, I know . . ." David responded. "It's just . . ." He didn't finish, not wanting to voice what really bothered him about the prospect of returning to Utah and he knew that he didn't really have to. He and Cook had talked about all of this before.
"You have to tell them sometime, David," he said softly, squeezing the younger man just a little tighter in reassurance.
"I know but . . . how? I mean, what do I say? And what are they going to say?" His voice grew smaller as he said, "I don't want them to hate me."
"Archie, baby," Cook crooned as he turned the man in his arms slightly so that their eyes met. "How could they hate you?" He bent to kiss David's lips sweetly. "They love you," Cook told him and his voice sounded so sure, a lot more sure than David was feeling. "They'll love you no matter what."
David let his eyes slide shut, letting the music fill the air again for a moment. He knew that telling his family that he was gay wasn't going to be easy. They had expectations of him and dreams for his future and telling them this would ruin all of that. His mother would be heartbroken. And his father . . . David wasn't sure what he would be. But, for the first time in his life, David was terrified that he was about to do something that could make them stop loving him. As much as Cook said otherwise, David still held tight to that fear. He didn't know how he'd handle it if that happened.
Opening his eyes to meet Cook's, David asked, "What did your parents say when you told them?"
"Well, my mom wasn't shocked. I think she already knew. I was twenty years old by the time I told her that I liked guys and girls and she just said that it was okay. I was still her baby and she loved me. My step-dad, he wasn't exactly comfortable discussing it, but he said that it didn't have anything to do with how he felt about me. That was pretty much it. Andrew told our dad and he never said anything to me about it, but I've never hidden it from him either." Cook shrugged, adding, "We're not that close so I guess it didn't matter as much."
"But my parents aren't like yours," David reasoned. "They aren't going to understand."
Cook ran his finger along David's jaw line and said, "If they love you, they will love you no matter what."
David chewed at the inside of his bottom lip, looking unconvinced. Cook rested his forehead against David's and added, "I'd come with you, if you wanted me to." David smiled at that, but didn't respond. They both knew that it would probably be a trip best taken alone for David, but the fact that Cook was willing to accompany him and put himself in the line of fire, the fact that he always wanted to protect David from being hurt, it meant everything.
The song that had been playing ended and flowed into the next and the two men sat twined together on the big couch, heads bent towards one another as they breathed in time. "I'll always be your family," Cook promised in a whisper. "I know it's not enough to make this easy, but I'd do anything in the world for you, you know that, don't you?"
David nodded, his throat closing around a large lump. He kissed Cook then, a lingering press of lips that served as his reply. Then David laid his head on Cook's shoulder and the older man wrapped him tightly against him. Later, when Cook carried him into the bedroom, David barely stirred in his arms.
* * * * *
Part Three
Author:courts
Email: css576@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
See part one for additonal headers and such.
It was nearly noon by the time that David woke up for the second time that day. He was lying on his stomach, Cook pressed warm against his bare back. He could feel Cook's lips on his neck, kissing him back to consciousness. "Wake up, sleepyhead," his voice purred in David's ear.
"Mmm," David groaned. "Don't you sleep?"
"And waste all this quality time we have together? Not a chance, sweet cheeks," he said, reaching down to rub David's ass for emphasis.
David grinned, turning onto his side and looking back over his shoulder at Cook. "I don't think I can go again yet," he confessed. Three times in one morning was pushing it, even for a 22-year-old.
"That's okay, I was actually thinking about breakfast," Cook admitted as he bent to kiss his partner's shoulder. "You hungry?"
David shrugged. "I could eat."
Cook nodded, turning to get out of bed and walk towards the bathroom. Over his shoulder he called back, "I'll make omelets." David didn't respond; he was too busy watching Cook's bare backside as he walked away. "Stop ogling me, Archuleta," the older man teased, not even needing to turn around to know what was going on. The younger man blushed and giggled, before falling onto his back to wait his turn for the bathroom.
* * * * *
One thing that David could say for Cook; he made a mean omelet. It was one of his few culinary talents, aside from spaghetti and peanut butter cookies, but he had perfected it nonetheless. David finished his last bite washing it down with a gulp of the orange juice that Cook bought because he knew that David didn't drink coffee, and wiped his mouth with a paper towel. "Thanks, that was awesome," he said.
"We have to keep our strength up," Cook told him with a wink.
"At the rate we're going, you should probably buy more eggs," David kidded. Cook cocked an eyebrow and David quickly added, "Not that I'm complaining." His lips curved into the easy smile that he always felt like he wore around Cook. Sometimes he just couldn't help it. Just being near Cook made him feel giddy.
Cook rose from the table and grabbed both of their plates, depositing them in the sink along with the skillet he'd cooked in. "How about a movie?" he asked as he returned to the table and sat across from David.
"I thought we were spending the rest of the day 'locked away together from the cold cruel world' as you so eloquently put it," David teased.
"Duh, I meant a movie *here*," Cook said as he rolled his eyes and grinned at David's repetition of his own proclamation. "I have all the X-Men on DVD," he offered as his eyes glittered with mischief. "I know how you feel about Wolverine," he said with a wink.
David smirked and replied, "I like the action."
"Yeah," Cook said with a roll of his eyes. "That's what it is." He chuckled, holding his palms up in surrender. "Whatever you say, Arch. I just know that the last time we saw 'The Last Stand' I remember you being very . . . how should I put this? Let's go with *enthusiastic*."
"I don't remember hearing you complain," David pointed out and Cook quickly shook his head.
"Nope, no complaints here," Cook smiled. "So, movie?"
"Yeah, okay," David agreed. He finished his juice and went to put his glass in the sink, then followed Cook downstairs to the den. Cook's house wasn't huge but, for southern California, it was a pretty decent size. It was in the Hollywood Hills, sheltered by trees and looking down over the twinkling lights of the busy city below. There was a daylight basement with a den where Cook kept his big flat panel television.
David sank onto the soft, buttery leather of Cook's oversized sofa and watched as Cook rooted through a cabinet full of DVDs, coming up with two choices. He held up the first and second X-Men movies and David shrugged. "You pick," he told Cook. Cook chose the first and put it into the player, then plopped down on the sofa beside David.
By the time they were halfway through the movie, David was propped in one corner of the sofa with Cook's head lying on his thighs. David's fingers raked through Cook's hair absently as he watched the screen. Cook had one hand on David's knee and was rubbing slow circles with his fingertips. David smiled, loving that they couldn't stop touching each other even for the duration of one movie.
When the movie ended, David looked down again to find that Cook was asleep in his lap. He thought about waking him, then decided that a nap might be a good idea so, instead, he shifted his position to try and put his legs up on the couch without disturbing his partner. This proved to be more difficult that he had imagined and David felt Cook begin to stir.
"What're you doing? Movie over?" Cook asked with a yawn as he lifted his head and squinted up at David.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," David said. "I was trying to get comfortable so that we could take a nap."
Cook grinned lazily and replied, "Well, why didn't you say so?"
He scooted forward, allowing David to shift in behind him and stretch out along the couch. David wrapped his arms around Cook's middle and pulled him back against his own body. He kissed Cook's temple and whispered, "Go back to sleep." Cook nodded, laying his arms over David's and snuggling into him. David closed his eyes and drifted off with a smile.
* * * * *
David was having a dream.
A really, really good dream.
The first thing that he noticed in the dream was that he was breathing really heavily. The second was that he was naked. The rest, really, was inconsequential at that point.
Cook was there and he kept saying things to David in this breathless voice and David's hips were pumping and his fingers were curling around a scrap of fabric and he heard Cook say, "Yeah, ohhhh yeahhh," and he bit down on his own lip and-
David's eyes opened, the dream fading, and he suddenly realized that it hadn't been a dream at all. Or, at least, most of it hadn't.
He looked down and saw that he was still lying on the leather sofa in Cook's den and Cook was still curled up in front of him. But Cook was definitely not asleep. David froze.
"Uhhh," Cook groaned in discontent. "Don't stop, Archie."
David had woken up to find that he'd actually been pushing his hips, among other things, against Cook's ass. He'd been fisting his hand in the fabric of Cook's sweatpants and the words he'd heard Cook saying in the dream were actually being spoken by the older man.
Cook, for his part, didn't seem to mind being a part of David's dream. He'd apparently woken up to the sensation of David grinding himself against his backside and had, well, taken matters into his own hands. Still looking down, David couldn't pull his eyes away from the sight of Cook's hand disappearing beneath the elastic of his own waistband, the flurry of motion beneath more than a little evident.
"Archie, ahhh," Cook hissed and reared back, pushing himself against the hardness that still pulsed between David's thighs. The younger man groaned loudly, breaking himself from his trance and beginning once again to piston his hips into Cook's.
David wrapped himself around the man lying in front of him, resting his head against Cook's arm to watch the motions of his hands beneath the thin, gray cotton. Cook cut his eyes to David's face and, seeing the rapt expression on the younger man's face, reached up and used his free hand to move the pants aside, giving David a clear view of the activity taking place.
"Uhhhh," David groaned out as he took in the sight, his hips moving faster, harder against Cook.
"Watch me, baby," Cook whispered, the words mingling with the grunts of pleasure coming from both men. "You like that, Arch?" he asked seductively.
David, not very experienced in the arena of talking dirty, simply flicked his tongue out to wet his lips and nodded mutely, his eyes never leaving Cook's hand wrapped around his own cock. Cook continued meeting his thrusts and David felt his own release fast approaching.
"Archie," Cook managed on a ragged breath, "Touch me." David responded immediately, his hand moving forward to cover Cook's own, his fingers tightening as he found Cook's rhythm. It was a short step from there to the end, Cook letting go first and David following shortly behind. David buried his face against Cook's neck as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
When Cook was finally able to catch his breath, he said hoarsely, "Damn, that was hot." He reached back to cup David's neck as he said the words.
"I . . . I was having a dream," David said dumbly, not sure what explanation he needed to offer to the other man for what had just taken place.
Cook glanced back at the man curled up behind him and grinned. "Yeah, must have been some dream."
David shook his head and replied, "I don't remember. I just woke up and I was . . . and you were . . . and I, um . . ."
"Archie," Cook said to stop the words falling jumbled from the younger man's mouth. "You can feel free to hump me in your sleep any time you want." David's face turned beet red and he buried it amongst the damp strands of Cook's hair. Cook chuckled and David felt the rumble course through his own body. "I love that this embarrasses you," he admitted.
David lifted his head and asked, "What? Why?"
Cook shrugged, saying, "I'm not sure. It's just so sexy that you can be so . . . I dunno, uninhibited sometimes. Then, a second later, you're blushing like crazy." He turned his body until he was lying on his back, then cradled David's chin in his hand as he said softly, "It turns me on."
David rolled his eyes a little and replied, "Everything turns you on."
Cook's eyebrows twitched as he corrected, "Everything to do with you, baby." He smirked, catching David by the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss.
When they broke apart, David said, "So, um, I'm thinking shower."
Cook grinned again and replied, "See, it's like you read my mind."
* * * * *
The shower had, not surprisingly, turned into round two. Or, David thought, round five, was it? He was beginning to think this whole vacation thing just might end up killing them both.
David was standing in the laundry room, loading the previous night's sheets into the machine. "Hey, I told you not to worry about those," Cook said as he sauntered over from the kitchen, leaning his body against the doorframe as he watched David precisely measuring out the detergent.
"I don't mind," David replied. "Do you have fabric softener?" He opened the cabinet overhead and pulled down a bottle that turned out to be dishwashing detergent. Looking slightly perplexed, he put the bottle back and continued his search.
"Who knows?" Cook replied. "Most of that stuff has been up there for ages. My mom brought it over when I bought the house. I just throw in some detergent and hope for the best."
David rolled his eyes as he pushed the cabinet door closed, surrendering his search since it was unlikely to yield results. "I need to shop for you," David told him absently.
"Yeah?" Cook questioned. The idea seemed to please him.
David looked at him skeptically, wondering at the look that Cook suddenly had on his face. "What?"
Cook shook his head, saying, "Nothing . . . just, you like taking care of me." He grinned at David and David felt his face flush.
"Well . . . so? I mean, it's not like I don't sleep on the sheets, too. And, you know, we both messed them up, so . . . Besides! What's wrong with me wanting to take care of you, anyway?" he countered and he couldn't figure out why he was getting defensive, but this felt . . . weird. Like a conversation where one thing was being said and quite another was actually being discussed and David hated that. He'd never been good with subtext.
Cook just smiled, though, his eyes lighting with the effort. "It's nice," was his only reply.
David looked at his companion for another second, then just sighed, looking back to the washing machine and turning it on.
Cook stepped forward, putting his arms around the younger man and pulling him against his chest. He rested his chin on David's shoulder and whispered, "I like it, Arch. I like being taken care of." David smiled then, wrapping his arms over Cook's around his middle and thought that maybe he'd figured out the subtext after all.
* * * * *
"Five letter word for 'burdened'?" Cook asked as he chewed absently on the end of his pen. He and David were sitting in the living room on the L-shaped sofa; Cook leaning into the corner and David tucked against him. The stereo provided a backdrop of music as Cook worked on a crossword puzzle and David, who was sitting there under the pretense of helping, drifted off into his own thoughts. When he failed to answer Cook's query, the older man nudged David lightly. "Hey, Earth to Archie? You still with me, man?"
"Hmm?" David murmured as he refocused on Cook's voice. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Adam Duritz was singing about perfect blue buildings and David felt his own thoughts conforming to the haunting melody. Help me stay awake, I'm falling
Cook set his crossword book aside, forgotten, and smoothed the younger man's hair back from his forehead, saying softly, "What's wrong?"
David shook his head against Cook's shoulder. "Nothing, I'm fine."
I'm trying to get myself away from myself and me
Cook took David's hand in his own and held it up to lace their fingers together. He and Cook both stared at the entwined digits as Cook said, "You're the worst liar I've ever met."
David sighed and said, "It's really nothing. I just . . . I talked to my mom last night, before I came over, and I guess I was just thinking about that."
"Oh yeah?" Cook replied. "What did you talk about?"
"Just Jazzy's birthday coming up and how she wants to have a big party for her and she wants me to tell her when I can make it back for it," David said. His younger sister would be sixteen in two weeks and David hadn't seen her since Christmas. Thinking about her, the little girl who trailed after him and thought he could do no wrong, made him happy and sad all at once.
"Well, that doesn't sound bad. You've been saying how much you miss your brother and sisters, how you never get to see them," Cook pointed out. "You should go."
"Yeah, I know . . ." David responded. "It's just . . ." He didn't finish, not wanting to voice what really bothered him about the prospect of returning to Utah and he knew that he didn't really have to. He and Cook had talked about all of this before.
"You have to tell them sometime, David," he said softly, squeezing the younger man just a little tighter in reassurance.
"I know but . . . how? I mean, what do I say? And what are they going to say?" His voice grew smaller as he said, "I don't want them to hate me."
"Archie, baby," Cook crooned as he turned the man in his arms slightly so that their eyes met. "How could they hate you?" He bent to kiss David's lips sweetly. "They love you," Cook told him and his voice sounded so sure, a lot more sure than David was feeling. "They'll love you no matter what."
David let his eyes slide shut, letting the music fill the air again for a moment. He knew that telling his family that he was gay wasn't going to be easy. They had expectations of him and dreams for his future and telling them this would ruin all of that. His mother would be heartbroken. And his father . . . David wasn't sure what he would be. But, for the first time in his life, David was terrified that he was about to do something that could make them stop loving him. As much as Cook said otherwise, David still held tight to that fear. He didn't know how he'd handle it if that happened.
Opening his eyes to meet Cook's, David asked, "What did your parents say when you told them?"
"Well, my mom wasn't shocked. I think she already knew. I was twenty years old by the time I told her that I liked guys and girls and she just said that it was okay. I was still her baby and she loved me. My step-dad, he wasn't exactly comfortable discussing it, but he said that it didn't have anything to do with how he felt about me. That was pretty much it. Andrew told our dad and he never said anything to me about it, but I've never hidden it from him either." Cook shrugged, adding, "We're not that close so I guess it didn't matter as much."
"But my parents aren't like yours," David reasoned. "They aren't going to understand."
Cook ran his finger along David's jaw line and said, "If they love you, they will love you no matter what."
David chewed at the inside of his bottom lip, looking unconvinced. Cook rested his forehead against David's and added, "I'd come with you, if you wanted me to." David smiled at that, but didn't respond. They both knew that it would probably be a trip best taken alone for David, but the fact that Cook was willing to accompany him and put himself in the line of fire, the fact that he always wanted to protect David from being hurt, it meant everything.
The song that had been playing ended and flowed into the next and the two men sat twined together on the big couch, heads bent towards one another as they breathed in time. "I'll always be your family," Cook promised in a whisper. "I know it's not enough to make this easy, but I'd do anything in the world for you, you know that, don't you?"
David nodded, his throat closing around a large lump. He kissed Cook then, a lingering press of lips that served as his reply. Then David laid his head on Cook's shoulder and the older man wrapped him tightly against him. Later, when Cook carried him into the bedroom, David barely stirred in his arms.
* * * * *
Part Three