Save Me Chapter 6
Title: Save Me
Pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Genre: AU
Warning(s): Angst for Cook.
Disclaimer: The real-life characters do not belong to me, and the story is fictional.
Summary: David Archuleta is desperate, but when he meets and gets to know David Cook, he must decide if their unconventional relationship is merely a web of lies or his only hope to untangle a complicated knot in his life.
Author's Notes: A new male character is introduced in this chapter. He is a real-life celebrity and not an OMC.
6
Cook opens his eyes the next morning to the soft clinking of plates and the sound of the sink running in the kitchen. Despite having slept on a couch rather than his ridiculously large king size bed at home, he feels more rested than he’d been in a long time. He swings his legs off the cushion and pulls himself into a sitting position.
“Good morning.” Cook turns at the voice and sees David in the doorway. There’s a laundry basket under his arm, and his fingers grip the edge a little bit tighter and his face flushes when Cook grins back.
“Hey. Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. About last night -”
“Don’t mention it.”
David lowers his eyelashes, a delicate smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As for Cook, he has been awake for fewer than five minutes but he’s captivated once more at the sight of the boy, whose silken dark hair and porcelain skin are like enigma and innocence put together. It hits him yet again that he’s a goner.
“Amber should be back from Brooke’s any minute,” David says. “Joining us for breakfast?”
Breakfast. Even the word sounds foreign to Cook now. It was bound to happen with his habit of working late and rushing back to the office in the morning for the early meetings, with perhaps a coffee on the way. In fact, the only relationship that has withstood his promotions and added responsibilities is the one between him and Starbucks.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a proper breakfast,” Cook muses aloud. “Sure, I’d love to stay.”
He can swear that David lets out a sigh of relief at his reply, subtle but distinct. “Great. I just need to put this” - he nods toward the basket he’s holding - “in my room and I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
Listening to David’s footsteps fade down the hallway, Cook stands up and stretches leisurely before folding up the blanket as neatly as he can. He finds it hilarious because he doesn’t think he’s ever concentrated this hard on matching the edges of a blanket. His thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell, which he answers to let Brooke and Amber into the apartment.
From the way Amber bounds inside, one would never guess that she’d been sick ten hours ago. She jumps into David’s arms when he appears in the foyer, and Cook can’t help but notice just how fondly he gazes down at his sister. David looks up at Brooke, gratitude filling his brown eyes, but she waves her hand and interrupts before he can actually thank her. She bends forward, hands on her knees, and says, “You take care of yourself, okay, Amber?”
Amber releases her arms from around David’s waist long enough to give Brooke a hug, murmuring a quiet “love you, Brooke” into the woman’s knit sweater.
“Love you too, sweetie.”
Reluctantly, Brooke turns to leave so she and Dave can go out to breakfast on time, and David reaches for the backpack she had left by the door. He tells Cook and Amber that breakfast is in the kitchen before heading toward Amber’s room with her belongings.
“So are you feeling better, kiddo?”
“Much better. Did you sleep over yesterday?”
Cook laughs. “Something like that.”
“How did you meet David anyway?” she asks, handing him one of the three plates on the island covered with eggs, buttered toast and ham. She grabs a piece of bread for herself and takes a bite, not really paying attention to Cook practically choking on the orange juice.
“Uh. Co-workers, we are... um, co-workers.”
“Okay, Yoda.” Amber eyes him curiously before picking up her fork. With that, the awkwardness is over, but Cook wonders if it’s normal for an eleven-year-old to have such a penetrating and guilt-inducing gaze. Then again, he is in kind of an unconventional situation, so. Fortunately, David chooses that time to walk in and change the subject.
“Take a spoonful of this after you’re done,” he reminds Amber as he sets the cold medication on the spot next to her plate. His voice is lower and gentle but doesn’t really leave room for argument, and even though Amber makes a face at the sickly sweet cherry flavored medicine, she doesn’t complain.
“Listen to your brother,” Cook suggests, and Amber sticks her tongue out at him.
+
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
+
“You two mind watching the place for a bit?” David calls from the doorway of the living room where Cook and Amber are lounging on the sofa watching cartoons. He stifles a giggle when he takes in the sight - Amber with her back against the armrest of the couch with the bottom half of her legs draped over Cook’s lap, and Cook appearing far too entertained for a grown man tuning into SpongeBob.
“Where are you going?” Amber asks over her shoulder, after which Cook adds, “You’re not staying for the cartoons?”
The boy grins. “Yeah, there’s actually nothing to eat, and it’ll be noon in a bit. Unless you want to choose between actual lunch and, um, animated Krabby Patties from Krusty Krab. I’m fine with that too.”
Cook does a face palm and pretends to be devastated. Even Amber chimes in and pats him on the back. David just tosses a throw pillow in their general direction and heads out the door.
+
The store is bustling with Saturday afternoon shoppers, and David snakes his way through the customers, eyeing the shelves for items on his mental checklist. He makes his rounds from the dairy section to the deli and follows the sign for baking supplies to find hot chocolate mix for Amber.
Moments later, David places the mix in the cart and realizes that he’s forgotten to pick up a box of cereal. He spins around to head back down the aisle, but instead knocks into someone behind him. David wobbles a bit and lets the guy reach out and steady him, warm hands on the bare skin not covered by his t-shirt.
“... David?”
Shocked that a stranger would know his name, David tilts his head up, and his eyes widen when he sees the person standing there. The piercing blue eyes, the casually tousled hair and the stubble on his chin. A navy polo and jeans have replaced the striped tie and blazer of his uniform, but David can still instantly recognize the soft scent of his aftershave.
“Chace?” he breathes.
+
“Why do you get fifteen points for egg?”
“Because I put the letters on a ‘triple word’,” Amber replies triumphantly, hastily marking down fifteen tallies under her column on the score chart.
Cook studies his letters and the board, random words going through his mind. He has piles of completed crossword puzzle books at home. Scrabble should be a piece of cake, really.
“Ah.” He puts down three tiles and beams at Amber. “I think with the ‘double word’ and ‘triple letter’ that makes eighteen.”
“Trope? What does that mean?”
The Merriam and Webster hiding out inside his brain kick in. “A trope is the figurative usage of a word or expression.”
“Are you positive you didn’t just add a T in front of rope?”
“I’m sure.”
She feigns annoyance and jots down his points. “You’re a nerd.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Amber is busy contemplating her next move when the phone makes them both jump. She picks up the receiver from its cradle on the side table. Cook figures it’s David, and Amber just responds with “uh huh” and “okay” and finally a “love you” before putting the phone back.
“David says he’s running late,” she explains to Cook as if she’d heard his unspoken question.
“Traffic?”
“Nah. He said he ran into a friend?” Nonchalantly, Amber jumps back into the game whereas Cook can’t ignore the nervous knot tightening in his stomach. He tells himself that he’s being stupidly oversensitive and focuses back on the round before Amber notices.
+
Pocketing his cell phone, David glances up to find Chace walking back to their table from the pick-up counter where the barista with the green apron is calling out ready orders.
“Chai, right?” He slips the cup into a thermal sleeve and hands it to David, who takes it with a shy “thanks.”
When they’re both sitting down, David with his tea and Chace with his latte, Chace smiles handsomely and admits, “Not that I’m complaining but, I wasn’t expecting to run into you today.”
David blushes a little and ducks his head. “Me either. It’s been awhile, huh?”
“Almost two years...” Chace stares down at his drink, like its plastic lid is the most fascinating thing in the world, and then he looks back up at David. “How’ve you been?”
“Oh gosh.” David laughs nervously. “Where to start.”
He shrugs. “I have time.”
David opens his mouth to answer, but closes it, images of Amber and Cook flashing in his mind. “You know...” He meets Chace’s eyes, intense and sincere, and somehow the goodbye gets cast aside and he asks instead, “I should get home, but maybe you could, um...”
“Let’s get out of here,” Chace finishes for him.
+
Amber throws up her hands proudly. “R-A-Z-O-R on a ‘double word’ and a ‘double letter’ makes forty-seven.”
“I concede. You kick my butt.”
The girl lets out a bubbly giggle and extends her arm to ruffle Cook’s hair playfully, making it stick out in all different angles. The door clicks open when Amber busily attempts to undo the new style, and she and Cook both turn toward the sound. David comes in first, and when a second person follows, Cook stiffens while Amber’s face lights up.
“Chace!” She bolts toward him and he scoops her up into a hug that lifts her from the floor. Her next sentence is muffled but it sounds like “where have you been, you loser.”
He laughs into her dark curls. “I missed you too, Ambs.”
Meanwhile, David catches Cook watching Amber and Chace, and he introduces Chace to Cook as soon as Amber’s feet touch the hardwood again. He shifts his weight anxiously from one side of his body to another as the two eye each other before shaking hands.
“We should go unload these groceries,” Chace says, picking up a large paper bag that he’d set down.
David’s lips move in response but Cook doesn’t hear a thing; he’s too occupied with the details of David’s expression. Chace takes another bag from David’s arms, and when Cook sees David level his gaze with the guy, his heart skips a beat - and not in the good way. There’s trust and regret in David’s eyes yet he’s smiling as if he can’t help it. To Cook it appears, if not a lot like, love, and it also feels like he himself is shattering into a million pieces simultaneously.
I've wanted to throw in Chace into a Cookleta fic for awhile. :)
Pairing(s): David Cook/David Archuleta
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Genre: AU
Warning(s): Angst for Cook.
Disclaimer: The real-life characters do not belong to me, and the story is fictional.
Summary: David Archuleta is desperate, but when he meets and gets to know David Cook, he must decide if their unconventional relationship is merely a web of lies or his only hope to untangle a complicated knot in his life.
Author's Notes: A new male character is introduced in this chapter. He is a real-life celebrity and not an OMC.
6
Cook opens his eyes the next morning to the soft clinking of plates and the sound of the sink running in the kitchen. Despite having slept on a couch rather than his ridiculously large king size bed at home, he feels more rested than he’d been in a long time. He swings his legs off the cushion and pulls himself into a sitting position.
“Good morning.” Cook turns at the voice and sees David in the doorway. There’s a laundry basket under his arm, and his fingers grip the edge a little bit tighter and his face flushes when Cook grins back.
“Hey. Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. About last night -”
“Don’t mention it.”
David lowers his eyelashes, a delicate smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As for Cook, he has been awake for fewer than five minutes but he’s captivated once more at the sight of the boy, whose silken dark hair and porcelain skin are like enigma and innocence put together. It hits him yet again that he’s a goner.
“Amber should be back from Brooke’s any minute,” David says. “Joining us for breakfast?”
Breakfast. Even the word sounds foreign to Cook now. It was bound to happen with his habit of working late and rushing back to the office in the morning for the early meetings, with perhaps a coffee on the way. In fact, the only relationship that has withstood his promotions and added responsibilities is the one between him and Starbucks.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a proper breakfast,” Cook muses aloud. “Sure, I’d love to stay.”
He can swear that David lets out a sigh of relief at his reply, subtle but distinct. “Great. I just need to put this” - he nods toward the basket he’s holding - “in my room and I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
Listening to David’s footsteps fade down the hallway, Cook stands up and stretches leisurely before folding up the blanket as neatly as he can. He finds it hilarious because he doesn’t think he’s ever concentrated this hard on matching the edges of a blanket. His thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell, which he answers to let Brooke and Amber into the apartment.
From the way Amber bounds inside, one would never guess that she’d been sick ten hours ago. She jumps into David’s arms when he appears in the foyer, and Cook can’t help but notice just how fondly he gazes down at his sister. David looks up at Brooke, gratitude filling his brown eyes, but she waves her hand and interrupts before he can actually thank her. She bends forward, hands on her knees, and says, “You take care of yourself, okay, Amber?”
Amber releases her arms from around David’s waist long enough to give Brooke a hug, murmuring a quiet “love you, Brooke” into the woman’s knit sweater.
“Love you too, sweetie.”
Reluctantly, Brooke turns to leave so she and Dave can go out to breakfast on time, and David reaches for the backpack she had left by the door. He tells Cook and Amber that breakfast is in the kitchen before heading toward Amber’s room with her belongings.
“So are you feeling better, kiddo?”
“Much better. Did you sleep over yesterday?”
Cook laughs. “Something like that.”
“How did you meet David anyway?” she asks, handing him one of the three plates on the island covered with eggs, buttered toast and ham. She grabs a piece of bread for herself and takes a bite, not really paying attention to Cook practically choking on the orange juice.
“Uh. Co-workers, we are... um, co-workers.”
“Okay, Yoda.” Amber eyes him curiously before picking up her fork. With that, the awkwardness is over, but Cook wonders if it’s normal for an eleven-year-old to have such a penetrating and guilt-inducing gaze. Then again, he is in kind of an unconventional situation, so. Fortunately, David chooses that time to walk in and change the subject.
“Take a spoonful of this after you’re done,” he reminds Amber as he sets the cold medication on the spot next to her plate. His voice is lower and gentle but doesn’t really leave room for argument, and even though Amber makes a face at the sickly sweet cherry flavored medicine, she doesn’t complain.
“Listen to your brother,” Cook suggests, and Amber sticks her tongue out at him.
+
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
+
“You two mind watching the place for a bit?” David calls from the doorway of the living room where Cook and Amber are lounging on the sofa watching cartoons. He stifles a giggle when he takes in the sight - Amber with her back against the armrest of the couch with the bottom half of her legs draped over Cook’s lap, and Cook appearing far too entertained for a grown man tuning into SpongeBob.
“Where are you going?” Amber asks over her shoulder, after which Cook adds, “You’re not staying for the cartoons?”
The boy grins. “Yeah, there’s actually nothing to eat, and it’ll be noon in a bit. Unless you want to choose between actual lunch and, um, animated Krabby Patties from Krusty Krab. I’m fine with that too.”
Cook does a face palm and pretends to be devastated. Even Amber chimes in and pats him on the back. David just tosses a throw pillow in their general direction and heads out the door.
+
The store is bustling with Saturday afternoon shoppers, and David snakes his way through the customers, eyeing the shelves for items on his mental checklist. He makes his rounds from the dairy section to the deli and follows the sign for baking supplies to find hot chocolate mix for Amber.
Moments later, David places the mix in the cart and realizes that he’s forgotten to pick up a box of cereal. He spins around to head back down the aisle, but instead knocks into someone behind him. David wobbles a bit and lets the guy reach out and steady him, warm hands on the bare skin not covered by his t-shirt.
“... David?”
Shocked that a stranger would know his name, David tilts his head up, and his eyes widen when he sees the person standing there. The piercing blue eyes, the casually tousled hair and the stubble on his chin. A navy polo and jeans have replaced the striped tie and blazer of his uniform, but David can still instantly recognize the soft scent of his aftershave.
“Chace?” he breathes.
+
“Why do you get fifteen points for egg?”
“Because I put the letters on a ‘triple word’,” Amber replies triumphantly, hastily marking down fifteen tallies under her column on the score chart.
Cook studies his letters and the board, random words going through his mind. He has piles of completed crossword puzzle books at home. Scrabble should be a piece of cake, really.
“Ah.” He puts down three tiles and beams at Amber. “I think with the ‘double word’ and ‘triple letter’ that makes eighteen.”
“Trope? What does that mean?”
The Merriam and Webster hiding out inside his brain kick in. “A trope is the figurative usage of a word or expression.”
“Are you positive you didn’t just add a T in front of rope?”
“I’m sure.”
She feigns annoyance and jots down his points. “You’re a nerd.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Amber is busy contemplating her next move when the phone makes them both jump. She picks up the receiver from its cradle on the side table. Cook figures it’s David, and Amber just responds with “uh huh” and “okay” and finally a “love you” before putting the phone back.
“David says he’s running late,” she explains to Cook as if she’d heard his unspoken question.
“Traffic?”
“Nah. He said he ran into a friend?” Nonchalantly, Amber jumps back into the game whereas Cook can’t ignore the nervous knot tightening in his stomach. He tells himself that he’s being stupidly oversensitive and focuses back on the round before Amber notices.
+
Pocketing his cell phone, David glances up to find Chace walking back to their table from the pick-up counter where the barista with the green apron is calling out ready orders.
“Chai, right?” He slips the cup into a thermal sleeve and hands it to David, who takes it with a shy “thanks.”
When they’re both sitting down, David with his tea and Chace with his latte, Chace smiles handsomely and admits, “Not that I’m complaining but, I wasn’t expecting to run into you today.”
David blushes a little and ducks his head. “Me either. It’s been awhile, huh?”
“Almost two years...” Chace stares down at his drink, like its plastic lid is the most fascinating thing in the world, and then he looks back up at David. “How’ve you been?”
“Oh gosh.” David laughs nervously. “Where to start.”
He shrugs. “I have time.”
David opens his mouth to answer, but closes it, images of Amber and Cook flashing in his mind. “You know...” He meets Chace’s eyes, intense and sincere, and somehow the goodbye gets cast aside and he asks instead, “I should get home, but maybe you could, um...”
“Let’s get out of here,” Chace finishes for him.
+
Amber throws up her hands proudly. “R-A-Z-O-R on a ‘double word’ and a ‘double letter’ makes forty-seven.”
“I concede. You kick my butt.”
The girl lets out a bubbly giggle and extends her arm to ruffle Cook’s hair playfully, making it stick out in all different angles. The door clicks open when Amber busily attempts to undo the new style, and she and Cook both turn toward the sound. David comes in first, and when a second person follows, Cook stiffens while Amber’s face lights up.
“Chace!” She bolts toward him and he scoops her up into a hug that lifts her from the floor. Her next sentence is muffled but it sounds like “where have you been, you loser.”
He laughs into her dark curls. “I missed you too, Ambs.”
Meanwhile, David catches Cook watching Amber and Chace, and he introduces Chace to Cook as soon as Amber’s feet touch the hardwood again. He shifts his weight anxiously from one side of his body to another as the two eye each other before shaking hands.
“We should go unload these groceries,” Chace says, picking up a large paper bag that he’d set down.
David’s lips move in response but Cook doesn’t hear a thing; he’s too occupied with the details of David’s expression. Chace takes another bag from David’s arms, and when Cook sees David level his gaze with the guy, his heart skips a beat - and not in the good way. There’s trust and regret in David’s eyes yet he’s smiling as if he can’t help it. To Cook it appears, if not a lot like, love, and it also feels like he himself is shattering into a million pieces simultaneously.
I've wanted to throw in Chace into a Cookleta fic for awhile. :)
