'Can’t Stop My Heart from Calling You' [Nick Jonas/David Archuleta] [1/3]
Title: "Can’t Stop My Heart from Calling You"
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: American Idol/Jonas Brothers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Religious angst.
Pairing: David Archuleta/Nick Jonas
Word Count: ~27,500
Dedication: Still for Makinsey.
Summary: Nick Jonas is straight. Very much so. And David Archuleta’s Mormon, so… he sort of has to be. But when the two meet backstage at the 2008 Teen Choice Awards, they lay the foundation for an enduring connection that neither of them expects.
Disclaimer: Although 95% of this is accurate in terms of who was where on a particular date, the story itself is fiction. Title is a lyric from the Jonas Brothers song "Be Mine."
Author's Notes: Written for jb_bigbang; my artist was wovenindelibly. Thanks to blueandbrady for her often insightful, occasionally patient, USUALLY CAPSLOCKED contributions as my beta. And if you’re not familiar with The Archuleta, as this was for a JB-centered challenge, this is he. David came second on season 7 of "American Idol" and has since had dalliances with many JB associates, including Benton Paul and Demi Lovato, both of whom he has toured with. In addition to attending the Teen Choice Awards together, David and JB also made appearances at the Hope for Haiti Now telethon and the Harmonies for Haiti concert. Despite this, there is not a single picture of David and Nick together, nor proof that they’ve ever properly met, much to my eternal chagrin. HOWEVER, they’ll both be performing at Arthur Ashe Kids’ Day in New York on August 28, so HERE’S HOPING, GUYS they did pose for the same group picture at the 2010 Arthur Ashe Kids' Day.
Click HERE to see wovenindelibly's accompanying fanmix:
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Nick’s never really watched American Idol. It’s hard with his schedule, and whenever he’s around a TV it gets commandeered by one of his brothers. Either Frankie needs to feed his Cartoon Network addiction (he doesn’t like watching Disney; it’s creepy, he says, seeing all his brothers’ friends onscreen like that), or Kevin insists on watching, like, The Notebook, and of course Joe gets all enthused too, which… lame. But this year they have a few weeks of downtime between the end of their headlining tour and their stint opening for Avril in Europe, and their mom is oddly charmed by this one kid on Idol - David something… Enchilada? - so she’s forever shooing Frankie away from the remote on the Tuesday and Wednesday nights they have free, making assorted cooing noises every time the kid appears.
David is allegedly seventeen, but from the quick glimpses Nick’s had, he looks younger than Nick does. He’s also apparently unable to speak in complete sentences, constantly trailing off on tangents while punctuating things like Nick’s kindergarten teacher used to do, heck-ing and dang-ing all over the place.
“You watching that David guy?” he asks his mom one night, wandering into the living room and balancing noncommittally on the edge of the couch. He’s at a loose end - his dad’s out picking up Frankie from a play date, and Kevin roped Joe into watching Titanic upstairs. As sad as it seems, Idol is looking like Nick’s best bet. He squints at the television. “Is that kid for real?”
His mother looks up. “His family’s Mormon,” she says by way of explanation.
Nick eyes the screen. David’s busy gosh-ing his way through the judges’ critique, and Randy keeps calling him dawg, which Nick’s pretty sure is a good sign even with his limited knowledge of the show. He always had this picture in his head of Mormons being kind of Aryan-looking, but David’s hair is dark and so are his sparkling eyes.
As Nick watches, David beams out at him nervously and a number appears at the bottom of the screen.
His mother turns to him. “Remember what number he is, Nicky. If you use your cell, we can vote twice!”
Nick rolls his eyes. “I haven’t even heard him sing yet.”
--
Turns out the Idol people show a clip of each contestant’s performance before the phone lines open - to refresh people’s memories, Nick supposes - and then you have to wait a whole day to get the results. Surprisingly, David’s actually really good. Like, to the point where it sort of gives Nick chills watching him stand in the middle of the stage in his little red T-shirt, belting out the lyrics to that song from Prince of Egypt. His voice is soft but powerful, and he closes his eyes a lot when he sings. He has really, really long lashes. Nick’s glad the next day when America puts him through.
--
Nick goes to the movies with his older brothers the following Tuesday, because Forgetting Sarah Marshall just came out and Joe has a weird obsession with Russell Brand. As the hapless Peter pines after Sarah while slowly, obliviously falling for Rachel (or maybe it’s the other way around - Nick hasn’t been paying that close attention), Nick lets his mind wander far from the screen.
At some point he realizes it’s Idol night and a small, insistent part of him wants to know what David sings this week. He briefly weighs up how crazy it’d be to duck out of the movie and call home to find out, but then Joe hisses at him in a British accent to “stop bloody fidgeting” so he crosses his arms over his chest and goes back to trying to focus on the movie.
--
Nick and his brothers may be home for a little while, but that doesn’t mean they’re off the hook in terms of press. They trade off doing phone interviews for radio shows and magazines (people usually want to talk to Joe the most, with Nick coming in a close second, and Kevin’s fine with that - that’s how he likes it). They don’t have conference-calling at home because their mom wants to keep the house as business-free as possible, so whenever an interviewer wants to talk to all three of them at once, Kevin dashes for the den while Nick grabs the cordless in the kitchen.
They field the usual questions about touring, the next album, and girlfriends, with some random inquiries mixed in. The random ones threw Nick for a loop when he and his brothers first got famous; for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to know if he’d prefer a girl to wear Uggs or Converse on a first date. Then he got wise to the magazines’ practice of posting his answers alongside those of other teen stars, everyone’s heads cut out and pasted next to their words in a ghoulish homage to teenyboppery. The heads were usually mounted atop stick figure drawings or else left floating, disembodied. It kind of freaked him out.
Sometimes, for kicks, an interviewer will ask them something about pop culture, like who they want to win Rock of Love or which girl they’d choose on The Bachelor, and one of them (usually Kevin, because Nick answers the music questions and Joe doesn’t have the attention span) has to patiently explain that their schedules don’t permit them to watch much TV.
So when the girl from Pop Star asks what they think of this year’s Idol, Kevin is all set to launch into his spiel when Nick cuts him off and explains that although he’s only seen a couple of shows, he’s kinda rooting for that Archuleta kid. He can tell that’s a good answer (he sees why David would appeal to the Pop Star demographic) because the girl keeps them talking for a good minute and a half about it, asking which Jonas Brothers song each of them would want David to cover, and whether they’d be interested in collaborating in the future.
Nick’s in the middle of saying he’d be totally cool with David opening for them on tour when his cell vibrates with a text from Joe in the other room saying wtf, r u MOM?!?!?!
He chooses not to respond.
He does, however, make a semi-snarky comment to the interviewer about how they should probably wrap things up because Joe’s started fiddling with his phone and the outcome of that is never good, which of course opens the floodgates to a fresh barrage of questions about what kind of phones they have and the specifics of their service plans (Nick doesn’t understand why this matters). Fortunately, their dad gets on the line - he always listens in on the office extension - and says it’s been lovely but they have places to go and people to see, and the interview is mercifully cut short.
--
The next Tuesday, Joe wants to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall again, easily coercing Kevin into accompanying him with the promise of buying Mean Girls on DVD in the near future, but Nick elects to stay home. With his mother. To watch American Idol.
He worries about his mental health sometimes.
--
It’s Neil Diamond week and David sings Sweet Caroline, which has been a Jonas family favorite for like, ever. Joe’s been lobbying to do it on the Avril tour because it’s an easy one for the audience to sing along to and he likes to jump on the ba-ba-bas.
Joe can’t sing it as well as David, though. Nick feels sort of mean thinking that, but it really is the truth. He YouTubes the performance later so he can watch it again, and honestly kind of doubts whether Neil Diamond can sing it better. He votes ten times by texting and five by phone, telling himself he can stop at any time, he just doesn’t want to.
--
Nick has a thing for people named Elvis. It’s a well-known fact that he pretty much loves everything about Costello, but he’s in awe of Presley too, his talent and charisma - not to mention the impact he had on music. So when David does Love Me Tender the following week (and also kills Ben E. King’s Stand By Me - like, completely blows every other artist’s cover out of the water), it kinda gives Nick some feelings, okay? It just does.
--
After the guy with the dreadlocks goes home that Wednesday, Nick’s shocked to realize there are only three contestants left in the competition - the tiny girl, the bartender with the husky voice that may or may not make Nick’s throat go dry sometimes, and David Archuleta.
The week after, the remaining three do this, like, homecoming thing to their respective cities of residence. David goshes his way through Utah, musing aloud about where his legions of fans could have parked. He actually cries on camera at one point because everything’s so insane and overwhelming and awesome, and it’s around that time Nick becomes uncomfortably aware of a lump in his throat that won’t budge no matter how many times he swallows.
Nick doesn’t even remember what David sings that week because he’s busy working his jaw and worrying at his lips the whole rest of the show, trying to mentally talk himself down from this. Simon, the bitchy British judge, has said some pretty mean things to David over the weeks (okay, so maybe Nick looked up some of David’s earlier performances online, no big), and the near-constant mentions of the finale are making him nervous. He just… he really wants David to go through, is all. It’d suck to get this far only to be eliminated at the final hurdle.
--
Nick doesn’t consider himself to be a malicious human being, but when the tiny girl - Syesha? - is voted off the next night, he punches the air and lets out a whoop so loud Joe comes bounding down from Kevin’s room to see what the matter is.
Of course, he pokes his head into the living room while David’s onscreen, so it’s patently obvious which show Nick’s watching and why. Joe rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, and Nick raises a hand to silence him.
“Can I just remind you what you’re watching right now?”
Joe closes his mouth and appears to wilt slightly.
“Would it be, I don’t know, Terminator?” Nick parries. “Something with James Bond? Maybe a sports movie? Oh, wait: Romeo & Juliet, the DiCaprio version.”
Silence.
“Yeah. I thought so.” His lips curve into a smirk. There’s nothing he likes better than winning an argument (except maybe winning a board game or a free-throw competition, but arguments are definitely up there). “Anything else you’d like to say, Joseph?”
Joe looks at his mom for backup, but she’s sitting on the couch with her mouth pressed into the funny crease that means she’s trying not to smile.
“Guess not,” he mumbles, turning to flounce back upstairs, and Nick smiles to himself. It’s been a good night.
--
So David and the bartender - who is also named David - get to the final, and Nick might be kind of a nervous wreck about it. They each have to do like five million songs, then a duet, and then Ryan Seacrest talks for like ever, and there are about fifty commercial breaks on top of that. Of course, Seacrest has to draw it out until the last second with his “And the winner is, David…” thing, which makes Nick want to throw a heavy object at the television.
But then it’s like time speeds up because suddenly the David with the husky voice is crying and Nick’s vaguely aware of his mom rubbing his shoulder as he thinks about how all of this should be the other way around.
--
The David who came in second still gets signed, of course, because he’s amassed quite a legion of teenage fans (probably some of Nick’s), so Nick leaves for Europe fairly secure in the knowledge that he hasn’t heard the last of David Archuleta.
He knows that for a fact, actually, because all of David’s performances have been downloaded to his iPod.
--
So they go to Europe with Avril, then come home and start the Burning Up Tour in the middle of July. Avril’s opening for them this time, which they all find pretty funny - except Avril, maybe. Nick hasn’t asked.
David’s single Crush comes out at the beginning of August, and its title makes Nick remember his solo career from way back before the Jonas Brothers took off. Crazy Kinda Crush was never a big hit for him, but he’s sure David will have better luck. He grabs a minute to listen to the song before their show in Saratoga Springs, lying on his tour bus bunk with the curtain drawn. It’s poppy and sappy and instantly stuck in his head, but he doesn’t mind that much because David sings the hell out of it just like he does with everything else. The kid has a mean falsetto, and a voice like honey. The tension leaches out of Nick’s limbs as he listens.
Nick loves touring - they all do - but he’s really happy that after tonight they’re on a mini-break, of sorts. Three whole days without a show sounds amazing when they’ve done ten in the last two weeks. They have the Teen Choice Awards in the middle of it, which Nick’s been dreading ever since he heard the term “aerial stunt” being bandied about, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.
--
They fly out to California the next day and it’s a big rush to get to Universal City in time (L.A. traffic is never pleasant), but they make it and get dropped off in the green room, where they’re told to eat some cubed cheese off toothpicks and mingle. Johnny Depp and Keira Knightley will be arriving later, but for now it’s mostly teen stars Nick already knows, which he’s grateful for because he won’t have to work the room as much.
Joe and Vanessa start chatting almost immediately, so Nick ends up sitting stiffly near them as Kevin balances on a couch arm to talk to Zac, who is perched on the coffee table in front of them. (Why he and Kevin don’t find real seats like regular people, Nick really does not know, but it leaves an empty space for him to spread out into if he wants, so whatever.) Zac’s eyes are really blue and really piercing, especially when he’s giving you his full attention, and Nick finds it quite unnerving to be situated immediately to the left of his gaze.
Because of where he’s sitting, Nick can’t see anything when an excited susurrus begins to frisson through the room, starting at the door and radiating outwards through the loose mingle of people. That means only one thing - someone big has arrived, someone impressive, and Nick cranes his neck as unobtrusively as possible because it wouldn’t do for a Jonas Brother to be caught gawking.
But he forgets about all that when he sees the top of David Cook’s half-assed fauxhawk and weirdly disproportionate forehead. The guy’s funny-looking in an endearing kind of way, but he’s not who Nick’s focus is on right now because behind David Cook, almost a whole head shorter (but probably less when he’s not slouching), is David Archuleta.
--
David looks oddly different but undeniably himself, with his porcelain-pale skin and gentle, smiling eyes. He seems so out of his depth in this situation, sort of flinchy and nervous, and he hunches in on himself as he follows his friend around the room, haltingly making eye contact with the people David Cook shakes hands with.
Miley’s all over him, which Nick shouldn’t be surprised about, but David Cook clearly has no patience for her shenanigans because he draws his arm protectively around David’s shoulders and says something to her that Nick wishes he could hear. Miley backs off fast - Nick knows from experience that her bark is worse than her bite - but David leans in and whispers to his companion anyway before disentangling himself from the other man’s grasp and looking around the room.
He locks eyes with Nick for a second before Nick tears his gaze away and pretends to be exceedingly, insanely interested in whatever it is Zac’s yammering on about. The next thing he knows, someone’s plunking down next to him on the couch. He summons a sort of bared-teeth grin to make it clear that while he is not happy about this invasion of space, he’s Nick Jonas and he is a professional, dammit, but that all dissipates when he looks to his left and finds himself gazing into a pair of weirdly sparkly hazel eyes.
“Heeey,” comes this voice, super cheerful and friendly, but with a distinct nervousness laced on top of that. “I’m David Archuleta.”
--
They actually kind of end up chatting, after Nick gets over himself enough to shake David’s hand and command his brain not to focus on the way David says his last name all upbeat like it’s music.
David is… pretty much exactly like he was on the show, actually. He stutters sometimes and waves his hands around and speaks in italics a lot, but the planes of his face are different and Nick never knew his eyes were that freaky shade of greenish brown, all flecked with gold like a cat’s. He looks a lot better in person. That sounds like every cliché in the book, but it’s just… it’s the truth.
Nick doesn’t know when he became girlier than the movies Joe and Kevin buy off the Starz network when they’re left unattended, but he really needs to stop it.
--
It doesn’t occur to Nick to congratulate David on getting to the final until a good fifteen minutes into their conversation, and as soon as he thinks of it, the words tumble out even though he’s in the middle of saying something else entirely.
David pauses for a second and his eyebrows sort of knit together while he’s processing this development, but he beams and says thank you, followed by, “You watched the show?”
“Uh… occasionally,” Nick responds drily, and Kevin shoots him a significant look from behind David’s shoulder, which he pointedly ignores. “When I could find the time, you know. Our schedules are kinda packed.”
“Time after time…” David sings softly, thoughtfully, and it’s almost like he needs a second to process Nick’s words before he replies, “Oh my gosh, tell me about it!” His eyes get all wide like he so badly wants to emphasize what he’s saying that his tone of voice alone won’t do it, and Nick thinks in a detached way that his eyes are really pretty.
“Me and Cook have done, like… like twenty TV shows together since Idol, maybe - well, perhaps not twenty, but… a lot. And then,” (he spreads his hands out in front of him and Nick looks down at them, amused) “I have all these magazine people calling to ask me, like, what my favorite shampoo is.”
He looks so endearingly flummoxed by this turn of events that Nick almost bursts out laughing, but thankfully manages to control himself.
“They do that,” he says glibly instead. “We’re objects of fascination to them.” He lets that sink in for a second before following it up with, “You’ve hit the big time, kid.”
The corners of David’s lips twitch nervously like he doesn’t quite know if that’s a good thing or not, so Nick lightly punches him in the arm on reflex and then instantly regrets it. He forgot about David’s weird space thing, how he sort of recoils when someone impinges on his personal bubble, but David just looks at him quizzically for a moment before his mouth curves into a shy smile.
If Nick melts a little at that, he’ll never admit it.
--
While he’s talking to David, Nick actually forgets they’ve got a show to do, as silly as that sounds. Luckily, he remembers pretty quickly when David Cook ambles over with this buddy of his who came in with them, all tattooed and pierced and looking impossibly out of place. Cook and the other guy both get these smirks on their faces when Cook asks “Who’s your new friend?” and David quite incomprehensibly starts blushing.
Cook’s arrival definitely jolts Nick back to earth, though. This isn’t just about fraternizing with American Idols and watching Miley hit on anything that moves. He thinks about the awards that won’t present themselves, the dumb lines he and his brothers had to memorize (with strict instructions to make them sound as unrehearsed as possible, just like always), the very thin, less than sturdy-looking wires from which they will shortly be dangling down over the audience.
Suddenly, he’s not sure hitting the big time was a good thing after all.
--
The green room empties out pretty fast after they get the call to “bring in the stars.” This glorified usher-type person actually yells that at the front of the room, and David twitches at the noise before turning to Cook and asking under his breath, “Does she mean us?”
Cook looks about as charmed by the question as Nick is, but unlike Nick, he can reach out and ruffle David’s hair without it being much of an issue. David kind of scrunches his face and leans slightly backward, but it isn’t a serious attempt to get away and Nick can tell he’s pretty comfortable with it.
“Yeah, she means us, Arch,” Cook tells him, laughing, and David bites his lip and stands.
“So, um,” he says softly, turning in Nick’s direction. “You coming?”
Nick winces. “They’re keeping us back here until our first segment. The audience will freak out more if they haven’t seen us yet, I guess. But you guys get to walk in and sit in the front rows.”
“Gosh,” David murmurs softly. “You must have a lot of fans, huh? If they’re gonna go that... crazy.” He grins and hums a few bars of the song by Gnarls Barkley, and Nick just can’t believe he even exists.
“Yeah,” Nick chuckles, then offers, “It was good to meet you.”
“You too!” David responds enthusiastically, offering him this wide, sweet smile like Nick’s just said the nicest thing in the world. Cook’s friend - the guy with all the tattoos - quirks his eyebrow at Nick in a this kid can’t be real, right? kind of way, and Nick has to hold back his grin.
--
At the end of every awards show Nick’s ever been to, the mass exodus is horrifyingly intense. Part of him is glad that the chances of seeing David again are so slim because otherwise he might talk himself into doing something ridiculous like giving David his number. Of course, the rest of him is wishing he’d done that when he had the chance.
He ducks backstage in the interim between the celebrities leaving and the regular audience members being let out, checks his levels in the bathroom and then sighs and heads for the green room in the hope that the bowls of fruit from earlier will still be set out. He knew he was feeling out of whack. It was the dumb flying-over-the-audience stunt that did it; he’d been worrying about it all evening. He’s not so good with heights.
He isn’t expecting anyone to be around so he barges through the doorway just in time to see Miley take her hand off David’s thigh and look up from the couch with wide blue eyes.
“Uh…” he says intelligently.
“Hey, Nicky,” Miley purrs, getting up like nothing’s happened. She breezes past him in a cloud of perfume. “I was just leaving.”
As soon as she’s gone, Nick glances at David, who’s sitting on the couch looking horrified. Nick smiles but represses his laughter, which he seems to be doing a lot today where David’s concerned.
“Dude, did she like, put her moves on you or something? Was it really that bad?”
David blinks. “Um… I don’t… kind of?” He fingers a patch of denim on his thigh. “I just. I have this box.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s like…” David stands up and draws a rough square in the air around his body, starting at his neck and going down past his waist. “There’s this, um… this area where I won’t touch fans or sign their bodies or anything. It’s, like. It’s respectful.”
“So Miley invaded your box?” Nick asks seriously, still trying very hard to keep a straight face.
“I mean, I’m sure she’s a nice girl and everything, but… yeah? I didn't, like, do anything, she just. Her hands.”
“...Huh,” Nick says slowly. “I… guess I’m sorry to hear that. Where’d your friends go anyway?”
David tilts his head. “You mean Cook?”
“Yeah, and that guy he was with. With the piercings?”
“Neal,” David offers, then, “I don’t actually know. They said they were going to the bathroom but they’ve kinda been gone a while.”
“Well, I was just in the… oh.” Nick trails off, suddenly realizing what the weird noises coming from a stall at the other end must have been. Everything stopped as soon as the door banged shut behind him, so he’d figured it’d carried from somewhere further down the hallway, but… oh. “I’m sure they’ll be back in a minute.”
He’s trying to keep his tone even, but it’s hard. David Cook. He’d never have guessed.
“Thanks,” David says half-heartedly, plopping dejectedly back onto the couch. “I sure hope so. We have to leave for the airport soon and everything.”
He looks so tired suddenly, and Nick wants to pat him on the back and ask if he wants a ride in their limo, but instead he slides his thumbs through the belt loops of his pants and asks, “You want me to hang out until they do?”
David looks up hopefully, but shakes his head. “No, you don’t have to, you can just go. I’ll be okay.”
“It’s fine.” Nick shrugs off the protestations with a wave of his hand and leans down to grab an apple from the table Zac was sitting on earlier. “I need to eat something, anyway. I just checked my levels and my sugar’s all messed up.”
David shifts over on the couch to give him room, and he sits down and takes a small bite.
“Um…” David begins timidly, and Nick glances at him. “Are you, um. Do you have diabetes?”
Nick leans back and hooks one of his feet around a leg of the table. “Yeah. I got diagnosed a couple years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” David looks sincerely remorseful about this, which is funny because he had no personal hand in Nick developing it whatsoever.
“No big. Hey…” Nick stretches his legs out in front of him and acts like he’s about to make the most casual suggestion known to man. “Next time you’re in L.A., we should hang out. You could give me your number, if you want.”
David stares at him with an imperceptible expression on his face, and Nick’s just about to ask if there’s something in his teeth when the other boy starts nodding slowly.
“Yeah,” David says, smiling. “Yeah, that’d be really great.”
--
Nick looks up the Idol tour dates on the way home only to find that David’s flying clear across the country to do a show in New York the next evening, which kind of makes him want to scream because he and his brothers were just there the day before. He fires off a text to that effect, dialing down the intensity about 200 percent, and David replies less than a minute later with Awww haha. So near and yet so far!
Nick shakes his head and slips his phone back into his pocket.
--
The two of them keep in contact sporadically after that. David’s not really a texting person, and of course they’re both on tour and pretty busy, but the other boy’s updates never fail to make Nick laugh. He chooses the most random stuff to share, from We did handstands in the parking lot in front of the fans today haha to Man, I really wish I had some blueberry pancakes. Nick usually lets him initiate, but on the last day of the Burning Up Tour, he’s so overcome by the energy of the crowd and the bittersweet knowledge of it being last time he does this for a while that he curls up in a hotel room armchair afterwards and texts David. He’s not even sure why he does it, but the response he gets (Oh my heck, that was today?! Call me in 10!!!) makes him smile even more than the fans had.
--
It’s September but Nick’s in Florida, so he can sit out on the balcony of the room in his pajamas. David’s in… Nick thinks Ohio, but he doesn’t seem like a sitting anywhere in his pajamas kind of guy, regardless of the weather. Nick folds one arm behind his head and uses his other hand to scroll to the only 801 area code in his address book. David picks up on the second ring.
“Heeeyyy, how you doin’?” David asks in a hushed, sympathetic tone, and Nick smiles at how seriously he’s taking this. It’s really good to hear his voice.
“I’m okay,” Nick says honestly. “It just feels weird, when you’ve been doing something for so long, to suddenly have it stop. We’ve basically been touring all year, so.”
There’s a sound on the other end of the line like David’s licking his lips nervously, followed by a sigh.
“I know I haven’t been touring nearly as long as you have, but… we only have six more shows left,” David says sadly. “The last one’s on the 13th, and that’s… that’s next Saturday, you know? So, like, in a week.”
“Man.” Nick exhales slowly, letting his breath out in one long whoosh. “How do you feel about it?”
David sighs. “It’s gonna be weird. It’s like… I went through this whole experience with these guys, you know? And now everyone’s just gonna go back home, and me and Cook have to start on album promotion and stuff so we won’t see each other every day anymore, and it’s just. It’s weird.”
Nick shakes his head before realizing David can’t see him, so he says “Man” again and then feels dumb. He can’t imagine having to say goodbye to the people he’s touring with. They’re all either family or such close friends they might as well be.
Before he really knows what he’s saying, he’s telling David, “If you need somebody to talk to next week…” before trailing off in horror because David’s obviously really close to his Idol friends, so why would he pass up confiding in them in person for some phone conversation with a Jonas Brother he met last month?
But David just laughs nervously and thanks him, which Nick is pretty sure must count for something.
--
David does end up calling, and Nick frowns at the thrill that runs up his spine when he sees the other boy’s name come up on his phone. David starts telling Nick all about Tulsa, how Cook got a standing ovation for like fifteen minutes or something ridiculous, and his voice gets husky with unshed tears. Nick doesn’t comment on it, just listens and makes little murmuring noises whenever there’s a pause in the flow of words. He softly plucks at his guitar until David’s talked himself out.
“This is really lame,” David says at last, sounding miserable.
Nick sighs. “If you were here, I’d do what Joe always does when I’m bummed.”
“What’s that?”
“He makes me play Guitar Hero.”
David sort of chuckles and sobs at the same time. “Cook says I’m really good at that,” he says wistfully. “We play it - I mean… used to play it a lot on the bus and I sort of, um. Beat him? Like a lot of times?”
“Yeah?” Nick asks, amused.
“Uh-huh. Although he can play the guitar for real, which I keep telling him is way more awesome. We both got the game for free after we did those, um. Ads.”
Oh, man, Nick forgot about those. If David Archuleta dancing on a table in his boxers wasn’t the funniest and most awkward thing in the world, he didn’t know what was.
“Did you see those?” David asks a tad embarrassedly, sounding like he wishes he’d never brought them up.
“Of course,” Nick assures him. He pauses, then continues, “…Cook got really into it, huh?”
David cracks up.
--
David’s album comes out on November 11th. Nick’s whole family goes to church that day because it’s Veterans’ Day, and on the way back, he makes his dad stop at WalMart so he can rush in and buy it. He pulls on a hoodie, which keeps him mostly incognito, and when the checkout girl widens her eyes at him, he presses his finger to his lips and gets her to double-bag the CD so the cover won’t show through.
Back in the car, Joe bugs him for five minutes straight until he produces a craftily purchased pack of Nerds and lets Joe and Frankie go at it while Kevin looks on. In the ensuing hullaballoo, he slips the bag into the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat and vows to sneak out later to get it. He does - under cover of darkness, feeling very Secret Ops - then listens to it in his bedroom.
--
It’s kind of ridiculous how much of a crush he has on David’s voice.
--
So David’s a good singer, technically speaking, but it’s the emotion he puts into his craft that makes the album so fantastic. Nick hits Don’t Let Go and fights the urge to put it on repeat, almost doesn’t breathe at all during A Little Too Not Over You, while Falling has tears pricking at his eyes. He’s never… just, this whole thing is crazy, how intense it is. And he doesn’t just mean the album.
--
Late the next night, Nick’s just sleepy enough not to be entirely in control of his thoughts as he lies in bed with Angels on repeat. It’s even better than the studio version from Idol. He’s basically been listening to the album for twenty-four hours straight at this point and he loves it just as much as when he heard it the first time. David’s going to go platinum before he has time to blink.
Without realizing what he’s doing, Nick gets to wondering, rather terrifyingly, how his parents would react if he was gay. He’s fairly certain his mom wouldn’t freak out or throw stuff or anything like that, she’d just do that weird quiet crying thing that means she’s really upset, and probably ask herself where she went wrong when she raised him. He thinks his father’s primary concern would be keeping it out of the newspapers.
So it’s lucky that Nick’s pretty sure he isn’t, really. Like, he’s almost positive. It’s not like this has a precedent or anything. He’s never… it’s just David Archuleta.
--
David’s in L.A. sporadically for meetings, and he and Nick meet up for coffee when they can. The former doesn’t actually drink coffee, but he’ll sit across the table with his juice or his chai, watching Nick sip at an espresso.
He’s really easy to talk to and that’s something Nick likes about him, along with the fact that he’s unfailingly polite, always attentive, and seems genuinely interested in whatever Nick has to say. David reminds Nick of a girl in that way. It’s something Selena does when they hang out, how Miley used to be when they were together. But David can talk your ear off, too - you just have to get him started.
It cracks Nick up when he rambles. He says in twenty words what anyone else could say in five, and has a habit of trailing off and deciding to approach his point from a different angle right in the middle of a sentence. Add that to the random bursts of singing he appears to have absolutely no control over and it makes for an interesting experience, but the more time they spend together, the more Nick begins to understand how David thinks. David often talks slowly and breaks up his sentences with musing pauses, but it’s not because he’s stupid; rather, his mind has leapt ahead ten paces and he needs a second to back up and deal with you.
Today, they’re chatting about David’s upcoming solo tour and Nick and his brothers’ plans for the upcoming year (“So you’re shooting a movie, a TV series, releasing an album and going on tour?” David asks, wide-eyed), and Nick brings up a rumor that’s been floating around the Disney studios.
“So, listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re gonna be doing an episode of Hannah Montana.”
David blushes, despite the fact that there’s really nothing embarrassing about that at all. Being on Hannah is an awesome way to jumpstart a career, and Nick thinks the fact that David got asked is pretty cool.
“What, you know she has a crush on you and you didn’t wanna make me mad because we used to date?” Nick asks teasingly. “It’s cool if you’re friends. I wouldn’t even care if you were more than friends, to be honest.”
David blushes harder. “No, I… um. I.” He laughs nervously, and Nick rolls his eyes to show he’s just trying to push David’s buttons. “She’s … she’s not even really a, um. Friend. She just - Disney wanted me on the show because I kinda fit their image, I guess.”
Nick feels the corners of his mouth curve upwards into a smile, because, seriously? This kid. “Yeah,” he says wryly. “Maybe kinda.”
David misses the sarcasm completely and continues blithely, “They wanted to give me my own show, like a reality thing, right after I finished Idol, but I was like…” He shakes his head, eyes getting big. “Noooooo.”
Nick’s sort of incredulous and amused all at once, and the two reactions tussle briefly inside him before the former wins out.
“Why would you turn something like that down? You know how much money that brings in, right? Didn’t they go over the figures with you?”
“Oh…” David looks at his hands, fiddling with the black Invisible Children bracelet on his right wrist. “I don’t really… like, the money isn’t… I just want to, um. Sing.”
And yeah, okay, the music comes first and foremost for Nick too, but sometimes you’ve just gotta look at a contract, realize the figure on the page could buy you three fairly large houses and a small fleet of Jet Skis, and sign on the dotted line.
That’s how they got him to agree to JONAS, at any rate.
“Me too, but. It’s good to have that money to put aside, you know, for your family or your education or whatever.”
The words ring false in Nick’s ears. Their family has more money than they know what to do with, even after Bahamian vacations and “charitable contributions” and Kevin flying his girlfriend to like, every freaking show they play. As for education, Nick himself is practically done with high school (he’s trying to beat Demi to graduation, and they’re both nearly two years ahead of themselves), and he really would like to go to college but he’s just not sure how feasible that would be. Northwestern, maybe. That’d be nice.
“Oh, gosh, yeah,” says David, drawing him out of his thoughts, “but like, with the album and everything, and tour, and being interviewed on so many TV shows, I kind of, um. Don’t need any more money? Especially now that I’m gonna be touring with your friend Demi.”
It tickles Nick how David always refers to her as his friend. It’s like David has no fame radar at all, no inclination to quail over someone because they have a famous name, and that’s kind of refreshing. He opens his mouth to respond, but David rushes ahead.
“Not that I’m saying I’m like, rich, or anything, because most of it’s in my savings and I kind of don’t like to spend a lot on myself anyway, but I mean, my parents weren’t poor or anything in the first place, even though my mom wears cubic zirconia instead of diamonds.” He stops talking, frowns at himself, and then says weakly, “Whoops.”
Nick almost dies laughing.
--
The Hannah Montana episode airs in early May, while David’s on tour overseas and the Jonas family are at the L.A. house working on promo for the upcoming tour and album. Nick rather embarrassedly finds himself hunkering down in the living room that night, scrolling to find the Disney Channel while his brothers are out seeing yet another chick flick.
There are times he really does question his sanity.
The thing was, David had hummed the duet he did with Miley incessantly for like, months, during every phone call from the bus that carried him on his solo tour around America and every rare Skype session they managed to fit in when nobody was around to listen, so Nick sort of feels compelled to see him sing it on the big screen or whatever.
At any rate, that’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.
--
In the time Nick’s known David, the other boy’s become a lot more assertive when dealing with pushy publicists or photographers angling for a great if slightly risqué or ridiculous shot, but the wardrobe manager for Hannah must have got the best of him. He’s wearing this peppermint green sleeveless hoodie over a dress shirt, with a green and white striped tie on top of that, and Nick’s not really sure what to make of it. It’s very… it’s very Disney.
He sings along to I Wanna Know You under his breath, hating that it’s catchy enough for him to consider texting Miley to ask if it’ll be on the next soundtrack, and when David hands Miley a rose, Nick laughs out loud at how awkward it is. He’s not sure if it was the cameras or Miley’s playful flirtation that threw David off, but either way, it’s pretty funny.
Nick pulls out his phone as soon as the episode’s over, pausing as he considers the long distance calling charge, but then he remembers what their world tour is projected to make and decides money isn’t really too much of a problem.
David picks up on the fourth ring with a rather suspicious “Hello?” and Nick puts on his fan voice, lisping about how totally awesome his tie looked on Hannah. There’s dead silence for a couple of seconds and then David says “Uhhh, hi, Nick…” in this tone that’s half unimpressed and half talking-to-a-crazy-person, and Nick laughs harder than he has in a while.
“How’s England?” he asks when he’s calmed down.
“Oh, it’s really cool!” David enthuses, and Nick smiles at the genuine excitement in his voice. “Everyone here says cheers instead of thank you, which is so neat, and I saw Big Ben, and I was on this British TV show a couple days ago with, like… sheep, who were kind of frisky at first but it all worked out okay in the end and that’s what matters, right? Oh, and I almost put body lotion in my hair the other day because the shampoo and the conditioner were two-in-one but I didn’t know that at first.” He takes a breath, then starts singing softly. “Twooo to one, static to the sound of you and I undone… Sorry. I like Jack’s Mannequin. Haha. How are you?”
Nick’s pretty glad David can’t see the grin on his face right now. David’s so funny when he gets going - like, unintentionally funny, which just adds to the level of amusement he provides. Nick has to clear his throat to stave off more laughter before he can reply.
“Busy. But at least we’re home right now. Things are gonna get pretty crazy with the tour next month and the album dropping and stuff, so we’re just lying low while we can, you know?”
“Yeah,” David says distractedly, then, “Gosh, I can’t believe it’s midnight here. I will never get used to this time difference. Sorry, what were you saying? …Sorry.”
Nick kind of adores the special brand of spacey David gets when he’s overtired. He also really likes that he and David are close enough for him to be familiar with this.
“Dude, go to bed.”
“I am in bed,” David tells him innocently. “I’m just not sleeping.”
Nick tries to ignore the frisson those words send shivering through his body. David’s older than him, but he seems way younger and so much more chaste, even though Nick’s the one with the purity ring. Thinking about him this way just seems wrong.
He clears his throat again, wrestling with his libido. When David asks if he has a cold, he says he’s fine kind of abruptly, and David says “Oh” in a voice like Nick kicked his puppy, and then Nick feels terrible.
“I can send you some audio files of songs from our new album tomorrow if you want,” he says awkwardly to fill the silence, hoping David will recognize the olive branch he’s offering.
There’s a brief pause.
“Wait… really?”
“Yeah, just don’t sell them on eBay or share them with any teenage girls,” Nick tells him drolly, and he can picture David shaking his head fervently as the light-heartedness of the statement goes right over his head.
“Gosh, no, I wouldn’t at all. Wow, I… thank you.”
And just like that the tension dissipates, Nick’s harsh tone forgotten. David sounds as if Nick just offered him a million dollars or something - like, it’s kind of ridiculous how much music obviously means to him. He’s so into it, lives and breathes it, and Nick would bet anything that David used to hear music in his head as a little kid just like Nick did, chords and hooks and snippets of lyrics he didn’t know how to express yet, just floating around like anyone could listen. His father still tells that story, the one with Nick at three years old asking why other people couldn’t hear the music too. What Nick loves about it is that his dad tells it exactly the same every time, ending on how the family knew Nick was set for stardom right then and there (Nick always rolls his eyes at that, but is secretly flattered). He starts relaying it to David, but doesn’t even get halfway before David’s snoring gently down the line.
Nick’s never had anyone fall asleep talking to him before. He isn’t offended or anything - he knows David’s dealing with jetlag and a fairly grueling schedule of promo and performances - but he’s kind of… he’s actually kind of embarrassed. It’s really intimate, is all, sitting in his room in Los Angeles and listening to the deep, even exhalations of someone half a world away.
He stays like that for several minutes, closing his eyes in the darkness, before he realizes he’s being vaguely creepy and hangs up.
--
David’s only touring in England for like two weeks before spending a few days in Asia and then flying home, but it’s weird how much it affects Nick to know he’s so far away. Nick’s used to his friends jetting off to all manner of places, communicating via texts and voicemails and the occasional phone call when schedules line up and Mercury is in retrograde, but with David, it’s hitting him harder. Ever since David adjusted to British time, they haven’t had the chance to exchange more than a couple of texts a day, and although that was enough when they were both on tour the previous summer, it isn’t anymore. Even Kevin notices the change in him, asking if something happened with Selena because oh, yeah, they’ve been hanging out recently so everyone assumes they must be dating.
“It’s not like that,” he huffs, expecting Kevin to cross his eyes at him or something, but his older brother just frowns and asks if he wants to come and watch Love Actually, which means he must really be worried.
Nick opens his mouth to decline but Kevin quirks an eyebrow like he knows something’s up but can’t tell what, and Nick starts to feel like maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. He hates having too much time off, all the residual energy building inside him, and he misses David, and he’s just… he’s cranky.
“Okay,” he says finally, and Kevin’s eyebrows almost leap off his face.
--
The Philippines is fifteen hours ahead of California, which seems kind of ridiculous to Nick until he remembers that the International Date Line lies somewhere in the middle of the ocean that divides them. David’s doing a huge concert with Cook in Manila at like four in the morning Nick’s time, but Nick rolls out of bed at 3:30 anyway, reaching for his phone because he knows David’s nervous about playing in front of that many people.
David picks up with an “Oh my gosh, you didn’t have to call me!” and Nick says he knows but he wanted to. David gets weirdly quiet after that.
“Thanks,” he says finally, and he sounds, like, genuinely touched by it, which sort of makes Nick’s heart grow three sizes.
“I miss you,” Nick says, then bites his lip because he truly hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but David doesn’t miss a beat.
“And I miss you,” he says honestly, innocently, and Nick realizes the way he meant it went completely over David’s head. “Like the desert missed the raaain,” the other boy sings softly, snapping Nick out of his thoughts, and God, Nick’s so gone over him, he really is.
He can hear someone talking in the background, and then David says “Hold… hold on a second” all distractedly, followed by a muffled “Okay, Kendra, I’ll be right there,” and then a clearer “Haha, sorry, hey.”
“You have to go,” Nick says preemptively.
“Yeah,” David confirms, sounding apologetic, and then, “Gosh, I’m nervous,” which makes Nick laugh.
Nick can hear other noises in the background now, various people’s voices and this raucous laughter that he’s pretty sure belongs to David Cook. Suddenly, he misses touring so much he can’t breathe.
“Go get ‘em,” he manages around the lump in his throat.
“I wish you were here,” David replies, then says “Bye” really hurriedly and hangs up before Nick can process the words.
It takes him a while to fall back to sleep.
--
They don’t speak again until after David arrives back in the country. Nick’s kind of worried because he’s pretty sure he was a little too obvious during their last conversation, but the first he hears from David is a voicemail asking how far Del Mar is from Los Angeles, which kind of suggests otherwise. Nick texts back with a string of question marks, and his phone vibrates not thirty seconds later with I’m doing a show at a county fair there at the end of June. You should come hang out haha.
Nick checks his own tour schedule and they’re actually on a break around that time, a realization that makes his heart leap quite ridiculously in his chest. They have five days between their last U.K. show and the kickoff of the North American dates, and he has no idea what they’re doing in the interim but he’ll lobby to fly back to L.A. if he has to. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Del Mar’s like an hour and a half away and Nick bought this sick new car recently, so he figures he’ll go down and show it off.
And if David needs a ride back to the city afterwards, well, he’d be happy to provide one.
--
Nick hasn’t been to a county fair in like, ever. His shiny Mustang looks a tad out of place in the dirt parking lot and he winces to think about what’ll happen if the wind kicks up, but there’s really nothing he can do about it.
He puts his shades on and circumnavigates the fairground, trying to remain inconspicuous while looking for the makeshift stage where David will perform. There’s a gazebo behind it where he was told everyone would be gathering - David himself, the girls from iCarly whose show he apparently guest-starred on (Nick will have to YouTube that), and some of his family members too. Nick remembers doing summer shows like this, small and uncomplicated, before he and his brothers got big. He lowers his shades and says “Nick Jonas” to the guy in charge of security, watching his name get crossed off a list.
The first person Nick sees is Jennette, the only blonde in a sea of dark hair, and a memory stirs within him of David saying his mom is Honduran. He knows Jennette slightly, and she looks up and waves in recognition when she feels his eyes on her.
He’s about to go over and say hi when a short, slender lady about his mom’s age swoops over with her arms out.
“You must be Nicholas!” she exclaims, her lilting accent elongating the first vowel of his name. “I’m Lupe - I’m David’s mother.” She hugs him warmly, her flowery perfume tickling his nostrils.
Nick politely introduces himself and compliments her earrings. He’d figured David’s family would be like him - quiet, soft-spoken, not at all touchy-feely - but when two aunts and a rather starstruck gaggle of cousins approach to welcome and embrace him, he’s forced to drastically rethink his assumption.
David sidles over, seeming even more reserved against the backdrop of his effusive family members. He stops in front of Nick and says “Hey” a little awkwardly, standing there for a beat before leaning in to quickly hug him.
Maybe it’s just because Nick wasn’t expecting it, or maybe it’s ‘cause Nick’s, um… crush is stronger than he thought, but hugging David feels weird to him. David’s so small, first of all, almost a full head shorter than Nick is, and when Nick claps him on the back and squeezes, he can feel the musculature of David’s lithe frame.
David pulls back, smiling shyly from under his lashes, and Nick’s so grateful that Miranda and Jennette are coming over to divert his attention because he feels like he could stare at David all day. If there’s one thing he’s learnt about being in the business, it’s that nobody looks exactly like they do in pictures, and there’s always something extra and surprising that can’t be captured on film. For David, it’s the softness about him: the glow of his skin, the sparkle of his eyes when he smiles.
Nick gets the sinking feeling that he’s in deeper than he thought he was.
--
They watch David from the sidelines, and it’s a real blast for Nick to see him live. He’s such a retiring person offstage, but when he’s performing, he has more presence than Nick knows what to do with. Nick stands and smiles and bops his head to the music, hoping he doesn’t look as bowled over as he feels. David really gets into the songs, throwing his head back and clenching his fists at points of high emotion, and it’s a really hot day, so his cotton shirt clings to his body. His arms are surprisingly muscular - not bulging like Joe’s, but there’s a distinct definition there that suits his slight build. The same goes for his chest, and Nick doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Jennette comes up beside him and says “Wow, he is sooo hot.”
“I guess,” Nick agrees noncommittally, eyes flickering between her and the stage as he fights to keep his tone even.
She eyes him for a few seconds like she’s sizing him up or something, and he’s just starting to feel uncomfortable when she says contemplatively, “I think he likes me.”
Nick clenches his jaw and counts to five before responding. “Oh?”
“Uh-huh.” She nods smugly. “I gave him my number when he shot that episode with us, and now we text each other and stuff.” She leans closer to him, whispering conspiratorially, “He invited me and Miranda to come today, and I think he might ask me out.”
Nick shouldn’t feel as jealous as he does. Like, there is really no reason for the tight knot he suddenly feels in his stomach. God, it’s not as if he thought he was David’s only friend or anything, but somehow the fact that David’s been talking to Jennette all this time feels like a betrayal.
“Well, good luck,” he says stiffly, pointedly returning his focus to David, who is grabbing the hands of some girls in the crowd.
Jennette gets the message and stays quiet.
--
If Nick thought David’s family members were demonstrative with him, that’s nothing compared to the hugs and kisses they shower David with backstage. There’s a flurry of hair-ruffling and cooing, and David staggers out of the encounter with three sets of lip prints on his face. When they finally release him, the rosy hue of a blush is staining both his cheekbones, and he looks at Nick helplessly.
“I love your family,” Nick says honestly, and David laughs.
“I love them too, they’re just kind of, uh… enthusiastic sometimes.” He ducks his head, smiling. “Did you like the show?”
Nick grins. “I thought it was awesome. Hey, um.” He touches his own cheek. “I think your mom and your aunts, uh…”
David’s hand flies to his face. “Oh my gosh, I keep telling them to stop doing that!” he wails, scrubbing at his face with his index finger. “Is that better?”
He kind of half succeeded with the top print, but the rest has smudged into the other two, blurring them into a long stripe of red.
“Uh,” Nick begins tactfully, reaching out as easily as if it were Joe before remembering who he’s dealing with and beginning to pull his hand back.
David reaches up and grabs his wrist. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “I don’t mind.”
Nick smiles weakly, and it occurs to him that maybe he should’ve had that granola bar he stashed in his glove compartment because suddenly his head is spinning and his skin feels hot. He really needs to check his levels.
“All right,” he murmurs, reaching up and pressing his thumb to David’s cheek. David’s skin is really soft - like, girl soft - and his breath stutters a little when Nick touches him. They stare at each other in silence as Nick rubs at the lipstick for what seems like forever.
“I think that’s good,” he says finally, clearing his throat to dispel the roughness in his voice.
David looks like he’s about to say something, but one of his little cousins appears out of nowhere and cannonballs into his side, wrapping her arms around him as she says something Nick doesn’t quite catch. David laughs and replies in Spanish, and the moment is broken.
---<---<---@
Part Two.
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: American Idol/Jonas Brothers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Religious angst.
Pairing: David Archuleta/Nick Jonas
Word Count: ~27,500
Dedication: Still for Makinsey.
Summary: Nick Jonas is straight. Very much so. And David Archuleta’s Mormon, so… he sort of has to be. But when the two meet backstage at the 2008 Teen Choice Awards, they lay the foundation for an enduring connection that neither of them expects.
Disclaimer: Although 95% of this is accurate in terms of who was where on a particular date, the story itself is fiction. Title is a lyric from the Jonas Brothers song "Be Mine."
Author's Notes: Written for jb_bigbang; my artist was wovenindelibly. Thanks to blueandbrady for her often insightful, occasionally patient, USUALLY CAPSLOCKED contributions as my beta. And if you’re not familiar with The Archuleta, as this was for a JB-centered challenge, this is he. David came second on season 7 of "American Idol" and has since had dalliances with many JB associates, including Benton Paul and Demi Lovato, both of whom he has toured with. In addition to attending the Teen Choice Awards together, David and JB also made appearances at the Hope for Haiti Now telethon and the Harmonies for Haiti concert. Despite this, there is not a single picture of David and Nick together, nor proof that they’ve ever properly met, much to my eternal chagrin. HOWEVER, they’ll both be performing at Arthur Ashe Kids’ Day in New York on August 28, so HERE’S HOPING, GUYS they did pose for the same group picture at the 2010 Arthur Ashe Kids' Day.
Click HERE to see wovenindelibly's accompanying fanmix:
---<---<---@
Nick’s never really watched American Idol. It’s hard with his schedule, and whenever he’s around a TV it gets commandeered by one of his brothers. Either Frankie needs to feed his Cartoon Network addiction (he doesn’t like watching Disney; it’s creepy, he says, seeing all his brothers’ friends onscreen like that), or Kevin insists on watching, like, The Notebook, and of course Joe gets all enthused too, which… lame. But this year they have a few weeks of downtime between the end of their headlining tour and their stint opening for Avril in Europe, and their mom is oddly charmed by this one kid on Idol - David something… Enchilada? - so she’s forever shooing Frankie away from the remote on the Tuesday and Wednesday nights they have free, making assorted cooing noises every time the kid appears.
David is allegedly seventeen, but from the quick glimpses Nick’s had, he looks younger than Nick does. He’s also apparently unable to speak in complete sentences, constantly trailing off on tangents while punctuating things like Nick’s kindergarten teacher used to do, heck-ing and dang-ing all over the place.
“You watching that David guy?” he asks his mom one night, wandering into the living room and balancing noncommittally on the edge of the couch. He’s at a loose end - his dad’s out picking up Frankie from a play date, and Kevin roped Joe into watching Titanic upstairs. As sad as it seems, Idol is looking like Nick’s best bet. He squints at the television. “Is that kid for real?”
His mother looks up. “His family’s Mormon,” she says by way of explanation.
Nick eyes the screen. David’s busy gosh-ing his way through the judges’ critique, and Randy keeps calling him dawg, which Nick’s pretty sure is a good sign even with his limited knowledge of the show. He always had this picture in his head of Mormons being kind of Aryan-looking, but David’s hair is dark and so are his sparkling eyes.
As Nick watches, David beams out at him nervously and a number appears at the bottom of the screen.
His mother turns to him. “Remember what number he is, Nicky. If you use your cell, we can vote twice!”
Nick rolls his eyes. “I haven’t even heard him sing yet.”
--
Turns out the Idol people show a clip of each contestant’s performance before the phone lines open - to refresh people’s memories, Nick supposes - and then you have to wait a whole day to get the results. Surprisingly, David’s actually really good. Like, to the point where it sort of gives Nick chills watching him stand in the middle of the stage in his little red T-shirt, belting out the lyrics to that song from Prince of Egypt. His voice is soft but powerful, and he closes his eyes a lot when he sings. He has really, really long lashes. Nick’s glad the next day when America puts him through.
--
Nick goes to the movies with his older brothers the following Tuesday, because Forgetting Sarah Marshall just came out and Joe has a weird obsession with Russell Brand. As the hapless Peter pines after Sarah while slowly, obliviously falling for Rachel (or maybe it’s the other way around - Nick hasn’t been paying that close attention), Nick lets his mind wander far from the screen.
At some point he realizes it’s Idol night and a small, insistent part of him wants to know what David sings this week. He briefly weighs up how crazy it’d be to duck out of the movie and call home to find out, but then Joe hisses at him in a British accent to “stop bloody fidgeting” so he crosses his arms over his chest and goes back to trying to focus on the movie.
--
Nick and his brothers may be home for a little while, but that doesn’t mean they’re off the hook in terms of press. They trade off doing phone interviews for radio shows and magazines (people usually want to talk to Joe the most, with Nick coming in a close second, and Kevin’s fine with that - that’s how he likes it). They don’t have conference-calling at home because their mom wants to keep the house as business-free as possible, so whenever an interviewer wants to talk to all three of them at once, Kevin dashes for the den while Nick grabs the cordless in the kitchen.
They field the usual questions about touring, the next album, and girlfriends, with some random inquiries mixed in. The random ones threw Nick for a loop when he and his brothers first got famous; for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to know if he’d prefer a girl to wear Uggs or Converse on a first date. Then he got wise to the magazines’ practice of posting his answers alongside those of other teen stars, everyone’s heads cut out and pasted next to their words in a ghoulish homage to teenyboppery. The heads were usually mounted atop stick figure drawings or else left floating, disembodied. It kind of freaked him out.
Sometimes, for kicks, an interviewer will ask them something about pop culture, like who they want to win Rock of Love or which girl they’d choose on The Bachelor, and one of them (usually Kevin, because Nick answers the music questions and Joe doesn’t have the attention span) has to patiently explain that their schedules don’t permit them to watch much TV.
So when the girl from Pop Star asks what they think of this year’s Idol, Kevin is all set to launch into his spiel when Nick cuts him off and explains that although he’s only seen a couple of shows, he’s kinda rooting for that Archuleta kid. He can tell that’s a good answer (he sees why David would appeal to the Pop Star demographic) because the girl keeps them talking for a good minute and a half about it, asking which Jonas Brothers song each of them would want David to cover, and whether they’d be interested in collaborating in the future.
Nick’s in the middle of saying he’d be totally cool with David opening for them on tour when his cell vibrates with a text from Joe in the other room saying wtf, r u MOM?!?!?!
He chooses not to respond.
He does, however, make a semi-snarky comment to the interviewer about how they should probably wrap things up because Joe’s started fiddling with his phone and the outcome of that is never good, which of course opens the floodgates to a fresh barrage of questions about what kind of phones they have and the specifics of their service plans (Nick doesn’t understand why this matters). Fortunately, their dad gets on the line - he always listens in on the office extension - and says it’s been lovely but they have places to go and people to see, and the interview is mercifully cut short.
--
The next Tuesday, Joe wants to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall again, easily coercing Kevin into accompanying him with the promise of buying Mean Girls on DVD in the near future, but Nick elects to stay home. With his mother. To watch American Idol.
He worries about his mental health sometimes.
--
It’s Neil Diamond week and David sings Sweet Caroline, which has been a Jonas family favorite for like, ever. Joe’s been lobbying to do it on the Avril tour because it’s an easy one for the audience to sing along to and he likes to jump on the ba-ba-bas.
Joe can’t sing it as well as David, though. Nick feels sort of mean thinking that, but it really is the truth. He YouTubes the performance later so he can watch it again, and honestly kind of doubts whether Neil Diamond can sing it better. He votes ten times by texting and five by phone, telling himself he can stop at any time, he just doesn’t want to.
--
Nick has a thing for people named Elvis. It’s a well-known fact that he pretty much loves everything about Costello, but he’s in awe of Presley too, his talent and charisma - not to mention the impact he had on music. So when David does Love Me Tender the following week (and also kills Ben E. King’s Stand By Me - like, completely blows every other artist’s cover out of the water), it kinda gives Nick some feelings, okay? It just does.
--
After the guy with the dreadlocks goes home that Wednesday, Nick’s shocked to realize there are only three contestants left in the competition - the tiny girl, the bartender with the husky voice that may or may not make Nick’s throat go dry sometimes, and David Archuleta.
The week after, the remaining three do this, like, homecoming thing to their respective cities of residence. David goshes his way through Utah, musing aloud about where his legions of fans could have parked. He actually cries on camera at one point because everything’s so insane and overwhelming and awesome, and it’s around that time Nick becomes uncomfortably aware of a lump in his throat that won’t budge no matter how many times he swallows.
Nick doesn’t even remember what David sings that week because he’s busy working his jaw and worrying at his lips the whole rest of the show, trying to mentally talk himself down from this. Simon, the bitchy British judge, has said some pretty mean things to David over the weeks (okay, so maybe Nick looked up some of David’s earlier performances online, no big), and the near-constant mentions of the finale are making him nervous. He just… he really wants David to go through, is all. It’d suck to get this far only to be eliminated at the final hurdle.
--
Nick doesn’t consider himself to be a malicious human being, but when the tiny girl - Syesha? - is voted off the next night, he punches the air and lets out a whoop so loud Joe comes bounding down from Kevin’s room to see what the matter is.
Of course, he pokes his head into the living room while David’s onscreen, so it’s patently obvious which show Nick’s watching and why. Joe rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, and Nick raises a hand to silence him.
“Can I just remind you what you’re watching right now?”
Joe closes his mouth and appears to wilt slightly.
“Would it be, I don’t know, Terminator?” Nick parries. “Something with James Bond? Maybe a sports movie? Oh, wait: Romeo & Juliet, the DiCaprio version.”
Silence.
“Yeah. I thought so.” His lips curve into a smirk. There’s nothing he likes better than winning an argument (except maybe winning a board game or a free-throw competition, but arguments are definitely up there). “Anything else you’d like to say, Joseph?”
Joe looks at his mom for backup, but she’s sitting on the couch with her mouth pressed into the funny crease that means she’s trying not to smile.
“Guess not,” he mumbles, turning to flounce back upstairs, and Nick smiles to himself. It’s been a good night.
--
So David and the bartender - who is also named David - get to the final, and Nick might be kind of a nervous wreck about it. They each have to do like five million songs, then a duet, and then Ryan Seacrest talks for like ever, and there are about fifty commercial breaks on top of that. Of course, Seacrest has to draw it out until the last second with his “And the winner is, David…” thing, which makes Nick want to throw a heavy object at the television.
But then it’s like time speeds up because suddenly the David with the husky voice is crying and Nick’s vaguely aware of his mom rubbing his shoulder as he thinks about how all of this should be the other way around.
--
The David who came in second still gets signed, of course, because he’s amassed quite a legion of teenage fans (probably some of Nick’s), so Nick leaves for Europe fairly secure in the knowledge that he hasn’t heard the last of David Archuleta.
He knows that for a fact, actually, because all of David’s performances have been downloaded to his iPod.
--
So they go to Europe with Avril, then come home and start the Burning Up Tour in the middle of July. Avril’s opening for them this time, which they all find pretty funny - except Avril, maybe. Nick hasn’t asked.
David’s single Crush comes out at the beginning of August, and its title makes Nick remember his solo career from way back before the Jonas Brothers took off. Crazy Kinda Crush was never a big hit for him, but he’s sure David will have better luck. He grabs a minute to listen to the song before their show in Saratoga Springs, lying on his tour bus bunk with the curtain drawn. It’s poppy and sappy and instantly stuck in his head, but he doesn’t mind that much because David sings the hell out of it just like he does with everything else. The kid has a mean falsetto, and a voice like honey. The tension leaches out of Nick’s limbs as he listens.
Nick loves touring - they all do - but he’s really happy that after tonight they’re on a mini-break, of sorts. Three whole days without a show sounds amazing when they’ve done ten in the last two weeks. They have the Teen Choice Awards in the middle of it, which Nick’s been dreading ever since he heard the term “aerial stunt” being bandied about, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.
--
They fly out to California the next day and it’s a big rush to get to Universal City in time (L.A. traffic is never pleasant), but they make it and get dropped off in the green room, where they’re told to eat some cubed cheese off toothpicks and mingle. Johnny Depp and Keira Knightley will be arriving later, but for now it’s mostly teen stars Nick already knows, which he’s grateful for because he won’t have to work the room as much.
Joe and Vanessa start chatting almost immediately, so Nick ends up sitting stiffly near them as Kevin balances on a couch arm to talk to Zac, who is perched on the coffee table in front of them. (Why he and Kevin don’t find real seats like regular people, Nick really does not know, but it leaves an empty space for him to spread out into if he wants, so whatever.) Zac’s eyes are really blue and really piercing, especially when he’s giving you his full attention, and Nick finds it quite unnerving to be situated immediately to the left of his gaze.
Because of where he’s sitting, Nick can’t see anything when an excited susurrus begins to frisson through the room, starting at the door and radiating outwards through the loose mingle of people. That means only one thing - someone big has arrived, someone impressive, and Nick cranes his neck as unobtrusively as possible because it wouldn’t do for a Jonas Brother to be caught gawking.
But he forgets about all that when he sees the top of David Cook’s half-assed fauxhawk and weirdly disproportionate forehead. The guy’s funny-looking in an endearing kind of way, but he’s not who Nick’s focus is on right now because behind David Cook, almost a whole head shorter (but probably less when he’s not slouching), is David Archuleta.
--
David looks oddly different but undeniably himself, with his porcelain-pale skin and gentle, smiling eyes. He seems so out of his depth in this situation, sort of flinchy and nervous, and he hunches in on himself as he follows his friend around the room, haltingly making eye contact with the people David Cook shakes hands with.
Miley’s all over him, which Nick shouldn’t be surprised about, but David Cook clearly has no patience for her shenanigans because he draws his arm protectively around David’s shoulders and says something to her that Nick wishes he could hear. Miley backs off fast - Nick knows from experience that her bark is worse than her bite - but David leans in and whispers to his companion anyway before disentangling himself from the other man’s grasp and looking around the room.
He locks eyes with Nick for a second before Nick tears his gaze away and pretends to be exceedingly, insanely interested in whatever it is Zac’s yammering on about. The next thing he knows, someone’s plunking down next to him on the couch. He summons a sort of bared-teeth grin to make it clear that while he is not happy about this invasion of space, he’s Nick Jonas and he is a professional, dammit, but that all dissipates when he looks to his left and finds himself gazing into a pair of weirdly sparkly hazel eyes.
“Heeey,” comes this voice, super cheerful and friendly, but with a distinct nervousness laced on top of that. “I’m David Archuleta.”
--
They actually kind of end up chatting, after Nick gets over himself enough to shake David’s hand and command his brain not to focus on the way David says his last name all upbeat like it’s music.
David is… pretty much exactly like he was on the show, actually. He stutters sometimes and waves his hands around and speaks in italics a lot, but the planes of his face are different and Nick never knew his eyes were that freaky shade of greenish brown, all flecked with gold like a cat’s. He looks a lot better in person. That sounds like every cliché in the book, but it’s just… it’s the truth.
Nick doesn’t know when he became girlier than the movies Joe and Kevin buy off the Starz network when they’re left unattended, but he really needs to stop it.
--
It doesn’t occur to Nick to congratulate David on getting to the final until a good fifteen minutes into their conversation, and as soon as he thinks of it, the words tumble out even though he’s in the middle of saying something else entirely.
David pauses for a second and his eyebrows sort of knit together while he’s processing this development, but he beams and says thank you, followed by, “You watched the show?”
“Uh… occasionally,” Nick responds drily, and Kevin shoots him a significant look from behind David’s shoulder, which he pointedly ignores. “When I could find the time, you know. Our schedules are kinda packed.”
“Time after time…” David sings softly, thoughtfully, and it’s almost like he needs a second to process Nick’s words before he replies, “Oh my gosh, tell me about it!” His eyes get all wide like he so badly wants to emphasize what he’s saying that his tone of voice alone won’t do it, and Nick thinks in a detached way that his eyes are really pretty.
“Me and Cook have done, like… like twenty TV shows together since Idol, maybe - well, perhaps not twenty, but… a lot. And then,” (he spreads his hands out in front of him and Nick looks down at them, amused) “I have all these magazine people calling to ask me, like, what my favorite shampoo is.”
He looks so endearingly flummoxed by this turn of events that Nick almost bursts out laughing, but thankfully manages to control himself.
“They do that,” he says glibly instead. “We’re objects of fascination to them.” He lets that sink in for a second before following it up with, “You’ve hit the big time, kid.”
The corners of David’s lips twitch nervously like he doesn’t quite know if that’s a good thing or not, so Nick lightly punches him in the arm on reflex and then instantly regrets it. He forgot about David’s weird space thing, how he sort of recoils when someone impinges on his personal bubble, but David just looks at him quizzically for a moment before his mouth curves into a shy smile.
If Nick melts a little at that, he’ll never admit it.
--
While he’s talking to David, Nick actually forgets they’ve got a show to do, as silly as that sounds. Luckily, he remembers pretty quickly when David Cook ambles over with this buddy of his who came in with them, all tattooed and pierced and looking impossibly out of place. Cook and the other guy both get these smirks on their faces when Cook asks “Who’s your new friend?” and David quite incomprehensibly starts blushing.
Cook’s arrival definitely jolts Nick back to earth, though. This isn’t just about fraternizing with American Idols and watching Miley hit on anything that moves. He thinks about the awards that won’t present themselves, the dumb lines he and his brothers had to memorize (with strict instructions to make them sound as unrehearsed as possible, just like always), the very thin, less than sturdy-looking wires from which they will shortly be dangling down over the audience.
Suddenly, he’s not sure hitting the big time was a good thing after all.
--
The green room empties out pretty fast after they get the call to “bring in the stars.” This glorified usher-type person actually yells that at the front of the room, and David twitches at the noise before turning to Cook and asking under his breath, “Does she mean us?”
Cook looks about as charmed by the question as Nick is, but unlike Nick, he can reach out and ruffle David’s hair without it being much of an issue. David kind of scrunches his face and leans slightly backward, but it isn’t a serious attempt to get away and Nick can tell he’s pretty comfortable with it.
“Yeah, she means us, Arch,” Cook tells him, laughing, and David bites his lip and stands.
“So, um,” he says softly, turning in Nick’s direction. “You coming?”
Nick winces. “They’re keeping us back here until our first segment. The audience will freak out more if they haven’t seen us yet, I guess. But you guys get to walk in and sit in the front rows.”
“Gosh,” David murmurs softly. “You must have a lot of fans, huh? If they’re gonna go that... crazy.” He grins and hums a few bars of the song by Gnarls Barkley, and Nick just can’t believe he even exists.
“Yeah,” Nick chuckles, then offers, “It was good to meet you.”
“You too!” David responds enthusiastically, offering him this wide, sweet smile like Nick’s just said the nicest thing in the world. Cook’s friend - the guy with all the tattoos - quirks his eyebrow at Nick in a this kid can’t be real, right? kind of way, and Nick has to hold back his grin.
--
At the end of every awards show Nick’s ever been to, the mass exodus is horrifyingly intense. Part of him is glad that the chances of seeing David again are so slim because otherwise he might talk himself into doing something ridiculous like giving David his number. Of course, the rest of him is wishing he’d done that when he had the chance.
He ducks backstage in the interim between the celebrities leaving and the regular audience members being let out, checks his levels in the bathroom and then sighs and heads for the green room in the hope that the bowls of fruit from earlier will still be set out. He knew he was feeling out of whack. It was the dumb flying-over-the-audience stunt that did it; he’d been worrying about it all evening. He’s not so good with heights.
He isn’t expecting anyone to be around so he barges through the doorway just in time to see Miley take her hand off David’s thigh and look up from the couch with wide blue eyes.
“Uh…” he says intelligently.
“Hey, Nicky,” Miley purrs, getting up like nothing’s happened. She breezes past him in a cloud of perfume. “I was just leaving.”
As soon as she’s gone, Nick glances at David, who’s sitting on the couch looking horrified. Nick smiles but represses his laughter, which he seems to be doing a lot today where David’s concerned.
“Dude, did she like, put her moves on you or something? Was it really that bad?”
David blinks. “Um… I don’t… kind of?” He fingers a patch of denim on his thigh. “I just. I have this box.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s like…” David stands up and draws a rough square in the air around his body, starting at his neck and going down past his waist. “There’s this, um… this area where I won’t touch fans or sign their bodies or anything. It’s, like. It’s respectful.”
“So Miley invaded your box?” Nick asks seriously, still trying very hard to keep a straight face.
“I mean, I’m sure she’s a nice girl and everything, but… yeah? I didn't, like, do anything, she just. Her hands.”
“...Huh,” Nick says slowly. “I… guess I’m sorry to hear that. Where’d your friends go anyway?”
David tilts his head. “You mean Cook?”
“Yeah, and that guy he was with. With the piercings?”
“Neal,” David offers, then, “I don’t actually know. They said they were going to the bathroom but they’ve kinda been gone a while.”
“Well, I was just in the… oh.” Nick trails off, suddenly realizing what the weird noises coming from a stall at the other end must have been. Everything stopped as soon as the door banged shut behind him, so he’d figured it’d carried from somewhere further down the hallway, but… oh. “I’m sure they’ll be back in a minute.”
He’s trying to keep his tone even, but it’s hard. David Cook. He’d never have guessed.
“Thanks,” David says half-heartedly, plopping dejectedly back onto the couch. “I sure hope so. We have to leave for the airport soon and everything.”
He looks so tired suddenly, and Nick wants to pat him on the back and ask if he wants a ride in their limo, but instead he slides his thumbs through the belt loops of his pants and asks, “You want me to hang out until they do?”
David looks up hopefully, but shakes his head. “No, you don’t have to, you can just go. I’ll be okay.”
“It’s fine.” Nick shrugs off the protestations with a wave of his hand and leans down to grab an apple from the table Zac was sitting on earlier. “I need to eat something, anyway. I just checked my levels and my sugar’s all messed up.”
David shifts over on the couch to give him room, and he sits down and takes a small bite.
“Um…” David begins timidly, and Nick glances at him. “Are you, um. Do you have diabetes?”
Nick leans back and hooks one of his feet around a leg of the table. “Yeah. I got diagnosed a couple years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” David looks sincerely remorseful about this, which is funny because he had no personal hand in Nick developing it whatsoever.
“No big. Hey…” Nick stretches his legs out in front of him and acts like he’s about to make the most casual suggestion known to man. “Next time you’re in L.A., we should hang out. You could give me your number, if you want.”
David stares at him with an imperceptible expression on his face, and Nick’s just about to ask if there’s something in his teeth when the other boy starts nodding slowly.
“Yeah,” David says, smiling. “Yeah, that’d be really great.”
--
Nick looks up the Idol tour dates on the way home only to find that David’s flying clear across the country to do a show in New York the next evening, which kind of makes him want to scream because he and his brothers were just there the day before. He fires off a text to that effect, dialing down the intensity about 200 percent, and David replies less than a minute later with Awww haha. So near and yet so far!
Nick shakes his head and slips his phone back into his pocket.
--
The two of them keep in contact sporadically after that. David’s not really a texting person, and of course they’re both on tour and pretty busy, but the other boy’s updates never fail to make Nick laugh. He chooses the most random stuff to share, from We did handstands in the parking lot in front of the fans today haha to Man, I really wish I had some blueberry pancakes. Nick usually lets him initiate, but on the last day of the Burning Up Tour, he’s so overcome by the energy of the crowd and the bittersweet knowledge of it being last time he does this for a while that he curls up in a hotel room armchair afterwards and texts David. He’s not even sure why he does it, but the response he gets (Oh my heck, that was today?! Call me in 10!!!) makes him smile even more than the fans had.
--
It’s September but Nick’s in Florida, so he can sit out on the balcony of the room in his pajamas. David’s in… Nick thinks Ohio, but he doesn’t seem like a sitting anywhere in his pajamas kind of guy, regardless of the weather. Nick folds one arm behind his head and uses his other hand to scroll to the only 801 area code in his address book. David picks up on the second ring.
“Heeeyyy, how you doin’?” David asks in a hushed, sympathetic tone, and Nick smiles at how seriously he’s taking this. It’s really good to hear his voice.
“I’m okay,” Nick says honestly. “It just feels weird, when you’ve been doing something for so long, to suddenly have it stop. We’ve basically been touring all year, so.”
There’s a sound on the other end of the line like David’s licking his lips nervously, followed by a sigh.
“I know I haven’t been touring nearly as long as you have, but… we only have six more shows left,” David says sadly. “The last one’s on the 13th, and that’s… that’s next Saturday, you know? So, like, in a week.”
“Man.” Nick exhales slowly, letting his breath out in one long whoosh. “How do you feel about it?”
David sighs. “It’s gonna be weird. It’s like… I went through this whole experience with these guys, you know? And now everyone’s just gonna go back home, and me and Cook have to start on album promotion and stuff so we won’t see each other every day anymore, and it’s just. It’s weird.”
Nick shakes his head before realizing David can’t see him, so he says “Man” again and then feels dumb. He can’t imagine having to say goodbye to the people he’s touring with. They’re all either family or such close friends they might as well be.
Before he really knows what he’s saying, he’s telling David, “If you need somebody to talk to next week…” before trailing off in horror because David’s obviously really close to his Idol friends, so why would he pass up confiding in them in person for some phone conversation with a Jonas Brother he met last month?
But David just laughs nervously and thanks him, which Nick is pretty sure must count for something.
--
David does end up calling, and Nick frowns at the thrill that runs up his spine when he sees the other boy’s name come up on his phone. David starts telling Nick all about Tulsa, how Cook got a standing ovation for like fifteen minutes or something ridiculous, and his voice gets husky with unshed tears. Nick doesn’t comment on it, just listens and makes little murmuring noises whenever there’s a pause in the flow of words. He softly plucks at his guitar until David’s talked himself out.
“This is really lame,” David says at last, sounding miserable.
Nick sighs. “If you were here, I’d do what Joe always does when I’m bummed.”
“What’s that?”
“He makes me play Guitar Hero.”
David sort of chuckles and sobs at the same time. “Cook says I’m really good at that,” he says wistfully. “We play it - I mean… used to play it a lot on the bus and I sort of, um. Beat him? Like a lot of times?”
“Yeah?” Nick asks, amused.
“Uh-huh. Although he can play the guitar for real, which I keep telling him is way more awesome. We both got the game for free after we did those, um. Ads.”
Oh, man, Nick forgot about those. If David Archuleta dancing on a table in his boxers wasn’t the funniest and most awkward thing in the world, he didn’t know what was.
“Did you see those?” David asks a tad embarrassedly, sounding like he wishes he’d never brought them up.
“Of course,” Nick assures him. He pauses, then continues, “…Cook got really into it, huh?”
David cracks up.
--
David’s album comes out on November 11th. Nick’s whole family goes to church that day because it’s Veterans’ Day, and on the way back, he makes his dad stop at WalMart so he can rush in and buy it. He pulls on a hoodie, which keeps him mostly incognito, and when the checkout girl widens her eyes at him, he presses his finger to his lips and gets her to double-bag the CD so the cover won’t show through.
Back in the car, Joe bugs him for five minutes straight until he produces a craftily purchased pack of Nerds and lets Joe and Frankie go at it while Kevin looks on. In the ensuing hullaballoo, he slips the bag into the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat and vows to sneak out later to get it. He does - under cover of darkness, feeling very Secret Ops - then listens to it in his bedroom.
--
It’s kind of ridiculous how much of a crush he has on David’s voice.
--
So David’s a good singer, technically speaking, but it’s the emotion he puts into his craft that makes the album so fantastic. Nick hits Don’t Let Go and fights the urge to put it on repeat, almost doesn’t breathe at all during A Little Too Not Over You, while Falling has tears pricking at his eyes. He’s never… just, this whole thing is crazy, how intense it is. And he doesn’t just mean the album.
--
Late the next night, Nick’s just sleepy enough not to be entirely in control of his thoughts as he lies in bed with Angels on repeat. It’s even better than the studio version from Idol. He’s basically been listening to the album for twenty-four hours straight at this point and he loves it just as much as when he heard it the first time. David’s going to go platinum before he has time to blink.
Without realizing what he’s doing, Nick gets to wondering, rather terrifyingly, how his parents would react if he was gay. He’s fairly certain his mom wouldn’t freak out or throw stuff or anything like that, she’d just do that weird quiet crying thing that means she’s really upset, and probably ask herself where she went wrong when she raised him. He thinks his father’s primary concern would be keeping it out of the newspapers.
So it’s lucky that Nick’s pretty sure he isn’t, really. Like, he’s almost positive. It’s not like this has a precedent or anything. He’s never… it’s just David Archuleta.
--
David’s in L.A. sporadically for meetings, and he and Nick meet up for coffee when they can. The former doesn’t actually drink coffee, but he’ll sit across the table with his juice or his chai, watching Nick sip at an espresso.
He’s really easy to talk to and that’s something Nick likes about him, along with the fact that he’s unfailingly polite, always attentive, and seems genuinely interested in whatever Nick has to say. David reminds Nick of a girl in that way. It’s something Selena does when they hang out, how Miley used to be when they were together. But David can talk your ear off, too - you just have to get him started.
It cracks Nick up when he rambles. He says in twenty words what anyone else could say in five, and has a habit of trailing off and deciding to approach his point from a different angle right in the middle of a sentence. Add that to the random bursts of singing he appears to have absolutely no control over and it makes for an interesting experience, but the more time they spend together, the more Nick begins to understand how David thinks. David often talks slowly and breaks up his sentences with musing pauses, but it’s not because he’s stupid; rather, his mind has leapt ahead ten paces and he needs a second to back up and deal with you.
Today, they’re chatting about David’s upcoming solo tour and Nick and his brothers’ plans for the upcoming year (“So you’re shooting a movie, a TV series, releasing an album and going on tour?” David asks, wide-eyed), and Nick brings up a rumor that’s been floating around the Disney studios.
“So, listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re gonna be doing an episode of Hannah Montana.”
David blushes, despite the fact that there’s really nothing embarrassing about that at all. Being on Hannah is an awesome way to jumpstart a career, and Nick thinks the fact that David got asked is pretty cool.
“What, you know she has a crush on you and you didn’t wanna make me mad because we used to date?” Nick asks teasingly. “It’s cool if you’re friends. I wouldn’t even care if you were more than friends, to be honest.”
David blushes harder. “No, I… um. I.” He laughs nervously, and Nick rolls his eyes to show he’s just trying to push David’s buttons. “She’s … she’s not even really a, um. Friend. She just - Disney wanted me on the show because I kinda fit their image, I guess.”
Nick feels the corners of his mouth curve upwards into a smile, because, seriously? This kid. “Yeah,” he says wryly. “Maybe kinda.”
David misses the sarcasm completely and continues blithely, “They wanted to give me my own show, like a reality thing, right after I finished Idol, but I was like…” He shakes his head, eyes getting big. “Noooooo.”
Nick’s sort of incredulous and amused all at once, and the two reactions tussle briefly inside him before the former wins out.
“Why would you turn something like that down? You know how much money that brings in, right? Didn’t they go over the figures with you?”
“Oh…” David looks at his hands, fiddling with the black Invisible Children bracelet on his right wrist. “I don’t really… like, the money isn’t… I just want to, um. Sing.”
And yeah, okay, the music comes first and foremost for Nick too, but sometimes you’ve just gotta look at a contract, realize the figure on the page could buy you three fairly large houses and a small fleet of Jet Skis, and sign on the dotted line.
That’s how they got him to agree to JONAS, at any rate.
“Me too, but. It’s good to have that money to put aside, you know, for your family or your education or whatever.”
The words ring false in Nick’s ears. Their family has more money than they know what to do with, even after Bahamian vacations and “charitable contributions” and Kevin flying his girlfriend to like, every freaking show they play. As for education, Nick himself is practically done with high school (he’s trying to beat Demi to graduation, and they’re both nearly two years ahead of themselves), and he really would like to go to college but he’s just not sure how feasible that would be. Northwestern, maybe. That’d be nice.
“Oh, gosh, yeah,” says David, drawing him out of his thoughts, “but like, with the album and everything, and tour, and being interviewed on so many TV shows, I kind of, um. Don’t need any more money? Especially now that I’m gonna be touring with your friend Demi.”
It tickles Nick how David always refers to her as his friend. It’s like David has no fame radar at all, no inclination to quail over someone because they have a famous name, and that’s kind of refreshing. He opens his mouth to respond, but David rushes ahead.
“Not that I’m saying I’m like, rich, or anything, because most of it’s in my savings and I kind of don’t like to spend a lot on myself anyway, but I mean, my parents weren’t poor or anything in the first place, even though my mom wears cubic zirconia instead of diamonds.” He stops talking, frowns at himself, and then says weakly, “Whoops.”
Nick almost dies laughing.
--
The Hannah Montana episode airs in early May, while David’s on tour overseas and the Jonas family are at the L.A. house working on promo for the upcoming tour and album. Nick rather embarrassedly finds himself hunkering down in the living room that night, scrolling to find the Disney Channel while his brothers are out seeing yet another chick flick.
There are times he really does question his sanity.
The thing was, David had hummed the duet he did with Miley incessantly for like, months, during every phone call from the bus that carried him on his solo tour around America and every rare Skype session they managed to fit in when nobody was around to listen, so Nick sort of feels compelled to see him sing it on the big screen or whatever.
At any rate, that’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.
--
In the time Nick’s known David, the other boy’s become a lot more assertive when dealing with pushy publicists or photographers angling for a great if slightly risqué or ridiculous shot, but the wardrobe manager for Hannah must have got the best of him. He’s wearing this peppermint green sleeveless hoodie over a dress shirt, with a green and white striped tie on top of that, and Nick’s not really sure what to make of it. It’s very… it’s very Disney.
He sings along to I Wanna Know You under his breath, hating that it’s catchy enough for him to consider texting Miley to ask if it’ll be on the next soundtrack, and when David hands Miley a rose, Nick laughs out loud at how awkward it is. He’s not sure if it was the cameras or Miley’s playful flirtation that threw David off, but either way, it’s pretty funny.
Nick pulls out his phone as soon as the episode’s over, pausing as he considers the long distance calling charge, but then he remembers what their world tour is projected to make and decides money isn’t really too much of a problem.
David picks up on the fourth ring with a rather suspicious “Hello?” and Nick puts on his fan voice, lisping about how totally awesome his tie looked on Hannah. There’s dead silence for a couple of seconds and then David says “Uhhh, hi, Nick…” in this tone that’s half unimpressed and half talking-to-a-crazy-person, and Nick laughs harder than he has in a while.
“How’s England?” he asks when he’s calmed down.
“Oh, it’s really cool!” David enthuses, and Nick smiles at the genuine excitement in his voice. “Everyone here says cheers instead of thank you, which is so neat, and I saw Big Ben, and I was on this British TV show a couple days ago with, like… sheep, who were kind of frisky at first but it all worked out okay in the end and that’s what matters, right? Oh, and I almost put body lotion in my hair the other day because the shampoo and the conditioner were two-in-one but I didn’t know that at first.” He takes a breath, then starts singing softly. “Twooo to one, static to the sound of you and I undone… Sorry. I like Jack’s Mannequin. Haha. How are you?”
Nick’s pretty glad David can’t see the grin on his face right now. David’s so funny when he gets going - like, unintentionally funny, which just adds to the level of amusement he provides. Nick has to clear his throat to stave off more laughter before he can reply.
“Busy. But at least we’re home right now. Things are gonna get pretty crazy with the tour next month and the album dropping and stuff, so we’re just lying low while we can, you know?”
“Yeah,” David says distractedly, then, “Gosh, I can’t believe it’s midnight here. I will never get used to this time difference. Sorry, what were you saying? …Sorry.”
Nick kind of adores the special brand of spacey David gets when he’s overtired. He also really likes that he and David are close enough for him to be familiar with this.
“Dude, go to bed.”
“I am in bed,” David tells him innocently. “I’m just not sleeping.”
Nick tries to ignore the frisson those words send shivering through his body. David’s older than him, but he seems way younger and so much more chaste, even though Nick’s the one with the purity ring. Thinking about him this way just seems wrong.
He clears his throat again, wrestling with his libido. When David asks if he has a cold, he says he’s fine kind of abruptly, and David says “Oh” in a voice like Nick kicked his puppy, and then Nick feels terrible.
“I can send you some audio files of songs from our new album tomorrow if you want,” he says awkwardly to fill the silence, hoping David will recognize the olive branch he’s offering.
There’s a brief pause.
“Wait… really?”
“Yeah, just don’t sell them on eBay or share them with any teenage girls,” Nick tells him drolly, and he can picture David shaking his head fervently as the light-heartedness of the statement goes right over his head.
“Gosh, no, I wouldn’t at all. Wow, I… thank you.”
And just like that the tension dissipates, Nick’s harsh tone forgotten. David sounds as if Nick just offered him a million dollars or something - like, it’s kind of ridiculous how much music obviously means to him. He’s so into it, lives and breathes it, and Nick would bet anything that David used to hear music in his head as a little kid just like Nick did, chords and hooks and snippets of lyrics he didn’t know how to express yet, just floating around like anyone could listen. His father still tells that story, the one with Nick at three years old asking why other people couldn’t hear the music too. What Nick loves about it is that his dad tells it exactly the same every time, ending on how the family knew Nick was set for stardom right then and there (Nick always rolls his eyes at that, but is secretly flattered). He starts relaying it to David, but doesn’t even get halfway before David’s snoring gently down the line.
Nick’s never had anyone fall asleep talking to him before. He isn’t offended or anything - he knows David’s dealing with jetlag and a fairly grueling schedule of promo and performances - but he’s kind of… he’s actually kind of embarrassed. It’s really intimate, is all, sitting in his room in Los Angeles and listening to the deep, even exhalations of someone half a world away.
He stays like that for several minutes, closing his eyes in the darkness, before he realizes he’s being vaguely creepy and hangs up.
--
David’s only touring in England for like two weeks before spending a few days in Asia and then flying home, but it’s weird how much it affects Nick to know he’s so far away. Nick’s used to his friends jetting off to all manner of places, communicating via texts and voicemails and the occasional phone call when schedules line up and Mercury is in retrograde, but with David, it’s hitting him harder. Ever since David adjusted to British time, they haven’t had the chance to exchange more than a couple of texts a day, and although that was enough when they were both on tour the previous summer, it isn’t anymore. Even Kevin notices the change in him, asking if something happened with Selena because oh, yeah, they’ve been hanging out recently so everyone assumes they must be dating.
“It’s not like that,” he huffs, expecting Kevin to cross his eyes at him or something, but his older brother just frowns and asks if he wants to come and watch Love Actually, which means he must really be worried.
Nick opens his mouth to decline but Kevin quirks an eyebrow like he knows something’s up but can’t tell what, and Nick starts to feel like maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. He hates having too much time off, all the residual energy building inside him, and he misses David, and he’s just… he’s cranky.
“Okay,” he says finally, and Kevin’s eyebrows almost leap off his face.
--
The Philippines is fifteen hours ahead of California, which seems kind of ridiculous to Nick until he remembers that the International Date Line lies somewhere in the middle of the ocean that divides them. David’s doing a huge concert with Cook in Manila at like four in the morning Nick’s time, but Nick rolls out of bed at 3:30 anyway, reaching for his phone because he knows David’s nervous about playing in front of that many people.
David picks up with an “Oh my gosh, you didn’t have to call me!” and Nick says he knows but he wanted to. David gets weirdly quiet after that.
“Thanks,” he says finally, and he sounds, like, genuinely touched by it, which sort of makes Nick’s heart grow three sizes.
“I miss you,” Nick says, then bites his lip because he truly hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but David doesn’t miss a beat.
“And I miss you,” he says honestly, innocently, and Nick realizes the way he meant it went completely over David’s head. “Like the desert missed the raaain,” the other boy sings softly, snapping Nick out of his thoughts, and God, Nick’s so gone over him, he really is.
He can hear someone talking in the background, and then David says “Hold… hold on a second” all distractedly, followed by a muffled “Okay, Kendra, I’ll be right there,” and then a clearer “Haha, sorry, hey.”
“You have to go,” Nick says preemptively.
“Yeah,” David confirms, sounding apologetic, and then, “Gosh, I’m nervous,” which makes Nick laugh.
Nick can hear other noises in the background now, various people’s voices and this raucous laughter that he’s pretty sure belongs to David Cook. Suddenly, he misses touring so much he can’t breathe.
“Go get ‘em,” he manages around the lump in his throat.
“I wish you were here,” David replies, then says “Bye” really hurriedly and hangs up before Nick can process the words.
It takes him a while to fall back to sleep.
--
They don’t speak again until after David arrives back in the country. Nick’s kind of worried because he’s pretty sure he was a little too obvious during their last conversation, but the first he hears from David is a voicemail asking how far Del Mar is from Los Angeles, which kind of suggests otherwise. Nick texts back with a string of question marks, and his phone vibrates not thirty seconds later with I’m doing a show at a county fair there at the end of June. You should come hang out haha.
Nick checks his own tour schedule and they’re actually on a break around that time, a realization that makes his heart leap quite ridiculously in his chest. They have five days between their last U.K. show and the kickoff of the North American dates, and he has no idea what they’re doing in the interim but he’ll lobby to fly back to L.A. if he has to. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Del Mar’s like an hour and a half away and Nick bought this sick new car recently, so he figures he’ll go down and show it off.
And if David needs a ride back to the city afterwards, well, he’d be happy to provide one.
--
Nick hasn’t been to a county fair in like, ever. His shiny Mustang looks a tad out of place in the dirt parking lot and he winces to think about what’ll happen if the wind kicks up, but there’s really nothing he can do about it.
He puts his shades on and circumnavigates the fairground, trying to remain inconspicuous while looking for the makeshift stage where David will perform. There’s a gazebo behind it where he was told everyone would be gathering - David himself, the girls from iCarly whose show he apparently guest-starred on (Nick will have to YouTube that), and some of his family members too. Nick remembers doing summer shows like this, small and uncomplicated, before he and his brothers got big. He lowers his shades and says “Nick Jonas” to the guy in charge of security, watching his name get crossed off a list.
The first person Nick sees is Jennette, the only blonde in a sea of dark hair, and a memory stirs within him of David saying his mom is Honduran. He knows Jennette slightly, and she looks up and waves in recognition when she feels his eyes on her.
He’s about to go over and say hi when a short, slender lady about his mom’s age swoops over with her arms out.
“You must be Nicholas!” she exclaims, her lilting accent elongating the first vowel of his name. “I’m Lupe - I’m David’s mother.” She hugs him warmly, her flowery perfume tickling his nostrils.
Nick politely introduces himself and compliments her earrings. He’d figured David’s family would be like him - quiet, soft-spoken, not at all touchy-feely - but when two aunts and a rather starstruck gaggle of cousins approach to welcome and embrace him, he’s forced to drastically rethink his assumption.
David sidles over, seeming even more reserved against the backdrop of his effusive family members. He stops in front of Nick and says “Hey” a little awkwardly, standing there for a beat before leaning in to quickly hug him.
Maybe it’s just because Nick wasn’t expecting it, or maybe it’s ‘cause Nick’s, um… crush is stronger than he thought, but hugging David feels weird to him. David’s so small, first of all, almost a full head shorter than Nick is, and when Nick claps him on the back and squeezes, he can feel the musculature of David’s lithe frame.
David pulls back, smiling shyly from under his lashes, and Nick’s so grateful that Miranda and Jennette are coming over to divert his attention because he feels like he could stare at David all day. If there’s one thing he’s learnt about being in the business, it’s that nobody looks exactly like they do in pictures, and there’s always something extra and surprising that can’t be captured on film. For David, it’s the softness about him: the glow of his skin, the sparkle of his eyes when he smiles.
Nick gets the sinking feeling that he’s in deeper than he thought he was.
--
They watch David from the sidelines, and it’s a real blast for Nick to see him live. He’s such a retiring person offstage, but when he’s performing, he has more presence than Nick knows what to do with. Nick stands and smiles and bops his head to the music, hoping he doesn’t look as bowled over as he feels. David really gets into the songs, throwing his head back and clenching his fists at points of high emotion, and it’s a really hot day, so his cotton shirt clings to his body. His arms are surprisingly muscular - not bulging like Joe’s, but there’s a distinct definition there that suits his slight build. The same goes for his chest, and Nick doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Jennette comes up beside him and says “Wow, he is sooo hot.”
“I guess,” Nick agrees noncommittally, eyes flickering between her and the stage as he fights to keep his tone even.
She eyes him for a few seconds like she’s sizing him up or something, and he’s just starting to feel uncomfortable when she says contemplatively, “I think he likes me.”
Nick clenches his jaw and counts to five before responding. “Oh?”
“Uh-huh.” She nods smugly. “I gave him my number when he shot that episode with us, and now we text each other and stuff.” She leans closer to him, whispering conspiratorially, “He invited me and Miranda to come today, and I think he might ask me out.”
Nick shouldn’t feel as jealous as he does. Like, there is really no reason for the tight knot he suddenly feels in his stomach. God, it’s not as if he thought he was David’s only friend or anything, but somehow the fact that David’s been talking to Jennette all this time feels like a betrayal.
“Well, good luck,” he says stiffly, pointedly returning his focus to David, who is grabbing the hands of some girls in the crowd.
Jennette gets the message and stays quiet.
--
If Nick thought David’s family members were demonstrative with him, that’s nothing compared to the hugs and kisses they shower David with backstage. There’s a flurry of hair-ruffling and cooing, and David staggers out of the encounter with three sets of lip prints on his face. When they finally release him, the rosy hue of a blush is staining both his cheekbones, and he looks at Nick helplessly.
“I love your family,” Nick says honestly, and David laughs.
“I love them too, they’re just kind of, uh… enthusiastic sometimes.” He ducks his head, smiling. “Did you like the show?”
Nick grins. “I thought it was awesome. Hey, um.” He touches his own cheek. “I think your mom and your aunts, uh…”
David’s hand flies to his face. “Oh my gosh, I keep telling them to stop doing that!” he wails, scrubbing at his face with his index finger. “Is that better?”
He kind of half succeeded with the top print, but the rest has smudged into the other two, blurring them into a long stripe of red.
“Uh,” Nick begins tactfully, reaching out as easily as if it were Joe before remembering who he’s dealing with and beginning to pull his hand back.
David reaches up and grabs his wrist. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “I don’t mind.”
Nick smiles weakly, and it occurs to him that maybe he should’ve had that granola bar he stashed in his glove compartment because suddenly his head is spinning and his skin feels hot. He really needs to check his levels.
“All right,” he murmurs, reaching up and pressing his thumb to David’s cheek. David’s skin is really soft - like, girl soft - and his breath stutters a little when Nick touches him. They stare at each other in silence as Nick rubs at the lipstick for what seems like forever.
“I think that’s good,” he says finally, clearing his throat to dispel the roughness in his voice.
David looks like he’s about to say something, but one of his little cousins appears out of nowhere and cannonballs into his side, wrapping her arms around him as she says something Nick doesn’t quite catch. David laughs and replies in Spanish, and the moment is broken.
---<---<---@
Part Two.