
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/308569.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      American_Idol_RPF
  Relationship:
      David_Archuleta/David_Cook
  Character:
      David_Cook, David_Archuleta
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Dubious_Consent, Hand_Jobs, Growing_Up, Sexual
      Experimentation
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-31 Words: 4441
****** Howl ******
by carolion
Summary
     David can’t understand how Cook came into his life like that and
     completely changed everything he’d ever been told was right and wrong
     with just a single touch.
Notes
     Lyrics belong to Florence + the Machine's Howl.

               If you could only see the beast you've made of me
           I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
                Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart
          Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart
                                       *
David can’t understand how Cook came into his life like that and completely
changed everything he’d ever been told was right and wrong with just a single
touch. He can’t control the way he feels anymore, and it makes him helpless, a
slave to his own needs, needs he never knew he had before Cook. He hates it, in
a way, but he can’t imagine living without it now.
It started after Top Twelve, the first Beatles night. David was so disappointed
in himself for screwing up We Can Work it Out; it wasn’t even about the judges
or the fans or anything (although yeah, that too), but just the way it felt to
open his mouth and go blank. It was awful, and he hadn’t really wanted to talk
to anyone after the show, too anxious and frustrated to pull off polite
interest and bob his head to their encouraging words. He’d even been upset
enough to blow off his dad (well, sort of), asking for just a few hours by
himself. He just – left, went straight to his room and tried to empty out his
mind. It hadn’t worked that well, and he was left wondering if he’d messed up
bad enough to get voted off the show, or if his previous performances would be
enough to carry him on or-
“Hey,” David Cook said from the doorway. David hadn’t even heard him knock, but
he jerked up quickly and turned, feeling weirdly defensive.
“Hi,” he had answered cautiously, unsure. Cook had glanced around and then
stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him casually. David felt his
shoulders tense up even more. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Cook – Cook was
pretty cool, actually, even though he did tease David about being a ladies man
or whatever, but being alone in a room with him seemed – dangerous for some
reason, and the hairs on the back of David’s neck were standing up a little
bit.
“How are you doing?” Cook asked, drifting closer to the bed where David was
seated. David stared up at him apprehensively. Of course Cook had done great
that night, like, so good, and Simon had even said that Cook could win it all,
based on talent alone rather than popularity, and David felt weirdly like that
comment had been directed at him, too – like there was no way he’d win based on
talent alone, and it made something in his throat close up. (Not that blamed
Cook for being talented, gosh, no just – it stung.)
“Fine,” David said slowly, tilting his head, “just – frustrated I guess. It
wasn’t – I wasn’t –“ he tried, but the words wouldn’t come out (just like
before, just like on stage, his mind chanted, and he frowned to himself).
He expected Cook to give him a pat on the shoulder and tell him some lame
platitude about how everyone has a bad night or whatever, but Cook just sighed
heavily and plopped down next to David, close enough that their arms were
brushing.
“Yeah. I know.” Cook said, and then smiled at David. David swallowed nervously,
a little intimidated by how close their faces were. Didn’t Cook like, know what
personal space was? (Except, no, Cook never had understood that, not with
anyone.)
“You know what I think?” Cook asked, and David closed his eyes, trying to find
some patience. Here it comes, he thought, and braced himself for whatever
‘wisdom’ Cook was going to impart on him.
He didn’t expect Cook to lean closer, his mouth brushing over David’s ear as
his hand reached around to touch David’s hip gently.
“I think you need to relax,” Cook murmured, and David could – David could feel
his lips moving against the shell of his ear, and his lips were soft and his
breath tickled a little, and he could feel Cook’s fingers on his skin, rubbing
a little. His breath hitched and he nearly flailed backwards in surprise.
What did Cook mean ‘relax’?
“What do you mean?” He asked, hating how his voice sounded so breathless. “I –
I relax.”
“Dude. You’re totally tense.” Cook’s smile was fond. “Don’t you ever-” and then
Cook’s hand slid down and suddenly his palm was cupping David through his pants
and David definitely couldn’t breathe, “-touch yourself?” Cook’s voice was
deadly soft and intimate in his ear, and David was frozen.
He didn’t – he wasn’t allowed to – and sure, maybe on accident once or twice,
but he never did that, it was wrong, and usually it was just easier to like,
think of something else until it went away. Sometimes it happened for no reason
though, and that was always frustrating. This time though - this time, he could
feel himself getting hard under Cook’s hand. He squeaked a little, ashamed and
embarrassed.
Cook chuckled. “It’s okay,” he soothed, and stroked a little with his thumb,
which made David make an even more embarrassing sound, more like a whine or
something. Cook didn’t seem to care though. “Have you? Ever touched yourself?”
David shook his head miserably. He felt Cook’s hand on his neck, then on his
cheek and then Cook guided him so they were staring at each other. Cook smiled
and David stared, unable to help noticing how pretty Cook’s eyes were, how the
shape of his smile made David’s heart beat a little faster.
“Awesome,” Cook breathed, and then leaned in and kissed David. David did flail
then, his hands flying up to grab Cook’s arms tightly as he made a surprised,
muffled sound against Cook’s lips. He’d never been kissed before, and he leaned
away automatically, but Cook’s mouth was firm and insistent, and he found
himself clinging to Cook, trembling as he was kissed. He didn’t know what to do
but it felt sort of – nice, which he knew it was supposed to feel nice he just
hadn’t expected it to feel this nice, and Cook’s lips were really soft and
David was shivering a little and these warm washes of heat kept crashing
through his body. David stopped leaning away and let Cook hold him, and he
sighed, just a little, parting his mouth and dragging in a breath, but Cook did
something with the angle of his head and then his tongue was in David’s mouth
and suddenly everything was really hot and he wasn’t just warm and shivery, he
was tingling and felt desperate, and his hips kept jerking up against the
pressure of Cook’s hand, helpless and wanting.
Embarrassed, he broke away with a whimper, turning his face and gasping,
closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Cook’s face. But then Cook’s hand
was on his chin and forcing his face back towards Cook.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Cook soothed, and David opened his eyes warily, still
panting a little. Cook’s face looked kind, and he was smiling a little, and
David felt himself relax because Cook’s smile always made him feel better, even
on results nights, even after a bad rehearsal, or when he was stressing out
over what song to pick. Only now Cook was making him feel better about… well,
about whatever they were doing.
“You really have never done this before, huh,” Cook asked, but it wasn’t really
a question. He sounded thoughtful, and curious. David flushed and shook his
head numbly, but he tightened his grip on Cook’s sleeves when Cook started to,
um, pet him again.
“Can I show you?” Cook asked breathily against David’s neck. His beard
scratched along his skin and it made his skin hum distractingly. “Am I allowed?
Will you let me?” And David couldn’t think, so he nodded, and shuddered in
Cook’s arms.
Cook kissed the underside of his jaw and eased them both back until they were
laying on the bed next to each, warm and close and comfortable. He unbuttoned
David’s pants just enough to slide his hand in, and David’s breath hitched as
Cook wrapped his hand around David’s erection, giving it an easy, slow stroke.
It was a good thing they were laying down, David thought hazily, because he was
pretty sure that skin on skin contact rendered his limbs useless. Cook smiled a
little, and stroked a little faster, running his thumb over the crown of
David’s cock every now and then, and David whimpered.
He actually whimpered, and his arms tensed and he didn’t know what to do. It
felt so good, but there was this urgency in his gut that made him want to curl
up on himself, a tension zinging in his body that told him more and faster and
harder, because it wasn’t enough. Cook was fumbling with his pants again,
pushing them down around his thighs and exposing him completely so his hand
wasn’t trapped by the material. It was so – David’s pulse had jumped, and his
hips flexed and twitched, thrusting minutely into the tight circle of Cook’s
grip.
“That’s it,” Cook groaned, nuzzling at David’s soft t-shirt as his had slid
smoothly over David’s erection. “God, yes, there you go.” David felt Cook’s –
um, well Cook had sort of nestled up against him, and he was pressed really
firmly on his side against David’s leg, and David could feel his erection and
it was sort of – it was sort of hard to breathe. To know that – to know that
Cook was aroused by this, by touching David like this.
“Cook I can’t,” he whined, arching his back a little. The urgency inside of him
had coiled even tighter and it was the worst thing and the best thing he’d ever
felt in his life. “Please,” he begged, and threw an arm over his face so he
didn’t have to hear his own sobs of need.
“Okay, okay,” Cook said softly, and slid down David’s body a little, pushing
David’s shirt up so Cook could press soft kisses against his stomach and his
ribs and his hipbones. Every touch felt like a spark, and David felt his skin
yearning for Cook’s touch. Cook reached down and cupped David’s balls gently,
holding them and squeezing gently as his other hand increased it’s pace. It was
slick and fast and noisy, a loud wet noise that sounded obscene in the quiet of
the hotel room, a staccato beat punctuated by David’s embarrassingly loud
whimpers and gasps.
“Wait, wait!” he burst out when Cook’s fingers curled cleverly and touched a
spot behind his balls, because he felt his stomach jump and everything started
rushing hard, but it was too late and he felt his cock jerk hard in Cook’s grip
and he was coming.
The orgasm hit him like a freight train and he curled up over himself, Cook’s
hand still working him firmly, and he felt like he couldn’t see because of the
bright white spots dancing in front of his eyes. It left him breathless and
gasping, still keening from the pleasure wracking his body.
It took a few minutes for him to wind down, bells still ringing in his ears.
His limbs were trembling, and Cook was patting his back comfortingly. But – it
was so – it was like a normal pat on the back, like a ‘good song Archie’ kind
of pat on the back, so impersonal compared to the way Cook’s hand had felt on
his member, hot and tight and perfect, and so so intimate.
“How do you feel?” Cook asked, low and sexy and curious, right into his ear.
David raised a shaky hand to his face, felt the dampness there and realized the
shock of his first real, intentional orgasm had actually brought tears to his
eyes without him realizing. He wiped them way quickly, blinking away the
wetness.
“Tired,” David whispered, and it was true. He felt drained, and he was still
trembling a little. He was sticky – it made him blush. Cook laughed a little
and kissed his cheek before sitting up.
“Try to get some sleep before tomorrow,” Cook suggested, like it was – like
nothing had changed, like he was trying to be the older brother figure or
something, as if he hadn’t just –
“Okay. Yeah. Um,” David hesitated, lifting his eyes cautiously to Cook’s.
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. Cook laughed again, throwing his head back, and
David didn’t know how to feel.
Cook’s face was still happy and open when he turned to grin at David. “You’re
very welcome.” David couldn’t help but notice he was still – he still had a –
he hadn’t whatever yet. There was a part of him that wanted to ask if he could
help Cook with that, but he was too terrified, and locked his jaw, afraid of
saying anything.
“See you tomorrow Arch,” Cook said gently, fondly, and then he was out the
door, like nothing had changed when everything had changed.
                                       *
               Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack
          My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out
           The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
         I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground
                                       *
David was tense all the way through the results show. For some reason the
producers kept making him sing with Cook, and dance next to Cook, and sit next
to Cook, and all David could think about was how he smelled, how warm he was,
the way he’d touched him, and it was making him a nervous wreck besides just
worrying about the results.
Cook was safe, obviously. David knew he was going to be, and smiled and clapped
when Cook sighed happily and sat down on the couch again. But it was making him
feel tight and anxious again, and he couldn’t focus as Syesha sang, wondering
if he’d be safe, be in the bottom three, or going home. It’s – he wasn’t
panicked. Nervous, yes, stressed, yes, but not panicked. He tried to stay
positive, but there was a cold pit of dread in his stomach that only got
heavier and heavier as the night wore on, until he was in the last group of
contestants to be called over by Ryan.
No one wanted to go home, and he didn’t want anyone to go home, but he couldn’t
– it couldn’t be him. Every time he made it another step further he couldn’t
believe it, but at the same time he knew it wasn’t his time to leave the show
yet. He stood stock still next to Brooke on stage, eyes dull and unfocused as
Ryan’s voice washed over him in.
“You’re safe,” Ryan said, and crowd cheered, but all he heard was a low buzzing
sound as he turned and hugged Brooke automatically. His legs felt wobbly, and
he must have had a dazed look on his face when he drew away from her, because
she squeezed his arms and said “Go sit down” kindly to him, directing him
towards the couches, back to David Cook.
Cook slapped the seat next to him, a wide grin on his face, but David couldn’t
bear to be that close to him, not when he already felt so shaky, not when he
was afraid he might turn his face into Cook’s neck and look for an anchor in
all this craziness, someone to soothe his singing nerves. And the way Cook had
relaxed him, last night, wrenching the orgasm from him, drawing out words he’d
never said before, making his body feel things he’d never felt before, was
still too fresh in his mind, making him ache, making him squirm, so he tried to
lean away and keep his distance.
But then Brooke was announced safe and she walked over to sit next to him,
forcing him to slide into the seat right next to Cook. It was awful, holding
himself so stiffly, afraid of relaxing, afraid of turning his head to catch a
glimpse of Cook’s profile. He tried to keep his eyes down, or on the center of
the stage, but they caught Cook’s hand clasped in his lap and he couldn’t help
but wonder if after Cook had left his room last night, if he had gone back to
the room he shared with Michael and jerked off, in his bed, or in the shower,
and what he had thought about. Whether or not he’d thought about David,
thinking about David doing that to him, or something else that David didn’t
even know, or maybe it had nothing to do with David at all and it was just the
endorphins that got him – excited, and if he relieved himself by thinking about
a girl, about – about touching her, kissing her, and David felt hot and ashamed
and sick, because it made him jealous.
He had to sit through David (the other David, the third David)’s send off
dinner, trying to pick a seat far away from Cook and as close as possible to
his father, who sat and smiled and clapped after everyone gave a little speech
about David H. and even nudged David to get up and say something. He didn’t
remember what he said. It was a mass of fumbling words and accidental jokes
that everyone laughed at and it was fine, he guessed. He just wanted to get
away, and have this night to try and forget what had happened the night before.
But of course as he was trying to leave, to go up to his room and lay down on
the bed and pretend everything was okay and not crazy, Cook grabbed him by the
arm and reeled him around.
“I told you you’d be fine,” Cook said, smiling. David stared back, a deer in
the headlights. Cook’s fingers were tight and firm, but not painful, and it
reminded him – “Just remember to relax, okay?” Cook winked, and David flushed,
pulling away until Cook let his grip break and David could walk - walk, not
run, not matter how much he wanted to – away.
                                       *
              Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers
              Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
            A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night
            May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright
                                       *
He tried not to think about it. He tried to think about anything but what had
happened with Cook, but it seemed to haunt him. The smallest thing, like
putting on his clothes would remind him of the way Cook touched him, the sweep
of his fingers along David’s skin and David found himself hard and blushing and
yearning for the feel of Cook again. It was like a fire had been lit inside of
him, and he didn’t know how to sate it. He wanted so much, so many things he
didn’t even have a name for. Some days he would look at Cook and crave him.
It was completely throwing him off his game. He couldn’t concentrate on
anything but the dark heat inside of him, and finally he couldn’t take it, the
constant phantom touches he swore he could feel on his body in the worst
possible moments, how he couldn’t talk down his erections anymore, so stubborn
and insistent now that he knew, he knew what it was like to have relief. He
started to touch himself in the shower, closing his eyes and resting his
forehead against the slick tile as he stroked himself as fast and hard as
possible, trying to just get it over with. To his shame it was good, it was so
good, and he always came, gasping as the hot water from the shower washed over
him, washing away the evidence of his sinful self-indulgence. It couldn’t wash
away the guilt, however, and it never seemed to feel as good or as satisfying
when Cook did it to him.
He wanted. And wanted. And it ate at him from the inside out, until he wasn’t
just jerking off in the shower any more, but turning over in bed, away from
Chikezie and his dad to slip his hand beneath his pajama bottom and stroke,
biting his lip, his hand, the pillow just to keep quiet as his hips jerked
erratically and he tried to keep his movements undetectable. It was shameful,
but all he could picture was Cook doing everything to him, and doing things to
Cook too. He hadn’t even been able to participate, really, too shocked and
nervous to do much more than suck in shaky breaths and moan, his limbs like
jelly by the end. And he really wanted to touch Cook. He needed him – he needed
him so much.
It only took two weeks of bringing himself off and feeling empty and
unsatisfied as he fantasized about Cook’s hands and Cook’s mouth and Cook’s
body pressing him down before he finally worked up the courage to grab the
other contestant by his wrist and pull him aside.
“I need to ask you something,” David blurted out as soon as they were alone.
Cook tilted his head a little, curiously arching one eyebrow.
“Okay – Archie, why are we in a closet?” He asked, tapping the closed door
gently.
“Because it’s embarrassing! I need – it’s private.” David knew his eyes were
huge and wide, and when Cook looked down at him, he stopped grinning so wide
and his face sobered.
“Alright, I’m sorry. You can ask me anything Arch, go ahead.”
David took a breath and then stepped closer to Cook. They were already standing
pretty close together – the linen closet wasn’t exactly a walk-in, but now he
was pressed right up against Cook, close enough to feel his body heat. He
shivered and looked up, right into Cook’s confused, wary looking face.
“You told me I needed to learn to relax, right?” David asked, watching
carefully as understanding dawned on Cook’s face. “And I tried Cook, I really
did,” he promised, his voice wavering a little. “I didn’t want to be this way
but – but I don’t even know what I’m doing, only that I can’t stop. And I want
more.” He flushed, closing his eyes, embarrassed because he was already a
little hard, and it was difficult not to rub up against Cook’s strong thigh.
“I need you to – I need you to touch me again. I need to touch you. Please,
Cook.” He rose to the balls of his feet, putting his hands on Cook’s shoulders
and leaning close enough that if he were to lick his lips, he’d lick Cook’s
lips as well, but he didn’t kiss yet, just stayed there, waiting nervously for
some kind of reaction.
Cook took a sharp breath and stumbled back a little until he back banged
against the shelves filled with towels. David nearly lost his balance and
almost crashed into Cook’s chest, flailing his hands out just in time to catch
himself. Cook reached out too, steadying David as he tried to regain his
equilibrium.
“Oh no, Archie…” Cook started, shaking his head. His eyes were wide, and he was
panting a little. He hadn’t taken his hands off of David, his fingertips
burning into the flesh at David’s hipbones. “I didn’t mean – it was just a one-
time thing. I was just trying to get you to relax, we really shouldn’t –“
David saw the way his pupils seemed to dilate though, and how his breathing
increased when David licked his lips, and his hands were so gentle but so, so
intimate as they curved around his sides. David bravely leaned up again.
“Please, Cook, I need it. I need you. I can’t – I can’t stop thinking about it,
and I’ve tried so hard to be normal, but it’s not enough,” he begged, clutching
at Cook’s shirt, and Cook groaned, a low, broken sound, and suddenly his hands
were sliding up David’s back and tugging him closer.
“Okay,” Cook breathed against his mouth, nuzzling at David’s cheek. David’s
heart jumped and started to race. “Okay, jesus, yes Archuleta, yes.”
He bit his tongue against the thank you that wanted to spill out and just held
on as Cook finally, finally kissed him. It was just as shocking as before, and
just as hot. Cook’s mouth was rough and needy against his, and David couldn’t
do anything but whimper and open to him, feeling that heat rise in his body and
wrap around him until he couldn’t do anything but want and feel, and desire.
“I want to touch you this time,” David murmured against Cook’s mouth as they
broke for air. Cook had David pressed up against the closet door, pinning his
wrists to the wood as he devoured his mouth. Cook stared down at him, his lips
pink and wet, shiny from spit. He rolled his hips a little and David had to
swallow an embarrassing noise at the feel of Cook’s erection shoved up against
his body.
“Is that right?” Cook breathed, letting go of David’s wrists to sink his
fingers into David’s hair, tilting his head to mouth along his jaw and neck.
“What else do you want?”
David squirmed, panting harshly as he pawed clumsily at Cook’s pants, scared
and shaky and inexperienced but so so desperate.
“Everything,” he gasped out, “everything, anything, but you have to – you have
to show me. You have to teach me.” He glanced into Cook’s eyes, shy and
embarrassed because this was all new to him, and no matter how badly the fire
burned inside of him, he still didn’t know what he was doing, and he needed
Cook to show him.
Cook framed his face in his hands, staring into David’s eyes. His gaze was dark
and hungry and it made David flush hot again, precariously close to losing
control.
“Okay,” Cook agreed finally, leaning forward to kiss David long and hot and
slow, drawing it out as his hands made quick work of David’s pants. “Okay,
okay, I’ll teach you what you need to know. I’ll give you exactly what you
need.”
It was everything that David needed to hear, and he arched in Cook’s grasp and
let himself tumble headfirst into ecstasy.
                                       *
               If you could only see the beast you've made of me
           I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
           The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
         I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground
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