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The One Time Nothing Happened
[Pre-slash] [American Idol] [David Archuleta/David Cook] [G]
Inspired by this post. ETA: AND ALSO, THIS STORY NOW HAS ART BECAUSE![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scoop_k IS MADE OF FUCKING WIN, AND. JUST. IT'S UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE I WANTED TO POST IT IN ALL ITS BIG, BEAUTIFUL, ORIGINAL-SIZED GLORY. AORIEFHW(#OIRJFEWHR*OIKLWQEADSFIU@R(*IURT$*()WIFKELSA!!!!!!!11111
The One Time Nothing Happened
byscoop_k, who is, like, a fucking goddess. only better.
It feels to Cook like he's only just stumbled into bed, high on life and doing the Hollywood thing and having one or four too many rounds of alcohol, when his phone rings. Judging from the extra leaden weight in his head, though, it's probably been closer to a couple of hours.
Cook considers letting the call go to voice mail, but the phone's singing do you catch your breath when I look at you? like a goddamn full-on band practice in an empty auditorium, and Cook snarls under his breath as he picks up. Goddamn Michael and his goddamn ring tones. "What?"
"Oh my gosh," the phone says. Its voice is strangely high-pitched, colored with something that sounds vaguely like relief.
"Mmmf," Cook grumbles, into his pillow. Then it clicks. "Archie?"
"Oh my gosh," David repeats. He sounds like he might've been crying, and Cook pushes himself up immediately and swipes a rough hand over his face. "Cook, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I just - they said I could only get one phone call and no one else is picking up, and if I call my parents they're going to be so mad--"
"Archie." Cook pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's, like, two in the morning, man. Of course no one else is gonna..." he pauses, then, and David's silence is suddenly deafening. "Dave," he says, slowly. "One phone c--where are you?"
"Um," David says. His voice is small and tinny over the line, and Cook is suddenly wide awake.
"Fuck," he swears. "Jesus fucking Christ, David."
"Please don't tell my dad," David moans. "He's totally going to flip out. But nothing even happened, I promise; it was all--"
"Just tell me where the station is," Cook snaps. Concern shapes his tone, but anger makes it too-sharp, and Cook hears it when David's breathing hitches. "I'll pick you up."
Inspired by this post. ETA: AND ALSO, THIS STORY NOW HAS ART BECAUSE
scoop_k IS MADE OF FUCKING WIN, AND. JUST. IT'S UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE I WANTED TO POST IT IN ALL ITS BIG, BEAUTIFUL, ORIGINAL-SIZED GLORY. AORIEFHW(#OIRJFEWHR*OIKLWQEADSFIU@R(*IURT$*()WIFKELSA!!!!!!!11111The One Time Nothing Happened
by
scoop_k, who is, like, a fucking goddess. only better.It feels to Cook like he's only just stumbled into bed, high on life and doing the Hollywood thing and having one or four too many rounds of alcohol, when his phone rings. Judging from the extra leaden weight in his head, though, it's probably been closer to a couple of hours.
Cook considers letting the call go to voice mail, but the phone's singing do you catch your breath when I look at you? like a goddamn full-on band practice in an empty auditorium, and Cook snarls under his breath as he picks up. Goddamn Michael and his goddamn ring tones. "What?"
"Oh my gosh," the phone says. Its voice is strangely high-pitched, colored with something that sounds vaguely like relief.
"Mmmf," Cook grumbles, into his pillow. Then it clicks. "Archie?"
"Oh my gosh," David repeats. He sounds like he might've been crying, and Cook pushes himself up immediately and swipes a rough hand over his face. "Cook, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I just - they said I could only get one phone call and no one else is picking up, and if I call my parents they're going to be so mad--"
"Archie." Cook pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's, like, two in the morning, man. Of course no one else is gonna..." he pauses, then, and David's silence is suddenly deafening. "Dave," he says, slowly. "One phone c--where are you?"
"Um," David says. His voice is small and tinny over the line, and Cook is suddenly wide awake.
"Fuck," he swears. "Jesus fucking Christ, David."
"Please don't tell my dad," David moans. "He's totally going to flip out. But nothing even happened, I promise; it was all--"
"Just tell me where the station is," Cook snaps. Concern shapes his tone, but anger makes it too-sharp, and Cook hears it when David's breathing hitches. "I'll pick you up."