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Entry tags:
Fic: Your Body is a Wonderland
Title: Your Body is a Wonderland
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Cook/Archuleta
Word Count: 521
Rating: PG-13 for implied sexy times
Summary: He looked down to where Cook’s head was pillowed on his chest, right arm wrapped around David’s torso, the other resting among their pillows.
Author's Notes: I'm really not sure where this came from. :\ Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
18coda theme of nocturne: a quiet, lyrical piece often with pensive, dreamy mood. As always, concrit is much appreciated. :)
David opened his eyes slowly, blinking lazily in the soft silver light seeping through the window around the blinds, unsure what had woken him. It was one of those rare weeks wherein not only were he and Cook home at the same time but also neither of them had anywhere to be. They could (and probably would) lay around in bed all week, only leaving its warmth to forage for food and other necessities.
He looked down to where Cook’s head was pillowed on his chest, right arm wrapped around David’s torso, the other resting among their pillows. Tufts of Cook’s hair were standing on end, defying gravity in new and weird angles. David stroked his free hand through it, attempting to tame it into some semblance of order. Reasonably satisfied with his success, David resumed his admiration of the other’s sleeping form.
Cook’s face was slack with sleep. His mouth, usually set in a perpetual grin, was open slightly, quiet snores breaking the silence at steady intervals. The crinkles around his eyes from Cook’s constant laughter were still visible, yet somehow smoother. David really loved Cook’s eyes, the way they were expressive and beautiful and lit up at the mention of music or his family or the nuances of the English language.
After pressing a light kiss to Cook’s forehead, David slide his gaze down the prone form, lingering on Cook’s partially visible tattoos, stopping briefly to admire the eagle before moving on to the green 14 on his right forearm. That one was his favorite- the numeric representation of their names in his favorite color, forever imprinted on Cook, a silent testament of Cook’s feelings for all to see. David traced a finger over the number before continuing his perusal of the sleeping man in his arms.
He moved his hand to where his eyes lingered on Cook’s back. He could still see the faint marks left by his blunt nails earlier that night, when they’d fallen into their bed almost immediately after being united. He smoothed an apologetic hand over the scratches, making a mental note to kiss each scrape “better” later, even though he was sure Cook would protest that he liked the marks. His hand stopped when it encountered the deep red sheet that was resting a little bit above Cook’s waist, hiding the pale skin of Cook’s butt (secretly one of David’s favorite parts of Cook, not that he would ever tell the other man that!), though perfectly accentuating said body part.
“I can hear you thinking,” Cook’s sleep heavy voice interrupted David’s musings, his reddish stubble rubbing across David’s chest as he spoke. “Either share or go back to sleep.”
David smiled down at the other man who still had his eyes stubbornly closed before pressing another kiss to his forehead. “It was nothing important. Go back to sleep, Cook.”
Cook murmured his agreement with this plan and snuggled closer to David. Moments later the snoring began again. David shook his head, amused with his husband. “I love you,” he whispered before closing his own eyes and following the older man back into slumber.
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing: Cook/Archuleta
Word Count: 521
Rating: PG-13 for implied sexy times
Summary: He looked down to where Cook’s head was pillowed on his chest, right arm wrapped around David’s torso, the other resting among their pillows.
Author's Notes: I'm really not sure where this came from. :\ Written for the
18coda theme of nocturne: a quiet, lyrical piece often with pensive, dreamy mood. As always, concrit is much appreciated. :)David opened his eyes slowly, blinking lazily in the soft silver light seeping through the window around the blinds, unsure what had woken him. It was one of those rare weeks wherein not only were he and Cook home at the same time but also neither of them had anywhere to be. They could (and probably would) lay around in bed all week, only leaving its warmth to forage for food and other necessities.
He looked down to where Cook’s head was pillowed on his chest, right arm wrapped around David’s torso, the other resting among their pillows. Tufts of Cook’s hair were standing on end, defying gravity in new and weird angles. David stroked his free hand through it, attempting to tame it into some semblance of order. Reasonably satisfied with his success, David resumed his admiration of the other’s sleeping form.
Cook’s face was slack with sleep. His mouth, usually set in a perpetual grin, was open slightly, quiet snores breaking the silence at steady intervals. The crinkles around his eyes from Cook’s constant laughter were still visible, yet somehow smoother. David really loved Cook’s eyes, the way they were expressive and beautiful and lit up at the mention of music or his family or the nuances of the English language.
After pressing a light kiss to Cook’s forehead, David slide his gaze down the prone form, lingering on Cook’s partially visible tattoos, stopping briefly to admire the eagle before moving on to the green 14 on his right forearm. That one was his favorite- the numeric representation of their names in his favorite color, forever imprinted on Cook, a silent testament of Cook’s feelings for all to see. David traced a finger over the number before continuing his perusal of the sleeping man in his arms.
He moved his hand to where his eyes lingered on Cook’s back. He could still see the faint marks left by his blunt nails earlier that night, when they’d fallen into their bed almost immediately after being united. He smoothed an apologetic hand over the scratches, making a mental note to kiss each scrape “better” later, even though he was sure Cook would protest that he liked the marks. His hand stopped when it encountered the deep red sheet that was resting a little bit above Cook’s waist, hiding the pale skin of Cook’s butt (secretly one of David’s favorite parts of Cook, not that he would ever tell the other man that!), though perfectly accentuating said body part.
“I can hear you thinking,” Cook’s sleep heavy voice interrupted David’s musings, his reddish stubble rubbing across David’s chest as he spoke. “Either share or go back to sleep.”
David smiled down at the other man who still had his eyes stubbornly closed before pressing another kiss to his forehead. “It was nothing important. Go back to sleep, Cook.”
Cook murmured his agreement with this plan and snuggled closer to David. Moments later the snoring began again. David shook his head, amused with his husband. “I love you,” he whispered before closing his own eyes and following the older man back into slumber.
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And I'm glad to see you writing more of this pairing :D
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I'm seriously blushing right now. I've never gotten this kind of reaction to/support for my writing as I have in this fandom. Thank you. :)
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I'm so glad you liked it! Thank you for reading. ♥
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I'm glad the tone worked for you since I've never had any practical experience in this matter. ;) I had originally written that Cook was his boyfriend at the beginning of the fic but when I got to the end, it just didn't feel right; the intimacy of the story was deeper than what the word "boyfriend" conveys to me, if that makes sense. :)
And again, THANK YOU for reading. ♥
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*feels all mushy and happy*
THANK YOU.
THAT WAS GORGEOUS.
*becomes a puddle of goo*
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