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Entry tags:	american idol: fic, flyboys

American Idol Fic: Like Danny and Rusty Do
TITLE: Like Danny and Rusty Do
AUTHOR: Mari
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Michael Johns/David Cook
DISCLAIMER: Not a jot of this is real.
SUMMARY: What, you think that nothing at all managed to happen in Vegas?



David Cook was getting used to the rock star lifestyle. Less with the booze, drugs, and loose women (well, people were starting to throw things onto the stage during his set, and more than a few of those things had made Archuleta turn red around the ears and spin right around again when he had first caught sight of them), more with the long hours, producers who scared him a little bit with how they could be all shiny-plastic and yet still alive, and the music. The music, the music, the music that made the other two worth it. Though the having doors that he wouldn’t have even noticed were there at all this time last year opening up for him didn’t suck. That, and the suddenly being good at things that he never thought that he would have been good at before.

“God damn it,” David said, staring at his hand of blackjack as the dealer gave him an apologetic shrug that even looked as if she meant it and scooped up even more of his money to put into the casino’s bank accounts. Her name was Casey; she had gone faintly bug-eyed upon seeing him and had hurriedly asked him to sign a shot glass when he had first sat down at her table.

“Sorry,” she said. If it were not for the ever-present cameras of her employers hovering in the ceiling above them, David thought that she might have actually pushed some of his money back at him.

Standing behind David and with his hands resting lightly on David’s shoulders--the thing about Michael was that he could do things like that and have absolutely no clue of the effect that he was having on the person who was receiving that attention--Michael let out a full-throated laugh. “That’s my boy,” he said, and slapped David on the back. “Taking Vegas by storm.” So maybe David had done a little trash-talking on the bus while they were pulling into the city limits.

“You are a bad, bad man, Johns,” David said as he stood up from the table and gave Casey an apologetic smile to indicate that, nope, he was done losing for money for now.

“Sorry,” she mouthed at him.

“Yes,” Michael said without a trace of remorse. “Yes, I am.” He pointed to the busy, brightly-colored boxes on the other side of the casino, directly opposite from where all of the real gamblers were doing things that actually required skill. “But look! They have slots. All that you need there is luck.”

“You have no idea how much you can go fuck yourself right now. You would be in awe if you did. It’s epic.”

“What would little Archie do if he heard you using that kind of language?” And Michael threw his arm around David’s shoulders like it was nothing at all; David thought of all of the people who had told him that he was the one who thought that personal space existed for other people and decided that they could all take a flying leap right onto his dick.

David made a disgusted sound and thought about shoving Michael’s arm off of him, but wound up reaching up and taking the hand that Michael was leaving to dangle instead, dragging Michael close and putting his other arm around Michael’s waist instead. It was a fuck of a lot cooler in here than it was outside, but Michael was still wearing nothing more than a thin tee shirt, and David could feel the heat of Michael’s skin against his fingertips. He thought that he felt Michael shiver, too, very slightly, when David increased their contact with each other, but he was probably imagining that.

“Little Archie is not allowed within fifty yards of this place,” David answered. “Little Archie has no idea what I’m saying, unless he has the ears of a bat.” And with the way that he could sense and imitate pitch, that was entirely possible; David paused for a second so that he could calculate Archuleta’s odds of growing up to be a musical superstar versus an outright superhero.

“Little Archie fucking worships you, man, in case you haven’t noticed.” Michael shivered. Maybe the cold was finally fucking getting to him. “He probably has a spider sense that lets him know whatever you’re doing at any given moment, any time of the day. You’re corrupting the poor guy long distance, you bastard.”

David laughed, finally, and shoved Michael away from him. Michael stumbled back a few steps, color rising in his cheeks. It was one of their nights off, so of course he had been drinking, but David could not help but think that that flush had not been there moments before. “What the fuck ever,” David snapped at him. “Do better than me, if you think that you’re so gold.”

*
“God damn it,” David said again less than an hour and a half later. Michael threw back his head and let out that slightly crazed, let’s-set-the-poker-table-on-fire-to-see-what-happens-next laugh that he had sometimes, the one that let David know that Michael was about to do something that would take three years off of a producer’s life and that David would of course be right there with him for the ride. “Is there anything at all that you’re not good at?”

“Being a rock star,” Michael said, and flashed his teeth. “Clearly.” But he was teasing when he said it; he had let David know his plans now that he had convinced 19E not to chain him down to the floor just so that he wouldn’t be able to fuck with David and Archuleta too badly, and they took David’s breath away with their scope. He had been joking only a little when he had asked Michael afterwards if a bid for world domination was also a part of his ten year plan.

“Oh, Johns,” David said in the very sweetest tones that he was capable of. “You really have no idea how much you need to be fucking yourself right now.”

Michael got that flush again. He kept doing that, David made a mental note to himself, and David was going to have to pull him aside and tell him that he was starting to look like a kid at his senior prom confronting for the first time the idea that, yes, he might really have contact with a girl’s secret parts and, yes, it might really be just that amazing, all provided that he managed not to fuck it up.

The very first touch of realization brushed at David’s mind as Michael stood up from the table and gave the dealer that he had managed to charm into eating out of his hand within fifteen minutes his most cocksure grin before gathering up his--way too many--chips. David felt a little bit like a board had just been taken to the back of his head.

“Oh, Cook,” Michael said as he leaned in close. His breath smelled like rum; his pupils were huge. “If you really need to get laid that badly, we can find a way tonight, I promise.”

David let out his breath slowly so that his voice would not shake when he answered, because, come on, Michael had to be fucking with him. Michael fucked with everyone, it was a part of the Great and Powerful Michael Johns Theory of the Universe, that no one was immune, save for the one person who was not directly standing in this picture and was instead represented by the slim golden band on the fourth finger of Michael’s left hand. Her, he didn’t fuck with, except for those ways that David did his very best not to think about.

But Michael was drunk, and Michael wasn’t leaning back and out of David’s personal space even though the poker dealer was staring at them both and probably already mentally composing his breaking news bulletin to TMZ in his head, Michael was giving out every possible signal to indicate that he was willing after David had been thinking for months that he was going to wind up being willing enough for the both of them before this was over.

David really hoped that Archuleta wasn’t a tiny superhero in the making, actually, and that he wasn’t in possession of a special sonar that let him know what David was doing at any given moment, because if that was the case then David’s morning showers had pretty much broken that poor kid for life.

Michael flicked his tongue out to touch at his lower lip. On the other side of the casino, Carly let out a scream of pure triumph as her slot machine started to beep, twiddle, and otherwise announce her win before lighting up with colors normally only seen in LSD dreams. She began to dance in a circle around a supremely bemused Chikezie. Michael leaned back so that he could look over at them and laugh.

David loved Carly. He was still entirely willing to kill her if it should come down to that.

Michael looked back at him. “After all, prostitution’s legal in Nevada,” he continued. His voice had lost that honey-sex rasp. “We’ll figure something out.”

David shoved at Michael’s shoulder, probably harder than he really needed to, and watched as a line drew itself down between Michael’s eyes. “I’m a rock star, right?” David asked Michael. It was his turn to deepen his voice, it was his turn to watch Michael’s entire body react to the difference, it was his turn to curse the fact that it didn’t mean a fucking thing at all if neither of them actually did anything with it. “See if I don’t throw a few C-notes your way.”

Color rose in Michael’s face again. That golden band on his left hand didn’t magically disappear. David turned around and decided that he was going to gamble and drink harder than he ever had before in his life, and he was not going to leave the table until his jeans were fitting decently again.

*
Ordinarily, the great and unshakeable powers that made the American Idol machine move found a way to get them twin suites in every city, one for the guys and one of the girls. It was supposed to encourage bonding, was the idea spoken aloud. It was supposed to keep the wildest of them from getting into too much trouble, was David’s own private theory on the matter, because no one wanted to be the one who inadvertently introduced Archuleta to the reverse cowgirl or something. As for the ladies, well, Brooke wasn’t underaged and was married, but she could still cut a mean disappointed look someone’s way. David had seen her do it.

Somehow, the great and unshakeable powers had broken down in Las Vegas. David could only imagine the (probably literal) heads of poor interns that had gone rolling over that one, and it made him laugh. Everyone was still in the same hotel and even in a row on the same floor, so that David guessed that anything too wild on anyone’s part could easily be heard and mocked the next morning.

Michael was going to get mocked for this. If David had his way on this thing and this thing alone for the rest of his life, Michael was going to get mocked for this as no one had ever been mocked before.

He leaned back against the wall of the hallway outside of his room, hands in his pockets and what he was sure was an amused expression upon his face. Michael, while he was also going through his pockets, did not look nearly so pleased. That was probably because he could not seem to find his room key. This was probably related to the fact that he was blind, stinking drunk.

“Having problems?” David asked mildly.

“Go fuck yourself,” Michael said in a jolly tone. He was hardly slurring his words at all. Michael wasn’t just experienced at drunkenness, he was was accomplished at it, and it showed.

“Since I was thirteen,” David threw back without removing his hands from his pockets. He finally laughed and shook his head. “You are going to be standing in his hallway all night long. Just call downstairs, man, and they’ll give you another key to your room. It’s not like you don’t have a recognizable face.”

“Can’t go down there like this,” Michael muttered to himself. His cellular phone began to ring in his jacket pocket; he gave it an irritable swat and otherwise ignored it. “I’m going to wind up on fucking TMZ again.” David knew what Michael was going to ask of him before Michael even bothered to look up and flash him that grin, just as he knew that he was inevitably going to agree. “Mind if I crash with you tonight? Like old times.”

David rolled his eyes and knew that he still could not manage to make himself seem entirely displeased with the suggestion. “Get your ass in here, you lush.” Michael’s phone began to ring again as David inserted the key into the door and let them both inside. Fuck, David realized as he swatted at the light switch. How he had managed to forget that he was staying in a room with only one bed, he had no idea, but: fuck. David felt blood rising in his cheeks and hurriedly entered the bathroom as Michael finally answered his phone.

David turned on the tap and, forgetting for the second how much he hated to be a cliche, splashed some cold water across his face in order to soothe the blood burning there. He could hear Michael’s voice rising even out there in the room proper; the water wasn’t covering it. Michael sounded like he was trying hard not to yell. It was not the first time that David or damn near everyone else on the tour had heard that tone from him, lately. They all knew who he was talking to when he got it.

Vegas had been on Stacey’s list of cool cities. It was pretty notable that she was not hear, all things considered.

David leaned over the sink, tried to focus on the sound that the water made when it ran, and didn’t come back out again until he heard Michael shut the phone.

“That sounded pleasant,” he said cautiously, because it was always a little bit of a crapshoot trying to guess how Michael was going to be when he got off the phone with Stacey, sad or angry or even trying to laugh it off and pretend that there was nothing wrong. The third was happening with less and less frequency.

Michael shrugged his shoulders, head tilted back and eyes closed. “You know,” he said. “She’s mad because I’m not there, she’s mad because I’m going indie, she’s mad because all of this money is coming in and I’m just telling her to deal with it. I’m not being--” Air quotes. “‘Responsible already, goddamnit.’ She’s just mad.”

It sounded to David like Stacey was well ahead of Michael when it came to realizing what was happening to them, and that what Michael was interpreting as anger was really desperation and fear, but neither did he think that that was a conversation for tonight. Not when Michael was fucking drunk, and David was fucking horny, and this might be a fairly swank hotel, but that didn’t mean that every little thing that they did was not going to be telegraphed right through those walls. David gestured towards the bed. “Whatever, man, just don’t spoon.”

Michael opened his eyes, looked at him. “You’re the one with the personal space issues, dude.”

David batted his eyes and started pulling his shirt over his head as he kicked off his shoes. He thought that he felt Michael watching him, but Michael was back to idly toying with his phone when David’s shirt was off. Even with the better diet and the actual regular exercise, David was a long way from having a six-pack on him, and he started to turn away just slightly as his skin prickled in the room’s cool air. All hotels had to crank up that AC just as hard as they could. David walked over to the thermostat and felt Michael watching him again.

“Do you think that we’re going to make it?”

The question made David turn. He didn’t dare say what he actually thought, so instead he said only, “You’ve had too much to drink, Michael, you’re maudlin. Let it go ‘til morning.” Michael still opened his mouth. David cut him off, “Yeah, we’re going to make it. We’ll stay together for the kids if we have to.”

It took Michael a few seconds to follow David’s train of thought and then he laughed, the way that he had in the casino downstairs. “We could share custody. Archie would understand.”

David couldn’t help but smile as he turned back to bend over the thermostat, just as he couldn’t help but jump when he felt Michael’s hands spanning his bared waist on either side. When Michael’s lips touched the back of his neck, he was lucky that he didn’t jump hard enough to leave his skin behind there in a puddle at his feet.

“What are you doing, Michael?” he asked in a whisper, not turning around.

“Don’t give me a bullshit answer, Dave,” Michael said. David was cold, Michael’s skin was warm, and in the rumble of Michael’s voice against his skin David could already feel himself starting to react. “You know. You know whether Stacey and I are going to make it.”

David sighed. “I guess I do.”

“Yeah.” Michael sounded very tired. His lips touched at David’s neck again. “I guess I do, too.”

David turned around, but didn’t try to remove Michael’s hands from him. A good thing, because Michael’s hands only tightened possessively around his waist. “You need to get some sleep, Mike. You’re not in the right place for this.”

“Stop sounding like a goddamned counselor, Dave, I don’t want it.” And Michael kissed him, hard. He was dehydrated from the booze; his lips were dry. He still tasted like alcohol, and he made a soft, startled noise when David took control of the kiss, sweeping his tongue past Michael’s parted lips and around the inside of his mouth, without giving him a word of warning. David guessed that Michael thought he and David were going to forget Stacey for a while together. He guessed that Michael really had no idea the kind of effect that he had been having on David for, God, so many months now.

Sometimes Michael was a bit of a dick. David didn’t mind.

“Hey,” Michael said when David drew back so that they could take a breath. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s this, now?”

“You dense moron,” David said, not without affection, and kissed Michael again. He still hadn’t managed to fix that thermostat, but he didn’t think that it was going to be a problem from here on out. He walked them both backwards until Michael’s knees struck the bed and he sat down with an oofing noise, David all but sitting in his lap as he followed. “Haven’t you been paying any attention at all?”

Michael started to speak. David stopped him with his hands under Michael’s shirt, pulling it over his head. They had roomed together for months, they had actually seen each other naked before, but never like this. Not in this context. It took David’s breath away. Michael’s famous mouth was still for once, too, as he looked up at David like he thought that maybe David was going to give him a fucking lap dance or something.

Maybe. David would think about it.

“Come on, man, you’re the one who was telling me downstairs that I needed to get laid,” David said.

“I thought that I was going to be watching you with a hooker,” Michael said, and, wow, David would really have loved to digest the realization that Michael would have enjoyed watching him have sex, but the two of them were actually going to have sex from where he was sitting, so. There were certain priorities that needed to be watched here. David kissed Michael again, pushed him back until the two of them were both lying flat.

“Have you ever done this before?” David asked him as he stroked the bare skin of Michael’s belly. Michael shivered, like there was any chance at all that David was going to back down from this before, but sure as shit there wasn’t on now. Michael had an erection showing clearly in the front of his jeans; he still let out a slightly nervous laugh and shook his head.

“Seems like you have, though.”

“Oklahoma might be a fucking red state, but come on,” David said as he kept stroking Michael’s stomach, over and over again, staying well clear of anything that could be called a definite erogenous zone but watching as Michael’s eyes grew darker with lust, and hearing his breath come faster in his throat, every second that passed all the same. “I played in rock clubs for a living. No one is completely straight.”

“I used to think that I was completely straight,” Michael said, and David knew what Michael was thinking: before I met you.

David answered that with a grin. “And the ones who say that they’re totally straight?” he asked. “Oh, hell. They’re the easiest to twist up at all.”

Michael’s eyes went darker than David had seen them go yet at the word twist, and David thought that his jeans were so tight at this point that they just might kill him. Well, that is something that David had not foreseen coming this way at all. He did his best to put it out of his mind, for now, for no other reason than so he would not come in his own jeans right then and there, and listened instead as Michael asked, “So, how are we going to do this?”

“The famous Michael Johns confidence fails him, for once,” David muttered, and reached out to undo Michael’s jeans. The great, full-body shiver that Michael gave was better than any pornography that David possibly could have ordered on the television.

“Fuck you,” Michael said in a pleasant voice. He shuddered again as David, finally, dipped his fingers down low enough to touch Michael’s cock.

“Okay,” David said, and finally grasped Michael. Michael’s hips surged towards him automatically; there was already clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock even though David had only been touching him for a handful of seconds. Michael rolled his eyes at him, and David laughed. “Oh, come on. You had to know what I was going to say.” He undid his own jeans with his free hand, releasing his cock into the air of the room, and guided Michael’s hand to him. Michael gripped him, a little uncertainly at first, but then more boldly when even that made David suck in his breath and swear. “It’s like getting yourself off, just like getting yourself off. I’ll, uh--” Michael must have decided that he had something to prove after that confidence crack, because the long, slow pull that he takes of David’s cock was nearly enough to make David’s eyes roll back in his head. He could already feel that fuck-yeah tension in his balls, the base of his spine. It was going to be like being seventeen all over again.

“Hello, okay, yeah,” David said, and mimicked what Michael was doing. The gasp that Michael gave was almost as good as what Michael himself was doing. “Or you could just keep doing that.”

Michael made a soft sound. Maybe he was trying to laugh, fuck if David knew. “I’m not really a book-learner,” he said.

David inched closer to Michael, pressing them body to body next to one another on the bed, yards and yards of warm skin to counteract the room’s chill. He tugged Michael off and Michael did the same for him while David used his other hand to touch every inch of Michael that he possibly could. His back, his face, the dark trail of hair leading down to his sex, it was all new in this context, and it was all amazing. Every touch of David’s hand on Michael’s body, be it on his cock or somewhere more innocent, made Michael shudder, and those ripples were fascinating to watch, too. David gave himself over completely to everything that he was feeling and only managed not to throw his head back and just ride because he also wanted to see Michael’s face when he came for the first time because David was touching him. His breath was hard and fast in his chest, he was seeing colors at the corners of his vision, Michael just just so good with his fist wrapped tight around David’s cock. David put his own hand over Michael’s so that he could help to guide the rhythm, there, there, there. He made a hoarse sound as he came, hard, across Michael’s hand and belly. It was enough to take David away for several seconds and break the pace that he was setting with Michael. That wouldn’t do; for Michael’s first time, David didn’t just want it to be good. He wanted it to be one for the fucking record books.

“Do you know what you look like right now?” David whispered to Michael, watching Michael’s face as Michael closed his eyes and hissed from between clenched teeth. There was a high flush of color in Michael’s entire face, and he was arching his body towards David like he was going to die if David ever stopped doing what he was doing. The post-orgasm glow was already fading from David’s body, but he thought that it would not be long at all before he was ready for Round Two, the way that Michael kept looking like that. Maybe he was underestimating himself when he thought that his days of horniness that would have made a teenager proud were behind him.

Michael finally gave one huge shudder from his head down to his feet as David kept stroking him, grabbing David’s wrist hard. He came in ropy spurts and amidst a hoarse cry, before burying his face against David’s neck. “Oh, God,” he whispered. “Oh, God, oh, God, Dave, that was--” Michael broke himself off willingly. It was all right; the tone of his voice told David perfectly well that it was a good kind of speechlessness.

“Hang on a minute,” David said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and went to the bathroom long enough to get a damp cloth so that they could clean themselves up. The way that Michael watched him when he returned was enough to bring a flush up David’s skin and a fluttering feeling to David’s stomach. It wasn’t going to be about sex alone. How he knew this, mere moments after their first encounter, but he knew. Fuck, the internet would go insane if only they knew this, and for a second it was all that David could do not to giggle.

“You look like the Joker,” Michael said, but caught the cloth that David threw at his face and used it to clean up his hand and belly. “So. That was.” David leaned down and kissed him. “Yeah. It was that.” He shivered. “Cold room.”

“Get under the blankets, it’ll be warmer.” Michael obliged, and David got in after him, so that they were a pair of warm bodies pressed thigh to thigh and belly to belly, their faces close against one another. “Hey, there,” David said as he and Michael took a few minutes to simply relearn each other’s faces, in this new place.

A smile quirked up the edge of Michael’s mouth. “Hey.”

“Cheaper than a hooker.”

The smile turned into a--holy fuck, Michael just giggled. “I’m not sure that I like that comparison.”

David shrugged without feeling apologetic. “Can’t help it if you’re promiscuous.”

Michael shoved at his shoulder. “Now see if you’re ever going to get it again.”

David didn’t answer, let his grin speak for him. Neither one of them wanted to get up to hit the lights, so they dozed off with them still on, David last, listening to the sounds that Michael made as he breathed.

End