scout.

While singing was Pierre's niche, the whole set up for the select choir was not.

2009-09-11T02:03:18Z

Title: I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good (6/?)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17 Eventually.
POV: 3rd.
Summary: Eighteen year old Pierre Bouvier's perfect world of potential stardom comes to a crashing halt when his ego over-inflates and is kicked out of the only thing he had going good in his life: his band Reset. They disband and the former singer is tossed back into high school where he comes to the realization that no one wants to befriend a washed up wannabe rock star...except, oddly, the most popular group of kids in College Beaubois. Under one condition. He needs to pass a test to make sure he's worthy: nail the biggest loser of the school before prom night; David Desrosiers.
Disclaimer: Not real, wish they were, blah blah blah, etc etc.
Dedication: This one goes out to my bffl kristen aka simpleplan for keeping me sane. xoxo.
Author's Note: I know I just get the same readers over and over (which I certainly don't mind) but if you're just skimming through fics, you should really try checking this out and leaving a comment sometime. I'm sorry if it sounds so cliche, but I'd love new readers and I'd hope more people would be interested.
Previous Chapters: one / two / three / four / five

This don't mean that you own me. This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell, but things worked out just like you wanted too. If you see me out, you don't know me. Try to turn your head, try to give me some room to figure out just what I'm going to do. Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do. It's best if we all keep this quiet instead and I couldn't tell why everyone here was doing me like they do...but I'm sorry now and I don't know how to get it back to good.
- Matchbox 20

It seemed like such an obvious set up: the honors classes next to the lockers that the students that attended them used. Pierre didn't really think about it, but it made sense going over that in his head as he walked down the stairway and across the hall to where the honors classes were located.

Just as he suspected, David was there at his locker...an hour before school started.

Okay, so he definitely beat Patrick at the whole 'Who's The Bigger Dork?' competition Pierre was debating in his head if he liked to come to school so early every day.

Halting his steps, he was still a fairly decent distance away from the other boy and he took a moment to check him out. David was sitting on the floor, back against his locker and a notebook perched in his lap. His mouth was moving but no sound could be heard, so Pierre assumed he was reading something. It was endearing almost, the way he mouthed along to the words he read like some little kid did when learning how to read without speaking for the first time.

After a moment or so, Pierre felt a little ridiculous just standing there and watching, so he decided to make his move.

On the way from Aunt Laura's house to the school, there was a small line of stores that made up part of the town. Pierre always passed them each day and this time he was actually going to make a stop into one of them before getting to school.

Okay, so it was ridiculously cheesy and part of the former singer felt like a huge idiot for even thinking about the attempt he was going to do, but he had bought a single red rose at the floral shop and he was now holding the flower in his hand, ready to give it away.

Standing in front of David, he cleared his throat to get the others attention since he didn't bother looking up from his book.

"What do you want Pierre?"

"Haven't your parents ever told you that it's not proper to not give your full attention on someone while they're speaking to you?"

Slamming the notebook shut, David looked up at the other with narrowed eyes, clearly not amused. Pierre took the hint then that perhaps he wasn't a morning person. Then again when was he ever remotely happy?

"You've never stricken me as a person who gives a damn about what your parents say."

Pierre's lips curled up into an amused grin. "There are many sides to this gorgeous face once you get to know it."

Holding a hand up to silence him, David shook his head in disgust.

"Please. Refrain. I'd like to keep my breakfast in my stomach for the rest of the morning."

It was starting to get hard to just brush off the things David was saying to him. Pierre needed to be in a relationship with someone that was beneficial to him, someone who'd be able to stroke his ego (among other things) and consistently praise him and help him remember how amazing he is. Sorry, but it was true and he knew it. David's bitchy replies back did absolutely nothing for him.

Finally, Pierre held out the rose to him. "I got this for you." Wow. Way to suddenly feel like he was four again and handing out flowers to a dumb crush. David looked at him like he grew five extra heads.

"...what's that?"

"A flower? A rose to be exact. You know, they grow up from the ground and they bloom and they smell really nice?"

"I know what a rose is, smartass. Why are you giving it to me?"

Scrunching up his nose, Pierre made a face and he sighed, irritably. "Because I want you to have it? Plus, it helps that you're cute. Especially when you get all huffy and bitchy and sarcastic. It's endearing."

Something that Pierre had just done or said had somehow worked. Not to the point where David jumped up into his arms and cried "take me!" but Pierre knew he wasn't seeing things when he saw a light blush creep across the younger boy's cheeks as he stared up at him silently.

He had made him slightly speechless!

But really, what could you possibly say back to that anyway?

Pierre was still holding out the rose, so he sort of shook it for emphasis and waited for David to take it from him. When he finally did, still silent as he twirled the flower around in his hands and inspected it, the former singer opened his mouth again to speak.

"Go to Winter Formal with me."

The speechless, somewhat impressed yet refusing to show it look disappeared from David's face and he rolled his eyes.

"This was all just a ploy to get me to go to Winter Formal with you?"

"Yes. I mean no!" Pierre quickly corrected himself. "I mean...sort of?" God. Why was this so fucking complicated?! He was hot, David should've said yes to him because of that default days ago!

David snorted an unamused laugh.

"And you still think my answer isn't no?" Gathering his books together before opening his messenger bag and sliding them inside, David shook his head, black hair falling into his eyes. he didn't care. "A dumb rose isn't going to change my mind." The younger boy then stood up, hooking the strap of the bag over his shoulder.

Pierre still wasn't giving up. "I didn't expect it to," he replied and shockingly, he was being honest this time around. David's eyebrow quirked, complete with a look of disbelief. "I was just giving you something nice and hoping that you would consider."

Giving a toss of his hair to get the long ink black strands away from his eyes, David scoffed. "While that's nice and all, I don't believe a word of that bull. Flowers won't help sway my decision and make me fall hopelessly in love with you." He paused. "Neither will chocolate. So don't even try to attempt that."

The last comment actually made Pierre laugh because it just came out funny, but the laughter made David's eyes narrow. The former singer actually took notice how even through small slits of his eyes that were outlined in dark khol, the others hazel eyes were still vibrant and alive. It made Pierre's heart give a tiny little flip in his chest, which ended up making him feel slightly awkward. Just for a brief moment anyway.

"Why can't you just take no for an answer?"

"Because I am just as stubborn as you are, if not more."

David scoffed, giving another toss of his hair. Pierre was starting to realize it was a nervous quirk about him and it made him bite back a grin because he always did it when he seemed to not know what to say. Good. He was getting a little under his skin.

"Just give up, Pierre. You are not my type, nor will you ever be."

Well, ouch. Pierre pretended not to feel a slight sting in his chest, but he was quick to remind himself that he didn't even want to date David willingly anyway.

Truth was, David wasn't his type either. He didn't want him, he wanted the popularity and that mattered to him so much more than being rejected over and over again, At least for now. When he got popular, he would be getting enough attention to outweigh all of this rejection from David.

"Keep telling yourself that. That's what they all say."

With a roll of his eyes, David adjusted the messenger bag slung over his shoulder one more time and looked at Pierre.

"I'm going to go to the cafeteria to meet up with someone who actually matters. Don't follow me."

Raising an eyebrow at David somewhat speechlessly, Pierre tried not to get offended.

"Fine, but when you're in there missing my company, that'll be your problem to deal with. Can't say I didn't tell you so!"

Giving one last roll of his eyes and turning away to walk down the hallway, David ended the conversation that seemed to be heading nowhere. However, somewhere inside of Pierre, he felt like he made somewhat of a dent in the others hard outer shell.

The rose he had given to him was still clasped in his hand.

----

Maybe David should've dropped the rose into one of the garbage bins on the way to the cafeteria, but he didn't. He didn't really know why he felt so compelled to keep it, but Avril's nonstop bombarding questions about it made him realize it was a mistake.

"It's nothing, okay?"

"Well if it's nothing, then why are you still holding onto it like it's some sort of prize?"

David knitted his eyebrows together in frustration. "I am not holding onto it like that! It was a gift so I decided to keep it out of the kindness of my heart." This comment cause Avril's eyes to roll but David chose to ignore it. "Just drop it already."

"Okay, fine. Whatever!"

Avril wasn't stupid. She knew exactly where the rose had come from. It was awful to say, but no one in the school besides her gave a shit about David and with all the attention he had been bitching about getting from one person...it was quite obvious.

A few moments of silence passed as the two of them ate their breakfast, but the blonde couldn't hold it in any longer.

"So when are you going to go out on a date with him?"

Slamming onto the top of the lunch table with his palms so hard that it actually shook, David glared at Avril for even thinking about him going on a date with that...with that thing.

"When I drop dead," he snapped back.

Unfazed by David's retaliation to the question, Avril just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay, but it would really suck cause then you wouldn't be able to enjoy the sex." Their eyes met and she smirked, letting him know that she was joking and David, unable to help himself (even though he was trying not to because he was still slightly angry), cracked a smile at the joke.

"Shut up Avril and get back to your math homework so you don't get another F."

----

"He took the rose I gave him."

"...and?"

"He liked it. I know he did. He might've walked away with it, but he still had it in his hand."

"And how do you know he didn't just chuck it into some random garbage on the way to the lunch room?"

Pierre actually hadn't thought about that and his face twisted into a look of slight disappointment. Benji slapped Joel upside the head for even mentioning that as a possibility, shaking his head at him.

"You're a fucking idiot."

"I'm just saying!"

Sighing, Pierre started to block out the obvious fighting that was starting between the twins, taking a seat on the bleachers by the school track that they were hanging around. It was so cold that Pierre could see his breath and it reminded him that a smoke would maybe calm the tension he had, but Benji and Joel were arguing full blast now and he knew it would be a bad idea to interrupt that. Instead he just sat there and ran his fingers through his gelled up hair.

So what if David ended up throwing away the rose that he gave him? Pierre was there, he saw the looks it got out of the other to give him something like that. Pierre had a gut feeling it worked. At least for a bit anyway. He hoped?

Sighing and projecting more smoke from his mouth, Pierre looked out onto the field. "Maybe the rose was a really stupid idea."

"No, I actually thought it was very sweet."

Pierre jumped at the sound of a voice he couldn't place behind him and he turned around in shock to see who was listening in on his thoughts.

Oh. It was that chick that was always hanging around David. Anna? April? Pierre couldn't remember for the life of him. He must've been looking at her really strangely because she gave this sort of half-assed shrug and moved down to sit next to him on the bleachers.

"Pierre right? I'm Avril." Oh. That's what it was. She cut right to the chase. "Look. I don't really know you...aside from all of the bullshit talking inside the walls of the school, but honestly? I could care less about teenaged rumors and drama and I think you seem like a really sweet guy." Second time she called him sweet. Pierre raised an eyebrow, he knew where this was going.

"Uh, look. I'm flattered and all, but you're not my type."

It didn't even take Pierre a second after those words were said to realize that he made a big mistake with that assumption. Avril looked at him incredulously and he felt himself sink down a little in his seat from the feeling of stupidity.

"Well, David was definitely right about that ego of yours," she snorted. "I'm not asking you out, I'm here to help you. With David."

Pierre blinked. What? This was David's best friend and she wanted to help Pierre get him? But...

"But I thought that David hates me," Pierre voiced his thoughts, but suddenly he got hopeful. Maybe he really didn't? Maybe he went home every night and gushed about him to Avril over the phone for hours!

"He does." Crash...and burn. Pierre felt another hit at his ego and he sighed angrily.

"Then why do you want to help me get him?"

Avril sighed. "He's always so fucking miserable and I'm beginning to not be able to take it. I love him, but he's never satisfied or happy. Ever. That's where you come in."

"Me? You really think I'd be able to change that? No offense but he's kind of a hopeless case, at least from what I've witnessed."

"So you try harder!" Groaning slightly, Avril shook her head, tucking some long dirty blonde strands of hair behind her ear. "Listen, if you really like him then keep on pursuing it. He's not used to this attention. He says he hates it, but I know deep down he doesn't."

Pierre scoffed in reply. How would she know that? Didn't she just say that David hated him.

"The rose you gave him is in his locker."

Pierre's head shot up at that statement and looked at the girl.

"Really?"

Avril grinned. "Really. He held onto it all first period and I was bugging him about it so he went and put it in his locker...but he didn't throw it out."

"Well, that's great but...what am I supposed to do next?" He was running out of ideas. Fast. If this chick wanted to help him, she was going to have to dish out something good. Something extremely useful.

"David's a part of select choir. They have rehearsals today after school and I didn't tell you this but...they're looking for another tenor." She paused and tilted her head slightly with a smirk.

"And like I said, I hate to listen to rumors...but I do believe I've heard that you sing, don't you Pierre?"

----

While singing was Pierre's niche, the whole set up in the school's auditorium for the select choir was not. He was used to standing in front of a microphone, sometimes with a bass, and belting out lyrics that he didn't give a damn were on key or not. Organized singing about flowers and rainbows and love other sweet and cutesy things was definitely not something he ever thought he'd be doing.

Walking cautiously down one of the isle's to the stage, Pierre tried to ignore the weird looks he was getting. He liked attention, but not this kind. He honestly felt embarrassed for himself to even attempt this.

Considering turning around on his heels and bolting out the door, he was stopped by a hand clasping over his shoulder from behind.

"You must be Pierre Bouvier."

Turning around, the singer came face to face with a young looking woman. Her eyes were a piercing bright blue, blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail and her smile radiated some sort of warmth that made Pierre feel a little more at ease. This must've been the choir teacher.

"Yeah...that'd be me."

"Thought so. I'm Miss Parker, the choir teacher." Holding out her hand for him to shake, Pierre took it and did so. "Avril told me you'd be joining us today in hopes of becoming part of the select choir?"

Even though he was regretting it and he had a funny feeling start in the pit of his stomach, Pierre nodded his head yes anyway.

"Great! Once we get started, I'll just put you into the group and see how well your voice mixes with the rest of the choir. Afterwards, if I feel you blend in well, I'll ask you to sing a few things for me just so I can get more of a feel for your voice and see if you are eligible for some solos in the future. If you want them, anyway."

Pierre wished he had as much enthusiasm as she did with him joining, but instead he just went on pretending.

With as much of a smile that he could process, he just replied with "that'd be great."

"Besides Avril, are you friends with anyone else in the group? Any tenors? I just don't want to pop you in there randomly and have you feel uncomfortable! If you have a friend I don't mind putting you next to them for the first rehearsal to share a music sheet with."

Was David a tenor? Pierre didn't even know. If he mentioned him and he wasn't one, he'd look like an idiot and then make it obvious that he wasn't even friends with him because, obviously, he'd know what his position was in select choir if they were friends.

"Uh. Well. I'm friends with David..."

The teacher gave a small look of shock. Obviously she wasn't really expecting that as an answer and she gave Pierre sort of a funny look before she seemed to contemplate it, humming to herself.

"David is one of the best tenors in the group, so he can definitely help you out easily. I like that idea." It seemed like something was still bugging her and she looked at the former singer curiously. "You're friends with him, eh?"

Pierre tried to pull off the lie as smoothly as he could manage. "Oh yeah. We bumped into each other the first say of school and have been talking since." Well, technically, that wasn't a lie at all!

A smile curved her lips and she nodded, walking away and over to the piano by the stage.

Any glimmer of hope or positive thought that he had or Avril tried to give him about all of this going to work completely vanished when David saw him in the auditorium. What confused and infuriated the younger boy even more was when Miss Parker placed Pierre next to him to sing.

"What are you doing here?" David practically hissed out through gritted teeth, keeping quiet so the teacher didn't hear him as he fumbled with his folder for choir, pulling out the sheet of music they were instructed to find.

Inching closer to David so he'd be able to see the music as well, Pierre tried not to roll his eyes and the other leaned himself away from him. "I have a passion for singing, David. Now are you going to be nice and share the folder with me for one day?" He whispered back. "Until I get one of my own?"

David hazel eyes, sharp and narrowed turned to look at the former singer as if he was out of his mind.

"You won't get one because you're not going to be here after this...this trial practice." He continued to hiss at him.

Pierre scoffed. "And what makes you so sure?"

"I know Miss Parker," David said, matter of factly, shutting and clutching the folder and sheet of music in his hands tightly. "She wont like anything about you. So this futile attempt at trying to get closer to me--which I know is part of your sick and twisted plan don't even deny it--won't work."

Opening his mouth to add on something to that, try to defend himself, Pierre was cut short by the sounds of Miss Parker beginning to play the piano.

Unlike the way Pierre imagined this all to go, he didn't get any more words in with David until the end of the practice. Once it was called off, David quickly grabbed his bag, shoved his folder inside of it and tried to escape Pierre before he could say anything more. Basically jetting out of the auditorium, he left Pierre standing there looking lost. Avril, who was on the opposite side of the stage still gathering her stuff together threw him a sympathetic look before tossing her bag over her shoulder and leaving as well.

"Your voice blended in well."

The voice came from behind him and Pierre turned around to look at the choir teacher once more as he picked his bag up off the floor.

"Thanks." That was all he really could say, trying his best not to get bummed about how once again, his plan failed.

Giving him a smile, she tilted her head curiously as if figuring that something was wrong, but she didn't want to push it. "We have practice for the rest of the week after school as well for preparation for the Winter Concert if you're seriously interested. I'll make sure you have a folder."

Giving her as best of a convincing smile as he could, Pierre replied with "that would be great. I'll see you again tomorrow."

----

Needless to say, David still wasn't thrilled the following day and he made that quite clear with the ice cold stare that he gave Pierre when their eyes met as they stood in the stands, this time the older boy holding his very own folder.

It was made quite clear that Pierre was the new tenor of the group and as much as he hated the fact that he had to sing all of this "choir shit" (as he put it), he was just happy to actually be singing again. Was that strange? He tried not to think about it and instead focused on what Avril had told him while bumping into him between third and forth period that day.

"Don't throw yourself at him anymore."

Making a face, Pierre stared down at the tiny blonde in front of him. "I am not throwing myself at him."

Avril gave a roll of her eyes and a small "whatever", Pierre opening his mouth to defending himself, but she spoke again before he did. "Just ignore him. You've already made it known that you're interested and he can't stop talking about you so I think you're in."

"Excuse me?"

The bell rang and Avril looked around, poking her head out of the small corridor that she had pulled the former singer into so they could talk and not be seen. Noticing that no one seemed to see them, nor care, she put her attention back on Pierre.

"He likes the attention. While he hates to admit it, it's all he's been talking about." Pierre blinked sort of stupidly as he stared at the girl. Avril gave another roll of her eyes. Boys were so stupid. "When we walked home from practice yesterday, all he could do was bitch about you being in choir and how you were "stalking" him--"

"If this is supposed to be making me feel better, it's not."

"--but he never gets this much attention. Ever. And I know he's missed it. You just gotta make him see how much he's missed it by taking it away again. Comprehend?"

David was as complicated as a fucking girl and Pierre hated it, but Avril did know what she was talking about. After all, she was his best friend. So, he took her advice and decided not to give David the satisfaction of speaking with him the entire practice. It took all of his willpower not to try anything...especially with Carly's deal with him was practically screaming inside of his head.

Once practice was done, Pierre didn't say a word and left even before David did. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach from the thought of failure, but if Avril knew waht she was talking about then things would work out.

----

It wasn't until the end of practice on that Friday that Pierre got anything out of David.

Pretty much everyone had left from practice already, Pierre being the only one still there because Miss Parker had to give him a few memos and papers on how to prepare for the Winter Concert (since he was the least experienced). Zipping his backpack shut, he slipped his coat on and headed towards the doors. Walking outside to the bitter cold of fall ending, Pierre hesitated and debated on walking over to the payphone to call a taxi to pick him up instead of walking. There was snow on the ground already and he wasn't wearing boots. How stupid of him.

"Why are you even a part of select choir?"

The familiar voice made Pierre almost jump out of his skin in surprise because he thought he was the only person left at the school, but he managed to keep his cool and turn around to look at the other.

"Why not? I sing, I figure I should put my voice to good use since I'm not a rockstar anymore."

When he called himself a rockstar, the raven haired boy didn't even fight rolling his eyes and he gave a scoff which emitted a puff of air from his mouth from the cold.

"You joined select choir to try and win me over."

Pierre grinned, crossing his arms over his chest in amusement. "And you say that I'm the one with the ego."

Either David's cheeks flushed or it was the cold, Pierre couldn't really place it but, like always, David was quick with a response.

"Which is unnecessary because you're nothing special."

Ouch.

"Well I'm special enough to be in select choir, cheri," he bit back, calling David darling as sarcastically as he could.

David just gave a flick of his head to get the hair out of his eyes.

"So if you joined because of me, then why have you been ignoring me these past few days?"

"...because I didn't join because of you?"

David laughed, the sound almost bitter as it left his mouth. "That's such a load of shit and you know it."

This time Pierre was quick with a reply back, practically yelling from the frustration built up inside of him. "You know what's also a load of shit? The fact that you won't give me a chance and go to the Winter Formal with me!"

Stunned, David stared at the other with wide eyes for a brief moment, taking in what had just occurred.

"I don't do dances."

"Well neither do I!"

"Then why the hell are you asking me to one?!"

"Would you prefer me asking you out to a movie or for a slice of pizza?!"

"I would still say no!"

"Fucking Goddammit, you are hopeless! All I want to do is spend some Goddamn time with you, but I guess you're too full of yourself and have your head too far up your own ass to take notice that someone's actually interested in you!"

And with that, Pierre turned to walk away, deciding the best way to stop himself from getting even angrier and saying something stupid was to get away from the younger boy.

David just stood there, watching as the former singer started to walk away. Something sort of crumbled inside of him though and he felt kind of stupid. Actually, very stupid. Pierre seemed like such a jerk...and he probably was, but the truth of the matter was the fact that he was giving him attention and as much as he hated to admit it, it was sort of nice. What if this really ruined it? What if after this encounter Pierre would stop giving him attention that no one in the school wanted to do. Ever. Not really knowing why, but he ended up calling out to him.

"Wait!"

Turning around, Pierre looked at him with raised eyebrows, basically asking him 'what the fuck?' and David hesitated for a second before speaking up again.

"If I...if I go to the stupid dance will you stop trying so damn hard?"

Pierre tried his best not to slip on a patch of ice under his feet from shock. What? What?! Blinking stupidly, Pierre was at a loss for words. What the hell made him change so quickly? He had spent more than a month trying to get to him and then suddenly he was willing to go to the dance? Didn't he just say he "didn't do dances"? Was he bipolar or something? What was he getting himself into? Carly definitely knew what she was doing when it came to giving him a challenge, that was for sure.

"I...er...uh...sure?"

"I'll take that as a yes," David said, cutting Pierre off from the nonsense sputtering that he was practically doing. "Just don't expect anything out of it. I'm not gonna lay you and as much self respect that I'm losing going to this dance, with you to top it all off, I still have a shred of it left to not do that."

Pierre's head kind of spun with a bunch of questions, but he just stood there with raised eyebrows and stared at David.

"Okay?"

"Good. Now that we agreed on that and you're going to stop harassing the shit out of me, I'm going home. Goodbye Pierre."

The older boy watched as David turned around and walked in the direction which he guessed was his house with the same look of shock still on his features.

Well...that was extremely unexpected.

**Sorry for such a long wait for this chapter! I hope it was worth it. I've been suffering from horrible writer's block for the past few months, but I'm slowly getting back into it. I didn't forget about this story, I want to finish it! Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up at a faster time than this one took me! xoxo.

At that moment I saw fear flash through hazel.

2009-08-23T15:07:42Z

Title: I Believe When The Times Comes: I'll Get My Way
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17, do I ever write anything different?
POV: First-person narrative
Pairing(s): P/D of course, but with a little David/others as well!
Summary: And it's not like I even want a relationship, I just want something substantial that involves myself not feeling used every single time David peels his slick with sweat body off of me after a round of sex. David Desrosiers is a fucking slut.
Warnings: Language, sex and uh...rape? Technically. Nothing too crazy.
Disclaimer: As much as I wish everything that goes on in my sick, twisted mind was real...this is sadly not. Only the words are mine. The title is taken from the song Looks Minus Substance by the amazing band The New Cities.
Author Notes: For the hott_baguettes Discography Challenge. You can go here to listen to the song if you feel compelled to!
*It took me three months to actually write this and I figured I'd finish it and put it into the challenge. So any feedback at all would be gladly appreciated, this took me a long time.

I can say that I'll make sure they're all blown away, artificial all the way. "A shallow sexy type" they'll say. Looks minus substance. I believe as adrenaline kicks in I'll be getting ready, drunk with anxiety. I'll be charming to the masses. Looks minus substance. But every time I watch you, my mind is racing and my breath I lose and every time I get to touch you, touch you...yeah every single time you get me hooked, get me hooked.
-Looks Minus Substance / The New Cities

This is the type of game that I cannot win, nor do I even want to play.

Unfortunately for me, it's the only game that David Desrosiers knows.

Sometimes I feel like he doesn't even realize what he's doing, but other times I get a hunch that he knows how badly he's fucking me up. As if he was reaching into my throat to pull out my heart to throw on the ground and stomp all over...like a perfected dance. He was excellent at it.

People perceive David as this sweet, affectionate kind of guy and it makes me want to vomit whenever I hear someone use those terms in the process of them defining him. There have been so many times were I've looked him in the eye and couldn't place anything there. Just cold. He was blank. Unreachable.

He wasn't like this years ago and it terrified me in a sense because I wasn't quite sure where that boy I used to know went. People change, they grow up, but this sort of growing up was not the type of path I ever expected David to take. He had hit a one-eighty.

The truth of the matter was though; I was completely head over heels for him. And I hated myself for it. It's not something easy to control either, especially when he wants me too...just not in the same point of view. Maybe it's because of the past, what he used to be like that makes me not run away.

Or maybe I'm masochistic in a fucked up sort of way, because I just keep crawling back like a pathetic mess.

I do realize though, that I'm pretty much going around in circles...like some sick twisted carousel in some fucked up horror movie. It's never-ending and I can't seem to find a stop button to it.

And it's not like I even want a relationship, I just want something substantial that involves myself not feeling used every single time David peels his slick with sweat body off of me after a round of sex.

Is that so much to ask?

It's obscene almost, the way that David has me so far into his mouth that he's deepthroating me, swallowing around my cock like he was born to do it and all I can possibly do is emit small groans and growls of pleasure in return. His lashes flutter against his flushed cheeks, eyes closed as he gets lost in the moment and I'm standing there looking down at him, watching with my jaw dropped like some fucking pervert. My right hand is tight in his hair, a black clump of strands between my fingers as I hold on.

Sliding his lips up my shaft, he sucks hard and I cry out, trying so hard not to fuck his face even though I'm pretty sure he'd be able to take it.

"F-fuck, David..."

I've never been the one for talking during sex, but sometimes the bassist got me going so good that I couldn't help myself. A part of me wanted to punch him when I could feel him smirk around my cock, but then again I was so close to cumming that I just didn't give a shit about his ego. At least for the moment.

All that really happened was the quick blowjob, David and I parting ways without so much of a 'goodbye' after he swallowed up the mess and said nothing about it to each other in-between the random interviews we had the rest of the afternoon.

Sometimes the way we pretended how nothing happened made me want to scream...but then again, who'd be listening?

What caught me off-guard was one night where I was alone in my apartment, working on some hooks for a few new songs that had the potential to be on the new album and I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, David was standing there in all of his glory, looking perfect and so fucking fuckable (which he probably knew all too well) that it was ridiculous. Telling me he was just passing by the area and figured it would be nice to stop by "for a drink or something", I foolishly let him in.

I don't know how exactly it happened but the next thing I knew, David was on his back on the fucking kitchen table, my cock so deep up his ass that I was practically seeing stars. He had his head tilted back, eyes shut tightly in bliss and perfect pink mouth in the shape of an 'o' as I repeatedly pounded into his prostate. Blunt nails dragged up my hot skin at the backs of my shoulders as he held on for what looked like his life. He came quickly, me soon after, and I was spent. Pushing me off of him, he scrambled to pick up the pants that were discarded and tossed over onto the tiled floor.

No drink, no small talk. No nothing.

"Merci beaucoup," was all David felt like saying before he walked out of the kitchen and out of my apartment, leaving me there alone and used for what felt like the millionth time in a row.

"Bienvenue..." I whisper out to no one, leaning back against the counter and resisting the urge to cry. Because grown men don't fucking cry.

The worst moment when it came to David and all of this shit had to be during the tour we had with Green Day close to the beginning of the year. David and I hadn't spoken in weeks prior to it for reasons unknown but a few hours before the show we had to put on that night, I walked into our bus, our fucking bus and I came face to face with the bassist pushed against one of the walls, cheek pressed against it and eyes squeezed shut tight as Billie Joe, Billie Fucking Joe Armstrong fucked him from behind.

If I had been carrying anything, it probably would've dropped from my hands in shock. Looking back on it now, I'm wondering how I possibly didn't make any noise from the (unwelcoming) surprise.

I know that David wasn't mine, but watching something like that made my heart fly up into my throat and then take a plummet right down into my stomach. Jealousy that I shouldn't have even felt burned through me. The worst part was, I was frozen on the spot. I couldn't walk away, I couldn't even breathe. My feet were stuck to the ground like I was stuck in concrete.

David's eyes were heavy with lust, so when they opened they were only half lidded...but we made eye contact anyway. I don't even know if my expression was readable, but his sure fucking was. The corners of the bassist's mouth curled up into a smirk and my blood went cold. His eyelids were quick to fluttering shut again and his mouth opened to let out a sound of pleasure at Billie obviously doing something right, hands grasping at the wall to hold on, body arching as he pushed back against the older man. After a moment, his eyes opened again, this time wider, this time more curiously and I could tell he was fucking testing me, showing me how good he felt even when it wasn't me.

Something within me snapped. David knew perfectly clear about the way he had me wrapped around his finger and now he was curious...curious to see how badly he had hurt me, the sadistic grin was back on his face as he purred out "fuck yeah, Billie" eyes still locked with mine.

He always wanted to get a rise out of me. Maybe I made it too obvious, maybe it was just easy to do so, but the worst part about it was that I always let him get to me. Always.

My throat tightened as David's eyes went back to being closed, head lolling back in pleasure as Billie continued to fuck David. What should've been mine.

I couldn't even do anything. I couldn't even fight for myself, am I that pathetic?! I turned on my heels and I walked out, only managing to catch a quiet; "Fuck, he saw, we should end this." "No, I don't give a damn. Keep fucking me." as I fought the urge to slam the tour bus door shut in my anger.

Watching David exit the tour bus, straightening the tie he was wearing and reaching up to smooth back down his disheveled hair, something within me snapped. The cigarette I had been holding was dropped to the ground, lost in the dirt and forgotten as I took quick strides to catch up to him as he walked to the backdoor entrance to the venue in the dark.

"He has a fucking wife," I hissed in his ear when I got close, David choosing to ignore me and instead look straight ahead, continuing to walk. That didn't stop me. I walked faster. "And two fucking kids--are you even listening to me?!"

I managed to get in front of him, halting the bassist with a hand on his shoulder and a look dead in the eye.

"Do you have no shame?!" I practically cry out, all my feelings pretty much summed up in the desperateness of my voice. What the fucking hell, when did I become so transparent?

There was something I couldn't place in the dark hazel that stared back at me, face cold and stern as David shrugged his shoulders to get my hand off of him, shrugged me and my questions off of him.

"No," he deadpanned.

That was it and walked around me to enter the venue, slamming the heavy door behind him.

"So what if you have a girlfriend?" David spoke almost cheekily, the way his voice sounding making goosebumps attack my skin. "I know you wanna fuck me..." he added on, practically purring the words and the fucking bastard climbed right on top of my lap, hooking an arm loosely around my shoulders while the other slipped up my shirt to caress at the sensitive skin near my navel.

Fuck. He always knew what to do to turn me on...I was hopeless. This was hopeless.

Leaning forward, David's lips hovered near my ear and I swear to God, the heat from his mouth sent electric shocks down my spine.

"Fuck me," he hissed. "I know you want your cock inside of me, don't even try to play it off like you don't...I know I feel fucking amazing--" there goes that ego again. "--I wanna make you feel so fucking good Pierre."

My dick twitched inside of my jeans and it was obvious that David was aware of it, I could practically feel his smirk as he spoke up again. "Quite frankly, I don't give a fuck if you have a girlfriend. I have a girlfriend and it never stops me."

"I know," you fucking slut.

I hiss as David drags his teeth down the shell of my ear and even I can't differentiate it being from anger or from the pleasure he's giving me.

"You're gonna fuck me," he quickly adds on, reaching down to cup my obvious erection to punctuate his words and I groan, resisting the urge to buck up into his hand. Instead I somehow, by some strange miracle, am able to push David off of me for the first time ever, hazel eyes wide with curiosity.

"No--I have a fiancee, David."

The curiosity in his eyes quickly flashed to hurt. I'm unable to read David, but at this moment I could do it so well and it was just so obvious. I felt a pang of guilt hit my stomach as I witnessed it. The reaction was quick to change though, David well aware of the fact that I noticed the vulnerability and he was one to never show emotion. Ever. Made him feel weak.

He scoffed. "Since when did that ever stop you?" Hands reached for the hem of the white button down shirt he was wearing, pulling it up till his flat stomach was revealed, followed by his chest and he tossed it to the side, eying me with a hungry look.

"Never," I breathed out truthfully and David smirked as I eyed his body, sort of doing a little strip tease for me as he unbuckled his belt and slipped the leather from the loops to toss, forgotten, on the floor. His pants were undone next, meeting the floor in the same fashion and, oh, David always made it so easy by not wearing any underwear.

The room was still with silence as he climbed back up on my lap, palms finding my chest to push me down on the bed I was sitting on and my heart began beating in my chest in halftime. I wasn't escaping this, and the worst part of all of this was the fact that David knew I wasn't escaping it.

It was one thing to know that you yourself had no self-restraint, but when the person you had no self-restraint with knew as well...

When I woke up the next morning I was alone, naked in bed. This didn't surprise me in the least, but I couldn't stand how I was getting used to it. I let it happen again. How could I let it happen again?

I was such an idiot.

It's just a regular, typical day of a show on the tour and Chuck was at the table in the front of the bus, scribbling down some new ideas or lyrics or...whatever in the small notebook he carried around all of the time. Me however? I was sitting opposite of him on the small couch, busy staring out the window silently. We weren't moving, the bus was in one place considering we made it to the venue a little before we had to, but I had absolutely no motivation whatsoever to leave the vehicle until it was pretty much mandatory to do so.

"If you're just gonna sit there and mope, you might as well do it in your bunk where it isn't so obvious."

Chuck's voice finally broke the on-going silence that had been suffocating the captivity of the bus since I had managed to drag myself out of my bunk earlier that afternoon.

I scoffed, trying to act nonchalant to the question, pushing it away like there wasn't anything I was moping about. "I'm not moping Chuck, I'm thinking."

"Which is causing yourself to mope."

It was funny, I had never even said a word to Chuck about the "relationship" I was in with David or the abuse he put me through, but maybe it was obvious. Chuck knew. He always knew. Perhaps it was because we had been so close for so long and you can't really escape that from your best friend. I didn't really quite understand. Sometimes it was comforting to know that I had someone who knew me so well, but other times I wish the friendship we had didn't even exist. This was one of those times.

"Whatever," I bite back, not bothering to take his advice and walk back to my bunk.

Irritably, Chuck tapped the eraser of the pencil in his hand against the table. "Fine. Be stubborn. The more you make it obvious, the more he's going to keep on doing this to you."

"Doing what, Chuck?" I turn my head to look at him and hiss back on instinct, not even giving a chance for the other to so much as breathe after he said what he did. "You don't know shit about what's going on, so stop acting all high and mighty like you understand every single thing that's happening with David and I. You may know about everything that involves this band and music and so-forth, but not anything else. So quit acting like you fucking do."

Whoa. I don't know where that came from and I sort of surprised myself, but instead of reacting to my own outburst or apologizing for it, I bit down on my bottom lip and went back to looking outside at the nothing I was staring at prior.

I could practically feel the hurt coming from Chuck, but he was better at hiding his emotions than I was. He let me cool off, not bothering to say a word as I continued to stare at nothing, breathing a little rapidly until I was able to control myself.

After a few more minutes of what turned into awkward silence, my best friend spoke up again, voice quiet.

"I'm not stupid, nor blind." A pause. What he said next echoed through my ears and reverberated inside my head for the rest of the day. "He knows he can get a rise, a reaction out of you, he knows what he's doing is working because you're letting it work. You're showing it." Chuck sighed and I turned my head to look back at him and watched as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck slightly awkwardly. "You have to be stronger than this. I know you love him--"

"I don't love him," I cut him off defensively, eyes widening at the mere prospect of it. Chuck just continued.

"--but you have to stick up for yourself."

I opened my mouth to try and counter that with something, but no words found my head or mouth. Instead, I looked like an idiot for a few more moments before I decided to shut it and instead just shook my head at myself.

As if it were on instinct, the door of the bus opened and sounds of laughter could be heard from the outside, creeping closer as someone stumbled up the steps to where Chuck and I were.

I felt another tug at my heart when I saw David emerge, tugging along with him some slutty looking, giggly blonde girl, though he halted in his steps when he realized both Chuck and I were still occupying the bus.

"Oh. I thought all of you guys left..."

"Everyone else did," Chuck spoke up, slapping his notebook shut and shot me a look. "But we don't care, you can go about your...business." The last word was sort of cold, like a jab at the bassist, but David didn't really notice it. Either that, or he didn't care. "...right Pierre?"

I tore my gaze away from the disgusting sight in front of me to look back at Chuck in slight surprise, not expecting him to push me into this conversation. I hesitated for a moment and he could feel David's curious hazel eyes back on me. Turning to look at him I found that I was right.

It was obvious, at least to me, what Chuck was doing. Easier said than done, but I had to at least try. Forcing myself to swallow, a crossed my arms over my chest in a nonchalant kind of way and gave a small shrug. "Sure, whatever."

David's eyebrow gave a raise as he looked at me, eying me suspiciously, but I didn't really give him any more of a reaction and the blonde started to tug him to the back of the bus, so he was out of my view in seconds.

It didn't take long for me to scramble off the couch and make my way to the head of the bus to leave.

"Where are you going?" Chuck asked and the question sort of bounced back and forth in my head for a moment or since the sound emerging from the back of the bus hit my ears a hell of a lot stronger than Chuck's voice. I halted my steps, turning around to look at the other.

For a moment I couldn't find my voice. "I-I...I can't stay here," I managed to finally let out, the sound of my voice making it clear how distraught I was.

"If you leave and he comes back out and sees that you're not here, he's going to know it effected you."

"So what the hell am I supposed to do, Chuck?!" I hissed out angrily, keeping the volume of my voice down to not be heard, though I was pretty sure David could care less about the any sort of conversation at that moment. "Listen to David have sex with some coked out groupie and pretend like it's not effecting me?" A loud moan came from the bunk area of the bus and my hands tightened into fists.

"No way, I'm out of here."

It only got worse. I tried my best to ignore David, I honest to God did, but it was almost impossible. I have no clue what happened when David had finished with...whoever the fuck that was and left the bus, but it was clear that it had gotten to me because I had fled from the scene as fast as I could.

I found myself in the same position a few days later, at the front of the bus once again, this time a tabloid magazine in my hands to kill boredom. I hadn't even gotten halfway through it when it was tossed to the floor, David perched on my lap in an attempt to seduce me in the quiet, empty bus.

"What's the matter? Couldn't find anyone better today?" I practically snarled out, words bitter as they left my tongue. He just smirked in reply and leaned in to connect our lips. This time though, this time I was going to take Chuck's advice. I've had enough. This had to stop.

Maybe I shoved David too hard, or maybe he just wasn't expecting it, but when I pushed him off of me, he fell backwards and onto the floor, landing right on his back.

"What the fuck, Pierre?!" He practically shrieked, looking up at me incredulously.

I felt as though a diva fit was about to commence and I wasn't going to just sit there and fucking take it, so I got up and did something I haven't been able to do ever; I walked away.

In absolute horror to David Desrosiers, I walked away from him. Finally.

This happened a few more times, one of those times involving him trying to pin me up against a wall backstage, but I somehow managed to control myself and get away, the annoyance practically readable on the bassist's face with every encounter we had following.

The point wasn't to annoy him, the point was to prove that I didn't need him. If he wasn't going to take me seriously, then why should I take him seriously?

What Chuck had tried to explain to me had finally sunk in. If David wanted to play this game? I could play it right back.

A few weeks later, Lachelle came to visit on tour for a few stops. David kept mostly to himself, staying in his bunk on the bus or locking himself in his hotel room whenever we weren't performing onstage.

It was sort of strange, he even backed out on partying at after-events. From the time I've known David, he had been very private about a lot of shit in his life, but he'd never back down from attending anything that involved any alcohol indulging.

I'd like to think it was because my girlfriend had shown up and we had been non-stop affectionate since, but I didn't want to give myself a pat on the back and congratulate myself for "winning" just yet. David could've been going through a weird moody point in his life (it wasn't uncommon) and it might've just been a strange coincidence.

Naturally, lovers bliss was soon cut short. Lachelle had to get back home to California and we had to continue the tour we were slowly, but surely finishing up.

I'm not going to say that I expected it, but I was sort of shocked that David had not come out of his "hiding away" stage after she had gone. This rubbed me the wrong way, but it wasn't like anyone else seemed to care.

When David got bitchy or moody, everyone else in the band knew to keep their distance.

The next night onstage David had shot me the nastiest looks I've ever really received, but I managed to push them aside and block them from my mind. That had become a lot easier to do without sex clouding up my judgement. Chuck was right about everything he said. David had been controlling me with sex and now that I hadn't been giving into it (plus gotten it from someone else...) it wasn't even phasing me anymore.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't crave it because sex with David made sex with anyone else so boring, but it had been so much easier to control myself because I had gone weeks without doing it now.

It was like an addiction I was slowly getting out of.

What sort of shocked me was my own reaction to when David decided to show up at my hotel room a few days before the tour was over.

He just sort of stood there and looked at me with an unreadable expression for a few moments, me leaning in the doorframe with my eyebrows raised in question.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Yeah, it was rude, but David was always fucking rude to me.

"I want to come in."

It wasn't a request, nor did he even ask and he said it in a way that it was like he knew I was going to say yes. Too bad I actually answered with the opposite.

"Nah, I'm kind of exhausted. I was about to get to sleep."

David had just blinked, staring at me as if I was going to change my mind. He was silent, so I sort of stared at him back the same way, waiting for him to say something.

"Well, aren't you gonna go?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.

It seemed as though the bassist was hesitating, just he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Please...fuck me, Pierre." It was spoken in a mumble, but it was clear cut due to the silence.

My eyebrows raised. Excuse me? Did he actually just say what I just heard?

"What?" I asked, hiding my amusement because it looked like the other was close to begging and I wouldn't deny that I would've loved to see the other go down on his knees and plead with me to fuck him. Now who was the one who was in complete control?

David groaned, obviously hating this predicament he was in. He wanted me and yet he couldn't have me. Huh. Didn't that sound familiar!

"Please fuck me, Pierre. I want you. I...miss it."

I could hear the insecurity in David's voice and it was something that I haven't been able to catch in a very long time. It made me feel sort of nostalgic in a fucked up kind of way, it reminded me of the old David. The David that I had fallen for before all of the shit happened and he grew that fucking ego.

Swallowing hard, I knew that I needed to continue what I had been doing even though I had David pretty much at my mercy at this point.

"No," I deadpanned and with all the strength in me that I could muster up, I moved away from the door and back into my hotel room, slamming the door shut in David's face.

Needless to say, David didn't care to speak to me for the rest of the tour.

Once the tour had ended, we all went back to Montreal to hibernate just for a few days, perhaps a week before we ended up having to do something else for the band. Promo or another concert or a signing...whatever the fuck it was. It was all a constant jumble of things nowadays anyway.

One day though, I decided to take a drive away from my parents house and into Quebec City to the only apartment I really knew well there. It was a decent drive, so I didn't really plan on staying for less than five minutes, but I knew that wouldn't happen anyway.

I walked into the building and up to David's apartment with ease, casually giving a knock on the door because I knew he'd be there. I knew he'd be there alone too because he rarely spent time with his girlfriend.

When he answered the door, his face went from shocked to pissed in a second flat and he went to slap me in the face, but I caught his hand before it came into collision with my cheek. Trying to wretch his hand away, he mumbled a bunch of curses mixed along with my name in both English and French, but I refused to let go of the wrist I had a firm grip on.

David wanted sex so badly? Well then fine, I would give him sex. But who says that sex had to be when he wanted it?

He wasn't in control anymore; I was.

It didn't take much strength at all to push the other back into his apartment, though he stumbled over his own feet because he didn't want to move, let alone let me inside. I easily slammed him up against the nearest wall, kicking the door shut behind me and crashed my lips into his.

He let out a surprised squeak, squirming against my grip and trying to push me away, but it was no luck. My free hand found his other wrist and pinned them to the wall, my hips pressing against his tiny ones to trap his entire body between the wall.

When he bit my lip and sunk his teeth into it to break the skin in an attempt to get me away, I wasn't shocked at all, but I hissed out in pain as I tasted the metallic flavor of blood pooling into my mouth and on my tongue. I pulled my mouth away and licked at the wound, listening to David's pants of breath as he struggled in my grip.

"Get...the fuck...off of me...Bouvier..." he seethed between pants of breath, hate flashing through his hazel eyes as they locked with mine.

"No," I answered back, still tonguing my recent injury, trying to ignore the pain as I ground my hips into David's.

The truth was; I was horny. Plus it never takes me long to get worked up and at that moment I could care less if David wanted it or not. I didn't care if he got off to this or not. The last thing I was focusing on this time was his pleasure.

It involved a lot of fighting, a lot of me winning and David losing, but we finally made it to his bed. His body was naked under my own, bites and scratches and bruises starting to blemish his pale skin where I had marked him in an attempt to win the flight.

I found it ridiculously ironic that he was putting up such a battle to stop me when he had spent the last month trying to do the same thing to me.

"Don't fight it," I spoke up finally, dragging my lips up the skin of other's heaving chest to his throat and then mouth, voice ragged and raw from trying to catch my breath. "You know you want it..."

At that moment, David's eyes connected with mine again and a realization crossed over his features. How many times has he said that to me? How many times have I just gone through this not because I wanted sex, but because I had feelings for him too?

At that moment I saw fear flash through hazel.

It almost made me want to stop, but I didn't because I knew he deserved this. I deserved this. David needed to be put in his place.

I didn't even bother with foreplay, nor preparing David.

Instead, I let go of one of David's hands, holding both of his wrists with the other and I spit into it, coating myself completely with my saliva and my precum.

Maybe David didn't need any preparing anyway, he was used to getting fucked. A lot. So what if he felt pain? It was punishment for the emotional pain he had put me through for the last few years.

I could see tears leaking from his eyes that were squeezed shut as I pushed into him, mouth parting to cry out in pain when I started to move without giving him a moment to adjust or give a warning. I was in fucking control.

The whole thing was a fucking blur to me. All I cared about at that moment was how tight David felt around my cock, how good it felt that I was finally fucking him again and how much I wanted to cum. So bad. I kept my eyes closed and I managed to block out David's sounds of pain as I continued to fuck him, not even interested in getting his prostate in the process. It wasn't like he was turned on to begin with anyway.

I came with a cry, letting my body just collapse on top of David's, wrists still tight in my grip. Once I was able to gain some composure, I moved off of him, letting go. Awaiting a slap as I moved to get up off the bed, I was stunned to find that I didn't receive one. I didn't want to look at David though, so I instead gathered all of the clothing that I had shed in the process of controlling David off of the floor of his bedroom. Slipping them on, I quickly zip up my pants, wondering what my next move should be.

Guilt had washed over me, especially hearing small sobs coming from the bed where David was laying, but I swallowed and continued to ignore him as I slipped on the Role Model shirt I had removed.

"I get it."

David voice sounded worn and broken as it cut through the heavy silence of the room and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before I turned around to look at him again.

I felt a tear at my heart when I took in the view, David curled up in the bed, tear streaks down his face as he looked up at me, chest heaving from dry, heavy sobs.

"I understand. You think I don't understand?"

Biting my lip, I shook my head.

"No David, you don't understand."

David looked like he had received a punch in the face to top it all off, practically wincing at my lack of compassion for what he had to say.

"I'm sorry..."

I tried to make it seem like the words didn't effect me. I swallowed hard, closing my eyes and I shook my head.

"Apologize to me when you know what exactly you're apologizing for," I reply back and instead of listening for another answer back from him, I turn and walk away and out of his apartment.

Maybe one day I'll actually get a true apology for everything he had put me through.

Mid November hit like killer frostbite.

2009-08-04T15:40:53Z

Title: I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good (5/?)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17 Eventually.
POV: 3rd.
Summary: Eighteen year old Pierre Bouvier's perfect world of potential stardom comes to a crashing halt when his ego over-inflates and is kicked out of the only thing he had going good in his life: his band Reset. They disband and the former singer is tossed back into high school where he comes to the realization that no one wants to befriend a washed up wannabe rock star...except, oddly, the most popular group of kids in College Beaubois. Under one condition. He needs to pass a test to make sure he's worthy: nail the biggest loser of the school before prom night; David Desrosiers.
Disclaimer: Not real, wish they were, blah blah blah, etc etc.
Dedication: This one goes out to my bffl kristen aka simpleplan for keeping me sane. xoxo.
Author's Note: I haven't done chaptered fics in a long time, plus this is my first time ever writing one that is completely AU. So be nice!
Also: I just started using this journal for more than just communities, so if you want to, feel free to add me! I'd love more friends. :)
Previous Chapters: one / two / three / four

This don't mean that you own me. This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell, but things worked out just like you wanted too. If you see me out, you don't know me. Try to turn your head, try to give me some room to figure out just what I'm going to do. Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do. It's best if we all keep this quiet instead and I couldn't tell why everyone here was doing me like they do...but I'm sorry now and I don't know how to get it back to good.
- Matchbox 20

David Desrosiers was a genius.

Okay, so maybe not exactly, but he was a genius on Pierre's standards.

According to Benji and Joel, David had skipped a grade long before high school started. His academics were outstanding and he pretty much outshone everyone else in the senior class, even the rest of the students in the honors classes he attended every day. It was pretty much set that he would be valedictorian that year since he was at the top, something that didn't surprise anyone else in the least.

There were rumors going around that he had gotten accepted into McGill for law. If that wasn't impressive, then what was? Pierre was almost intimidated now, considering he didn't even know what to use to strike up conversations. All the former singer really knew anything about was classic rock, punk rock, history of rock and roll...get the picture? Was David all brains and no fun?

"Is he musically inclined?" Pierre had to ask, complete with a hopeless sigh, knowing the answer to that was probably a no-go, tapping the end of his pen irritably on the edge of the notebook in his hands. Both him and the twins were sitting on the steps outside of the entrance of the school, cutting the rest of the day away. Pierre was just jotting down notes about the oddly now intimidating David Desrosiers.

"He sings," Benji replied, causing Pierre's head to jerk up and look at him in surprise.

"Really?!"

"Yeah. He's part of the school select choir--" Pierre gave a disappointed grunt and looked back down at his notebook. "--and pretty much snags all of the solos for concerts. Pretty sure he does competitions too, but I've never really paid too close attention to it." Benji watched the other curiously as he doodled random shapes and squiggles on the notebook in front of him. "Why the face? I thought it would be a relief to know that he likes music."

Pierre gave a long, dramatic sigh and slammed his book shut. "A high school valedictorian who is going into the most prestigious university in all of Quebec for law probably only listens to the type of shit he has to sing in choir." He gave a shrug, twirling the pen around in his fingers as if it were a drumstick, staring at it. "Plus, his mommy and daddy probably make him do it just so it looks good on his resume. I bet you he wouldn't even appreciate a good guitar solo in like...a Guns N' Roses song even if it hit him."

Joel gave a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against one of the pillars of the side of the wall.

"That's stereotyping."

All Pierre could do was shrug and look at the twins. So what if he stereotyped...didn't everyone in high school do that anyway?

Benji eyed him cautiously for a second. "I thought you wanted to know more about this dude to date him, but you're acting like you're repulsed by everything we've been telling you. Why are you still interested?"

Pierre scoffed. "He's hot." Well, that wasn't a lie and it seemed like a good enough answer considering the twins didn't say anything afterwards.

The truth was, Pierre was repulsed. David was pretty much everything that the former singer did not like. Just by finding things out about him...they had absolutely nothing in common and he seemed like a snooty, rich, know-it-all brat. Okay, so calling him a brat was from his own presumption, but he was a nasty little fucker each time he tried to make conversation. Now Pierre knew why: David probably thought the same about him.

After finding out all of this, he realized following what Carly told him to do was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he imagined.

He gave another sigh.

"Pass me another cigarette."

----

Mid November hit like killer frostbite. It seemed like it was going to be a decent winter up into that point, but the first snowfall hit around the thirteenth (how ironic) and it covered the ground with more than a couple of inches.

The snow definitely set the mood though, especially in Hayley Williams' perspective on getting ready for the winter formal. Signs had been peppered around the hallways and doors of classrooms notifying both the students and staff about the upcoming event and the little redhead couldn't be more excited about it.

There were, however, others who were completely opposed to the idea.

Take David Desrosiers for instance.

Walking into the school and coming face to face with one of the posters, he did the only thing that impulse lead him to do: he tore down the sign. This lead him to yet another fateful visit to the vice principal's office, where he sat cross-legged in the chair in front of the desk, cleaning out the dirt from under his fingernails as he waited to be reprimanded for his actions.

"Well, I have to say that the circumstance you're under for being here right now is definitely better than the time you kneed Chuck Comeau in the groin," the vice principal chose to acknowledge with a small sigh because, sometimes David Desrosiers was a lot to put up with. Especially what happened with him during the years prior.

"I'm glad you're thinking so optimistically, Mr. Campbell," David replied back dryly, averting his eyes from his nails to finally look at the other.

"David," he started. "You know that I can't exactly give you anything other than a scolding for your actions, but it was completely unnecessary. Miss Williams and the rest of the after school activities committee took the time to make these and put them up! You out of all people in here should know about freedom of speech--"

"--and what about my freedom of speech?!" David cut in, sitting up straight in his seat. He wasn't afraid of the vice principal, nor the principal and he certainly wasn't scared to show it. He had been in this same seat more times than he could count in his whole high school career, it meant nothing to him that he was 'in trouble'. "What if I don't like it? They can prance around and say and put up things however they please, but when I disagree I'm the one being thrown into this office?!"

"You ripped the poster off the wall and into six different pieces..."

David just let out an unbelieving scoff and fell back into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever. This school is ridiculous."

"Says the man who is at the top of his class. What has gotten into you, David? You started this year off so much better than the others, I thought we wouldn't be having these little visits anymore."

Still infuriated, David couldn't help but crack a grin and reply sarcastically. "Oh, but I'm sure you were looking forward to them and I hate to disappoint."

All Mr. Campbell could do was let out another sigh, adjusting the frames of his glasses from slipping down his nose.

"Go back to class, David. Mrs. Lévesque will write you a note excusing you for being late."

"Sure thing. Thanks for, once again, another moving conversation. I'll keep it close to my heart for the rest of the period." Getting up onto his feet, David adjusted the messenger bag across his shoulder before giving a small bow. "Au revoir."

A few feet away in the secretary room, Pierre sat at one of the hard seats against the wall near the vice principal's door, head leant back against the cool wall behind him. His eyes were shut and he breathed deeply, awaiting his call into the office about all the cuts he had been making in the past week.

Hanging with Benji and Joel could get super annoying at some points, but they were useful when it came to facts about the school and mostly David. Plus they always leant an ear when he needed to rant about shit. Pierre could care less about what they rambled on and on about when they smoked outside, he'd just nod and pretend to pay attention, adding on a few "hm"s and "yeah"s and "I don't know"s to the conversation so he sounded remotely interested.

Truth was, he didn't give a shit. They worshiped the ground he walked on and he loved it. They followed him around like lost puppy dogs and since the former singer was able to get attention, he was sucking up any form of it at all.

This, however, lead to cutting classes and of course his aunt found out.

He did a good job the first couple of days, getting home and erasing the messages left on the hose voicemail from the staff about him cutting before Laura was able to arrive home...but one day she came home early, got a message and called the school about it and found out everything.

So now Pierre was alone, sitting in the fucking vice principal's secretary's office waiting to go in to speak with him about what to do for all the cuts in his classes.

When the door opened, Pierre's head snapped back, opening his eyes to look in the direction and he was met with none other than David Desrosiers in all of his glory walking out of the room.

Wait, what?

Why was he in the vice principal's office? Wasn't he mister top-of-the-class-goody-two-shoes?

Pierre was staring though and David went to take a seat when he was told to wait by Mrs. Lévesque and the two boys' eyes met.

"Oh Jesus Christ..." David mumbled, averting his eyes quickly and took the seat as far away from Pierre as possible. However, Pierre took this as initiative to get up and move over to the empty seat next to the other.

"Hey!" He said brightly, ignoring the look of discomfiture on the younger boy's face.

The last time the two of them spoke, David didn't seem as opposed to him towards the end of the conversation as he was at that moment, so the whole scenario was a little disheartening...definitely not what Pierre expected, but he didn't let it hold him back.

After a moment of silence, David realized Pierre wasn't going to leave him alone until they spoke. "What do you want?"

Pierre was quick with a reply, still not paying mind to the obvious fact that David didn't want him there. "Just a moment of your time."

David rolled his eyes. "Too much to ask, now leave me alone."

"C'mon David, hear me out."

The raven haired boy's head perked up at the sound of his name, eyes meeting again as his brows knitted together in confusion. "You know my name?"

Yikes. That did make Pierre sound like some sort of stalker, but he tried to play it off cooly. "I know a lot more than you'd expect."

David snorted. "Oh really Casanova, like what?"

"Well, I know that your name is David--" the younger boy made an unamused noise in the back of his throat. "--and you have the most gorgeous hazel eyes I've ever seen in my life."

The thing that happened next made Pierre's cheeks turn a bright shade of red and his confidence level shoot down a few feet.

David laughed at him.

No, actually, David was in fucking hysterics.

Pierre's eyes narrowed and the thought of punching this guy out came to his mind, but instead he just curled his fingers around the side of the chair in a fist to control himself. He was still laughing! The stupid asshole was still doing it, not even trying to stop himself. David reached up to wipe his eyes because he actually started crying from laughing so hard and looked back at Pierre once he caught his breath.

"Okay..." he managed to wheeze out, sucking in some more air for his lungs. "...I didn't even expect you to actually try to pull off something like that, but you did and it was hilarious."

Pierre was at his last nerve. "Why was it hilarious? I was being serious--" Before he could finish speaking though, David put a hand up to silence him.

"Just stop it. Trying to win me over with words and cute sayings won't get you anywhere."

Then what would? Pierre was fucking awful at this, usually people just threw themselves into his lap. Literally. Doing shit like this just made him feel idiotic and it didn't help that it was his first time attempting it.

Glancing outside the open door to the hallway though, a poster on the wall caught his eye. The Winter Formal! Right! Pierre didn't really do dances and it was sort of a last resort to ask, but it was a sign. Definitely a sign.

"Then come to the Winter Formal with me." The question was as random as how Pierre just blurted it out of nowhere and David's eyes went wide in slight confusion.

"What?"

"Winter Formal," Pierre pointed outside to the large blue and grey poster that covered part of the wall across the hallway. "It's on the fifth of December. Go with me."

David felt like laughing again and so he did, but it was a bitter, half-hearted laugh. Was he serious? This whole fucking dance was the main reason the raven haired boy was sitting in this damn office. No fucking way was he going and certainly not with Pierre Bouvier.

"No." He replied simply, looking forward and away from Pierre to try and get Mrs. Lévesque's attention to get him the hell out of there. No such luck, she was busy chatting away on the phone to who God only knew.

Pierre scrunched his nose up. "Why not?"

"I don't do dances." Hey! Something they had in common. "Plus, I'd rather not waste my time going to be standing around a bunch of shitheads all night, especially when they don't want me there, listening to stupid music when I could be doing things much more productive."

"I could make the night productive if you go with me..." It wasn't supposed to be a sexual innuendo, but Pierre realized how much it sounded like one after the words left his lips. David shot him another disgusted look and flicked his head to toss some long black strands out of his eyes. That shouldn't have been as hot as Pierre thought it was.

"Number one: when I said that trying to win me over with words and cute sayings won't get you anywhere, that didn't mean for you to try a new technique and furthermore, number two: you're a conceited asshole. So even if I was going to go to the dance, I would not go with you. Period."

Making a face, Pierre stared at David for a moment to try and figure things out.

"Why do you always seem to have your underwear in a bunch?"

David would've been offended by the statement if he hadn't heard that over and over again for the past year now.

"I don't know, why do you always seem to have your head up your ass?"

Pierre groaned. "You're fucking hopeless."

Smirking to himself, enjoying and relishing in the moment because he finally fucking won, David leaned back in his seat. "No more attempts at woo-ing me? Or is this your try at sexytalk?"

"If I was attempting sexytalk, you'd know. Trust me."

"I bet."

There was a moment of silence and the younger of the two found it comforting, better than continuing the awkward conversation.

Soon Mrs. Lévesque finished her phone call and wrote a note down on an alarmingly pink sheet of paper, ripping it off to hold out for David to take. He gladly accepted it, standing up to snatch it out of her hand.

"Nice talking to you again, Pierre," he added on acidly before walking out of the room and back to class.

Well, at least he remembered his name?

----

"He asked me to Winter Formal."

David punctuated his words with a slam of his locker. Avril was so used to it now that it didn't even phase her, she just blinked.

"Who?"

"My stalker," he mumbled a reply, closing his eyes to reach up and rub at his temples, leaning back on his closed locker.

Avril needed a moment to recall what person David was talking about but when she figured it out, her eyes went wide with curiosity. "Pierre Bouvier?"

Not even opening his eyes, he just groaned, rubbing his temples harder.

"He gives me a headache!"

"He's kind of cute, David."

Head snapping up and eyes opening in shock, David glared at Avril as if he was shooting knives into her by using his pupils. She didn't even flinch though, instead just gave a small shrug of her shoulders. What? She thought the guy was cute and he asked her best friend on a date to the Winter Formal, she thought of this as a good thing. Okay, so maybe David would rather puke his brains out for hours rather than go to the high school dance, but it was sweet of someone to ask him! ...right?

"Cute?!" He hissed. "He's disgusting! You should hear all the things he tries on me, it's fucking awful."

Sighing out an "I know, you've told me" Avril adjusted her backpack and decided to attempt to drop the conversation.

Mission failed.

"He is not cute," David growled, walking away from the locker to head to the front doors of the school since it was done for the day. Now he just wanted to go home...no loitering around. "He is horrible. He's nothing different than Carly and the rest of those assholes, he's just new to this school. He should just fucking join their group, what a fucking match!"

Now he was heated, rambling on and on and Avril sighed, taking a few steps in haste to catch up to him, not looking forward to hearing him bitch and moan about the new guy all the way to his house. She just had to open up her big mouth.

----

"I asked him to Winter Formal."

"Aren't you grounded?" Benji's voice of wisdom mirrored Pierre Bouvier's low tone through the phone as he answered back. An annoyed whine ripped from the former singer's throat.

"Yeah, but that's not the point!" He hissed in a whisper back into the receiver. "And why are you talking so softly anyway? You're not the one who's going to get grounded for the rest of eternity if you get caught on the phone! Plus I can barely even hear your damn voice."

"Fine! Fine, is this better?" Benji's voice was at normal tone now and Pierre nodded even though it was pointless since the other couldn't see him.

"Yeah. Much better."

"Okay good. Now explain."

"Well...he said...no." Pierre struggled to get the words out. It was hard for him to admit his flaws, let alone explain a way that he was rejected and he felt like he just got a small punch in the gut. He was rejected. Again. How many times has this happened now? Suppressing a groan, he chewed on the inside of his lip. "He didn't even have to think about it. It was just like...BAM! No. Sorry."

There was silence over the line and it made Pierre want to scream. He knew that Benji (and Joel, since he was probably sitting right next to the twin, listening in on the conversation) felt sorry for him and didn't know what to say.

"I'm not going to stop trying," or I'll lose the damn bet.

"Good, you shouldn't!" Joel's voice peeped up in the conversation which was followed by a ruffle of things, an "oof!" and a thump.

"Shut up, Joel."

Pierre let out a small laugh, just imagining Benji shoving Joel over and onto the floor which obviously just happened. Quickly though, he covered his mouth, trying not to make too much noise. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught. It was a shock that he was able to steal the phone from the livingroom to make the call without being heard as he snuck down the stairs. Just because it was one in the morning did not make it any easier. Plus, any sudden moves/noises and he could wake someone up.

"How many more days do I have till the Winter Formal?" Pierre hated how he was actually going to attempt to go to a dance for this jerk, but he knew if the two of them showed up there, Carly would be impressed and would see that he's really trying to do what he was told.

Benji gave a soft hum in thought before he replied. "About three weeks, so a little over twenty-one days...give or take."

A little over twenty-one days? A lot could happen in basically a month's time...Pierre was definitely up for the challenge.

"I need to know where I can catch him during the day...do you ever see him around? Leave classes at certain times?"

"No. He takes honors classes and those are usually sectioned off to one specific side of the building."

Well, that definitely made sense. Pierre found that he recognized a lot more people in the school than he realized because he saw their faces over and over again each day by just walking in the hallways. It struck him odd that he never seemed to bump into David. The school wasn't that big, honestly.

Scratching the back of his neck, the former singer leaned back to lie down on his bed. "Where is that located?"

"Next to the science wing on the right side of the school. The honors kid's lockers are there as well."

"Alright. I think...I think I have a plan."

----

Waking up the next morning, Pierre actually wanted to get up early. Not on time, but early. This was a weird thing considering Aunt Laura usually had to drag his ass out of bed, but he was up long before his alarm went off and was showered and dressed before it even hit five thirty. Walking downstairs, he was hit with the smell of something that made his stomach growl.

Okay, so, he rarely ate breakfast, but if Aunt Laura made something for him, today was an exception.

Maybe the nerves were making him hungry, he didn't really know, but he walked into the kitchen to get something to eat. He blinked when he came face to face with Patrick who was heating up two slices of toast, reaching up to grab at a box of Cheerios in one of the overhead cabinets. He was still clad in his pj's, hair sloppy and barefoot, clearly not ready for school at all. Their eyes met and the cousin's narrowed before he looked away and put the cereal on the counter.

Clutching his bag over his shoulder, Pierre stood there awkwardly. "Where's, uh, Aunt Laura?" He asked, slightly confused. She was the one who was usually up making breakfast at this time.

Patrick scoffed. "Why do you suddenly care? You never come in here for breakfast."

Pierre shrugged. He was hungry, so sue him. God forbid he wanted to munch on something before he left for school?

"And I don't even want to know what you're going to get yourself into by being ready to get into school this early...drug deals, selling yourself during classes? I don't care. Don't tell me." Grabbing a bowl, he tipped the cereal to fill it. "You're even more fucked up than I thought if you're arriving this early."

With that statement, Pierre had to think for a moment. Wait. Hold up.

"Why didn't you tell Aunt Laura that I was cutting classes?"

Giving an over-exaggerated sigh, Patrick just focused on the cereal he was making for himself as he spoke. "Because, like I said on your first day: I'm not gonna be your fucking watch man all day to make sure you go to class. You can do whatever you fucking please and get caught by the staff of the school. That's what they're there for, that's their job. Not mine. Mom will find out anyway and it'll be quite obvious when you have to retake your classes next year."

Not if but when.

Patrick obviously had no faith in him, but Pierre didn't give a shit. Instead, his upper lip curled in slight disgust and he mumbled out a small 'whatever' before turning around to walk out of the kitchen. He wasn't hungry anymore. He only had about an hour to walk into town to get what he needed before walking back to school if he wanted to be able to walk through the doors a decent amount of time before first period. Continuing a conversation with his fucking annoying cousin instead would completely ruin his plans.

And his plans were going to work.

They'd better fucking work.

**** Sorry for the delay with this chapter! I haven't forgotten about the fic nor want to stop writing it, my computer just decided not to turn on for a good few weeks and I had to send it in. Boo on Apple! :( But I'm back and writing more of the fic now. Hopefully you're all enjoying it! Comments and concrit are always appreciated. :)

"What about you? Ever ridden a horse?"

2009-07-08T09:40:12Z

Title: Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy!
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: P/D obviously.
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: A short smut fic based on the Calgary show that happened last night that was fueled by these photos. (Cowboy hats, boys? Seriously? My poor, poor dirty brain!) No plot, really. Humor involved.
Warnings: Obscene language. Graphic sex.
Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I owned them. But I don't. So don't sue me. Merci beaucoup!
Dedication: To simpleplan for sparking the idea and onnaboat for giving me the 411 on the boys yesterday at the show and passing along a message from me to David!<3
Authors Notes: A part of me really didn't like how this came out because it started straying from the direction I wanted it to go, but something tells me that it's good enough to post so I figure I might as well because I hate starting works and then never finishing them. Biggest pet peeve of mine. So I hope you guys enjoy it!
*ALSO* Yes, I am still working on I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good and I'm about three-fourths done with the next chapter so that'll be posted soon! I didn't forget about it, incase anyone is wondering!

"So Pierre, I hear you like groping horses."

The singer and bassist of Simple Plan walked into the hotel room they were sharing for the night in Alberta, a few hours after their show in Calgary ended, David bouncing off over to where his bed was, giggling at his own joke.

"Oh shut up David," he rolled his eyes, sighing. "It wasn't even funny the first time you said it." Pierre flicked on the light switch and the whole room lit up, the older man's eyes focusing on the younger kicking off the shoes that were on his feet to get comfortable. Though comfortable didn't exactly mean sleeping, he looked like he was far from tired.

Making a face, David stood up again and walked over to where the singer was standing. "Au contraire, mon ami..." Taking the cowboy hat that David had brought with him from the concert and set down at the table near the door, he picked it up once again and placed it on Pierre's head. "You were the one who said it first. I was just repeating it." With a wink, David tapped the front of the hat so it slid down to Pierre's nose, averting his eyes from sight.

The singer laughed as he tilted the hat back up to see again, amused at the other (like always), but a small groan quickly followed. "You made me sound like I enjoy bestiality or some shit like that in front of that whole crowd, you sick bastard."

David just cackled, thoroughly entertained. "Nah. What happened with the golden dreams of being a cowboy though, Bouvier?" He teased, fully knowing the other made up the story at the show strictly for amusement because, well, Pierre could be a big idiot sometimes. Nudging the other in the ribs, David was getting a little too close to the singer but they were used to these games by now. It was never awkward.

Making a face, Pierre scoffed.

"I don't like horses."

The teasing continued.

"Do you have like...an irrational fear of them or something?"

Pierre threw David a quizzical look. "No? I just don't like them."

"Ever ridden one before?" David asked, eyes not on the singer's face anymore but instead looking down at where his hands ended up, playing at the hem of the other's shirt. Pierre looked down and watched the bassist's slim, nimble fingers play with the lowest button on the shirt, slipping it out of the hole and then back in. After doing this a few times he left the button out of the hole, moving up to the one above it.

"Yeah, a long time ago...not one of my fondest memories."

"What happened?" Hazel connected with brown as David looked up again, an amused glint in his eyes, fingers still slowly undoing the older man's shirt. "The horse throw you off?"

"Something like that," Pierre replied back, but clearly didn't want to elaborate or go further into the conversation of his past. "What about you? Ever ridden a horse?"

"Nooope."

Pierre blinked, shocked.

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

The stunned look on Pierre's face didn't change and David's nose scrunched up, confused. The actions with his hands and fingers sort of halted and dropped down to rest at the singer's belt buckle.

"Is it really a big deal that I haven't? There aren't many ranches in Matane...just a shitload of water and after I passed the age of like...nine I didn't feel the need or have a sudden urge to ride a horse."

Pierre shrugged. "I just thought everyone tried as a kid. Kind of like ice skating..."

The bassist's fingers traced along the area of skin that he just exposed by undoing the bottom three buttons of the singer's shirt, the tips of his index fingers running along the area of skin below Pierre's navel. The singer visibly shuddered at the contact. David grinned.

"Well I did the ice skating."

"Still not horseback riding, though."

Sighing exasperatedly, David shot the other a look. He was trying to turn him on, but he kept talking about fucking horseback riding! The conversation should've been long over by now, the two of them in bed already. "Ouais, Pierre. We just went over this. What do you wanna do, go back over to the stampede and hijack a horse and put me on top of it?"

Unable to help himself, Pierre laughed, ignoring the annoyance that crossed over David's features (because the bassist thought the other was making fun of him) and reached to hook his thumbs in the belt loops of the other's skinny jeans, pulling him close.

"Nah, but I've got another idea about something you could ride."

A look of confusion swept over David's face before the realization sunk in and he let out a breathy laugh, taking a step closer into the singer, their hips and stomachs coming into complete contact. The annoyance in his face and eyes vanished.

"Oh you do, do you?"

"Mmm..." Pierre hummed, reaching up to the off the cowboy hat with one of his hands and planted it on the bassist's head, tipping it back slightly to still see his face and eyes. "Only if you feel like being a cowboy tonight."

David grinned, despite himself. "I guess I could try..."

As a final response, Pierre leaned in for a small kiss. Their lips brushed and they stood there unmoving for a moment, David hooking his arms around the singer's neck to make him bend down a little to make the kiss easier. The chasteness of the kiss didn't last too much longer, David licking passed Pierre's lips to intrude into his mouth, tangling with the singer's.

Walking backwards, Pierre made David follow him without breaking the lip lock by tugging at the grip he still had with his fingers through the belt loops of the jeans he was wearing until the backs of his legs hit the bed and he fell back to sit on it. The bassist didn't even need to be given direction of any kind, immediately straddling the other's waist and sitting down on his lap, hands moving to the singer's chest to push him to lie down, his back on the mattress. Pulling his lips away reluctantly, David gave a small flick of his tongue at the singer's swollen bottom lip before taking it between his teeth for a quick bite and let it go to take a breath and semi-compose himself. It was hard to gain complete composition whenever he was like this with Pierre, but he just needed a moment to breathe.

Looking down at the other, the cowboy hat he was wearing started to slip down to cover his eyes again, but he reached up to fix it, pressing it down over his head in an attempt to try and make it stay.

"Is keeping this on really necessary?" David huffed, clearly irritated.

"Yes. If you take it off, you'll ruin the fucking moment."

"Kinky fucker."

Pierre laughed and David just rolled his eyes. Putting his hands to better use, he reached down and started to undo the rest of the buttons left on the singer's shirt, Pierre licking his kiss-swollen lips as he looked up and watched the other go to work on undressing him. It didn't take long before the black shirt was completely unbuttoned and Pierre was sitting up slightly to help aid David in sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms. Once it was completely off, David threw it to the side of the bed, not giving a shit about it anymore.

Getting caught offguard, Pierre flipped the two of them over so he was on top, knocking the hat off of the bassist's head slightly, tilting it back. David's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he reached up to adjust it.

"But I thought--"

"Gotta undress you first," Pierre cut him off, knowing what he was trying to say before he even got halfway through the sentence.

Oh.

David assumed that Pierre got a kick out of undressing him since the singer normally took his time with it (not like removing his pants was a task that could be quickly accomplished anyway) and he always seemed to want to do it. His hat was removed from his head and placed on the pillow next to him before Pierre's hands traveled back down to the other's waist and slid his hands up under his shirt. David's body twitched at the sudden contact of the singer's warm hands on his skin, the collision like fire burning into his stomach.

His whole body flushed hot.

Slipping his hands up his skin, David trembled anxiously beneath the touch as Pierre pulled the shirt up with him. Soon that was up and over his head, meeting the same fate as the older man's shirt, discarded and somewhere on the floor near the bed.

The hat was grabbed again and placed on top of David's head, the bassist grumbling in silent complaint, but he didn't say a word. Pierre stopped him from thinking anything about it by leaning down and flicking his tongue against his ear, the bassist practically purring in pleasure, toes curling slightly as the other dragged his tongue down his skin to his collarbone. It felt like a drag of a razor burn, a hot, wet trail and David's eyes closed, squirming against the bedspread as the other sucked at the hollow of his throat, leaving a light reddened mark.

Since his eyes were closed, David didn't really give a shit, but the hat slipped down again to cover his forehead and eyes as he tilted his head back, biting down on his bottom lip to help suppress a whimper that managed to escape his throat anyway.

Pierre's hand palmed the bassist's erection through the skin tight jeans, cupping the bulge and putting enough pressure to make the other groan out for him to do something more, something better. Fast. The singer obliged, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in such a slow way that the noise sounded obscene to David's ears.

"Just take...my fucking pants off already..." he let out between pants of breath, eyes still closed, hat covering half of his face and Pierre smirked.

It was always such a fucking task to remove David's pants, Pierre thought he should win a gold medal or even a fucking nobel prize for being able to remove that shit from his body. This time it was no exception, it looked like his pants were honestly painted onto his legs to begin with. Managing to slide the jeans off of his hips and down his legs, Pierre peeled them off like a second skin and tossed them to the side. His socks came off next, Pierre not having to worry about removing underwear because, well, David didn't feel the need to actually wear underwear that night.

Halting his actions for a moment, Pierre sat up slightly, looking down at the now completely naked sans counting the cowboy hat still perched on top of David's freshly dyed raven hair, smirking to himself. The bassist flustered, body trembling and ready to be fucking touched already.

Removing his own pants, Pierre moved in record speed to get them off, tugging them down his hips along with his boxers to save time and kicked them off. Once they were gone and not to be worried about, the singer dived down to capture the other's lips in a kiss, plunging his tongue into his mouth eagerly as he hooked an arm around the other's tiny waist and brought him up off the bed, arching to make skin contact.

David could feel his mind practically melt away at the collision, moaning loud into the kiss, the sound getting swallowed up by Pierre's mouth, hips bucking up and feeling the other's cock slide against his own, slick with precum.

"Prep me," he hissed the command against the singer's lips, not being able to wait any longer. Teasing was unnecessary...at least this time around.

"Demanding..." Pierre teased back, a laugh tinting his voice, just enjoying watching the other get all flustered and huffy.

"Says the one who's ordering me to keep the fucking cowboy hat on..."

Good point.

Pierre didn't hesitate and broke away the lip lock to bring two fingers up into his mouth to suck on fervently, making sure to coat the digits the best he could with his saliva. David watched with eager eyes, both of Pierre's hands disappearing as he reached down and lifted the bassist's hips up off of the bed and slid a digit inside of him to coat his inner walls. Grunting in slight discomfort, David chewed on his bottom lip as he got used to the stretch and burn from the singer's one finger inside of him, deep and twisting down to the knuckle. Sucking in a breath, he calmed himself down, exhaling through his nose.

"More."

That's all David had to say before Pierre slipped in another finger, the bassist curling his leg around the other's waist to get situated better, his other foot flat against the bed. The singer started a quick motion of sliding his fingers in and out, past the tight ring of muscle when he felt David get a little more comfortable and ease down.

Biting his lip, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Pierre curled his fingers to rub against David's prostate, the bassist's body jolting in a wave of shock and pleasure when his digits tapped against the sensitive spot.

"Yeah..." he cooed shamelessly, rocking his hips down to pull the fingers in deeper, to hit the same spot over again but harder the second time around. He got his wish and mewled out a wordless sound, cheeks flushing a deep color of pink.

Leaning down again, Pierre's lips brushed against David's earlobe, nudging the hat away slightly with his forehead for better access. "You like that?" He asked, voice in a whisper but so low that he could feel his voice vibrate in the back of his throat, halting his fingers so that they were deep inside of the younger man, rubbing roughly against the pad of nerves.

"Ohh yeah..." was the only response that David could manage, cooing the words out, body trembling and he felt a shiver run down his spine, not sure if it was because of how good the constant stimulation to his prostate felt...or if it was because of how the singer was speaking to him. Pierre spent a few more seconds fingering the same spot, altering on pressure and speed until he rendered the bassist into a mess of pants and moans and begs.

"Pierre...God...p-please..." he whined, biting his bottom lip so hard that he knew it would probably still be bruised come the morning. As if it would lessen the pleasure creeping through his body...as if David wanted the pleasure to be lessened.

Not wasting any more time, Pierre knew exactly what David was craving for and he flipped them back around so that the bassist was lying on top of him, his own back pressed against the mattress looking up at him. In the process of being flipped back to the original position, David's hat was knocked off his head, but Pierre didn't really give a shit. He reached up, tangling his fingers in the semi-short (but long enough to grab) raven strands of hair on the bassist's head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Tongue met long before mouths, kissing lazily as David reached down and played with Pierre's cock. Wrapping his fingers around his shaft in a loose grip, the bassist started a slow rhythm of dragging his palm up the length and then back down, making the other whimper with need into his mouth.

Pierre was never one for foreplay. He actually fucking hated it and would rather skip it, get down to business right away. David was the master at it, go figure, so at the same time that the singer despised it...he was able to at least enjoy it (to a certain point) with the bassist. He was damn good at it, so even though he still complained about it sometimes, it took him a bit longer than he ever did with anyone else.

When the actions of David's hand sped up, so did his kissing...tongue becoming a little more frantic in the other's mouth as he licked at and battled for dominance with the other's tongue. On the upstroke, the bassist's talented hand alternated by flicking his wrist at the head or swiping his thumb over the sensitive tip, the downstroke squeezing at the base of his cock. Pierre's body shook from the built up pleasure and pleaded for him to stop and get on with the actual fucking, but the words got caught up and swallowed into David's mouth. Pulling away from the other's mouth, the bassist flicked his tongue at his top lip with a snicker of amusement.

He wasn't done yet.

Slinking his body down the other's, Pierre let a whine of frustration spill from his lips before David slipped his lips around his dick and took him completely into his mouth. Air halted in his throat, Pierre choking on it slightly in surprise and groaned loud, bringing his hand to his mouth and balling it into a fit before biting down on it. His other hand still had a grip on the bassist's hair, tightening to hold on.

Giving Pierre's cock a few good, thorough sucks, bobbing his head and slipping his lips from head to base a few times, he pulled his mouth away when he thought it was coated with enough spit. A small "pop"ing noise was made and David giggled, licking his lips and licking away at a small string of precum that was still connected to his lips from the head of the other's cock. Flicking his tongue against the slit, David groaned at the taste of the other man, moving himself up to sit back on his hips, starting to situate himself.

"Wait, wait, wait!"

David blinked at Pierre's random outburst, but the other sat up and leaned over to grab at the cowboy hat that had fallen off a couple of minutes ago, plopping it back onto the other's head with a wide grin.

"Can't ride me without the hat, cowboy." Giving a wink, David just let out a small, almost unbelieving laugh and shook his head, reaching up to fix the hat so it was on his head better.

"Might as well give me a fucking lasso and matching cowboy boots to go along with this shit..."

Pierre slapped his ass. "Don't be cheeky with me, you're ruining the moment!"

"Right," David practically mumbled sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "The moment. Whoops. Désolé."

Reaching around to grab the singer's cock, David leaned forward so that his weight was on his knees as he positioned the tip at his entrance. He teased himself for a moment, rubbing the tip at his hole and he groaned, tilting his head down slightly, biting his lip and closing his eyes. He could feel Pierre start to shake underneath him.

Pierre's hips jerked up impatiently. "Fuck, chéri! S'il vous plaît...c'mon..."

Opening his eyes so hazel looked down and bore into deep brown, David positioned himself and slid down Pierre's cock, taking him in all the way to the hilt.

A hiss escaped his lips as he felt himself get filled up completely by the singer, the feeling almost overwhelming, but David swallowed hard and composed himself, wiggling his hips to get used to the feeling as fast as he could. It didn't hurt anymore, especially from the amount of times they did it, it was just a stretch and a burn that he had to feel at first before he knew it would morph into something that felt so much better.

It was masochistic in a way, though. There was something about the way Pierre stretched his insides when he was filled up by his cock that turned on the bassist in such a way he couldn't explain.

Knocking David out of his thoughts, Pierre gave a thrust up to gain his attention and tell him to move already, the palm of his hand coming in collision with his ass again for another smack.

"Ride it," the singer grunted out.

David just laughed, giving his hips a little swerve to semi-do the trick and Pierre groaned in teasing pleasure. Reaching to grab both of the other's hands, the bassist brought them up over the singer's head, holding them against the pillow to make sure Pierre watched himself.

"Don't push it," he teased, leaning down to nip at the other's bottom lip before lifting his body off of the other's, sliding halfway off of his dick before rocking back down to the hilt. Pierre made a strangled sounding noise in the back of his throat, whimpering when the action was repeated. Not enjoying how his body was slightly hunched over, David let go of Pierre's wrists and sat up, sliding his hands down from the singer's shoulders to his chest to hold himself up.

It was easy and quick for David to find a good rhythm, starting off slowly and easing off of the singer's cock up until only the head was inside of him before slamming himself back down..but once he started to speed up, David only moved up the length halfway. The sounds waterfalling from Pierre's lips made it clear to yes...go faster, harder, more and David bit down on his bottom lip in a way that was almost too sexy, so obscene that Pierre couldn't help himself, thrusting his hips up to meet a thrust down from the bassist's body. He wanted to make David scream. The younger man yelped out in slight surprise, but hummed in contentment soon after, a wicked, knowing smile appearing on his lips.

Rocking his hips forward and shifting himself on the other's lap, David focused on pleasing Pierre as much as he could, keeping the built up rhythm he had going on. His nails dug into his skin as his prostate was barely brushed with the tip of Pierre's cock, a gutteral moan leaving his throat, grinding his hips down for more stimulation.

Pierre got the hint though and gave a hard thrust of his hips upwards, slamming directly into the bassist's prostate.

"Fuck!"

David saw stars flash before his eyes and he almost fell off of the singer in shock, finger's curling and hands slipping over his skin from sweaty palms.

"Sainte merde," David cursed, panting for breath as he rocked his hips down again and licked his dry from breathing too heavily lips. A wordless cry was emitted when Pierre gave another buck of his hips and David decided to opt for holding onto the headboard of the bed instead of the other's chest.

Finger's grasping the board so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, David mewled as Pierre repetitively pounded into him, thrusting up into him vigorously, driving up right into his prostate. David's head hung low, eyes squeezed shut tightly, teeth sinking into his pouty pink bottom lip as he tried to keep up, impaling himself over and over onto the singer's cock.

"Fuck me," David mewled out, opening his eyes to look down at the other, watching his every move. "Please..harder..."

Because he asked so nicely, Pierre obliged with no hesitation, slamming his hips up harder with the thrusts given into the bassist. David cried out each time Pierre slid into him completely, whimpers becoming increasingly high in pitch with each thrust.

David was getting close, unable to hold himself back much longer if the singer would keep up this pace. Pierre was unfaltering though, a steady rhythm of his hips and he reached down with one of his hands to jerk David off in tandem to it all.

White flashed before the bassist's eyes and he came hard with a cry of Pierre's name on his lips, spilling himself hot and sticky all over the singer's hand and stomach. His stomach muscles clenched, the same with the walls around the singer's cock and Pierre was starting to lose it, the bucks of his lips starting to get sloppy as he was nearing the edge too.

Riding on his high, David moved with Pierre, but it wasn't fast enough for the singer, the younger man too wrapped up in the numbing pleasure that coursed through his veins to give him what he wanted...needed. Frustrated, Pierre flipped David on his back once more, reaching to hook his legs around his waist as he pounded into him relentlessly, edging closer and closer to the brink. David's hands grasped the sheets of the bed tightly, back pressed hard against the mattress as Pierre fucked him, arching and digging his heels into the singer's lower back to coax him to cum.

Dizzy-drunk, hyper aware and overly sensitive from orgasm, David growled as the singer tried to reach orgasm, tightening himself around his cock, squeezing the muscles enveloping his length.

"Fucking cum for me..." he purred, voice raspy from still being out of breath, licking his lips as he watched the singer.

Pierre came with a grunt of pleasure, David groaning as he felt the singer fill up his insides. He collapsed onto the bassist, head on his chest as he gasped for air to fill his burning lungs, swallowing down some. Hearing the steady heartbeat in David's chest, he smiled to himself, kissing over the area, letting his lips linger for a moment or so.

Body calming down, David reached up and raked his fingers through the singer's sweaty mop of hair and gave one more small giggle for the night.

"Next time we're in Calgary, I'll wear the boots...if you're lucky."

Thinking with the glass half empty was now what Pierre had reduced himself into.

2009-06-26T18:09:24Z

Title: I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good (4/?)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17 Eventually.
POV: 3rd.
Summary: Eighteen year old Pierre Bouvier's perfect world of potential stardom comes to a crashing halt when his ego over-inflates and is kicked out of the only thing he had going good in his life: his band Reset. They disband and the former singer is tossed back into high school where he comes to the realization that no one wants to befriend a washed up wannabe rock star...except, oddly, the most popular group of kids in College Beaubois. Under one condition. He needs to pass a test to make sure he's worthy: nail the biggest loser of the school before prom night; David Desrosiers.
Disclaimer: Not real, wish they were, blah blah blah, etc etc.
Dedication: This one goes out to my bffl kristen aka simpleplan for keeping me sane. xoxo.
Author's Note: I haven't done chaptered fics in a long time, plus this is my first time ever writing one that is completely AU. So be nice!
Also: I just started using this journal for more than just communities, so if you want to, feel free to add me! I'd love more friends. :)
Previous Chapters: one / two / three

This don't mean that you own me. This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell, but things worked out just like you wanted too. If you see me out, you don't know me. Try to turn your head, try to give me some room to figure out just what I'm going to do. Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do. It's best if we all keep this quiet instead and I couldn't tell why everyone here was doing me like they do...but I'm sorry now and I don't know how to get it back to good.
- Matchbox 20

Things were not looking good for Pierre Bouvier. Another two weeks had passed by with midterms long gone and results in student's hands.

In every single subject, Pierre had managed the task of getting a grade of sixty or lower.

How could this have happened to him? He had spent a marginal amount of the time given to him to study up for all of the exams and he did the worst thing imaginable: he panicked on the days of the tests. How could he not, though? There was so much riding on him passing everything. He would be able to fucking graduate and get the hell out of his aunt's house...possibly back into the music scene again.

That all started to fade away into a hopeless dream again though and it was putting a damper on the former singer's attitude with his life.

What if he could never have what he had with Reset ever again? Even with a solo career? Right now school was his only option and it wasn't even a good option. This was not what he wanted to do. School wasn't his forte and going to University after he graduated certainly wasn't on his list of life goals.

Thinking with the glass half empty was now what Pierre had reduced himself into.

Nothing was working out.

Nothing was going according to plan.

He didn't even have a fucking plan to begin with though, now that he thought about it. When he graduated, what did he expect to go? Call back his old manager and plead over the phone with him to give him a second shot? Ha. Like that would work.

"Pierre Charles Bouvier!"

Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the former singer was jolted from his jumbled thoughts by the sound of his aunt yelling so loud that he could've sworn the neighbors could hear it. He closed his eyes and prayed to God and everything that was holy that he could just disappear.

"Fuck..."

The door slammed open (Pierre was really getting sick of the fact that he couldn't get some fucking privacy with a goddamn lock) and Laura glared from the space between the rooms, holding up an opened letter in one of her hands.

Swallowing, Pierre opened his eyes and sat up slightly in bed, feigning innocence as he looked at his aunt.

"Oh, so I guess report cards came in today?"

"You bet your ass they did," she replied, not missing a heartbeat, turning the paper around in her hand to read the pathetic grades out loud to her nephew. "English, sixty. Math, fifty. Chemistry, fifty five--"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Pierre cut her off, reaching up to rub one of his temples because, holy shit, he was getting a headache from how loud Laura was talking. "I get it, I fucked up! Can we move on now? I was trying to get some fucking rest...something I haven't been able to do in fucking weeks, ever since I came to this fucking nightmare of a life!"

The easiest way for Laura to react would be to continue yelling, tell Pierre that he was a failure and that he was continuing to fuck up, but instead she pursed her lips together and took a moment to think.

"Why didn't you tell me you failed all of your midterms, Pierre?" Her voice and dropped a decent amount of notches in volume, but he could still feel her anger with every word spoken.

He sighed, annoyed. "I don't know Aunt Laura, maybe because I wasn't looking forward to you screaming your fucking lungs out at me?" She may have been trying to get through to him and try to talk reasonably, but Pierre wasn't having any of that. He refused to talk to her like a normal human being. All of this shit was her fault.

Well, it wasn't like she didn't try. Eyes narrowing, she walked right over to where Pierre was laying on the bed and threw the report card into his lap. She was practically seething now, sick of the bullshit Pierre was playing. Yes, she was doing her sister a favor by taking him into her hands, but was it really worth it? Letting him go back to his mother wouldn't solve anything and it would probably make the situation worse by tenfold, but how much more would she be able to handle without going insane?

"You listen to me." Pointing her finger at his face, he just ended up staring at her, mouth shut. He may have been annoyed and didn't give a flying fuck about her, but she could scare the shit out of him at times and, well, this was definitely one of those times. "Your attitude? It's disgusting. You need to fucking change. If you can't get good enough grades to pass your classes, then I guess you're gonna have to retake them again next year." Her lips pressed together as she grit her teeth, mentally reminding herself that this was the ultimate form of punishment that he could possibly receive. Pierre Bouvier could kick and scream and throw as many fits and obscenities as he could...but it would not change the fact that he was stuck in a shit town where no one liked him or wanted to get to know him.

Pierre didn't say a word back, he just let the words sink into his mind before he glared back, an obvious fuck you being mentally said in return.

"And you're grounded."

He blinked.

"Yeah, okay."

"I'm serious."

"And so am I!" Pierre yelled back, sitting up completely now, practically jumping off of the mattress to his feet. "Where the fuck am I gonna go, huh? I've got no friends, there's no fucking place to go in this town anyway, especially by myself so grounding me is the stupidest thing to do. It is fucking pointless."

"Well I guess you shouldn't be complaining about it since it's moot anyway."

----

Once again, Pierre found himself paying more attention in trying to find David on school campus in between classes and thinking of ways to win him over when he should've been listening to lessons. It wasn't that he had a crush on the guy, no, he barely knew him...he just wanted to keep up the deal he had made with Carly.

The funny thing was though, she was still ignoring him.

Pierre should've expected that. The deal wasn't that she'd befriend him while he was trying to nail David, it was to do it when everything was over and done with. He had an inkling though, that she stopped spreading around rumors about him considering that he hadn't heard anything new about himself around the school. It wasn't like the shit talking and the teasing would stop any time soon...but at least no more bullshit lies were taking the tolls of people's minds.

Running late, Pierre dashed down the long hallway of the top floor of the school, weaving in and out of the crowds of people who thought it would be nice to just randomly stop and make conversations in the middle of the hall.

Normally, he wouldn't care about being late by a minute to two, but this teacher he had to deal with...he was ridiculously strict and the former singer didn't want to push it, especially since he was failing the class. He slowed down quite a bit though when he realized it was impossible to run without bumping into random people that wouldn't get the fuck out of the way, and gave up trying to get to class on time.

Whatever. it's not like it'd be the end of the world anyway.

Not being able to help himself, Pierre turned his head to look into every classroom that he passed that had a door open. He had always been pretty nosy and now curiosity was getting the best of him. At this point he was down by the history wing of the building, the majority of maps and globes in each of the classrooms he passed making that obvious.

History was not until fourth period for him, so this didn't exactly help with where he had to go. The science wing wasn't too far down in the direction he was going, but the number of the room did say 211 and he was passing 230 and declining.

The thing that Pierre really needed to learn that school year was to look forward and pay attention when he walked because, once again, the second time that year, his body slammed into somebody else's. This time though, he didn't trip over his feet and managed to catch himself before his back was on the floor.

"Ugh, what the fuck?!" This time the former singer decided not to be so nice, especially since no one in the school gave a shit about him anyway. What was the fucking point? You get what you deserve.

Looking forward, he eyed the person he collided with this time. A guy around his height who looked about his age with short hair and soft brown eyes looked back with an eyebrow raised.

"Whoa, chill out dude. It takes two to make a collision like that, you know." Pierre was about to open his mouth and say something snippy back to the other before he could get spoken down to again because, really, his ego couldn't take much more. The other continued before he could, though. "But don't sweat it. Are you new here? I've never seen you around."

Stunned at the other's genuine politeness, Pierre was rendered speechless at first.

"Uh...yeah, I am." What the fuck? He thought everyone knew who he was at this point...all the talking the school did, how could they not know?

The other's smile widened. "Well I'm Joel! And this..." he gestured to his right where a boy who looked exactly like him (minus a large pink area in a random spot in his hair and a nose ring) stood, eyeing him curiously. The kind of guys they seemed to look like, Pierre would've expected them to be at one of the shows he'd be performing in. "...this is my twin brother Benji."

A hand raised for a small wave, but the other twin kept quiet and eyed Pierre suspiciously and the former singer knew why. Benji must've been putting things together now, the rumors and the speculation about Pierre starting to unfold in his mind and he was ready for him to mention it and have the guys ditch him. Like everyone else did.

"Hey," Pierre finally managed to speak in counter to the wave and gave a small smile. "I'm, uh...Pierre."

Benji's eyes lit up.

"Oh holy shit, Joel!" Here it comes. "This is Pierre! Pierre Bouvier! From Reset! I knew he looked so fucking familiar!" Both of them were now looking at him in awe and Pierre's eyes sort of went wide in slight confusion.

Wait, what?

"Oh man..." Joel breathed, pretty much reaching into Pierre's personal space to take his hand to shake it even though it wasn't offered to him for one. "We are...big fans."

"Huge," Benji cut in, correcting his brother.

All Pierre could do at first was blink. "I...uh...really? You are?"

"Dude, your band is fucking brilliant!"

Benji nudged Joel's side with his elbow, hard and the calmer looking of the two let out an "OW!" before his eyes widened in slight horror and he hesitated, tripping over his words as he spoke again. "I, um, er...well...it was brilliant..." he ended up mumbling the last part, obviously feeling like an idiot for the mistake. "Way to make me look like a fucking douche, jackass!" He hissed back to Benji as if Pierre couldn't hear him.

The former singer just stood there, not knowing what to say and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as the twins fought.

"Terrible break up though, I'm sorry it happened. World will miss out on great music." Benji finally spoke again and Joel piped in with a small 'yes' to agree, the pink-haired twin slapping his shoulder to get him to shut up. "Don't mind my brother, he's a moron."

Joel rolled his eyes and rubbed the spot of his shoulder that was attacked and Pierre let out a slightly nervous laugh, still unsure what to say or do. All of this attention was actually starting to feel quite foreign.

"Well, uh...thanks for being such big fans?" Pierre tried to sound as sincere as he possibly could, but the thank you came out as sort of a question. The twins didn't even take notice of it.

"No need to thank us!" Benji replied with a smile and Joel vigorously nodded his head along.

There was a moment of silence where Pierre struggled for conversation, the two other boys just standing there and looking at him with such admiration it took the singer aback. Finally unable to take it anymore, he opened his mouth to say something along the lines of "you haven't heard all of the nasty rumors going on?" or "you don't think of me any different from all the bullshit lies about me?" but the bell rang for the next class to start and it over-rode his voice.

Benji just scoffed at the noise and once it ended, he eyed Pierre curiously.

"Wanna hang with us this period? We're ditching math class because there's an exam going on that we didn't study for."

Hesitating for a moment, Pierre thought about what Aunt Laura would say and/or do if she found out he was cutting class...but then again he hadn't exactly had a normal hang out with people who could actually stomach in him in awhile. He fucking loved the attention. Weighting out his options, he knew exactly what he should do. Needed to do.

"Yeah, definitely. Just make sure it's nowhere near the History wing."

----

Around the same time but taking place a floor lower, David hung out by Avril's locker as she rummaged through the mess of papers and garbage at the bottom to find a report that she was supposed to hand in a week ago. He sighed, bored, looking down at his hands as he picked some dirt out of one of his fingernails. Letting out a strangled noise of frustration from her throat because she was losing her patience, David suppressed a laugh as he saw papers flying out in all directions.

"You're just making it worse, you know," he pointed out. "I think it's a lost cause."

"Shut up. No it's not. You're wrong!"

She clearly wasn't going to give up, so David just let out another sigh and adjusted the messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

"I'm just gonna leave you and go outside then...because this is cutting into lunch time and as much as I support you and you handing in work that's verging on two weeks late so you can graduate, I think I'll pass for today."

Stopping, Avril looked up at him from the floor and narrowed her eyes.

"Fine! You win." Getting up on her feet again, she brushed dirt and pieces of paper off of her tan dickies pants. "I give up! Lets go eat lunch...you happy now?"

David beamed. "Ecstatic!"

His happiness was quick to fade though. Carly and Sebastien walked by with their crew, David getting knocked forward slightly by Jeff who walked into him and pushed him on purpose.

"Watch where you're standing, loser!"

As if on cue, Carly and Liz laughed hysterically like he said something mind-blowingly hilarious and Sebastien just smirked, showing off his middle finger while Jeff added on an obscene gesture to his crotch.

Both Avril and David watched them walk down the hall, Avril shaking her head with a scoff when they were finally a decent amount of feet out of the way and out of their lives. At least until the next encounter.

"I'm surprised they can all walk down the hall and fit with those four egos combined," she spat, collecting her books better in her hands before slipping them into her bag.

However, David's reaction was not one of which Avril was used to. Usually he was calm and just shrugged it off, but something inside of him snapped and he couldn't suppress the anger any longer.

"I fucking hate them," he seethed, slamming Avril's locker shut for her. Luckily enough for her, she managed to jump out of the way quick enough so her fingers didn't get caught.

"Breathe in..." Avril said as calmly as she could while David continued to eye the group as they walked down the hall, giggling like idiots. "...exhale slowly."

"No. I am sick of them acting like they own the fucking school! They don't and they're fucking pathetic for thinking they do! I'm tired of them pushing me around just because...just because..." Realizing his anger was getting the best of him, David decided to just let it go because in an hour it would go back to none of it even mattering and it wasn't worth it. It never was. "Nevermind," he mumbled, feeling his heartrate slow as he calmed himself down. "Fuck it."

"It's not worth it," Avril said, voicing his thoughts and went to link her arm with David's to pull him close so they could walk outside together. "Just remember that this will all be over in a couple of months when we graduate."

Graduating. Right. That should've been a relief, but it wasn't...all in all, it just made David's stomach twist in nerves thinking about it. He prided himself on putting up such a good front about leaving school and going to University, but it terrified him and not for the reason it terrified most students. Avril was oblivious though, considering he didn't say anything to her about it, so he bit down nervously on the inside of his cheek in his own attempt to calm himself down.

"Yeah. Then everything will be so much better."

Even David knew his reply sounded a little stretched, a little forced into it being something that thrilled him, but oddly Avril didn't seem to notice. Maybe he was just good at fooling people...he had pretty much perfected lying about this for a good few years anyway.

She let go of his arm to push open the doors to the outside of the school, holding it open for David to follow her once she was outside. The cool November wind hit them once they were both outside, David buttoning up the rest of his coat to keep himself warm. Soon it was going to be too cold to do this, so even though he was debating just staying inside in the warmth of the school cafeteria, he figured he'd rather not just yet since they had a few good days left of getting fresh air during their lunch period. Continuing their path, they linked their arms again and headed over to where the bleachers were by the track at the front of the school.

Continuing the conversation, Avril spoke up again. "Your father knows you've gotten accepted into McGill, right?"

David tried his best not to visibly cringe at the question and just swallowed to try and get some spit in his mouth.

"Yeah," he said dryly. "He knows."

"Then you must be so excited!" Avril chirped, letting go of his arm to get in front of him, walking backwards to their normal hang out spot so she'd be able to speak to him face to face. "I'm sure he was so happy to know that you got into the school you both have been pushing for during these four years of high school!"

"Thrilled," he corrected sarcastically, though there wasn't much enthusiasm behind his voice. Avril just shrugged it off and blamed it on the encounter with Carly and the others just moments prior.

Getting to the corner spot on the bleachers, Avril wiped away some dirt of the area before plopping down on it and setting her bag down on the floor. David adjusted his coat before doing the same and let his eyes wander over to the track where he watched the gym class get ready to do whatever it was that they needed to do for the period.

Receiving a poke at his shoulder, David was snapped out of his daze by Avril offering him the second half of her sandwich which she was keeping in her backpack. He declined with a shake of his head and tucked some loose strands of hair behind his ear as he looked out onto the field again.

All this talk about University had made him lose his appetite.

----

Taking a drag from the cigarette that he had just lit up, Benji held it out to Pierre as he exhaled the smoke. He didn't even hesitate before taking it from the twin's hand, the former singer hadn't been able to so much as touch a cigarette since he arrived in the shitty town and it was long overdue for him to inhale some nicotine. Keeping the smoke in his lungs for a good few seconds, Pierre then exhaled, feeling his whole demeanor change, feeling so much more relaxed and unstressed than he had been seconds prior.

"Goddamn..." he breathed out the word with the smoke, closing his eyes as he went to take another drag, repeating the process. "I feel like I haven't smoked in fucking ages."

Benji was more than happy to satisfy Pierre, opening up the pack of cigarettes he had to take out another for himself.

"Then finish that one, you apparently need it more than I do," he joked.

Since he was in the middle of taking another drag, Pierre bowed his head as a slight thank you and Joel snatched the unlit cigarette out of Benji's hands.

"You owe me one too."

"Well I can fucking share it," he replied, taking the cigarette back to light it again and Pierre just gave a small laugh at the two, shaking his head as he let out the smoke in his lungs, mixed with the cloud of his breath from the cold air.

They had found a good place to sneak off and smoke. The front of the school had a few bushes and a tree that hid them away from any of the windows from the classrooms, so no one would really be able to catch them...minus some of the security that walked around the school, but there had been no run in with any of them yet.

Like true underage high school students, the three of them smoked the cigarettes as fast as they could, not wanting to get caught...especially not Pierre considering the mess he'd have to go back home to. He was already going to be in deep shit for cutting class, getting caught smoking on campus wouldn't exactly make the conversation with Aunt Laura any easier.

"So I think all of that shit going around about you is ridiculous," Joel finally spoke up, taking the last drag from the cigarette and dropping it to the ground to crush it out with the toe of his converse.

All Pierre could do was just shrug, mirroring the twin's action with his own cigarette. "I'm so used to it now, it's kind of sad."

"Well it's bullshit! You don't deserve that kind of crap, no one does. This whole fucking school is pathetic, I'm sorry you have to go here...especially coming from a tour with Green Day."

Benji gave another elbow to Joel's gut to get him to shut the fuck up and glared at his brother to make it clear. Pierre just sighed. There really wasn't much to say about the situation, it was what it was.

"It's all good. Only about eight more months of this torture, yeah?" Pierre tried to joke, but he couldn't even convince himself it would be okay. Instead, he just shrugged once again and leaned against the brick wall of the building, looking around as the twins argued in whispers with each other.

His attention was suddenly off of that though because he spotted someone familiar sitting down at the corner of the bleachers, ink black hair whipping across his face from the wind as he gazed out onto the field at nothing in particular. David. Pierre recognized the girl sitting with him too, the same girl he was with at the lunch table a few weeks ago and he figured that they must've been pretty close.

Thinking for a moment, he wondered what would happen if he went over there and tried to make conversation again, but he doubted that it would turn into anything positive.

This was the first time he had seen David in weeks and he was hesitating going up to him? He could miss out on the chance to actually get somewhere and work on his bet with Carly, but his feet couldn't move. He felt like a retard.

Pierre figured he must've been staring because it took a few good "Pierre!"s and a snap of fingers in front of his face to get him to snap out of the daze he was in and turn his attention back to Benji and Joel.

"Sorry," Pierre apologized quickly, turning to look back at the others sympathetically.

That didn't cut it though, the twin's curiosity getting the best of them and they looked in the direction of where the former singer was looking just seconds ago, spotting Avril and David on the bleachers. Pierre felt as if his privacy was being invaded, but he said nothing and instead just sighed and dug the toe of his shoe into the ground as he looked down and paid attention to that instead.

"Oooh, does someone have a crush?" Benji teased and Joel looked a little concerned with sort of off-put Pierre for a moment as he looked back up again.

He didn't have a crush...no way! But how could he tell the twins about his plans? It just made him look like the ultimate asshole and right now they were the only ones giving him the time of day in the shithole that the school was. Did he really want to fuck that up?

He was still silent though and that invited a nudge to his shoulder from Benji who was grinning so wide that he resembled something like the Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland. "C'mon, spill! David or Avril?"

Avril was pretty cute, maybe he could throw off any connection to his plans by saying her instead of David...but Pierre weighed the opinions and thought for a moment. They obviously knew their names, maybe they knew more? Benji and Joel might be the key to trying to get to David that Pierre so desperately needed.

"The guy, David."

Joel looked relieved and Benji's smile grew, if it was even possible.

"Do you know anything about him?" Pierre asked curiously. "I've been trying to get his attention but he won't even look me in the eye when he talks to me...it's getting ridiculously frustrating."

Joel and Benji both looked at each other for a moment as if speaking telepathically, just reading each other's faces and they both smirked before looking back at him.

"Oh yeah," Joel said with a nod. "We know a shitload about him."

"Would you guys help me out?"

Putting an arm around Pierre's shoulders, Benji pulled the former singer close in a slight side hug.

"Hell yeah, we'll help you get him."

Didn't anyone know that popularity meant nothing but shit after they graduated?

2009-06-13T05:31:16Z

Title: I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good (3/?)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17 Eventually.
POV: 3rd.
Summary: Eighteen year old Pierre Bouvier's perfect world of potential stardom comes to a crashing halt when his ego over-inflates and is kicked out of the only thing he had going good in his life: his band Reset. They disband and the former singer is tossed back into high school where he comes to the realization that no one wants to befriend a washed up wannabe rock star...except, oddly, the most popular group of kids in College Beaubios. Under one condition. He needs to pass a test to make sure he's worthy: nail the biggest loser of the school before prom night; David Desrosiers.
Disclaimer: Not real, wish they were, blah blah blah, etc etc.
Dedication: This one goes out to my bffl kristen aka simpleplan for keeping me sane. xoxo.
Author's Note: I haven't done chaptered fics in a long time, plus this is my first time ever writing one that is completely AU. So be nice!
Also: I just started using this journal for more than just communities, so if you want to, feel free to add me! I'd love more friends. :)
Previous Chapters: one / two

This don't mean that you own me. This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell, but things worked out just like you wanted too. If you see me out, you don't know me. Try to turn your head, try to give me some room to figure out just what I'm going to do. Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do. It's best if we all keep this quiet instead and I couldn't tell why everyone here was doing me like they do...but I'm sorry now and I don't know how to get it back to good.
- Matchbox 20

Two weeks had passed since the horrific events of Pierre's first day at College Beaubios and nothing had changed. No one spoke to him and the former singer either got laughed at or stared at like he was a criminal when he walked passed students in the hallways. He didn't know which one was worse, they were both pretty terrible.

It didn't have much effect on his ego though and Patrick was convinced that it had blown up to a size that was proportionate to the capacity of the universe and basically...it would never be able to shrink down. Living with his cousin was practically like living with a newborn puppy who needed to soak up every single bit of attention that he possibly could in a twenty-four hour basis. Not that he was getting it all of the time, but Laura still felt pretty bad a lot since Pierre came home rejected and pretty much miserable every day after school.

That girl Carly, she had really done the trick. She must've been saying more shit to the kids around the school in her spare time about Pierre because it was like each day got worse. It didn't stop the singer from trying to get attention from girls, asking them out on a regular basis...however, it made them just laugh in his face and walk away.

He learned pretty quickly that being a washed up wannabe rockstar wasn't very attractive.

She seemed to be the "it" girl, just like Pierre expected her to be the first time he caught a glimpse of her. She was in charge, everyone wanted her or wanted to be her and she knew it. He missed that feeling, the swell of self-esteem giving a boost in his system when people basically bowed down to his feet in his presence.

It felt really strange that it didn't happen anymore.

And to make things even more strange, the singer hadn't so much as seen the boy he had bumped into on his first day. Either he was always busy and in possibly a different grade, or he had just imagined the entire thing happening. At this point that entire day and two weeks had added up to some sort of a blur anyway, Pierre couldn't differentiate between his thoughts and what actually happened to him.

Well, you know, except for when he asked out girls and they rejected him.

In his mind they couldn't refuse, but in reality...they could care less.

Why Carly did that to him...Pierre didn't really grasp. Was it because he was the new kid? Did she need another target to harass and belittle? At least when the former singer was popular with people he wasn't a complete asshole to them, but that was the difference between high school cheerleading captain popular and rockstar popular. He still wasn't used to this shit. It was like he was thrown into an alternate universe of some sort. He felt like he had been pushed off of a plane without a parachute.

"Eight months. You just have eight months left of this, you can survive it..." he mumbled to the reflection of himself in the boy's bathroom of the high school cafeteria. He leaned down and splashed some cold water that was running from the faucet on his face to wake himself up a little bit.

That kind of helped, though he was still exhausted. Staying up late to cram for midterms next month was taking a toll on his sleep. At most he was getting three hours to try and keep up. Normally, he wouldn't have given a shit about failing or passing with flying colors, but his aunt threatened that she'd keep him with her until he graduated high school and that freaked him out enough for him to obtain the motivation to get good grades and get the hell out of there.

Problem was, he missed a good month and a half of things to learn...from every subject he was in. Not only that, but he was also in the process of learning new things each day in each class and it was all starting to pile up on him. He didn't want to admit it, but he needed help, and quickly. Who would help him though? No one in school could even look him in the face. It was hopeless. He was doomed.

"If I get wrinkles or bags under my eyes from all of this stress I swear to God I'm gonna kill someone..." he continued to talk to himself, but his head shot up when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind him.

Blinking water out of his eyes and off his eyelashes, he looked into the mirror in front of his face and made eye contact with the sandy haired blue eyed boy behind him.

Pierre knew who he was, his name was Sebastien.

The Chemistry class he was taking, he had taken that boy's seat next to Carly on his first day. The other had been absent due to either not feeling well...or he just decided to skip school that day, Pierre didn't really know nor care. What he found out quickly though, was that Sebastien was an item with the ever-so-famous Carly. The two of them made that quite clear by sticking their tongues down each other's throats and groping each other inappropriately in the hallways of the school in between periods and after school. The public display of affection was enough to make Pierre want to vomit and he was sure he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Grabbing for the paper towel rack on the side of the sink, Pierre just rolled his eyes and dried his face off.

"How can I help you?" He asked, voice dripping in sarcasm, clearly not wanting to do anything to help out the other. Pierre was well aware of the fact that this boy had been spreading shit about him like wildfire as well, so he wasn't in the mood to play nice.

The other was silent for a moment, as if he was thinking what he wanted to say over again and wondering if it was really worth it. "Carly wants to talk to you."

Pierre blinked. "Excuse me?" Flabbergasted, the former singer just scoffed and tossed the now semi-wet piece of paper towel in the trash, turning around to look at Sebastien.

Um, what? Did he even hear him correctly? They were making his life miserable and now she sent her whipped boyfriend into the guys bathroom to corner him into speaking with her? What the hell was this?

Sebastien repeated his words and Pierre just stood there in silence. Well, what was he supposed to do? Just bow down at her feet and obey her command? He was not like that, Pierre Bouvier did not kiss someone else's feet for anything. It wasn't worth it, especially since she'd probably end up spreading more shit about him.

"No thanks, not interested."

Moving to leave the bathroom, the blue eyed boy blocked the door, staring the other down for a moment and Pierre couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated...even if he was taller and had more muscle than this other dude.

"Would it interest you if I said it could change your reputation around here?"

For a moment, Pierre raised an eyebrow out of plain curiosity.

"And how exactly is that going to work? Thanks to your girlfriend, I'm a hopeless case for any of these brainwashed teenagers that walk the school grounds," he bit back, eyes narrowing to try and be more threatening. It wasn't working.

Sebastien just shrugged. "We can change that."

Pierre was silent for a moment. Would having this conversation really be worth it? He weighed the pros and cons in his head and after a few seconds of really thinking about it, he figured that nothing could possibly get worse with the reputation he had at that moment.

"Tell me how."

----

David was relieved.

For the first time since before the disaster of his Sophomore year, he hadn't been shoved into lockers or been the center of everyone's attention for fake gossip. He felt sympathy for the new guy, he really did, but with everyone focusing on him, his alcoholic abuse problem and his failed attempt at being a rockstar...no one was paying any mind to David Desrosiers. No one cared anymore.

Now he was able to live his life in fucking peace. Go about every day things the way it should've gone because the boy cared about no one but himself...and the goals he needed to accomplish this year to pass with a scholarship to the school he wanted to go to after he graduated. It wasn't that he was selfish, it was that he was focused. Plus, he didn't think anyone in the school was worth caring about...with the exception of Avril, of course.

High school didn't matter anyway. It was full of people who made futile attempts every day of their lives to be noticed and popular and loved by everyone in the school. In the words of David himself: excuse me while I go gag.

Didn't anyone know that popularity meant nothing but shit after they graduated? It was all about the grades, the academic abilities one possessed and the extra curricular activities they did to show their strengths and skill. Who cares if you threw the best parties, got the best alcohol? It meant nothing once you walked down that platform, diploma in your hand.

He was a whiz at everything. David had always been smart, quick witted and able to complete school work easier than a lot of students in his grade. When he was in kindergarden, he was automatically boosted up to first grade before anyone else was. Back then he didn't understand what exactly was happening, but he was smarter than everyone else: he skipped a grade.

David Desrosiers was the only Senior in College Beaubios that year who was going to graduate at the age of sixteen. He had a late birthday, August twenty-ninth to be exact, so he was pretty young. That helped with making him an easy target as well and he had heard the term "freak" one too many times. Avril decided to dub that as his nickname because the word was tossed around so much.

She was the only person who kept him sane. He was shocked that she even wanted to be around him at first, but she was the kind of girl who honestly didn't give a crap about anything and could care less about other people's opinions on her. So basically, she was David's perfect match. As a best friend, anyway.

He was gay. Flat out gay, actually. The kind of gay that you could see radiating from a mile away. It was just how he walked and spoke and presented himself. He didn't care. It was his life and no one else's opinion mattered to him...he hadn't given a shit about what other people thought for a good two years now.

Class had been canceled third period, due to the teacher getting ill last minute and finding no substitute to cover his class, so David and Avril made their way down to the cafeteria to blow off some time. Their usual table was taken, since this wasn't their lunch period, so they walked over to the abandoned table in the corner by the stairs.

"You know," Avril started to say, tossing some dark blonde hair over her shoulder as she set her bag down on the table. "I am so glad I didn't waste time last night doing that homework and instead did something so much more productive!"

Taking a seat closest to the stairs, David tucked some errand strands of hair behind his ear. "Which was...?"

"I took a nap!" She gloated, stretching out her arms above her head and gave a small yawn. By the looks of it, that nap didn't help, she still looked tired. David rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you are hopeless," he said, but a small smile tugged at his lips and Avril grinned.

"But I didn't get in trouble since our teacher decided to not show up!"

Opening his mouth to say something else, David was interrupted by a small girl with fiery red hair and a bounce in her step walking up to the table, flyers in her hand. He immediately recognized her, an annoying freshman from last year, now a Sophomore, and the question as to why he decided to come down to the cafeteria at that time flashed through his mind. It was too late to run. She saw them.

"Heya Av!" She chirped, looking over to give David a smile as well, though it was somewhat forced. The boy rolled his eyes. "Since I'm part of the after school committee this year I'm helping organize the Winter Formal!"

"Hayley...it hasn't even hit November yet..." Avril pointed out, brows knitting together in confusion.

"Eeeexactly!" Hayley was always so bright and cheerful that it sort of made David feel like punching a baby, as crude as that may have sounded. "So I'm making sure to have plenty of time addressing the event! We don't want what happened last year to happen again this year, correct? Nick was in charge and only a percentage of thirty out of the entire school arrived for it! Do you believe that? Thirty! Out of one-hundred!" She visibly shuddered, punctuating how she felt and David looked at Avril, grimacing, covering the side of his face by propping his elbow onto the table and leaning his cheek into his hand. Hayley didn't notice. Avril giggled.

Pulling two flyers from her hands, Hayley set them down on the center of the table, halting for a moment as she pulled away to take a second glance at the glossy papers. She beamed, clearly proud of what she had accomplished.

"I spent all weekend working on them! I think they look great, what about you guys?"

David mumbled a half-assed reply that could be taken as a complement if wanted and Avril just giggled some more and said "they're great Hayley."

"Well, make sure to pass the word! The winter formal is December fifth, which means we have a tiny bit over a month for everything to pan out accordingly!"

Giving a sarcastic thumbs up, eyebrows raised, that was David's reply. The sophomore finally walked away and he looked back at Avril dubiously.

"Why do you even humor her? It's like she takes an overdose of Prozac every morning when she wakes up--ow!" Avril gave David a slap across his shoulder, the boy pouting and rubbing at the targeted spot. "I'm just saying!"

"Well, not everyone can have the same I-Hate-The-World mentality as you, Sunshine," Avril replied with a smirk. David just sighed, reaching over to grab one of the two flyers still in the center of the table, untouched, folding the middle and the corners, making a typical paper airplane.

"Whatever," he bit back, chewing on the lipring in the center of his bottom lip during thought and sent the newly designed paper airplane into the air, landing a few feet away from the table. Moments later it was stepped on by a random student walking by in it's path. "I don't understand why we got those shitty flyers anyway, it's not like we're going to go."

Wordlessly, Avril just shrugged, leaning back in her chair. "Rebelling against the typical student standard and boycotting the Winter Formal! How unconventional and original of us, alert the press!" There was an obvious twinge of sarcasm in her words. "What's next, the prom?"

A look of disgust crossed David's facial features. "Like I would blow good money on getting dressed up in a tux to go to a shitty dance that most people look forward to each year because it's the night they actually get laid...where I'd be forced the entire time to listen to crappy music that I'd never bother to listen to any day of the week, even if I had a gun pointing at my head. I mean, would you even want to go?"

"Well, it's not like I have a date or will or anything..." Avril replied dejectedly, looking down and picking at a loose thread in her jeans.

David scoffed. "Why would you even want to bother anyway? Proms are for people to dress up and boast about their loving high school relationships that all have exactly a two percent chance of lasting past high school and to marriage...without divorce! It's just not worth it. It'll only make you end up feeling like shit," he pointed out, hazel eyes watching the girl as she sunk into her chair in defeat. "And you know it."

"Fine! Fine, alright, we won't go!" Avril could see the other getting all riled up just thinking about it and she sighed, sitting up again and leaning over to place her hand over her best friend's for somewhat of a reassurance. "It's not like it's anything important and life changing anyway."

"Good," David was relieved that the other decided to take what he said into consideration. "Besides, look at it this way: we're making a statement!"

"Like that's anything new," Avril snorted a laugh as she rolled her eyes, giving the other a small slap on the back of his hand.

----

Standing in front of the table Carly was sitting at along with her two other friends that were basically attached to her hip (Liz and Jeff), the former singer folded his arms across his chest almost impatiently. This felt extremely awkward.

Sebastien took a seat down next to her, leaning over to plant a kiss on her lips before directing his attention back to Pierre. Carly smiled sweetly and patted the seat next to her. Pierre shook his head.

"No, I'm good standing, thanks."

Pouting for a moment, Carly shrugged. "Your choice." Leaning back in the chair she was sitting in, she eyed the other curiously. "Alright, I'll cut down to the chase here since it's painfully obvious that you don't want to be standing here...but I can guarantee that after this conversation you'll be happy you were."

"I'm listening."

Pierre didn't really know what to expect, but he knew by the way the others were looking and smirking at each other that they were planning something. After whispering something into the blonde girl, Liz, who was sitting next to her's ear, Carly turned her attention back to Pierre.

"We want to you be a part of our group."

Unphased, Pierre lifted an eyebrow.

"You just spent the past two weeks here making my life miserable and now you want to be friends? No thanks, I'm not interested." He turned to walk away, but Carly wasn't going to give up easily.

"You want your reputation back?" Carly's words made Pierre halt and a smirk curled her lips. This was almost too easy. "I'm sure you miss being on top of the It List, the person everyone wants to be and hang with...God knows I would be suffering too if I went from being a rockstar to being thrown back into this shithole of a school."

Pierre's eyes squeezed shut, biting down on his bottom lip. She hit the nail on the head. Going to school and being put through all of the shit he had to endure every day was draining and humiliating after awhile. His ego was suffocating and he missed being popular more than anything in the world. Opening his eyes, he turned around to look at the table with all four of them again.

"We can make you or break you...we already broke you, but we can fix it. We can mend up your social status in a heartbeat and if people see you hanging around us, you won't have any more popularity problems."

One of the worst things Pierre had ever learned about himself was that he was a sucker for the spotlight, all the attention on him. It mattered what other people thought and he wanted to rank high on the social status at...wherever he was, whatever he was doing. He was addicted to the feeling.

"I feel like there's a catch."

"Mmm...no," Carly hummed, slightly in thought, tapping her index finger to her lips for a brief moment before continuing. "No catch, but to be in our group, you need to have an...initiation task, so to speak. Everyone in our group has done something to prove they are worthy of popular social status. Basically, if you benefit us with the completion of a task, we'll benefit you right back. Are you up for it? Up for doing anything we ask you to do?"

Pierre thought for a moment. "Just one task, right?" Carly and the others nodded their heads. That didn't seem too difficult to accomplish. "Alright, I'm in. What is it?"

A wicked smirk spread itself across Carly's lips and she leaned back in her chair to take a glimpse across the room. Bingo! He was there, just like she noticed about ten minutes ago.

"You see that boy over there? The one with the black hair at the last table in the corner?" She asked, pointing in the direction of David Desrosiers' table, where both he and Avril sat, joking and laughing about something random. Pierre leaned forward and squinted his eyes to really see, but they widened quickly when he caught a glimpse of the boy he had run into of the first day of school. Well damn, fucking finally! Pierre was wondering if he'd ever see him again, honestly.

Trying to act nonchalant though, Pierre shrugged his shoulders and stuck his hands into the pockets of the hoodie he was wearing. "Who is he?" He asked curiously.

"His name is David Desrosiers," Carly said, practically spitting out the other's name as if it were venom and Pierre quirked an eyebrow. "If anyone in the entire school could be labeled the biggest loser, he'd have that title." The way she spoke, Pierre could feel the pure hatred this girl had for the other boy and he had to stop and wonder why. Would he get an explanation?

"And...?" Pierre asked, patience wearing thin because he wanted to know what exactly was in store for his initiation test.

"We want you to sleep with him."

Pierre almost choked on his spit.

"E-excuse me?!"

"We want you...to sleep...with him," Sebastien repeated slowly as if Pierre was dumb, rolling his eyes. "Is that difficult to understand?"

"Shut up, Sebas!" Carly snipped and it worked, the blue eyed boy quickly ceased talking and pursed his lips together. Jeez. The boy was really fucking whipped, wasn't he? Attention back on Pierre, the sweet smile made a return on her lips. "Basically, we want you to nail him. Before prom."

The former singer blinked stupidly, as if asked what the square root of infinity was. He was lost.

"Uhh...just out of curiosity, how is me getting laid going to benefit you in any way?"

"Pierre, do you know anything about the social status of this school before you came into it?"

He shook his head. "Not a damn thing."

"Hmm," Carly made a face, pursing her lips together in thought. "Well, basically, David is the joke of the entire school. No one likes him, no one gives a flying fuck about him and...well...all of us want to give him a...lovely graduation gift during prom and we think you'd be perfect for the task."

"Which is...?" Some sort of direct answer would've been nice, but he bit back that statement in fear of fucking up this chance.

"Make him fall in love with you, gain his trust, lay him...and break up with him in front of the entire school on prom night."

Pierre's eyebrows shot up into his forehead. "Don't you think that's a little much?"

Carly shrugged. "Don't you think being the laughingstock of the school is a little much? Wouldn't you rather pass that title onto someone else who...I don't know, deserves it more than you? Listen Pierre, do you know how many people would absolutely adore you and think you're the shit if you accomplish this?"

Pierre didn't say anything to that, he didn't know how to counter it. She was right. Absolutely right. He didn't know anything about this boy, but if the entire school thought he was a huge loser, then why wasn't he still on the receiving end of the torment and humiliation? There were certain spots that people belonged on a social status scale and Pierre did not belong at the bottom of it. The losers and the geeks belonged there and he was so much better than them. If this would help him gain popularity once again and right the wrong, switch people back into their rightful place on the social status scale...then he was up for it. He'd do it.

"I'm in," he finally spoke up and Carly grinned, accomplished. "But how exactly is this going to work? With me breaking up with him I mean...letting the whole school know?"

"Well, when Sebas and I are crowned king and queen of the prom, which I know we will be, I'll get handed the mic to say a few words...and I'll hand it over to you. They always record the prom on tape, we'll hand them out after it's through to the rest of the underclassmen!" It was obvious that Carly had thought out this plan before, numerous times, and she giggled, the mastermind that she thought she was.

Looking back at the table where David was sitting with the other girl, Pierre felt determination grow within him.

"I'm up for it. When can I start?"

"Now."

----

"I have work from five till close tonight, but if it's cool with your mom, I could stop by afterwards?" David asked Avril hopefully, chewing on his bottom lip. "I mean, I could always come by tomorrow but I don't want to end up going home and doing absolutely nothing for a whole night when I can hang with you and watch a movie while binging on a shitload on snacks."

"Sounds like a plan," she replied with a smile. "I could use the company anyway, so my brother doesn't drive me off the wall and spend the night harrassing me cause I'd be alone." Making a face at the thought, Avril lifted up the burger she was eating and took a bite. Chewing thoroughly, she didn't even bother to finish swallowing before speaking up again. "Can you believe he's home already? I didn't think College was done with midterms till November..."

David shrugged, reaching over to steal a french fry from her tray and thought for a moment if he should really buy lunch now or wait until his actual lunch period. His stomach gave a little rumble and he sighed, pushing his chair back from the table and got to his feet.

"I'm gonna buy something since you're sitting here tormenting me with your food."

Avril gave him another thumbs up as she sunk her teeth into her burger for another bite.

Walking across the cafeteria, David dug into the tight pockets of his jeans for money, pulling out three two dollar coins, one of course falling out of his hand and to the floor. It rolled a little bit out of the way and he sighed, walking quickly after it, but a foot stopped the coin from moving any further out of reach. Eyes moving up the other's body, David came face to face with none other than the guy who he bumped into few weeks ago. Not even bothering to stop himself, he rolled his eyes when the other gave him a smirk and the younger of the two could already tell where this was heading before Pierre even spoke up.

"Hey, I think you dropped something."

"Thank you, captain obvious," David bit back, crossing his arms over his chest. He was not in the mood for this right now. Actually, he was never in the mood for shit like this. People in general just pissed him off. "Now can you kindly move your foot off of my money so I can go buy my lunch?"

Pierre did as he was told, leaning down to take the two dollar coin off the floor and hand it to David. The black haired boy went to snatch the money from the other, but Pierre pulled his hand away before the other could take the money.

"How about I buy you lunch?"

"With my money? Oh, how kind of you," David retorted sarcastically, looking at the other as if he were nuts. "Give me back my money. I'm a big boy, I can buy my own lunch."

Pierre made a face. "I never said you weren't, I was trying to be nice and I was going to give you back your money, by the way. I'm not that much of a jackass."

David snorted. "Could've fooled me."

Turning around to walk away and to the direction of the lunch line, Pierre took a few steps forward to grab the other's shoulder lightly to halt him. He wasn't going to let the other slip through his fingers so easily. This was the first time he had seen him in weeks and now he had to try and attempt to win him over and date him...what if this was his only shot for awhile? What if he didn't see him again for another two weeks? He couldn't take that chance again.

"What do you want with me?" Glaring at Pierre, he reached up and pushed the guy's hand off of his shoulder. God. Couldn't he just leave him alone?

Pierre gave a puzzled look. "I just wanted to make conversation?" It looked like David didn't believe any of that nor care so he just gave a shrug and stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets, almost dejectedly. "I...er...wanted to apologize?"

The look on David's face softened just a fraction of a bit and Pierre definitely noticed it, but didn't make that obvious and let it get to his head. The other still looked pissed. Running a hand almost nervously through his hair (almost because Pierre did not get nervous), he gave another half shrug and looked down at the floor before back up at David who was actually interested in what he had to say next.

"Apologize for...?" The raven haired boy tried to help out the other since he seemed to be struggling.

Okay, so apologizing meant that a person had to pretty much swallow down their pride and admit they were wrong and something like this required the hardest work ethic from Pierre Bouvier.

Pierre Bouvier was always right.

Pierre Bouvier never admitted that he was in the wrong, even if he knew he was.

His tongue feeling like lead, like it stuck to the roof of his mouth like honey when he tried to form words in his mouth, Pierre tried to speak but he couldn't get himself to do it. David sighed with clear cut annoyance and cocked an eyebrow at him, still waiting.

"I...um...well, you know that whole thing that happened a few weeks ago where I bumped into you? I'm...s-sorry about that." He felt weird after the words came out of his mouth, like he just admitted the worst thing in the world, but he also felt a little better in a strange way...he didn't know how to describe it.

Pursing his lips together for a moment, David just eyed him. "Apology accepted. You can run along now!"

Shooing him away with the movement of his hands, the younger boy turned around to walk to the lunch line. Pierre stood there for a moment, frozen on the spot, still shocked he actually apologized over something like that, but once he was able to come to his senses, he walked back over to where David went and slid behind him in the lunch line.

David didn't even have to look over his shoulder to know what happened and he bit down on his bottom lip to control himself, another roll of his eyes which he was so accustomed to doing when there were assholes involved with his life. So much for not attracting any attention anymore like he thought. This wasn't the same kind of abuse that he learned to tolerate the past few years of his life, so it left him a bit puzzled, but it was unwanted attention.

"So how about going to see a movie sometime?"

It was like the temperature inside of David's body rose, his insides boiling over with anger that he was holding inside. He was not always an angry person, but the last time he got sexually harassed in the lunch line at school he had sent the kid to the emergency room by kicking him in the balls. It was obvious that David did not put up with shit.

Turning around to look at the other incredulously, David spoke up. "Do you even know my name, jerkoff?"

Weighing the good and bad consequences in his head for already knowing David's name, Pierre decided that it looked less creepy and less suspicious if he didn't.

"No, but I promise you I'll know it by the time I'm ready to scream it." Adding a wink to give it effect, the former singer waited for the response, cue in David swooning for him.

Nope, not that easy.

"On second thought, I'm not that hungry," the other said out loud, choosing to ignore the last sexual comment given and stepping out of the lunch line. Pierre took a step too, but the younger of the two halted him with a hand to his chest. "I'm not interested," he said as clear cut as he thought he could be, but he could see the words weren't sinking into the other's mind the way they should've been. He sighed. "If I pay you, would you leave me alone?"

Pierre was offended. "Um...no?" He made a face, scrunching up his nose. "I'm asking you on a date..."

"Well clearly," David replied in the same sarcastic manner that Pierre was starting to get used to. He was honestly ready to strangle the boy because it was getting ridiculous. "And I thought it was just as clear that I am rejecting you, but I guess not since you can't seem to get the hint!"

"It's hard to keep away from someone who is as gorgeous as you, you're like a magnet," Pierre tried to flirt, but he was met with another David trademark of rolling his eyes.

"Oh, swoon, you've won me over Romeo!"

"So that's a yes for the date?"

"No."

Turning around to walk back to his table, Pierre walked right after him, this time deciding to not touch him and just end up getting side by side. He was running out of ideas, he was trying everything and yet this boy would not give him the attention he was looking for, the attention he needed to get for Carly. Was this even worth it? This David guy was a fucking bitch!

"Look," Pierre spoke up, the last attempt for him to get the other's attention. "I...I never do this, but cutting through all of the bullshit and the lame pick up lines and the flirting, I think you're very attractive and I would like to go on a date...if you'd take me up on the offer." He was trying to sound as sincere as he could, but what really sort of frightened the former singer was the fact that he actually didn't have to try. The words came out so freely.

David looked over at the table his things were at where Avril still was, the girl watching closely with a hint of amusement across her features. He knew he'd have to explain once he got back and he dreaded the thought. Would Pierre follow him to the table if he just continued the attempt to walk away? Avril would get a kick out of this and David didn't need to hear her comments about it.

A sigh escaped the younger boy's lips. "You know nothing about me, I'm not interesting in dating you or anyone for that matter...and to even further my point of rejection, I don't even know anything about you!"

Since when did having to know someone be the main rule of asking another person on a date and saying yes to it? Pierre had fucked people who didn't even know his last name, who cared about information!

That was the last thing that Pierre wanted to say to David though, so instead he held out his hand for a proper introduction and said; "hi, I'm Pierre Bouvier. What's your name?"

For a split second David was thrown off guard. Not because of the attempt at a proper introduction, but because of the guy's name.

Oh, holy shit. This was that new guy, the guy that everyone talked about...the one that was apparently in a rock band and was an alcoholic? If David remembered the rumors correctly...he never bothered to pay close attention because most of the things said about students that circulated the halls were false. But, wow, how could he have been so dumb? Clearly, this kid was new, David had known that since the day they ran into each other outside of the school, but he never made the connection and put two and two together. Mentally, he slapped himself in the forehead.

"Nice to meet you, Pierre Bouvier." David's tone was flat and he turned to walk away, not bothering to answer the question asked to him, sort of just wanting to get away before even more rumors started flying. He was finally out of all that shit and he knew if he was seen talking to Pierre Bouvier they would pop up again. Too many people had already witnessed them talking in the cafeteria and that was enough.

The whole point of getting him to say his name was moot, Pierre already knew what it was, but he didn't want to end up looking like some crazy stalker...so instead of getting any further with this bet, he only took a step backwards. Go figure.

"When will you tell me your name?" Pierre managed to call out before the other got too far away.

Hazel eyes glanced over his shoulder and looked at the former singer somewhat curiously because, hey, even if he didn't want anything to do with him...it was still nice to be sought after and wanted so bad. Terrible that he didn't reciprocate the feelings.

"Try again next time and maybe you'll get lucky!" He teased, turning back around and heading towards his lunch table, this time accompanied by no one.

Pierre sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"It was amusing, really. Everyone thinks he's pathetic."

2009-05-30T16:17:50Z

Title: I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good (2/?)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17 Eventually.
POV: 3rd.
Summary: Eighteen year old Pierre Bouvier's perfect world of potential stardom comes to a crashing halt when his ego over-inflates and is kicked out of the only thing he had going good in his life: his band Reset. They disband and the former singer is tossed back into high school where he comes to the realization that no one wants to befriend a washed up wannabe rock star...except, oddly, the most popular group of kids in College Beaubios. Under one condition. He needs to pass a test to make sure he's worthy: nail the biggest loser of the school before prom night; David Desrosiers.
Disclaimer: Not real, wish they were, blah blah blah, etc etc.
Dedication: This one goes out to my bffl kristen aka shakedown for keeping me sane. xoxo.
Author's Note: I haven't done chaptered fics in a long time, plus this is my first time ever writing one that is completely AU. So be nice!
Also: I just started using this journal for more than just communities, so if you want to, feel free to add me! I'd love more friends. :)
Previous Chapters: one

This don't mean that you own me. This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell, but things worked out just like you wanted too. If you see me out, you don't know me. Try to turn your head, try to give me some room to figure out just what I'm going to do. Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do. It's best if we all keep this quiet instead and I couldn't tell why everyone here was doing me like they do...but I'm sorry now and I don't know how to get it back to good.
- Matchbox 20

Just like Patrick said, as soon as they got to school grounds, they parted ways.

He didn't even say goodbye, not even so much as a "see ya!" It was just like someone had thrown a lasso around him and tugged him in the opposite direction. For a fleeting moment, Pierre felt lost and petrified, wondering if he should follow him because they did have first period together. Quickly after though, he remembered that he should probably check the location of his locker first since that's probably the direction his cousin was heading before class started and he had an inkling that it wasn't in the same area.

Plus, the last thing he wanted to do was look like he needed to follow his cousin. Of all people. Especially when people in this school didn't know him.

If the kids attending this school had any sort of brain matter within their heads, they probably thought the same things about his cousin that he did; geek, dork, nerd...loser. Pierre practically cringed at the thought of being labeled in those same categories just because he was walking into school with him.

Teenagers could be so judgmental and Pierre knew of all people that first impressions stuck to someone's idea of you like crazy glue.

Sighing, he clutched the strap of his messenger bag and walked over to the nearest entrance. Pierre was fighting the urge to laugh, not sure if it was out of amusement or confusion because people running away from him wasn't exactly something that happened to him every single day. In fact, no. It was a shock. In Pierre's head, it was a privilege to even get to stand close to him and be noticed...so when Patrick just went and left him like that, it felt a little odd. He had gotten used to people just begging to hang out with him all of the time, so walking around with no one by his side made him feel...empty, unwanted.

Pfft. He didn't take the latter of the two seriously.

Pierre Bouvier was not unwanted, he just hadn't met anyone just yet.

His cousin did not count.

"Well, whatever. Fuck him," Pierre murmured exasperatedly to himself as he pulled the door open with more force than he intended from the slightly bottled up anger.

Second shock of the day: someone was on the opposite side of the door as he did this.

Obviously this came as a surprise to the other boy as well, so when he was practically flung forward with enough force to knock Pierre down onto the cement, he let out a squeak in terror and a loud "oof!" when their bodies hit the ground.

Well...so much for Pierre feeling no attention!

By the size of the kid who literally ran into him, the former singer had to wonder how the hell he was knocked down with such force. He was pretty sure that he could wrap his arms around this boy twice and still have room between them, that's how thin he was. To make things even more odd, the kid looked like he couldn't even hurt a fly...or would want to, for that matter.

Pierre ended up staring a little too long than was probably normal. He couldn't help it. Once he was able to take a good look at the boy who just knocked him down, he didn't want to look away. That sounded a bit cliché, but he didn't think it was. The other was gorgeous.

For a split moment, Pierre took the chance to thank God or whoever the hell it was that was watching over him to have such an attractive person practically fall right into his lap.

It's not like he wasn't used to that kind of attention from attractive people, but it was just a nice thing to happen to him. Very, very nice.

Confused, honey golden eyes looked back at Pierre when the other looked down, long ink black hair splayed in his face and semi-blocking the view. His skin was ridiculously pale, such a clash to the former singer's tanned body, but it weirdly went well with the jet black hair and dark clothes the other was wearing. A ring was snugged well in the center of his bottom lip and another in his nose which made the term "punk" stand out for a moment...though the boy looked anything but tough.

Pierre had to admit that the view was nice. If most of the people at this school looked like this boy, there would definitely be absolutely no problem for him to show up every day.

So, it wasn't like Pierre minded the other on top of him, and it's not like the other was squishing his body with the non-weight that he possessed...it was just the fact that he landed on his back on the tough concrete and that really fucking hurt.

Once the initial shock wore off, the small boy's eyes widened in realization of what just happened as he scrambled off of Pierre's body and got to his feet. The first thing Pierre expected was for the other to help him up, so when he was able to sit up again, he reached his hand out for a little assistance back onto his feet.

"Watch where the fuck you're going!"

Well, he did not expect that.

Retracting his hand, Pierre eyed the other boy as he busied dusting himself off and gave a small disbelieving noise in this throat. Dude, this kid just runs into him and knocks him over and doesn't want to help him up? Pierre might have been full of himself, but if he ever knocked someone down by accident, he'd help them back onto their feet with no problem. Especially if they were as attractive as he was.

"I actually think that you're the one who ran into me," Pierre felt the need to point out, using his own hands to push himself off of the ground and back up to his feet. He adjusted the messenger bag over his shoulder and waited for the other to give him an apology.

Instead, he was met with the other looking back at him, those same bright hazel eyes locked on him as an eyebrow raised in such a way that it made the singer's frustration melt away a little. Just a fraction of a bit. It was cute, okay?

"It's cool," Pierre added on as the other continued to stare at him like he had a few screws loose. "I know it must be pretty hard to talk to someone like me, especially with the way we met...I normally don't do things like that till after the third date...second, if you're lucky." He punctuated that sentence with a wink and the other stared back at him incredulously.

"Who are you?" The other boy asked in shock, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Some nerve of the guy, not knowing where the hell he was going and then acting like he was God Almighty. He hadn't even seen him before in his life, was he new to College Beaubios or something?

The question caught Pierre off guard. "What?" He could help asking the question, eyes wide in surprise because, wow, okay, usually people knew who the hell he was and now this...this random high school kid didn't know who he was?! "I'm Pierre Bouvier," he answered with a scoff, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

David just answered with a roll of his eyes and "okay Pierre Bouvier, you're making me late to first period so i'm out of here. I hope your ego hasn't made your head so big that you can't walk through the door."

And with that, the boy left, walking away, making a cut across the field to another entrance into the building.

He left Pierre dumbfounded, the former singer just standing there mouth agape as he thought to himself. Okay, this was not how he was planning his first day to go. The cute boy knocking into him was definitely a good start but, hello! Clearly he was not worth it if he didn't know who he was and it also obviously meant he didn't even listen to good music.

Who did he think he was with that attitude anyway? Some kid who ruled this school? Pierre may not have known anything about College Beaubios...or high school in general, but the kid was just plain nasty.

Okay, so maybe it was both of their faults for not paying attention to each other when the door was opened, but it was an accident. Still! An apology would've been nice, Pierre was sure his back was going to hurt him for the first few periods and probably past lunch. And what the hell, it was still fucking bothering him to no end that he didn't even know who he was! What kind of idiot didn't know who he was?!

Did fronting Reset for three years of his life get him nowhere? This was ridiculous, that kid should've been on his knees and kissing his feet. Or perhaps on his knees doing something else with that mouth...

Why did this bother him so much? usually Pierre was the type of guy to shrug off blows to his ego...though, that rarely happened. Did it actually ever happen? Or did he just think he was good at letting people belittle him? His head was starting to hurt from thinking too much and he was slightly pissed that it was this random emo kid who spoke to him like that.

But if he was pissed off at the boy, then why was he completely bummed out that the conversation didn't last longer?

"Hey!" Pierre called out, turning around to watch the other's body become smaller with distance. He didn't turn around to look back or anything and Pierre just sighed. "You didn't even tell me your name..." he muttered to himself, knowing it was pointless to even ask for it since he was too far away now and obviously didn't care.

Yeah, definitely not a good way to start off his first day of school.

----

"Please explain to me the growing number of shitheads we're gaining in this school's population."

The boy with the long black hair slammed his book bag down onto the lunch table with such force that it wobbled, the only other person occupying it, a skinny girl with long dirty blonde hair and a thick ring of black eyeliner coating her eyes, looking up and glaring at him.

"Watch it, David! I gotta finish this report on statistics for second period math and the last thing I need one of your bitchy moments ruining the graph I've been working, slaving on the entire night," she over-exaggerated (but with good reason) and looked back down at the graph paper on the table in front of her, checking to see if the interruption and shake of the table had ruined any of her lining.

David just grumbled in return, knowing it was pointless to argue with his best friend when it came to homework, especially considering she was retaking this math class and had to pass with flying colors to be able to graduate this year. He pulled the chair he normally sat in out from under the table and plopped down.

For a moment he took in his surroundings.

A decent amount of the tables were empty, even though they were still selling breakfast meals to kids till it hit eight-thirty and it had only just gotten to eight o'clock on the dot. The kids that were in there though, David saw them every day, same time and same place. Most of them were finishing up homework like the other member of his table was in the process of doing, or some were asleep, hoodies over their heads and probably drooling all over the notebooks there were face-planted in on top of their table.

Basically it was the same shit, different day.

The cafeteria was basically the hang out place that students went to when they didn't have class or didn't bother going to class when they didn't have a car that was able to get them the hell off of the property. So many students were in there every period of the day that the security just couldn't keep up with who was supposed to be in what class at what time. Perfect place to hide away and chill with friends if you needed a place to go.

Okay, so maybe David had lied to that...weird new kid about having first period class. But damn, he wanted out of that awkward conversation, and fast.

David started school during his second period, the first was a free, which under normal circumstances would be pretty fucking cool because he could sleep in and such...if his best friend was not an early bird and wanted to meet up to chat during first period in the cafeteria every single morning.

The blonde practically beamed as she sat back and looked down at the graph which she obviously just completed.

"If I didn't care about crumpling up the paper, I would so give it a big hug right about now!"

The boy rolled his eyes at his best friend and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You are so weird, Avril."

"Not weird, gifted!" She retorted, reaching down to the floor to pick up her back pack which was kept safe beneath her chair and dropped it onto the table. Note: With much less force than David did just seconds prior. Unzipping the back quickly, she pulled out a bulky pink notebook, sloppy and complete with papers sticking out from every end that was possible.

David eyed her as she opened up the mess, in search of the section that was obviously for math...though he wondered how she could possibly find it in that pigsty.

"Careful, or your notebook might eat that homework for lunch."

"Your humor is not amusing to me right now, ta gueule," Avril snipped at him and David just pursed his lips together, smirking, clearly amused by his own joke. "So what were you telling me before about the obvious population of shitheads in this school?"

David snorted a laugh at looked at her. "You just told me to shut up and now you want me to talk?"

"You know I was just saying it out of love! Now spill."

All David could do was shrug. Could he even explain what had happened to him just moments ago? It was just so strange. He was practically feeling secondhand embarrassment for the guy from what he said to him.

"I guess we have a new kid here," David started to speak and Avril's eyebrows lifted in interest. "I don't know, but he bumped into me, literally--" he didn't want to explain in detail what had happened, that was something to get into later when the thought of it didn't make his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "--and then it got...weird..."

"Weird as in...?" Avril asked nudging him as an urge to continue and David gave another shrug.

"I don't know. He acts as if he's some sort of celebrity, like I should've worshiped the ground he walked on. I've never seen him before in my life. It was really fucking strange."

Avril made a face, upper lip curling in slight distaste for the guy she hadn't even seen yet. "Maybe he's a transfer?" She offered her thoughts, sitting back in her chair and went to start shoving her notebook back into her bag. "Maybe he's friends with Sebastien, Jeff, Liz and Carly?" David cringed when those names were mentioned, especially the last one and Avril took note of that, biting her bottom lip for being stupid and mentioning them and sighed. "I'm just saying, because maybe that's why he's walking around acting all high and mighty, thinking he "rules the school", you know?"

"Maybe," David said but didn't think twice about it. "It just doesn't seem logical, though."

"How so?"

"He...uh...he hit on me," David divulged, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. It had been a long time since someone had hit on him honestly, which is why he didn't even see that coming from a mile away.

Avril was silent and blinked a few times before responding. "Oh. So that kind of voids that theory out, then because--"

"Lets not talk about this anymore, okay?" David cut her off, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and sinking further down in his seat, suddenly having the strong urge of wanting to turn invisible. Avril immediately ceased talking and shot him a look of sympathy.

"Désolé," she apologized quickly, fast to change the subject. "Hey, wanna get something to eat? I think they're making the egg and cheese sandwiches today and..." she glanced up at the clock. "We've got about fifteen minutes before they stop and start getting ready for lunch."

Forcing some sort of a smile, David nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

----

Finding out where his locker was located turned out to be a lot more simple than Pierre expected. It was a pretty far distance away from the part of the school where his first period class was, but it wasn't like that was a thousand meters away. It was walkable.

His locker was in between two that both belonged to girls. They were both semi-attractive but neither noticed Pierre so much existed while they arrived to get their books during the process of fixing up his locker. Even when he flashed his best smile when their eyes met.

This left Pierre dazed and confused, eyebrows knitting so tightly together in frustration that his head was beginning to hurt. Okay, so he wasn't Mr. High School. He had only gone during half of his freshman year so he didn't know what the hell to expect or do, but it wasn't like meeting people was any different than the real world. Usually he had them wrapped around his finger by just giving a glance.

Now nothing was working.

He felt like he had just stepped into The Twilight Zone and it freaked him the fuck out. How was this possible? Okay, so those two girls didn't matter. They weren't worth his time and they were definitely not attractive. What was he thinking?! Maybe he had been desperate for some other form of attention that he'd try to snag anyone...

...or maybe those girls really were attractive and now he was just being bitter.

Deciding to forget about his locker and attempt to find where exactly his first period class was, Pierre slammed the door closed and walked down the hall, following the decrease in the door numbers.

Soon he found his way to the opposite side of the building; where the science wing was. Pierre guessed that everything was sectioned off in different spots and it would probably be hell to cut across the school to other periods during the five minute intervals between classes. He hoped that the next four classes he had that day wouldn't be as bad distance-wise.

He didn't really know what to think of his schedule and the fact that it seemed so hard to grasp made him frustrated. This was not at all what he remembered back in his freshman year. That year he had one schedule with eight straight classes, the same, boring routine every day...but this time he had ten classes which were split for five a day and swapped every other day. As if it wouldn't be annoying enough to remember to do homework for every class and remember where exactly each one was, he also had to remember what day it was so he didn't get the classes mixed up.

What a pain in the ass.

Walking into room 205, Pierre took a good look at his surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was a Chemistry class so he saw the lab tables set up, beakers and test tubes on each desk ready and set to go for the day's lesson. There were a few people in the class already, but not that much and they all looked up from what they were doing to look at him.

Suddenly Pierre felt like he was the specimen ready to be hunted down for an experiment for the class with the way the other kids were looking at him. No, he was not a random lost kid that walked into the wrong classroom, he was in the right place. They could stop looking at him like he was out of place any day now, really. Looking up at where the clock was, Pierre read the time. Eight o'clock.

The timing was sort of uncanny, as soon as Pierre saw the time, the bell rang and he jumped slightly in shock. It wasn't like the sound was loud, it just surprised him.

People started to fill up the room like a herd of cattle being released. It was funny how seconds ago the room was practically empty and now most of the lab tables were filled with students catching their breaths from running into the room. Pierre automatically assumed the teacher was strict with lateness and tardiness because, really, who honestly gave a fuck if you were a few minutes late? Then again he seriously hadn't sat inside of a classroom in years so maybe he just didn't know any better.

Standing near the door and feeling like a dumbass, Pierre didn't know what to do. Should he just sit down someplace randomly? Wait for the teacher to arrive? At least every person had eyed him standing at the door by now and the former singer could see Patrick on the opposite side of the room, practically glaring at him when their eyes met. Yeah, no help there. That was easily a sign for Pierre to not make a reference to him at all. Like he needed any help anyway.

Whatever, it didn't matter. What Pierre didn't like however, was the fact that he was starting to completely losing his cool and this was a high school. First period had started and the only person he had spoken at least a word to was the lanky kid who had run into him before he even entered the building, and that wasn't even a willing talk!

Feeling a hand place on his shoulder, Pierre turned around to see a older women standing next to him who had just walked through the door. She was slightly overweight but not by much, blonde hair with a tiny hint of grey and a smile pulling at her lips which made slight creases and wrinkles at the side of her eyes. Pierre could guess that she must've been not a day younger than fifty.

"You must be Pierre," she said and he forced a smile back.

"Unfortunately," he said, faking enthusiasm and the teacher just gave him a small laugh and a slight nudge.

"I'm Mrs. Cole. Go choose an empty seat to sit at while I give a few announcements."

With no choice, Pierre walked over to the nearest empty seat which was a few rows down and luckily next to what he thought was a mind-blowingly attractive girl. She didn't even seem to care that he chose sitting next to her, though. She was too busy jotting down something in a small notebook that was sitting on her lap.

Her brown, wavy hair that looked like she spent hours fixing up to curl perfectly blocked some of her face, but Pierre had noticed her when she walked into the room. She was the kind of girl that would catch any guy's eye, like she was the master at holding a room's attention by just walking into it. She had that kind of aura and Pierre knew because he had that too...or at least used to. Didn't seem to be working out so much at the moment.

Thinking of saying something to break the ice, he was cut off before he could come up with anything.

"Don't get too comfortable, the seat you're in is normally taken," the girl spoke up, her voice as smooth as honey when she talked, eyes still down on the notebook in her lap. "So I suggest you find a better place to sit for the next time we have class."

Pierre blinked but didn't really let this phase him, dropping the bag he still had hung over his shoulder onto the floor next to the stool he was sitting in.

"Well then, I guess your pretty self will be lucky enough to sit in my presence for at least one day," Pierre replied and he got the reaction he was hoping for, the girl looking up from her notebook to make eye contact. She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, as if trying to place him, recognizing him from somewhere and Pierre's ego started to grow again because, yeah, he used to get that a lot. The girl obviously knew who he was.

Before he could say anything else though, the teacher spoke up which ceased all of the talking in the room, all attention now on her.

"Alright class! As you know, the big assignment for midterms is coming up soon, so we're going to spend most of the class today discussing that and what to expect and need to prepare for it--" a few groans were emitted at different areas of the classroom, but Mrs. Cole continued on. "--but we have a new addition to the class I'd like to address first. Pierre, would you come up to the front of the room and introduce yourself?"

Not really expecting to actually make an introduction, Pierre was surprised, but happy that he actually had time to focus on something he was excellent giving attention to: himself. "Gladly!" Hopping off of the stool he was on, Pierre quickly walked up to the front of the room, standing next to the teacher's desk and eyeing his audience.

Usually he was insanely good at keeping people's attention, it just came with performing onstage for years, so he knew he'd have no problem with this.

"Hey, I'm Pierre Bouvier..." He expected some eyes to light up at the sound of his full name, but none really did. If this were some sort of a movie, Pierre was pretty sure he'd hear crickets in the background by now. There was a pause after those first words, really expecting to hear some gasps or anything remotely sounding like a shock...but he got nothing. His ego took a plummet back down. "I used to be home schooled until my band started to really take off, then I quit to focus on the band...but uh...I'm obviously back again except at another school because I'm staying with..." he looked in Patrick's direction who sort of sinked down into the chair he was sitting in and Pierre rolled his eyes. Yeah right. Like he'd give his cousin the honor of letting people find out that they were related. "...a few cousins of mine."

Someone could cut the awkward silence in the room with a knife and Pierre took that as his cue to go and sit back down, but some kid in the back of the room spoke up.

"If your band was starting to get big, why did you stop with it and come back to school?"

Pierre blinked. Well, shit. He didn't think he'd be answering any questions...especially not ones that involved the downfall into the lowest moment of his life.

"Uh...well, it's sort of a long story, so I don't want to bore you with it--"

"What was your band's name?" A girl that was sitting at the lab table in front of Patrick's interrupted him.

Pierre swallowed. Would they know about all the shit that happened if he said the name of his band? None of them even knew who he was to begin with though, so how would they know about his drinking and everything that went down?

"Reset."

"So that's where I recognized you from."

Pierre's head turned to look back at the girl he decided to sit next to, the one who spoke up. The notebook that had been on her lap was now closed and placed at the corner of the lab table, green eyes sparkling with a look that made him something he wasn't used to; nervous. He knew that she must've known with the look she had given him prior to the terrible introduction he was somewhat forced to give, but at that moment, Pierre felt a sliver of fear run up his spine from the way she was eyeing him. For once that entire day, the former singer wished that no one had heard of his band.

"So you guys were famous and stuff? How come I've never heard of you before?" Another person popped into the conversation and Pierre opened his mouth to reply, but he wasn't quick enough.

"Oh no, they weren't what you'd call famous," the girl with the piercing green eyes spoke up again, her voice tinted with sarcastic amusement. "Remember that recent Green Day tour over the summer? Well, they had an opening band, but when they got to the stop here in Montreal, they were just on their own."

Pierre felt his blood run cold, he knew where this chick was obviously going with the story.

"Rumor has it, the lead singer totally destroyed the band because of alcoholism..." still eyeing the former singer, a smirk curled the corners of her lips upwards and she raised an eyebrow in question. "Weren't you the lead singer of your band Reset, Pierre Bouvier?"

"Carly, that will be enough!"

Unfortunately, the teacher spoke up and told the girl to stop talking way too late. Pierre saw as a bunch of the teens in the class whispered to one another, a few glancing in his direction and giving small laughs. He felt nauseous, the color draining from his face. His secret was out. Not only was he the new kid in school, oh no. Now he was the new kid who blew his shot at stardom because he was an alcoholic.

Who did this chick Carly think she was anyway? Miss high and mighty?! She just sat there with a smirk planted on her lips, now looking back down and writing in the small notebook again as if saying to herself "mission accomplished!" What exactly was accomplished? Ruining Pierre's potential stardom in the school at least? Now he knew because of her that any hope of having anyone wrapped around his finger was hopeless.

If she didn't say anything, Pierre was sure no one would've really figured anything out about his past. At least for a few weeks, maybe months. No one really seemed to grasp who he was, even after he said the name of his band. All in all, that really fucking sucked as well, but now that wasn't what Pierre hated the most.

The teacher threw Pierre a sympathetic look and gestured back to where his seat was, telling him to sit back down. All he could do was sigh and oblige, self pity starting to sink in deep, past his skin. He never thought he'd feel this way in his life, but right now he hated himself.

When Mrs. Cole went back to talking again, starting on the day's lesson, Pierre begrudgingly lifted up his bag to place on the table and open up to retrieve his notebook.

"Why'd you go and fucking say all of that shit for?!" He hissed at the girl named Carly, voice low so the teacher couldn't hear him.

The girl didn't even bother look up from her notebook, give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction and he could still hear the smirk on her lips as she spoke.

"Welcome to College Beaubois."

----

One thing Pierre Bouvier found out fast about high school was that word got out quicker than lightning striking during a thunderstorm.

He thought rumors and paparazzi were bad? At least that took time for shit to hit the fan, but for the rest of the day, no matter where the former singer went, who he tried to talk to, he just got a) weird looks or b) laughed at.

He didn't know which one was worse.

----

Arriving home from school, Pierre immediately started walking up the stairs to his bedroom after he slammed the door shut. He didn't bother waiting for Patrick to help walk him back home...but it wasn't like he needed his help anyway. He remembered the trip from the direction they took that morning.

"Hey superstar, how was your first day of school?"

Aunt Laura walked out of the kitchen to greet her nephew after she heard him walk in, watching as he walked up the stairs quickly. Frowning, she moved over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at the other, grasping the railing with one hand and placing the other on her hip.

"So you're just going to blow me off like that and not tell me any exciting news about today?"

Halting his steps, Pierre spun around on his feet to look down at his aunt incredulously.

"Exciting?" He fought back a bitter laugh. "Are you fucking joking me? I went from being a rockstar to being forced back into school where shit spreads around about me like the fucking plague! I made absolutely no friends today, sat in the bathroom of the cafeteria for lunch because there was no fucking place for me to sit...I literally ran into some fucking asshole before school started so hard that I fell backwards and my back is fucking killing me now!"

The front door opened again and Patrick entered into the house, raising an eyebrow as he walked into the conversation that Pierre was practically screaming.

"Oh, and to top it all off, midterms are in two and a half fucking weeks and I need to take them. Without knowing anything," Pierre was on his last nerve, ready to throw something at his aunt who just stared at him with wide eyes.

"So whoever's bright idea it was to shove me back into school during the middle of the second month into it can kiss my ass. Thanks a lot, Aunt Laura. Thanks a whole fucking lot."

And with that, Pierre turned back around and stomped up the rest of the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, slamming the door to punctuate how pissed off he really was. Sighing, Laura closed her eyes and reached up to rub at her temples.

"Please tell me he's overreacting."

"Oh no," Patrick beamed as he kicked off his shoes to leave at the door. "No, it was so much worse than what he just said. It was amusing, really. Everyone thinks he's pathetic."

"Patrick!"

"What?! Something like that is good for his fucking ego. It needs to be deflated. He made himself look like such an ass so many times today and he didn't even realize it."

Sighing, not even knowing how to counter that statement, Laura shook her head. "Just go do your homework."

With a shrug, Patrick did as he was told, exiting to head to the living room. Laura still stood there though, looking at the top of the stairs and debated if she should go up to see Pierre...or just leave him alone for the rest of the night.

The latter of the two won.

Pierre wasn't stupid, he knew a setup when he saw one.

2009-05-27T05:13:51Z

Title: I Don't Know How To Get It Back To Good (1/?)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: NC-17 Eventually.
POV: 3rd.
Summary: Eighteen year old Pierre Bouvier's perfect world of potential stardom comes to a crashing halt when his ego over-inflates and is kicked out of the only thing he had going good in his life: his band Reset. They disband and the former singer is tossed back into high school where he comes to the realization that no one wants to befriend a washed up wannabe rock star...except, oddly, the most popular group of kids in College Beaubios. Under one condition. He needs to pass a test to make sure he's worthy: nail the biggest loser of the school before prom night; David Desrosiers.
Disclaimer: Not real, wish they were, blah blah blah, etc etc.
Dedication: This one goes out to my bffl kristen aka shakedown for keeping me sane. xoxo.
Author's Note: I haven't done chaptered fics in a long time, plus this is my first time ever writing one that is completely AU. So be nice!
Also: I just started using this journal for more than just communities, so if you want to, feel free to add me! I'd love more friends. :)

This don't mean that you own me. This ain't no good, in fact it's phony as hell, but things worked out just like you wanted too. If you see me out, you don't know me. Try to turn your head, try to give me some room to figure out just what I'm going to do. Cause everyone here, hates everyone here for doing just like they do. It's best if we all keep this quiet instead and I couldn't tell why everyone here was doing me like they do...but I'm sorry now and I don't know how to get it back to good.
- Matchbox 20

It started two months prior to that exact day.

Reset was on a huge tour across their home country of Canada, something they had been aiming to accomplish for what felt like the longest time in the world. They were opening for Green Day, one of the biggest pop-punk bands in the music industry today and they were practically teetering on the bridge of making it to serious radio airplay with their single Why. This was it. This was their final break through.

And Pierre Bouvier just went and threw it all away.

On August twenty second, nineteen ninety seven, the tour hit their stop in London, Ontario. The city was all too well known for the bars it possessed, practically one on every street corner...how could the singer not fall into temptation? He may have been eighteen, which fell just below the drinking age cut in some provences, one of them being Ontario, but he had enough charm, knew exactly what to say to let him slide into the bars and clubs past security easily. It was a gift, really.

Honestly, it wasn't his fault. He was just being a normal teenager. One who got caught up with drinking and partying the night away with both girls and guys who caught his eye and who couldn't keep away from him because, yes, he was pretty good looking and yeah, he knew it. It was why he fronted the band like he did. He was just lucky he had the vocal ability to really carry the position far, to where they were now.

Reset was semi-famous. Whenever he mentioned the band to certain people, they would give their respective ooh's and ahh's and invest more concentration in him, into trying to start a conversation that would lead to the possibility to getting laid or perhaps meeting another band member for the same intention. Pierre was definitely okay with that. Who wouldn't want a bunch of attractive girls and guys practically throwing themselves into your lap every day of the week? He could totally get used to it.

Too bad the singer took too many steps ahead of himself way too quickly.

The show that they were supposed to do that night in London at the John Labatt Centre did not happen. At least for Reset, anyway. Green Day went on without an opening act, due to what they said were "technical difficulties", but really...there was a much bigger problem at stake.

Pierre did not show up.

It was the first time that the singer ever missed a show, which caused the rest of the members to panic, literally leaving the venue to search at every hospital in the vicinity of the theatre and hotel. The first thing that they thought was that the singer had gotten hurt or ill...or something so much worse.

They found the eighteen year old hungover the next morning in his hotel room, of all places, a girl which he couldn't remember the name of for the life of him asleep on the opposite side of the bed.

That was only the beginning.

It wasn't like Pierre was let off the hook so easily, either. The rest of the band members continuously got on his case for fucking up that night's show, up till the point where it drove the singer absolutely insane. Okay. Yeah. Whatever. He didn't need to hear the same shit over and over again, he got it. He fucked up. He screwed Reset with the fans they already had and potential fans they could've gained in London, but he was convinced that wouldn't be a problem for the future. They as a band were just too good to be given up on for missing one performance. Especially since the band decided to keep the reason why they couldn't perform away from the media and fans. No one needed to know the reason Pierre skipped out on the show was because he was busy getting laid.

The next two shows in Toronto went well, it seemed as though the singer had learned his lesson and was back on the right track, performing to his best each night in front of the large crowds...but things shifted into the wrong direction again for the show in Ottawa a few days later.

Pierre arrived at the venue piss drunk, so inebriated that it was a shock that he could actually remember his name. The rest of the band didn't know what to do, they did the only thing they could possibly do without bowing out of another performance -- played with the lead singer/bassist completely plastered.

It was a miracle they survived the show, but it had to be the worst one they'd ever played together in their entire experience together, since their formation. And that was saying a lot, especially since at the beginning they sucked pretty hard.

Rumors started flying around about Pierre, how he was an alcoholic and not serious about being a part of Reset any more and they all tried to fight off the rumors, calling them bullshit and over-exaggerated analysis' of the singer in interviews. In other words, they were trying to cover and save their asses.

Pierre was banned from drinking alcohol by the band's manager and had to have an eye kept on him at all times when the band wasn't doing a show or handling promo work and signings. He felt like a little fucking kid who just got fucking grounded and it only pissed him off and fueled him wanting to rebel so much more.

Did it matter to the band's reputation that he drank and partied and enjoyed himself? Pierre didn't think so, they were a fucking punk band from Montreal (where it was legal to drink at his age) who were all in their late teens. Who gave a flying shit if the fronting man liked to drink and have a good time? He was only human! He was sure that he wasn't the only one at his age who acted this way and he didn't see the problem.

And so, just like any other kid who is forced to do something that he doesn't want to do, placed in a situation where he felt trapped; Pierre revolted.

He snuck out at night when they were in between shows and paid off people to let him go that caught him. It was amazing how much money could change people's intentions. At first he got away with it, but soon cameras picked up photos of him that the media got ahold of...and that was it.

It was done.

Everything that the band tried to hide, did their best to cover up was officially ruined.

In the blink of an eye, Pierre was kicked out of the band. It wasn't like he didn't put up a fight over it, throwing a temper tantrum like he was five years old.

"What the fuck you guys?" He asked, bewildered, fists clenched in rage and he was ready to punch something, his preference would've been the nearest person around him. "This is such bullshit! You'll be nothing without me, I'm what makes the band...I'm singing the fucking lead in the CD we made...you can't just throw away the singer and replace him with someone else without screwing up the band and their following!"

"That was not our intention," the drummer spoke back, voice oddly calm and under control and Pierre was outraged that he could take something like this with such a grain of salt. The now former singer snorted a laugh that had anything but humor in it. This couldn't be happening. They were clearly out of their fucking minds.

"Then what exactly was your intention?" Pierre snapped back. "To go on some sort of hiatus until I quote unquote "cleaned up my ways"? I'm not going to change the kind of person I am just to make other people happy...I am who I am and everyone who doesn't like it can just go fuck off!"

"Which is exactly why we're breaking up the band completely."

Those simple words made Pierre's blood run cold, stiffening in shock as he stood there in front of the rest of his band members, fear dawning on his features as it all started to sink in. "Oh God..." he spoke, as if the band was a person that he found out just died, voice a whimper and his eyes widened in shock, looking at the others. "You're not serious..."

All the looks he received back though, Pierre knew that they were as serious as a heart attack, they didn't need to say another word.

Sadness apparent in his eyes, the guitarist watched the eighteen year old start to crack and crumble, look like he was about to hit the start of a breakdown and it hurt his heart. It was true, Pierre did drive the band to the point where breaking up was the only option, but he still cared so much about the other.

"Pierre..." he said softly, taking a few steps forward to place his hand on the other's shoulder for some sort of comfort. "You are not the same person we met and hung out with so many years ago. You've changed so much that you've turned into a person that...we don't even recognize anymore. We can't have a band with someone like that." He squeezed his shoulder gently, emphasizing how much he really felt like shit for doing this to one of his best friends, the now old lead singer of his band. "Please try to understand that..."

For a moment, Pierre looked back at the other, speechless. He didn't know what to do. All of the information was still seeping into his mind, as if in slow motion and he didn't know how to react. The band was his life, he couldn't see himself doing anything else in the world except front this band that was now history.

And everything they had built up together...all of the hard work and the touring and promo, how close they were to being able to front their own tour across Canada...it was torn down so quickly. How could the rest of them just throw it all away so easily?!

Anger boiled up in Pierre's veins, reaching up to push away the guitarist of his old band's hand off of his shoulder and gave him a shove backwards, letting the other almost trip over his feet and tumble back.

"You all just made the biggest mistake of your lives and when you realize that you need me, like you always have, don't come crying back to me! Fuck you all, I'm done with you and everything that you all so carelessly and foolishly decided to throw away."

That was the last thing Pierre said to his late band members before he left the room, slamming the door with feeling.

----

The sound of a loud buzz from the alarm clock placed strategically next to his head on the night table next to the bed he was sleeping on awoke Pierre from the pleasant dream he was having, groaning in disgust as he reached over blindly to try and slam on the snooze button. He struggled for a few minutes, hitting everything he could possibly feel on the clock to get it to just stop, but it was hopeless. He ended up knocking it to the floor instead, half by accident and the other part out of frustration.

"Fuck..." he moaned sleepily, totally not ready to get up at all, especially not to pick the damn annoying alarm clock up off the floor. The buzzing just got louder though, pushing every bit of the boy's nerves. Pierre turned his body over, grabbing a pillow in the process to muffle the sound by putting it over his head in an attempt to cover his ears. That never really worked, but maybe by chance he might suffocate himself and get knocked out from the lack of air...at least that'd put him back to sleep. Anything sounded better than waking up. It felt like it was five in the fucking morning.

There was another loud noise, the door to his small bedroom being thrown open carelessly, obviously not giving a damn that Pierre wanted to sleep and familiar hands pulled away the pillow in the process of squishing his head into the mattress.

"Get up sleepy-head! You don't want to be late for your first day of school, now do you?"

Pierre made a noise that oddly resembled the sound of a dying cat and face planted his head back onto the mattress.

"Don't feel well. Need sleep. School can wait. Goodnight."

The words were slightly muted from Pierre literally talking into the mattress, but his aunt heard him crystal clear. She rolled her eyes, not taking any bullshit from her nephew and reached down to tear the covers off the eighteen year old's body, tossing the sheets into a bundle on the floor. She placed her hands on her slim hips as she looked down at him, waiting, cocking her head at the practically lifeless body still on the mattress, Pierre's form unmoving.

She sighed. "You think I'm playing, mister? I did not offer to take you out of your mother's hands for an entire year to put up with this crap."

No response was given from the teen and she grumbled, reaching down to pick up the sheets she pulled from the bed off the floor and exited the room with it to put in the washing room.

Minutes later she returned to Pierre's room, expecting to see the boy getting up and at least attempting the process of getting ready since she took away the things one needed to sleep with, but she was met with the sight of him still lying in bed, the pillow she pulled off of him back under his head. It was silent in his room now, Pierre obviously finding the off button to the alarm on the clock that was still on the carpet after she had left the room. Shaking her head, she sighed almost hopelessly, leaving the room once again.

Pierre foolishly thought he had won, smirking to himself when he heard the light padding of his aunt's footsteps leave the room for the second time and snuggled closer to the pillow beneath his head, managing to fall asleep again quickly.

About fifteen minutes later his aunt returned with a small bucket of cold water, not even hesitating before walking right up to Pierre's bed and tilting it over his head, dumping the contents on the sound asleep teenager.

Screaming, Pierre finally woke up completely, body bolting upright and sat, now wide awake, hands wiping away the water dripping into his eyes from his hair. "What the fuck, Aunt Laura?!" He screeched, looking at her incredulously, like she had about five different heads growing out of her neck. All she could do at first was just grin back at him like she had just won the freaking lottery, bending down to pat him on the top of his head, like he was a good boy, his hair soaked beneath her fingers and palm.

Still waiting for an explanation about the crude way he was woken up, Pierre looked up at the other bewildered, shivering from the cool air of the room against his now damp clothes.

Leaning in close to his face, she smiled sweetly at him before she spoke up again. "I'm not fucking around!"

That was it. That was her explanation and Pierre looked at her with a dropped jaw, fuming. He wanted to scream again, shout about how unbelievably ridiculous and unfair this situation was...how she shouldn't be fucking treating him this way...he was a fucking rockstar, he didn't need to go to school!

Shoving the now empty bucket onto the other's lap, she stood back up straight and went to leave the room. "Clean this mess up and get ready to come down to breakfast. You'll walk with Patrick to school."

And with that she was out of the room, closing the door behind her to give Pierre at least some privacy.

"Mother fucker!" He cursed, letting the bucket drop to the floor and he kicked it across the room in frustration. If there was ever one point where he thought living with his aunt would be like a fucking vacation, he was dead wrong.

It was at that exact moment where Pierre Bouvier wished that he finished high school. He had the opportunity to take classes with a tutor after he left high school school to focus on Reset, but he figured he didn't need that shit with the direction the band was heading. Fuck school, he was going to be a rockstar.

Well, that dream was obviously crushed now. Pierre's ego wasn't, though. He still knew he was hot, he still knew he was the shit and he was very well aware of the fact that he was ridiculously talented and didn't need the bullshit that high school came along with to make him get far in life. The rest of his former band members? They just brought him down. Whatever. His life was so much better without them.

The only thing that really sucked was that now, he was kind of fucked. He had to go back to high school. He couldn't just skip that and perhaps find a job, his mother and his aunt both agreed on that. "Education came first."

"Fuck education," Pierre said bitterly to himself, finally getting off of the bed he was still sitting on, the mattress squishing as the weight was lifted off of it and he groaned inwardly. Well, fuck. Where was he going to sleep tonight? He decided to just worry about that shit later when it actually mattered and managed to drag himself out of his room to go slightly down the hall to the nearest bathroom.

Shutting the door behind him, he locked it before walking over to the sink and looking at himself in the mirror.

It was kind of amazing how so much had changed in the past two months of his life, yet his reflection looked the exact same as it did the same night he was told that there was no more Reset. His knuckles went white, clenching the side of the sink just thinking about it and he stared at his reflection, hating that what potential he knew he had was just thrown away so carelessly.

"It wasn't my fault," he reminded himself outloud, not caring if talking to his reflection made him crazy or not. It wasn't like he needed reassurance, but it really wasn't his god-damn fault. Grunting, he shook his head at himself and felt more water droplets fall down his forehead and the sides of his face.

Fucking Aunt Laura.

Grumbling wordlessly at himself, he wiped himself dry with one of the washcloths hanging on the wall before opening the cabinet above the sink to retrieve the toothpaste and made a grab for his toothbrush on the side of the sink that he unpacked last night, along with his other things.

Why couldn't his mother have just handled him back at home? Was he really that much of a nuisance that she had to pass him over to her sister? What a fucking pussy of a mother, unable to handle and take care of her only child. It's not like she was the greatest mom to begin with but at least with her, he wouldn't have been woken up by a bucket of ice cold water being poured over his head. She may have sucked in the parental department, but she clearly wasn't as psychotic as his aunt was.

It was self-explanatory that she was beyond ashamed of her son, no one needed to really point that out to him and this was now obviously his punishment, being sent away across the provence to live with his aunt to "set him straight". Right. What the fuck was that supposed to prove? That he could handle going back to school and lead a regular teenager's life? Whatever. He was no regular teenager and this whole scenario was bogus.

Pierre just snorted a pathetic laugh as he brushed his teeth, rolling his eyes over everything that he had to go through now. Didn't anyone think that he just wanted to take it easy? He just lost his band, he was on tour with fucking Green Day...didn't he deserve some time to mourn his losses?

After Pierre finished getting ready in the bathroom, he went back into the room he was staying in to change into clothes that weren't wet and appropriate for school; just a regular band t-shirt and jeans. It was the end of October, meaning the weather was starting to get chilly, so he grabbed his best hoodie and slipped that on over his head, pulling it down to cover his toned stomach and hips before finally making it downstairs to where the kitchen was.

He was met with the sight of Aunt Laura and his cousin Patrick busy eating breakfast at the small table that occupied the left corner of the kitchen and he made a face, scrunching up his nose in slight disgust. He was most definitely not a fan of eating food so early in the morning. It made him nauseous.

For a small moment he and Patrick locked eyes and his cousin was the first to look away, back down at his plate and took a bite out of the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of eating.

This entire situation made Pierre feel weird.

He was never close with his family, let alone his cousin who happened to be around the same age as him (only a year younger), and now he had to live with him? Share a place under the same roof? Pierre didn't even want to have to so much as look at him...he was such a pathetic geek and was basically everything that the former singer hated in other people. Patrick knew this too, he knew it all too well because he despised Pierre for the exact same reason.

The one thing that Pierre was happy about, was the fact that both he and his cousin did not possess the same last name.

Langlois.

Laura was his mother's sister, but when she got married she obviously took her husband's last name and has stuck with it ever since, even after he died of lung cancer a few years ago. Pierre was anything but a sentimentalist, but even he had to admit that it was sort of sweet in a way that she wanted to keep the last name forever because she loved him so much.

So sure, Patrick and he were related by blood, but no one in the school they were attending together had to know that they were related.

"Well look who finally decided to join us!" Aunt Laura quipped, the same amused grin that she had given Pierre when she had woken him up on her lips as she took a bite of the toast that was in one of her hands. She used her other to reach out and pull the chair next to her out from of the table, obviously motioning the boy to sit down and eat with them.

"No thanks. I don't eat breakfast, no offense."

Laura made a face at her nephew, eyeing him for a moment before deciding to not even bother, giving a half-hearted shrug and pushed the seat back into the table. Patrick gave a small "go figure" under his breath that, yes, Pierre did catch and went back to paying more attention to the food he was eating rather than his cousin.

Fucking good. Pierre didn't give a shit.

Reaching for the tall glass of orange juice next to her plate, Laura spoke again before tilting the glass to her lips and taking a long drink. "Your choice."

----

Breakfast seemed to last forever and Pierre was horrified when he realized that he was up and ready to go to school at six-thirty in the fucking morning, especially since first period didn't even start till eight AM sharp. Laura woke him up at five fucking thirty. Was she serious?! That had better not been a taste of what he'd have to get used to in the next following year.

Pierre Bouvier did not get up late. Pierre Bouvier slept in, preferably till noon or one PM if he had the choice.

There was already enough things that he had lost that he could end up making a list five pages long about...sleep did not have to be added onto it.

Walking with Patrick to school was so mind-numbingly boring that the distance seemed so much more further than it was in reality, Pierre wanting to just get there already and perhaps meet a few hot girls or guys to get along with.

The only good thing about going to a public school was the fact that Pierre just knew he was going to be bombarded with people that knew who he was. He would easily become the center of everyone's attention. That's what always happened. It wasn't exactly the same as touring the whole country and getting laid practically every night, but it was a start.

Pierre could live with it.

All of it would be a completely fresh start, but he had the upper hand. People would be eating out of his palm in no time flat.

The only thing that he needed to do was make sure he would graduate by the end of the year and then he was home free. Back to doing whatever the hell he wanted to do, live by his own rules. He could survive the school year. Hopefully before he would lose his mind.

Without even looking at the other, Patrick opened his messenger bag and rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper and practically shoved it into the other's chest for him to take. Pierre stumbled back slightly because he didn't expect that and glared at his cousin who kept walking as if nothing happened.

Mumbling to himself about how stupid the other was, Pierre quickly picked up his pace again with walking, catching up to the other in no time.

"That's your schedule, locker number and combination. They put you in all of the same classes that I'm in, only God knows why...I'm not gonna be your fucking watch man all day to make sure you go to class if that's what they were trying to accomplish."

Pierre rolled his eyes at the other, but it wasn't like Patrick was looking at him anyway so the gesture went unnoticed.

"Room numbers are on there as well. I'm not going to walk you to class like some sort of friend, because I'm not--" he pointed out harshly, words aimed to sting, but they fell short of their purpose because Pierre honestly didn't give a shit. "--so don't expect any help and as soon as we're on school grounds you're on your own."

"Whatever dude," Pierre bit back at him, unphased because, well, he wasn't a dumbass. He could figure out room numbers fairly easily. It wasn't like the school was as complicated as a garden maze or anything.

Unfolding the sheet of paper to read his schedule, Pierre was anything but impressed with what he came face to face with. Boring classes. Nothing too exciting or anything that sounded remotely fun was on the list and he just sighed before folding the paper back up and stuffing it into one of the back pockets of his jeans.

Because all of his classes were with Patrick, it made it impossible for attempts at cutting class. The other said he wouldn't be his watch man, but Pierre would be damned if he didn't end up ratting him out at the end of the day to Laura or one of the teachers if he decided to not show up to some...or all of his classes.

Pierre wasn't stupid, he knew a setup when he saw one.

His mother and Laura knew exactly what they were doing. If this was their plan on making sure he didn't have a social life anymore...well, it was going to work. The last thing he wanted to do was clean up any "act" that people thought he had (which he was certain that he did not have), but everything that he was so used to doing was officially out the window.

Any sort of silver-lining about this entire going back to school situation started to seem hopeless.

Pierre was totally and completely fucked, and not in the good kind of way.

David was scarred physically, but Pierre was scarred mentally.

2009-05-18T20:31:46Z

Title: Five Song Drabbles
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: P/D obviously!
Rating: ranges from G to NC-17.
POV: All 3rd person.
Disclaimer: None of these stories are real, just a part of my over-active imagination, dammit.
Dedication: To all of my friends that I met down in Brazil this winter: heybiatch, x_pluie, bitter_poiison, carol_margera etc etc. I miss you all so, so, so much and me writing a fic of some sort is SO overdue. These small ones are for all of you!
Author Notes: The whole point of this was a writing-type exercise. I haven't been able to write a fic even though I've had a million and one ideas running through my head. There's a meme I've come across online with writing fics; put your itunes on random and write ten small fics to songs while are playing...or something like that. I sort of did that. Except I knocked it down to five and I paused the song to concentrate on writing and the drabbles are kind of huge...haha! :-[ These took me about about two weeks to complete, so I hope you all enjoy them.

1. Fall To Pieces - Avril Lavigne (PG-13: foul language/mentioning of sex)

All David wants to know is why it hurt so bad. He's not supposed to feel this way. He was never supposed to feel like this.

In the dressing room that was located at the back of the venue, there was a constant rush of random people in the crew running in and out, around and about, getting ready for the show that was starting in less than ten minutes. It was all a blur of noise and color to the bassist though, he sat down on the couch that occupied the furthest end of the room and didn't move. His body sunk into the worn cushions until he could feel the hard wood that kept them up underneath press hard and uncomfortably against his tailbone but he didn't care.

That pain couldn't even compare to what he was feeling in his chest at that moment.

On the far opposite side of the room, Pierre was standing there with her. Lachelle and him were all smiles, giggling and holding hands and David felt his stomach twist in knots, like he was going to puke.

For a moment, Pierre turned his head and looked over to where David was sitting. The bassist panicked for a split second. It felt like his heart had taken a leap into his throat and he couldn't swallow properly, but it quickly plummeted down into his stomach, adding on to the nausea. Frozen on the spot, his hazel eyes went wide in surprise...but he managed to catch himself and quickly looked away to the empty side of the couch he was on.

But it was too late, the damage was done.

Pierre knew he was staring.

David could've thrown up at that very moment, but he held himself together, keeping the acid in his stomach down and looked back at the singer when he could feel the gaze of the other off of him. Why was it that he could never stop? He could never quit staring at him.

He was met with the view of Pierre kissing Lachelle and his whole body went numb. It always happened. He felt his throat close and he parted his lips to suck down a shaky breath, some much needed air to his lungs, thanking God or whoever the fuck was looking out for him that he was sitting down because he felt so dizzy that he wouldn't have been able to keep standing up if he was.

He felt his heart break in his chest.

It was always the same shattery feeling, like his heart was made of glass and it had dropped to the floor, to become nothing but a bunch of million pieces he couldn't ever form back together. The way he tried to mend his heart was like putting bandaids around the broken pieces to hold them together, but they kept falling off. Everyone knew those never worked forever.

Each and every day of his life he always prayed that day would be the day, each day when he woke up that things would be different and Pierre wouldn't go back to Lachelle after being with him like he always did. David wasn't sure how much longer he could take going to sleep with someone next to him and waking up alone.

When he started this he didn't realize the consequences, how difficult it could become.

Looking away again, this time into his lap, David sighed, blinking back fresh tears that started to burn at his eyes and scolded himself mentally. No, you're not some stupid teenaged hormonal girl who is crying over a fucking guy. Pierre, of all people. That's not you.

His own thoughts were interrupted by a shadow of someone standing in front of him, blocking one of the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Looking up, he felt his heart sink even more in his chest when he was met with no one other than the singer.

In surprise, he sucked in a breath so fast that it turned into a hiccup, making his chest hurt about fifty times more than it already did thanks to his heart.

"Look David, I can't undo--"

The bassist cut him off sharply. "I know."

Silence followed the both of them, Pierre obviously ready to talk in like...what, the timespan of five minutes before their show started? David didn't want a conversation. There was nothing that he could possibly say to do what he felt justice. All he wanted to do was cry in front of the singer...that's all that he could make himself let out after all of this. It's the only thing that made sense.

It was funny in a fucked up sort of way. Ironic. That was the word. The only person David could possibly see himself with for the rest of him life, being faithful to and building a family with...he just wanted him around for sex. Maybe it was karma for all the times the bassist had lead on girls all of his life? He was never the kind to just stick to one person and his infidelity made him break more hearts than he could possibly imagine. Was this what he deserved?

Maybe.

Pierre never told him how he felt. Ever. Maybe that was the part out of the entire situation that hurt the most, how David didn't know what he felt or if anything that went on between them was real, was more than sex. It was to the bassist, how could it not be to the singer?

The way David felt when Pierre just did the simplest things; touched his arm or gave him a look or even walked into the same room as him...the bassist felt sparks. He felt a jolt of something so much more powerful than anything he could possibly put into words flow through him and Pierre had to feel the same way. That's gotta be how it always worked out, one person couldn't just feel that alone. Sometimes the bassist thought he saw the same thing in the other's eyes. Now he just felt blind.

"The show is starting in a few minutes," Pierre's voice cut through the silence and David suddenly realized the two of them were the only people left in the room. Not like it ever mattered that people were in there anyway, David only ever saw the singer, even if they were surrounded by hundreds, thousands of people. "We have to get ready to go on stage, so come on."

Still frozen, legs unstable to actually allow the bassist to stand up, he watched as Pierre turned his back on him and start to walk away to leave for the stage.

In the flash of a moment, David felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth and his eyes close, stomach lurching as he managed to force out the words that he couldn't keep inside of him any longer.

"I'm in love with you."

2. I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace (NC-17: graphic sex/drugs/foul language)

There was a gasp. A sharp intake of breath proceeded by a low moan that seemed to bubble up in David's throat.

His body, small and lithe, bent backwards, arching off the mattress that was below him with ease.

It was a gorgeous sight to the singer, though he wouldn't dare to admit it; David's head tossed back and eyes closed with raven black hair matted to his sweaty forehead and tousled across the pillow underneath it, sprawled out above his head like some sort of halo.

He was no angel, though.

Pink lips, chapped and bruised and swollen from the kisses and bites they took, parted to let out another sound, this time a whimper and his body twitched in time. Pierre's sweaty hands gripped his tiny hips, growling as he withdrew himself before slamming back into the other with a small swerve of his hips to make his aim true.

There was a repeat.

David needed something to hold onto, so he chose the closest thing he could: Pierre.

Sliding his hands up to grasp the singer's shoulders, David latched on like a vice grip, digging his nails into the backs of his shoulder blades to hold on tight as Pierre continued to pummel into him with hard thrusts.

It was all a blur, but in a minute they were both coming. David's body went still as he rocked down to get Pierre to hit his prostate directly on for the last time, shuddering as he spilt himself between the two of them, coating his stomach with his own come. He groaned something that sounded oddly like the singer's name when he felt the other let go inside of him and with a small grunt of approval, Pierre stopped holding himself up and collapsed onto the bassist's body.

With a slight hiss, David pushed the singer off of him, the weight of the other practically crushing his ribcage and he couldn't breathe. As Pierre pulled out of him, David groaned in discomfort and rolled over to his side, facing away from the other.

This was the awkward part.

There was silence for a good handful of minutes, minus the sounds of Pierre picking up his box of cigarettes and taking one out, the click of his flicking the lighter to light it up.

Sleep was starting to dawn on the bassist, at the beginning of a half dream when he heard the question asked: "You want a hit?"

It pulled him out of his dream and turned his body to look at the singer who was sitting up, back against the headboard of the bed and holding out what David now realized was a joint in his hand. He didn't smoke cigarettes, but weed was an exception.

Leaning up slightly on one elbow, he reached out with the other across his body to take the joint from the older man's hand soundlessly, bringing it up to his lips before taking a slow drag.

Holding it in his lungs for a few seconds, David thought about a few things, the situation the two of them were in before he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, exhaling the smoke from his mouth and let the weed sink into his brain for a moment and relax him.

Pierre took the drug back, taking another hit for himself before releasing the smoke with a question.

"So when are you leaving?"

David snorted in a mock laugh, reaching up to rub one of his eyes, smearing the dark khol he lined underneath it hours ago onto his fingers. "Fuck you, I'm in no rush tonight."

"Well I have no room for you to stay for the night so I hope you've got a plan for a way to get home."

"Whatever," David bit back, sitting up and letting the white sheets from the bed drop off of his flat torso to pool around his hips. "You're the one who called me to come here, but thanks for the homely hospitality for a good hour," he managed to finally retort, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the bassist leaned forward to run his fingers through his unruly, fucked up hair, combing out the knots made in it during sex, before he stood up and made his way over to where his shirt was on the floor.

This was always fun. It was like a game almost, David searching out the articles of clothing he came in with because he couldn't remember for the life of him where they were taken off at. Sometimes he managed to find them in pretty fucking ridiculous places.

"What are you doing?"

David didn't bother turning around to face the singer as he picked up the shirt he came in with, now inside out and full of wrinkles.

"What does it look like, you asshole? I'm getting the fuck out of here, just like you wanted!"

This however, was not what Pierre wanted to hear and in a flash the joint was put out and he was out of bed, slamming the other back against the nearest wall. With a weak spine, David let out a small whimper at the hard contact, eyes aglow with nothing but hatred as he glared at the other who pinned his wrists to the wall.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" He seethed, fighting the urge to push back...mainly because he knew there was no point to it, it was hopeless.

"I didn't tell you to leave yet...I'm not done with you. Did I say I was done with you?"

The bassist looked at the other incredulously. Was he serious?! David wasn't some play-thing that anyone could get their kicks out of until they were bored and he was fucking sick of Pierre treating him that way.

"Let go of me."

"No, because you want this."

Getting fed up, David growled, sneering at the singer as he looked up at him, reared his head back slightly and spit directly at his face. That caused the singer to let go of him and the bassist shoved him, getting away from him as fast as he could. It was a feeble attempt though because he still had to gather all of his things and get dressed before he could leave.

He didn't even get to one article of clothing before he was pinned up against another wall of the room wall again, this time his chest pressed against it instead of his back, his hands bracing himself on the wall as Pierre's grip found his wrists again.

"Don't fight it."

The words were growled from Pierre's mouth and the way the sounded leaving his lips made a shiver run up David's spine. He would like to think it was from fear, but he knew better...and he hated himself for it. He stopped struggling and Pierre flipped him back around so that they were facing again, deep brown connecting with hazel as their eyes met.

"I hate you," the younger of the two spat with words instead of spit this time, but Pierre was not phased in the least, having heard those words more times than he could count now.

"I know," Pierre replied back, voice monotone as one of his hands found the other's left hip, traveling down quickly to lift up David's leg and wrap it around his waist, positioning himself at his entrance and without warning or any sort of preparation, pushed in.

A scream ripped from David's throat and reverberated off the walls of the singer's room, head slamming back into the wall behind him as he shut his eyes tightly to keep in the tears starting to form. They had just fucked only minutes ago, but David wasn't ready for another round.

"I...fucking...despise you..." he choked out, Pierre immediately starting a rhythm and the other tried to ignore the pain like he was getting ripped in two, his hands balling into fists against the wall because he couldn't fight back. It was useless.

"I...lothe you...so much...Pierre--"

The singer cut the other off by fusing his lips into his with a rough kiss, David kissing back with fever, making sure to bite hard enough at his lips to draw blood. Pierre whimpered loudly and cursed into the other's mouth, both of his hands finding the other's small hips to slam him harder against the wall and thrust into him deeper.

David was quick to learn though, he always knew what to do. He felt the other barely brush against his prostate and his body quivered, hooking his other leg around his waist and arching off of the wall to get him to drive into him at a different angle.

Fuck yes.

Crying out into the other's mouth, David didn't care to hide the fact that Pierre just hit his prostate, rocking his hips down to meet thrusts as the other didn't waver in the positioning he got him into.

The kiss was broken and Pierre licked at his lips, tasting the blood from the broken skin there and growled in slight anger. He knew he'd have to find a way to explain that come morning and he was running out of excuses as to why his body was supporting all these marks and cuts and bruises.

"Fucking...hate you..." David repeated, but in a slight moan when the singer gave another thrust inside of him, eyes half-lidded as he looked back at the singer, lust clouding his eyes.

"No..." the older man hissed out, sliding out of David and then back in with ease. "You fucking love me."

Halting his movements, Pierre buried himself all the way to the hilt inside of the other, swiveling his hips for constant pressure against David's prostate for consistent stimulation. The other mewled out shamelessly in pleasure, one arm reaching out to hook around the other's neck to hold on, his other hand pressed flat against the wall behind him.

"You fucking wish..." David hissed back, lying through his teeth as he tried to not to look at the singer who was now back to focusing on himself again, thrusts quick but deep inside of him.

He would never admit it.

Ever.

He hated Pierre.

"Maybe..." the singer lost himself for a moment, not really registering in his mind or caring what he said, to focused on the pleasure pooling up in the pit of his stomach and ready to spill over, his body flushing red hot.

But David head him...he heard him all too well. It always went down the same way and they'd pretend nothing was said come the following day. It was a vicious cycle.

Ready to come again for a second time, Pierre moved his hand from the other's hip to his cock to stroke him to orgasm fast. Practically choking to air, David moaned loudly from just the touch of Pierre's hand wrapped tightly around his cock and came hard for the second time that night, muscles squeezing around Pierre to coax him into release as well.

When they finished, they found themselves on the floor, once again at a loss for words...but maybe not quite. Perhaps they knew exactly what to say to each other during that moment of silence every time it happened, but they chose not to.

David left soon after, remembering everything like he always did and when he sat in his car, ready to drive back home. Gripping the wheel tightly as he pulled out of the apartment's parking lot, he couldn't help but wonder how it was possible to hate someone so much, but love them just as badly at the same time.

3. Stellar - Incubus (PG)

It was a clear summer night in Montreal, two teenagers killing time, lying in the grass of an abandoned park downtown. The stars were more than present, each one glowing just a smidgen lighter than they normally did for some strange reason. At least that's what the two boys thought as they spoke to one another, watching the sky.

"Ever think about it?" The older of the two asked, folding his hands underneath his head to get in a more comfortable position, eyes locked on the big dipper, in search for the north star that he knew (from class studies) was connected to the little dipper.

The younger boy stopped sucking on his lip ring to answer his question with another question. "Think about what?"

"The universe, David! All of the stars and other planets and black holes and other dimensions. How it's never ending...it's so freaking cool."

The boy named David gave a small shrug, eyes skimming over the millions of stars right before his eyes, the ones he could and couldn't see. No, he never really did think about it. Sure, it was nice to look at during times like these and finding the constellations he knew was pretty cool to do in his spare time when there was nothing better to do...but he never really thought about how the universe was so large like the other apparently did. It sort of freaked him out, actually.

"We should go up there one day. Just become scientists to be able to get into space and see everything so much better."

"Pierre, I would die. I'm afraid of heights."

"So? I'll hold you, I'll keep you close. I'll keep you safe."

Turning over so that David's attention wasn't on the sky anymore, he propped his head up with one hand as his elbow sunk into the dirt and looked at Pierre. "I didn't realize you liked space so much."

"It just baffles me in such a way that it intrigues me." Pierre tore his gaze from the sky away so that he could look at the blonde boy lying there next to him and he flashed him a small smile. "I wanna go up there and I wanna take you with me."

"We're only fifteen."

"So? Doesn't mean we can't dream about it until then! We'll do it."

David made a face, scrunching up his nose and furrowing his eyebrows as he looked back at Pierre's sudden revelation. "Why do you want me to go up with you so bad? It's your dream, not mine."

It was that moment when Pierre felt his heart sort of sink in his chest, feeling slightly foolish for automatically assuming that just because the two of them were best friends David would agree with everything he had thought about for his future. Averting his eyes away from the confused hazel ones that were staring at him, Pierre gave a small, defeated shrug and chose to look at the patch of grass between their bodies.

He mumbled something that couldn't quite catch David's ears and the younger of the two huffed in slight frustration, unsure why the other was reacting the way he was.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you."

A small blush hit Pierre's face quickly and tinted his usually rosy cheeks a deeper shade of pink. he didn't know how, but he managed to look back up at the other and swallow down all of his fear as he managed to let one thing he had been keeping inside of him as a secret for way too long.

"Because you baffle me in such a way that it intrigues me," he sort of repeated what he said earlier and the same look of confusion dawned across David's features, not understanding the other at all.

"Um...wha--"

Before he could even ask the simple question, Pierre leaned forward and cut him off with a small, innocent kiss. Two lips pressed softly and carefully cautious against each other and the oldest of the two moved away, fearing if he didn't, David would pull away first and he didn't want that to happen.

David's eyes were kept closed for a moment longer than they should've been, the chaste kiss still trying to sink into his mind because everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. When his eyes fluttered open again, he was met with Pierre's curious, yet terrified brown eyes looking back at him.

All the younger boy could do was smile shyly, but his head was tilted and there was an obvious question hidden in his eyes that the other immediately caught because, right, David was totally still confused.

"I just want to be able to show you how you make me feel..."

Slowly, a wide smile broke the shy grin and David was on top of the other, looking down at him, unable to hide the sheer joy that was practically seeping through his veins. Leaning down, he pressed another innocent kiss to the other boy's lips, this time a more confident match up than compared to the first and he could feel the other sigh from relief underneath him.

"I'm pretty sure I already know how I make you feel...because I think I feel the exact same way," David whispered against the other's lips.

It was safe to say that at that moment, Pierre wasn't interested in space so much anymore.

4. Crush - Mandy Moore (PG)

On the back of the tour bus, David Desrosiers was lying on the couch, eyes closed, foot tapping a light rhythm to the song that was playing on his cd player, ear buds snugged in his ears. Pierre was pretty sure that the rest of the occupants on the bus could hear what was playing on them, but he was lucky enough to be able to watch the other in a moment where he was just lost in the music and himself.

He always prolonged it. The singer had been feeling things for the other since the start of the band, before they were traveling in buses and going on tours across the country, but he was always too ridiculously shy to say anything about it. It was pretty strange, especially since Pierre was anything but shy with everything he did in his life.

But when it came to David, things were warped, things were so much more difficult to piece together and the world kind of flipped upside down.

In a good way, though.

A guitar solo filled the air from the headphones David was wearing, volume turned up so loud that Pierre wondered how the bassist's ears weren't bleeding. The other arched his body up from the couch, head tilted back as he bit his bottom lip and pretended to be playing a guitar in his hands, fingers strumming madly at nothing.

Pierre couldn't decide if that was hot or cute. Probably both at the same time.

David seemed to be living in his own world most of the time, so it wasn't a surprise when obvious realization dawned on him and his eyes snapped back open, body falling back onto the couch cushions as he looked over to where the other was sitting.

Oh, right. He wasn't alone.

Rapidly, a blush formed across his cheeks and he pulled the earbuds out of his ears, music still playing on full blast as he looked sheepishly at the singer. Pierre couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips in amusement.

"Please don't say you were watching me."

He was being so adorable that Pierre just wanted to hold him.

"Oh, I was most definitely watching." David went to sit up normally and pressed the stop button on the cd player, not wanting to waste the batteries. "By the way, nice song. Journey? I think the whole bus could hear what you were listening to."

"At least it wasn't something lame...like a couple of nights ago...Britney Spears..." he looked at Pierre with a knowing grin and it was the singer's turn to blush really hard.

"Okay, shut up. No one was supposed to hear that."

"But I diiiiid..." David replied, voice in a sing-song kind of tone before he erupted into a fit of giggles.

Pierre scoffed. "Well, at least you were the only one who heard it. I swear. You know too much about me."

"Like your irrational fear of spiders?" David quipped, practically beaming as Pierre made a face and squirmed in his seat as if a spider was crawling on him. "I swear, if there was a tv show called Things You Know About Pierre Bouvier, I'd win. Hands down."

Pierre eyed the other, trying his best to keep his blush at bay and his heart from doing what felt like millions of flip flops in his chest.

"And you're proud of this because...?"

David shrugged, getting up from the couch he was sitting on because he was getting bored of just being back there already. His ADD was kicking in full blast.

"No idea. Wanna get some food up front? I'm so hungry I could eat like...a whole chicken, I don't know."

Pierre let out a loud laugh and shook his head at the other. Sometimes David really did end up saying the weirdest things...stuff that no one else ever really said, but it made the singer smile so wide.

"I'll be out there in a minute. I just gotta do something first."

David eyed the other for a moment, eyebrow raised but then he gave another shrug when the other didn't want to divulge the information and gave a small "hm" and walked out and down the small hallway to the front of the bus.

Sighing, Pierre tilted his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. He reached up to run his fingers through his gelled hair and took a deep breath. The feelings were starting to get way out of control.

It wasn't like he had anyone to talk to about it either. No one else knew about the crush. Pierre regretted at that moment for not telling even Chuck about it, but just admitting it out loud to himself felt very strange a lot of the time.

Because it was David. One of his bandmates. One of his best friends.

And he had the biggest crush in the world on him.

Groaning softly, he let his hands slip back down to his face and then onto his lap before mustering up the courage to follow to where the other went at the front of the bus. When he got there he came face to face with David sitting on top of the small counter in the 'kitchen' part of the bus, pelting marshmallows at Sebastien who was sitting on the nearby couch. The guitarist was throwing them right back, picking them up off the floor and chucking the small pieces of food back at David, laughing hysterically when the other tried to catch them with his mouth.

"So gross," Chuck mumbled about how David was practically eating off the floor from the table he was sitting at, watching the scene over the top of the magazine he was reading, but he couldn't help but smile at the same time.

Everyone loved David.

Pierre felt like everyone wanted him too, which he knew wasn't the case, but he never understood in his right mind why someone wouldn't want David. He was pretty much perfect.

"I thought you said you were hungry," Pierre said suspiciously, eying the mini-food fight still going on between the bassist and Seb.

"I was," David started, trying to catch another marshmallow thrown at him with his mouth. "But there's nothing to eat in the fridge and I just found this pack of marshmallows. I was gonna go out cause we're sort of parked at a gas station and they have a small convenience store, but then Seb made fun of me and I started throwing the marshmallows at him and--"

"I get it," Pierre cut him off with a laugh, taking the bag of marshmallows from his hand and placing it on the counter. "Come on, lets find something quick to eat at the gas station store thing before we leave."

Two minutes later David was walking up and down the tiny isle at all the kind of chips they could buy.

"Hmm...should I get ketchup chips? Or salt and vinegar?" The bassist thought out loud, picking up a small bag of the latter.

Pierre made a face, plucking the bag from the other's hands before putting it back where he got it. "Ketchup, definitely. So your breath doesn't stink."

Snorting a laugh, David picked up a bag of the ketchup chips. "What does it matter? It's not like you're Katie. You won't have to go through the pain of kissing me with the bad breath!"

Pierre's heart sort of felt like it was snapped by David saying his girlfriend's name, but he should've seen it coming since she always came up in conversation...the bassist couldn't go a day without so much as mentioning her.

"Speaking of Katie, do you think I should call her? She called yesterday and we spoke over the phone for about two hours--" yeah, Pierre knew that. He knew that all too well. "--but we haven't spoken in almost twenty-four hours and I'm beginning to really miss her..."

Pierre swallowed at a lump forming in his throat and attempted to act casual as he picked up a random bag of chips and pretended to look at the ingredients on the back of it. Why couldn't the bassist talk like that about him?

"If you think you should man, then go for it. What does my opinion matter?" He hopped it mattered everything in the freakin world, but he knew that wasn't true.

David let out a flustered little sigh and Pierre felt himself falling for him all over again buy just that one tiny action. Dammit.

"I don't want her to think I'm overdoing it, you know?"

"Yeah."

David got that Pierre didn't want to talk about the subject anymore so he decided to end it.

"Well hey, if we end up having doing it over the phone I'll be sure to lock myself in the bus bathroom or something and get off in there so you won't walk in on me or have to listen!" He joked, looking at the other with a cheeky grin and Pierre decided to humor him and roll his eyes with a smile. A fake smile.

"Thanks."

They were silent for the rest of the few minutes that they picked out snack foods and bought them, David opening up a pack of smarties as they walked out of the convenience store and headed towards the bus.

David was the first to speak again.

"Want some?" He asked, offering the container to Pierre as he crunched on a few pieces he just popped into his mouth. How could the singer refuse chocolate?

"Sure," he said, letting the other dump a few of the colored candies into the palm of the hand that wasn't carrying the overloaded bag of junk food they just bought.

As Pierre ate them, David found this the time to snake his arm around the singer's waist, pulling him close so that they were walking side by side, feet in time with one another. He rested his head on the other's shoulder. It was something that David always did, so Pierre didn't think much of it, but enjoyed every second of it.

"Pierre, you know that you're my number one...right?"

The question almost caused the singer to stop dead in his tracks, the closeness of the two of them already becoming a slight factor to his brain not being able to function properly.

"Of course," he managed to let out, remembering how to speak properly.

"And...I'm your number one too...right?"

David voice was so cautious and small when he spoke, almost afraid of the answer.

"Always," Pierre reassured him, bringing up an arm to drape as casually s he could around the other's shoulders. To the singer's surprise and happiness, David leaned up on his tippy-toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and snuggled closer.

"Good. Cause that's how it's always gonna be."

It was at that moment that Pierre Bouvier gained hope in his tiny crush because maybe, maybe something could eventually happen.

5. When It Rains - Paramore (PG-13: foul language/talk of suicide)

Pierre didn't see it coming. Not even from a mile away.

David was normally happy...the younger of the two was always a bundle of energy, bouncing off all of the walls with a smile on his face. How could he expect anything like this to happen? It came out of nowhere, appeared like magic from thin air.

Lying in the hospital bed, David looked so fragile. His body an odd clash to the colors of the room, his pale skin looking so much more tan when compared to the blinding white everything else around him was.

Pierre always thought it was horribly ironic that the colors of a hospital made him think about what heaven must've been like, wondering if it was as sickeningly white up and out there as it was when you were suffering in an emergency room. Was it a way to prepare you for death?

The questions made him want to puke.

When the doctor came out of the patient's room with thankfully good news, Pierre let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding in. His hands were still shaking, palms sweaty from clenching them into fits in worry and fear. He wiped them semi-dry on the thighs of his jeans, still clammy as they slid down to hold onto his knees as he looked over at David's mother who was sobbing in relief in her husband's arms.

Most of David's immediate family were there and Pierre felt oddly out of place, but when he felt a strong hand clasp his shoulder for reassurance and looked back to see Chuck there with him, it made him feel slightly better. Less alone.

Jeff and Sebastien were on their way from school, having just heard the news, but by the time they would get there, the nurses and doctor would probably request for everyone to leave David alone to rest.

Right now though, he was apparently awake and able to get visitors, but it didn't mean that he was probably ready for them.

Pierre sort of stared off into space, letting the worst case scenarios run through his overactive mind and imagination as David's parents entered the room he was lying in.

He wanted to just stop thinking. All he could really focus on was the mental image that would haunt him forever: walking in on David in the bathroom, unconscious and sprawled out on the floor, slashes on his wrists and blood everywhere.

He had no idea David was suicidal. No one knew. He was happy. How would they be able to see that coming?

It seemed like hours that David's parents were in the hospital room with him, but when they came out, they looked just as miserable as before, if not worse. Pierre guessed that they got an explanation of some sort, the reason behind the madness of David Desrosiers trying to end his life so suddenly and failing at the attempt.

Pierre felt a light push at his shoulders, urging him to get up out of his seat to go into the other room to visit his best friend, but he wasn't so sure if his legs would keep him up if he stood. He felt as if they'd give out underneath him if he tried.

With a little help from Chuck though, he got to his feet and made his way over to the door, opening it slowly and peaking inside with hesitance. He was terrified to look, his worst fear coming in clear now that he saw the other boy lying on the hospital bed in the middle of the small room. Swallowing hard, he pushed the door open completely and stepped inside, letting it close before taking timid steps up to the bed.

It was raining outside, the only thing Pierre could really hear over the beeping of the monitor was the small taps of the raindrops against the window of the room, the sky a dull grayish color which unfortunately set the mood perfectly.

It was fitting almost, how the days when David was upset it seemed to be pouring a river from the sky, the rain touching and drenching every inch of the town for hours. When he thought about it, Pierre could always remember it downpouring whenever the other was sad about something, but he always just blamed it on the weather...just like he blamed migraines that he had on drastic changes of temperature. The weather had a lot to do with how someone felt.

But David...he was different. Pierre thought nothing could bring him down to where this was. What he did...it was like trying to bury himself into a hole that he didn't want to come out of. The larger the hole you dug for yourself was, the more you didn't see the sun.

Clearing his throat and remembering to speak, Pierre broke the silence.

"Hey you."

David looked weaker than Pierre had ever seen him and for a fleeting moment he panicked, fearing the worst, that he could be dying...but that wasn't happening. They got the good word from the doctor, everything would be okay.

The younger of the two was silent, eyes closed and Pierre thought that he might've been so drained from the lack of blood that he fell asleep, so he spoke the two words again, this time a little louder to just double check.

"I heard you the first time, Pierre." David's voice was raspy, quiet but firm as he spoke the words, almost out of annoyance and the older of the two was taken aback, slightly hurt at the roughness of the words.

Opening his mouth to ask if he was okay, Pierre stopped himself. What a stupid question. How would David be even close to being okay? He almost died a few hours ago. If it wasn't for Pierre...

"If you're not gonna talk to me, you can leave because I really don't feel like being stared at when I look like this."

The words stung at Pierre again and he swallowed, hard. This wasn't fair. Pierre saved his life, how could David talk to him this way?

"How could you do it?" He asked, voice so quiet he was almost whispering and David let out a dry, humorless laugh.

"It's like no one fucking gets it."

"Well then, explain it to me," Pierre tried, keeping his cool and doing his best to not freak out over the fact that his best friend's behavior was so foreign.

There was a sigh and David opened his eyes, turning to look at the window next to his bed, the rain almost comforting.

"You wouldn't understand."

That angered the older boy more than anything. How could he not understand? David was his best friend in the entire universe, he would always be there for him. He would always understand him.

"Try me..." Pierre offered, voice still quiet as he took a seat at the empty chair that was next to the head of the hospital bed.

David still wasn't giving him the satisfaction of eye contact and it was slightly frustrating, but Pierre wasn't up for fighting over it. He'd just wait. He knew that the other would eventually look at him if he didn't leave. David could be so stubborn, but it didn't take much for him to cave. A part of Pierre figured that this was a cry for attention (as most suicide attempts were at their age), so he was giving David what he figured he wanted, but didn't want to admit: attention.

"Sometimes I don't want to see the sun anymore," David finally spoke, still watching the rain as it poured down outside.

"Well, you're lucky that it's in the middle of storming right now," Pierre cracked a joke, but there was no laughter that followed and he felt like he was just kicked in the gut. Maybe he shouldn't try with the jokes just yet.

The silence stung every square inch of Pierre until the other spoke again. "I'm being serious."

"I know," Pierre replied quickly and he reached up with one hand to place it over the other's on the mattress, biting his lip as he saw the other wince.

There were bandages wrapped around David's wrists and Pierre was there when the wounds were fresh, he saw them minutes after the blade had cut them. He breathed a sigh of relief that they were under control now, that the bleeding had stopped. It was hard to get over though, the image of David starting to fade away on the floor of his bathroom would haunt Pierre forever. The scene would never be able to leave his mind. He was so glad that he was able to save his life, but at the same time he wish that it was someone else who found him there and did it rather than him.

David was scarred physically, but Pierre was scarred mentally.

"You're crying..."

Pierre's head shot up from looking at David's hand and wrist to look back at the other's face who was now looking at him, finally, but concern stretched his features. He was crying? Pierre didn't even realize, but now he knew he was because his vision was getting blurry. He blinked to change that, feeling a single tear drop fall from one his his eyes and cascade down his cheek. Letting out a small, sad laugh, he shook his head, unbelieving.

"How can you possibly be so concerned for me when you're lying here in a fucking hospital bed for trying to kill yourself?"

All David could to was shrug and he turned his head to look up at the tiles on the ceiling.

"Did you know there's about sixty-five tiles on the ceiling of this room?" He asked, abruptly changing the subject and Pierre squeezed the other's palm, trying so badly not to start crying heavier.

"How can you go and do that?" He asked, voice starting to strain from all the emotions that he was keeping inside of him. "Pretend like nothing is wrong? That you're not in this hospital bed right now because you tried to end your life?!"

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" David snapped, hazel eyes back focusing on Pierre, something the singer didn't recognize flaring in them. "You don't have to talk to me about being in the hospital for a suicide attempt for me to realize it, or to make it real because I do know that I almost died and yes Pierre, yes, it's definitely one-hundred percent real and yeah, I almost died."

Pierre visibly winced. It was like a verbal slap in the face, but David did have a point. There was nothing he could say back to that.

All Pierre wanted to know was the answer to why it happened, but he wasn't getting it. What made him feel even more stupid was the fact that he was David's best friend and yet he had no clue how this could've happened. Wasn't he the one who was supposed to know? Have all the answers?

There was only one question left to ask David though and Pierre bit down on his bottom lip as he tried to bring himself to asking it.

"Are you going to be okay?"

It wasn't a question asking him if he was okay right then and there, but it was to ask for the hope of the future, to know that things would eventually be okay, that David would eventually be alright and able to get through this.

"Maybe."

Another squeeze of David's hand was given from Pierre and he stood up slightly so that he could lean over the other's body and wrap an arm cautiously around him, giving him a light but reassuring hug. Pressing a kiss to the other's temple, Pierre felt him relax in his arms.

"I am so sorry if you didn't think I was here for you at any point, but I am. I always will be, okay? I promise. Don't ever feel like you're wasting my time by telling me about your problems, because you're not. If there's anyone I'd give my time away to...it'd be you. Please remember that," he mumbled against David's hairline, but the other understood every word that was said to him, crystal clear.

"I will," he replied meekly, trying to keep his own emotions together as he slid an arm around to the other's back, hugging him closer.

"I love you, David."

"I love you too, Pierre."

One day they'd find out how much they really meant those words.

He needed to escape. Run run run.

2009-03-29T17:11:23Z

Title: Boulders
Author: daviddesrosiers
Rating: PG
POV: 3rd
Summary: He just wants to forget him. Drabble. Wrote this while listening to the song Boulders from New Found Glory, hence the fic name.
Disclaimer: Don't own, never will. Etc etc.

Wind ripping through his hair, Pierre Bouvier ran through the familiar streets of Montreal, the sound of his converse slapping against the pavement and echoing down the deserted allyways as he picked up speed.

Heart hammering his his chest, the singer took deep breaths to keep up with himself and felt faint, but he refused to keep moving. He needed to do something, keep his body occupied, keep his heart occupied so it didn't feel like breaking anymore. It was strong. He was strong.

That was a lie. He saw them. He needed to escape. Run run run.

He wanted to cry.

Lungs ready to collapse, he chose to ignore it and picked up speed, still running. Vision blurring from the mix of lights and sound, his eyes closed, heartbeat thumping in his ears blocking out the words falling from his lips like a mantra.

A long time ago, someone told him that if you repeat a word over and over again, you lose sight of the meaning, it starts to fade into nothing.

"David Desrosiers...David Desrosiers...David Desrosiers..."

He wants to know your name. Fuck. Pierre Bouvier wants to know your fucking name.

2008-09-18T22:21:12Z

Title: Cigarettes (oneshot)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: Davierre as I like to call it.
Rating: NC-17.
POV: Second, through David.
Summary: David Desrosiers manages to book the same hotel as Pierre Bouvier for a night without even trying.
Warnings: Sex and cursing.
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own either of them. Sigh.
Dedication: For Matt.
Author Notes: This is old Pierre and David. Old. I mean, really, really old. It's supposed to take place during the time when Pierre was in Reset so probably 1998/1999ish? That makes David 18/19 and Pierre 19/20 if you do the math. Okay. That's basically it haha.

You don't really know how it happened exactly, but you would be lying if you said you weren't caught off-guard when Pierre Bouvier...Pierre Fucking Bouvier...walked out of the front doors of the hotel you were staying at. The smoke you inhaled into your lungs as you took a drag from your cigarette caught in your throat as you forgot to breathe and you ended up choking like a fucking moron, unable to hide from the singer's gaze which was now focused soley on you.

"Are you okay man?" He asked, a hint of amusement lacing his voice and...God, you kind of just wanted to die right then and there. This kind of embarrassment probably hurt more than death.

After opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a few seconds, you manage out a "y-yeah, I'm alright." Stuttering and all. Classic.

He doesn't seem phased by how bad you're starstruck and it kind of hits you that he must be so used to this shit by now with how much attention he gets. After all, he's the lead singer of Reset, a band that had enough hits in the country you lived in that you could count them using the fingers on both of your hands. You feel dumb, holding a hand to your chest as you give another cough to fully clear your lungs and swallow down to get the dry feeling to disappear from your throat.

"Can I bum a cigarette?"

The last thing you expected was for Pierre to carry on the conversation. Okay, so maybe that didn't really count as carrying on the convo, but it sure as hell was a lot more than "are you okay". You nod wordlessly, like a dumbass, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from your back pocket, opening it and pointed the small box in the other's direction who took the spot against the wall right next to you, leaning against it. You don't remember hearing anything about him smoking at all, no rumors, no pictures leaked, so all of this is a little confusing to you...but you don't dare ask as he takes one from the box and reaches into one of the pockets his jeans to pull out a lighter. After a few flicks, the cigarette lights and Pierre takes a long drag, tilting his head up to the smoke into the cool air.

"I should really quit."

You realize you're staring when he starts to talk again, so you quickly turn away, looking straight ahead at the empty street infront of you. Feeling a slight burn at your fingertips, you look down and realize that, oh yeah, you still have your unfinished cigarette in your hand...but suddenly, smoking didn't seem so appealing. Especially now since you're concentrating way too hard on actually breathing correctly that smoking would probably kill you on the spot. You'd rather wait years for that to happen.

"You know, I'm not gonna bite. You don't have to be so quiet..." Pierre seemed to struggle for a moment, eyeing you up and down and pursing his lips together as if trying to remember something. "...what's your name?"

"David," you basically choke out the word, cheeks immediately growing hot at how eager to are you answer his question. He wants to know your name. Fuck. Pierre Bouvier wants to know your fucking name. It's surprising that you're not jumping up and down for joy at this point. He smirks at you.

"I've seen you around, I remember your face," he noted outloud, taking another drag and tilting his head away so he didn't blow the smoke in your face. Pointing at you with the same hand that held the cigarette, he continued. "You've been to some of the shows."

"Yeah..." you managed to breathe out, taking another gulp of air to calm your nerves down. Dropping the cigarette from your hand, you let it fall to the pavement and put it out with the toe of your shoe. "Yeah, I'm a big fan." You try to say that as nonchalauntly as possible, eyes glued to the ground as you speak because...wow, you don't have the guts to even look him in the eye. You were met with silence and that peaked your curiosity to how the other managed to take the statement, so you looked up to see his face. The smirk was still there and your cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink.

"Well thank you, David," Pierre's voice slowed down as he pronounced your name, almost sensually and you felt a shiver creep up your spine. Taking one more drag from the cigarette, Pierre put it out against the wall and let it drop to the ground, taking a step closer to close the gap of space between the two of you. "I appreciate it." There was a small pause, the singer looking you up and down one more time and you had the sudden urge to just...bolt it. Run down the street and away from him, far away from him. Nerves were piling up in your stomach and...whoa. Why the fuck were you nervous? He wasn't going to do anything. He was straight.

"It's hot when you have gay fans."

It was like time had stopped, your heart halting in your chest as the words left Pierre's mouth. What did he just say?!

"Excuse me?" You want to sound offended. You do. You really do. You want to try to prove to him that you're not that transparent, that he shouldn't assume that you were like that, that you were gay right off the bat. You weren't even gay anyway! ...at least not fully, anyway. But how the fuck dare he assume shit like that?! He didn't even know you.

"You heard me. You don't need to get so flustered, David. Like I said, it's hot."

Before your brain could form anything coherent in an attempt to say back, Pierre fully closed the gap between the two of you and...holy shit. Lips pressed firmly against lips and you stood there in wide-eyed shock. Pierre was kissing you. Pierre Fucking Bouvier was kissing you. His hand gripped the back of your neck to push your head forward, make you kiss him back and...oh yeah, you weren't exactly returning the favor and, what were you, stupid?! Closing your eyes, you move your lips against the ones pressing into your own and suddenly you're being pushed into the ally between the hotel and...some place that didn't even matter to you right now that it was next to.

Pierre pushes his tongue past your lips, not even bothering to ask politely to deepen the kiss with a few licks at your bottom lip like you'd expect, but that was o-fucking-kay because you wanted this pretty badly anyway. Fuck being polite. Your body slams back against the brick wall of the hotel and you whimper in a bit of pain, the sound getting swallowed up into the other's mouth. He sucks hard on your tongue, causing growls to emit from the back of your throat and you break the kiss to attack his bottom lip with your teeth, nipping and bitting and sucking at it till Pierre pulled away. He licked at his kiss swollen lips and shot you another one of his smirks before leaning in and whispering into your ear.

"Can I blow you?"

If you weren't already hard by that point, that probably would've done the trick and you're fucking speechless because, fuck yeah! Yeah he can blow you! Jesus fucking Christ, did he even need to ask that question?! So you just moan something out that you can only hope sounds remotely like a yes, biting so hard into your bottom lip that you're afraid you might draw blood as you wait for his next move.

Pierre sinks to his knees not even a second later and you pry your eyes open just to look down at the sight. You're pretty sure this is never going to happen again because, well, shit, you're not that lucky...so you kind of want to remember this. For...future things. How could you be sure that you weren't dreaming this? You'd pinch yourself if you weren't in the situation you were in now; backed up against a wall outside with Pierre Bouvier on his fucking knees infront of you, because that would just look a little too weird. He probably thought you were strange enough already.

It didn't take long for him to undo your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down before tugging the pair of pants low off of your hips. He reached up, grazing his hand over the bulge in your boxers and you let out a moan so carelessly because, fuck. who fucking cares who could be listening to you right now? You sure didn't, and that's all that fucking mattered. Pierre gave your cock a squeeze through the material of your boxers and you begin to pant in anticipation, almost forgetting how to breathe. His lips weren't even around you yet and you were forgetting how to fucking breathe. Great. You'll be a goner before all of this was over.

He pulled your boxers down to the same level as your jeans, revealing your cock. Watching with wide eyes, you didn't dare look away as he licked his lips and leaned forward to press wet, open mouthed kisses up your length. His tongue flicked out at random spots, making sure to come out and tease once he got to the tip and he let out a groan when he got a taste of the precum starting to form. You couldn't help but let out a series of whimpers and squeaks of pleasure as the teases, rocking your hips up in the direction of the singer's mouth once his lips got to the head of your cock. Pierre just laughed at your impatience and gripped the base before slipping his lips around the head, taking you completely into his mouth.

You fucking saw stars.

It was damn near impossible for you to keep your eyes open any longer, so you didn't, instead throwing your head back in pleasure as you felt the tip of your cock hit the back of Pierre's throat. The back of your head smacked into the wall and, fuck that really hurt, but you couldn't focus on the pain for very long since pleasure overtook your body anyway. The singer knew how to use his mouth...to put it simply. You hissed out as Pierre's tongue dragged up the vein on the underside of your cock as he bobbed his head up and back down, tongue moving to tweak and lap at the head every single time he pulled his lips back. It was embarrassing (then again you managed to make yourself the king of embarrassment this entire time and Pierre still asked if he could blow you), but you were close to cumming really fast this time around and...holy shit, if he kept on using his tongue like he was doing right then, you didn't stand a chance.

"Pierre...I, ungh, I'm going to come..."

He hummed in approval and your whole body tensed, flushing hot from head to toe and you mewled out in absolute pleasure. Hand reaching out, you thread your fingers through his dark hair and held on tightly, bucking your hips to fuck his mouth just a bit and he didn't seem to care since his own hands gripped your hips tightly to push them forward. The last thing you remember him doing was swallowing around you and you cum so hard into his mouth and down his throat with a scream of his name, nails digging into his scalp as he made sure to take it all in.

Your mind is a whirlwind, a dizzy mess as Pierre licks you clean, finally removing your cock from his mouth. Body weak and leaning against the brick wall behind you, you pant for air to fill your burning lungs and pray for your heartbeat to slow down quickly. You can barely think, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that Pierre just fucking blew you in the ally right next to the hotel you both managed to book for that night. He helps you by tucking you back into your boxers, doing up your jeans after pulling them back up your hips and then he's back on his feet. That's when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, the singer still smirking just like he was minutes ago when you were eyeing him smoking the cigarette he asked for from you.

Body buzzing from the after-effects of the orgasm, all you could do was manage a small smile back and he let out an amused laugh.

"Thanks for being such a big fan, David."

A kiss was pressed against your lips, the lingering taste of yourself mixed with the nicotine of the cigarette from before hitting your senses as you tried to kiss back...but then he was gone, walking out of the ally and back into the hotel and...damn. You really need to go to a hell of a lot more Reset shows now.

"Bonjour baby, nous devons parler."

2008-08-25T12:39:30Z

Title: Holding On (4/4)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: Pierre/David obviously
Rating: NC-17.
POV: Third
Summary: Pierre gets the inspiration to write the song Holding On.
Warnings: Boysex, cursing and hinting of violence.
Disclaimer: Don't own either of them or Simple Plan's other bandmembers and songs, please don't sue. I am a poor college student with no money.
Dedication: For Rissa and Matt.
Author Notes: The song Holding On on the new Simple Plan CD pretty much screams P/D to me, ever since the first time I heard it, for a LOT of reasons. This is my take on the reason to why it was written.
Previous Chapters: prologue / one / two / three

It wasn't an easy task to fully calm down Lachelle Farrar, but David took his time with it the best he could. He thought it was pretty lucky of him to be able to get her full attention, have her stop screaming at him and control herself enough to listen to everything he had to say. The last thing the bassist wanted to do was come off as the bad guy. It didn't stop him from thinking that, though. He always thought of himself as the other guy, the one that had been in the way of Lachelle and Pierre getting together...especially after the hideous break up they had. David had no one to turn to after that, not even his bandmates and he felt too ashamed to admit what happened to anyone anyway.

Fully believing that Pierre was going to be with him, it made David feel stupid for ever thinking that. He felt that if he admitted that to Jeff, Seb, Chuck or Patrick they would tell him that he was such a fool. The last thing David needed after Pierre tore things apart was to get kicked when he was down. He didn't need to feel any more ridiculous, stupid.

David was broken. He had become nothing but a bunch of pieces; like shattered glass. No one was able to put him back together, it was impossible, and if someone tried...they'd end up getting hurt too, possibly worse. David's girlfriend at the moment had put up with a lot of shit she didn't understand. She'd watch David cry himself to sleep at night over things she didn't know about and he'd refuse to acknowledge it the next morning.

He never cheated on her. At the time that Pierre ended things with David, he was quote on quote "single" so he hadn't been lying to anyone. He had bullshitted through the entire relationship with Ali, but he didn't really give a fuck about that. When Kim came into his life, there was no Pierre left in it. Kim never met the true David, she only met some of the broken pieces that were still intact. David promised himself that he'd never cheat again, that he learned his lesson...he learned it the hard way. He tried to fall in love with her, he honestly did, but he couldn't. How could he give someone his heart when someone else was still holding onto it? It was a lie to say that he was okay. David would never be okay ever again, even if he tried to convince himself that he was, that he would be. The only person to make him whole again was Pierre and it was never going to happen.

Once David had finished letting everything out to Lachelle, he felt ten times lighter. It was like a fifty pound weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He was finally able to speak about what had happened and not bullshit his way around it or hide anything away. All of it had been ripping him apart, tearing him up inside and sometimes it was just too much to handle. It was all out there now though, out in the open and to the person that David needed to keep it from for years.

But just because it was off of his chest and the weight had been lifted, it didn't make him feel better about himself.

He still felt like shit.

Lachelle ended up crying hysterically. She ended up in David's arms, holding onto him as tight as she could as she gasped for breath and soaked his shirt with tears, head buried in the crook of his neck. David wanted to cry too, he wanted to let it out just as bad, but he couldn't. He was dead inside from it all. Instead, he just stroked her long blonde hair and rubbed her back to try and soothe her, calm her down.

How do you calm someone who just got their heart broken? David didn't know, how could he have known?

No one was there for him.

He let Lachelle have her breakdown in his arms though and he held her through it. He held her because no one held him. He held her because he felt guilty. He held her because he knew what it felt like. She needed someone.

She left after her breakdown, with David's journal in her hands (his permission to take it) and with a small 'thank you'. Nothing else needed to be said.

After she left the room, David stood there for a few moments, turning thoughts over in his head. Slipping his hand into the righthand pocket of his jeans, the bassist pulled out his cell phone and turned it on as he walked over to the bed. Plopping down on the corner of it, he searched through his address book till he came across the familiar number he was looking for.

At first he didn't press send. He stared at the number for a few seconds and then glanced around the room as if paranoid that someone was lurking in a corner, hiding to spy on him and listen in on the private phone call. David still felt guilty and would probably continue to feel that way even after what he was about to do, perhaps more...but it was inevitable. He had been holding back on doing this for way too long.

Taking a deep breath, David looked back at his phone and pressed send, swallowing hard as he brought it to his ear to hear the familiar voice on the other end.

"Bonjour baby, nous devons parler."

Hello baby, we need to talk.

----

Pierre found himself in the same place he was just hours prior with a bag of food in his hands. This time however, he was holding David's diary instead, the piece of paper with the lyrics he put together tucked and kept safe between the pages. He didn't hesitate like he did the last time with knocking on the door. He knew what he wanted, the singer knew why he was here at David's hotel door this time around.

It was funny really, how they were honestly supposed to be spending only two nights at this hotel and Pierre now knew the place like the back of his hand. The day had seemed to drag on for what felt like weeks to the singer, everything sort of happening like it was going in slow motion. It didn't take long before he heard the light pitter-patter and shuffling sound of footsteps from the opposite side of the door and soon Pierre was face to face once again with and open door and David Desrosiers.

Before the bassist even had time to manage out a word of defense, Pierre pretty much stepped inside of the room, inviting himself in. He quickly dropped the diary on the nearest table and turned to look at the other who was staring at him in confusion, brows knitted.

"Pierre, what do you wan--"

Pierre cut him off by grabbing his left arm by the wrist, (perhaps a bit too roughly, but he was paranoid) and pulled back the long sleeve of his shirt to reveal David's bare arm.

"Pierre...what are you doing..."

David wasn't struggling nor was he trying to pull away from the other's grip. He just stood there and looked away from the singer, shaking his head almost in disbelief. The way he spoke, voice flat, David wasn't phased in the least by Pierre's actions...he did understand what he was doing. He knew exactly what the other was trying to look for.

Not finding what he was searching for, Pierre dropped his arm and took the other, doing the exact same thing as he did with the left. He found nothing. Dropping the arm in defeat, he looked up at David's face to find the bassist looking at him again, hazel eyes turned a shade of dull. Empty. David looked empty.

"David...I thought..."

"I haven't cut myself in months, Pierre," he answered his question with the same flat tone that the singer had become accustomed to in the past few days...weeks...maybe even months now. David reached to tug both of his sleeves back down.

It was so typical. David was the emo kid, he played the part well. He played the part so well that he went through with hurting himself physically to distract himself from the emotional pain. What else would anyone expect? Anyone could've seen it coming but no one guessed it. It was just one of those types of situations were people couldn't see what was happening right under their noses.

"Why did you do it?" Pierre's voice was frail as he spoke, body feeling weak and head dizzy now having the information that David really did cut himself start to sink in. That the red on the diary pages he touched were really his blood.

David shrugged nonchalauntly, giving a toss of his hair to get the ink black strands out of his eyes.

"Because you didn't love me anymore."

He spoke as if it was no big deal, no big deal that he cut himself, but it was. It was the biggest deal of Pierre's life and the singer felt like crying...like dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around the bassist's legs to hold him close. He wanted to bawl his eyes out and kiss every scar on the other's body that was made from the pain to distract him from the pain that Pierre had inflicted onto him without caring. He hurt David. He fucking hurt David and there was nothing he could do to change the past.

"I've always loved you..." Pierre had to remind himself to actually speak, form words on his tongue because the bassist couldn't read his thoughts. It would be so much easier if he could, Pierre was such shit with words, but that was impossible.

"Right. That's why you left me for Lachelle a year ago," David spat back bitterly and moved to go get his diary that Pierre brought back to him. He wanted to burn it, destroy it. None of this was worth the pain anymore and maybe if it was gone, it would be easier to move on. Before he could reach the table though, Pierre made another grab for his arm, this time at his bicep. "Let go of me. I'm tired of your lies Pierre, everyone's tired of them!"

"But I'm not lying!"

"What do you want from me?!" David finally managed to get out, the first question he tried to ask when the singer had appeared at his hotel room door and invited himself inside. Wretching his arm away, David looked at Pierre through narrow slits of his eyes. "Why are you back here with me? Because Lachelle ended things with you? Because you can't stand to be by yourself? Do you always need someone to fuck? I'm done being that person, Pierre. I'm done being your toy." Taking a deep breath and a step closer, David's face was now inches away from the others. "Get out."

Pierre didn't even have to think or hesitate for a moment before he leaned forward and stole a kiss...the bassist's lips too close to his own to miss out on the chance. It was stupid to think that a kiss could solve all of this, all of the problems and mend David's heart. It just didn't work that way. Kisses don't wipe away lies, they don't mend broken hearts and they certainly don't heal cuts. He was desperate, though. His hand immediately shot up to the back of David's neck to keep him there, knowing that the other was probably going to pull away, Pierre wasn't stupid. David's eyes shot open when familiar lips came in contact with his own, pursing his lips together to keep the kiss from deepening, getting to the next level...the level that made it so hard for him to ever pull away.

Hands finding the singer's chest, David shoved the other back and away from him as tears started to form in his eyes. Pierre stumbled a bit at the force of the bassist's shove, not expecting it to be so powerful, but anger's a good fuel for energy.

"You can't fucking do that, Pierre!" He cried out, choking on a sob that threatened to crack from his throat. "You can't just fucking kiss me and expect all of the pain to go away!"

"Why, David? Why can't I do that?" Pierre gasped, trying to regain his breath since he basically poured himself completely into the kiss he got shoved away from.

"Because!" It wasn't a yell, it was more of a strain. David's voice was starting to break and it was becoming more and more difficult to hold back tears and even breathe correctly. "Because Pierre, I'm done being nothing to you when you're...you're everything to me."

David hated himself the moment he let those words slip out. He had tried so hard to keep it in and show no weakness infront of Pierre since the night in the hotel room a year ago. After he had ended things with him. Now all of his guards were down and he felt transparent. Pierre could see right through him to his deepest, darkest secrets and reading his diary didn't help much either. That whole sentence was basically etched onto the page over and over again in different phrases and words. Just saying it outloud though, saying that Pierre meant everything to him...it just put the icing on the cake.

"Why can't you understand the fact that I love you too?" Pierre didn't know what to do, he felt like the walls were closing in around him and he was losing oxygen to breathe. He fucked up so much in the past that now, now when everything he needed to say mattered the most...it didn't mean anything coming from his lips.

Because of him David was now jaded and cynical and trusted nothing.

"You want to know why? Really? Because everything always has to be about you! You're a selfish piece of shit, Pierre. You only talk like this when you want something. You build the person up just so you can get your satisfaction and then you leave them high and dry. You leave them to die."

Pierre swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. Somehow that hurt more coming from David's mouth than Lachelle's.

"I'm done dying over you..." David practically whimpered that last part out and bit his bottom lip to try and stop himself from crying, stop the overflow of tears trying to spill from his eyes.

"Please just listen to me," Pierre begged, reaching over to take David's diary off of the table he placed it on when he walked through the door and the other swallowed thickly as he watched him. Honestly, David wanted to slap Pierre for taking his diary, but he didn't. He couldn't. The bassist was never one for violence. Instead he clentched his fists and gritted his teeth which helped control his tears too.

"I can't believe you stole that from me to read. It just proves even more how selfish you are."

The singer didn't reply to that comment. Instead, he bit his tongue and flipped the diary open to try and find the page with the piece of paper with lyrics lodged inside it. watching this, David couldn't take it, body starting to shake from all of the emotions building up inside of him and not being let out. If Pierre read his words outloud back to him, David would just die. The other would just kill him even more and cut his heart in half, hurt him effortlessly.

"Give me that back," he whispered.

"No, not yet. I'm looking for something."

"Give me my fucking diary back, Pierre...or I swear to God--"

Finding the paper, Pierre pulled it from the book and shut it, pushing the diary back into the hands of its owner. "There. You have it back, but before you say anymore just...just read this. Please." Holding out the folded piece of paper infront of David, Pierre's hand shook with nerves and he inhaled deeply through his nose to calm himself down. The bassist looked at the note that the other held out to him, then back at his face...and then back at the paper. He debated longer than he should've about taking the piece of paper from Pierre's hand, but he ended up doing so when the singer uttered another helpless please.

It seemed like an eternity to Pierre as he watched the other open the letter, time sort of stopping once it was fully unfolded, the bassist's hazel eyes skimming over the words written across the paper. He didn't know if he wanted to watch him or not, scared of the reaction he was going to get. Suddenly regret washed over him. He shouldn't have taken David's journal. He shouldn't have made that into a song. David was just going to hate him more than he already did and if Pierre was lucky, maybe the bassist wouldn't crumple up and throw the paper back at him once he was done reading it.

Maybe time was going super slow for Pierre, but it seemed like way too long of a time for David to read the lyrics and his facial expression was still blank.

"Look, you don't have to say anything. I just wrote all of that down for a song idea and Chuck likes it--"

"You gave this to Chuck?" Even David's voice was blank so Pierre felt like he was walking around eggshells now. One wrong move and he could ruin everything he was trying to fix.

"Y-yes...I wanted to make it into a song to put on the record. He thinks it's amazing and we tried to put a melody to it with a few beats earlier..." Pierre was starting to bable on, voice shaking just as much as his body was and David finally looked up from the piece of paper. His face still looked unreadable, but Pierre saw shock in his eyes...at least he thought he did. Maybe he hoped he did...for something, any type of emotion for him to understand about how the bassist felt at that very second.

Silence took over the room and Pierre felt like it wrapped around his throat and proceeded to choke him, he needed to speak. As he opened his mouth to speak though, his eyes averted David's and moved to look at a spot on the carpet below him, trying to gain the confidence to say what he could.

"I felt like it needed to be on the cd and I know you'd never open your mouth and say something about writing a song...which you technically didn't do...but the words are so mindblowing and sad and...tragically beautiful." He stopped to swallow, throat tight, looking up to meet the hazel of David's eyes. "Tragically beautiful like you are..."

David looked at Pierre, the blank exterior melting away. Pierre saw the lump in his throat as the bassist swallowed hard, he saw the tears start to well up in his eyes and spill over to cascade down his pale cheeks. The singer closed his mouth, afraid to say more.

"And you went to do this without my permission?"

"I started it without it, yes. But I didn't intend on finishing though with it if you disagreed. It's not my song. I have no right to say if it should go on the cd or not, no matter how much I want it to be. No matter how much I want to prove to you that I still love you and always will."

Silence.

"You know I hate my writing."

"I know."

More silence.

"I wouldn't want my name to be written to credit it when it's on the cd."

Pierre's eye focus had gone back to the floor in fear of rejection, but they snapped back up to look at the other after he said what he did.

"You want...you want it to be on the cd?"

David pursed his lips together, still letting the stray tears that managed to fall from his eyes roll down his cheeks. The water in his eyes seemed to make the hazel glow from the way the lights of the room hit them. He paused for a moment, sucking on his bottom lip before he spoke softly.

"Only if you mean what you say."

"I do," Pierre breathed out, trying to catch a breath to his now burning lungs as his heart lifted in his chest with hope. "I mean it. I love you, David. I want to be with you. I want this to work out, I want us to work out."

Not being able to hold it in anymore, David started to sob. At first it was a soft one, which Pierre mistook as a breath, but a few more followed and the bassist's body shook, dropping the diary and lyrics from his hands, too weak to hold on to anything anymore and they fell to the floor. Pierre saw his body start to sway and he immediately moved forward a few steps to catch David before he was on the floor along with the things he dropped, holding the younger man in his arms tightly, wrapping them around his waist as David's head buried into his neck. Pierre could feel the tears from his eyes wet his skin and travel down to soak the collar of his shirt. The bassist's hands reached to clench desperately at Pierre's shirt, holding on as his body wracked in sobs he couldn't hold in anymore.

Finally. All David could think now that he was in the comfort of someone's arms to hold him when he was breaking down was finally.

"Please...don't let go," David whispered against Pierre's damp neck, nose clogged and voice breaking. If it was possible, the singer held him closer, pressing a firm kiss to his temple before lowering his mouth to his ear to whisper back to him sincerely.

"I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. I'm not gonna lose you again, David. I promise. I won't let go."

The bassist body shook with every sob and Pierre did nothing but hold him close, hold him together as he continued to cry. There was nothing more to be said, the singer didn't even want to say anything more in fear that he wouldn't say the right thing and fuck everything up again. Little by little the sobs and the tears subsided, short intakes of breath being taken by David every few seconds as he hiccuped, body relaxing now that he let everything out. His hands were still clutching at the other's shirt, scared to let go, but body weak as he leaned into Pierre's warm embrace.

Hands on the bassist's back, Pierre it rise with each slow breath he took, rubbing soothingly. David was still shaking and the singer promised himself that he wouldn't let go till he could at least stop feeling the other tremble under his fingertips.

Pulling away, finally able to stand up on his own two feet without any help, David opening his eyes and looked into Pierre's. Hands didn't leave his shirt and the singer's moved to the other's arms, carefully touching him and holding him there. Pierre wanted to ask if he was alright now, but the words stuck to the roof of his mouth like honey. Instead, he just looked into David's eyes that were glazed with tears, waiting for something...anything to be done or said. He couldn't make the first move.

David's legs were sort of wobbly as he tried to put all of his weight on them, standing up straight. The two of them sort of stared at each other for a moment or so, each waiting for the other to make the next move that they both knew they wanted...but were too scared to initiate. Not being able to take it any longer and somehow managing not to fall over and he lifted himself up onto the tips of his toes, David leaned up, eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his mouth against Pierre's.

There was abolsutely nothing sexual about this kiss, no hidden agenda behind David's lips as they pressed softly and hesitant against Pierre's and the singer was reminded of the first time they did this, the first time they kissed. It was light and innocent and he could feel the other's lips shaking against his, hesitant and scared...and it made him nervous too. He didn't want to fuck up, he never wanted to fuck up again and he would be damned if he ever ended up doing it again. David's lips were soft and wet and tasted like the salt from the tears that had left his eyes from the crying he had done and it just made Pierre's heart break in the weirdest way because on the other hand, he felt like soaring. The bassist was standing there, kissing him and accepting the words his said in forgiveness...the lyrics he pieced together and edited as an apology.

This was not a goodbye kiss nor a last kiss; this was the first kiss all over again.

"Make love to me."

The request was a soft murmur against Pierre's lips and the singer didn't think he heard correctly at first, figuring he might've just imagined the words being said. He was afraid of misinterpreting anything David was doing or saying, still feeling very hesitant and nervous...not wanting to fuck this, what he thought they had again, up.

"What?" He breathed back against the perfect lips still against his, continuing the kiss. David repeated himself and the words rang through Pierre's eardrums. "Are you sure?" Now it was the singer's turn to be trembling and the other's hands let go of his shirt to bring up to cup the sides of Pierre's face, fingers brushing over his cheeks.

"I want to feel how much you love me...please?" He asked quietly in a response, pulling his mouth away and letting his forehead and the tip of his nose touch the other's.

Pierre moaned out his approval quietly, nodding his head for an answer. Slipping his hands down from David's arms to his back, he let his fingertips trace down his spine and the bassist noticeably shivered under his touch. The two of them locked eyes, foreheads still pressed against one another as hazel burned into deep brown. The singer's heart immediately picked up tempo, beating hard in his chest, trying so hard not to rush into this. He wanted to take it slow, prove how much he loved David with his actions. His hands moved down to the small of David's back and further south, over the curve of the other's ass to rest at the backs of his thighs before finding strength to lift David up from there. Taking the hint, the bassist wrapped his legs around Pierre's waist, pressing tight as he hooked his feet together. Resuming the kiss, David pressed his lips a little harder against Pierre's as his hands slipped up into his hair to hold on, tongue snaking it's way inside of his mouth. Pierre kissed back, massaging his tongue with the bassist's as he clumsily made his way over to the bed, making sure not to trip over his feet or hit anything in the process.

Once they got there, David backed away from the kiss but not before dragging his tongue delicately over Pierre's bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth for a moment as he untangled his legs from around his waist. Carefully, Pierre dropped David onto the mattress, the bassist's long black hair disheveled and falling into his eyes, some strands sticking to his cheeks from the tears he had been crying and never wiped away. Lips red and slightly kiss swollen, David licked them and looked up with hopeful eyes as the singer pulled his own shirt up and over his head, tossing the unneeded material onto the floor. Climbing ontop of the bassist, Pierre put all of his weight on his knees as he leaned forward, inching up David's shirt to reveal the smooth, pale skin on his stomach and bent down to gain access to it. Leaving small nips and bites, the singer kissed up from David's torso as he hiked the shirt up more, lips arriving at his chest. Back arching off of the bed and up against Pierre's mouth, David let out a breathy moan, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut.

Not knowing where to put his hands, David fumbled with them for a minute before one found Pierre's shoulder and squeezed gently as the other pressed flat against the sheets of the bed for support. It didn't take long for Pierre's hand to find David's back again, lifting him up slightly off of the bed so he was able to take the shirt by the hem and completely remove it off of the bassist's body.

"Lie back down..." Pierre spoke quietly, his voice smooth and soft and David complied without hesitance, moving his body back slightly so that his head was resting against the pillows. The singer took a moment before leaning down to continue what he had started. Resuming the kiss from before the singer's hands reaching up to brush back the other's hair that was still stuck to David's face and his thumbs wiped away the tear stains that still occupied his cheeks. David melted under the touch. Tongues met lazily for a few minutes, kissing slowly as Pierre mapped out every inch of David's mouth with his tongue, dragging it along the roof of his mouth before breaking the kiss. Pressing a soft kiss to the underside of the bassist's jaw, Pierre looked up at him for a signal...a sign that this was still okay, to keep going. When he got one, the singer flashed a small smile, pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before moving his hands down again.

"If you want me to stop just tell me and I will, okay? You don't have to--"

"I want to," David cut him off, gasping slightly as fingertips danced across his thin stomach and frame down to the waistband of his jeans. "I wouldn't have said what I did if I wasn't sure..." A palm pressed flat against the growing bulge in his jeans, Pierre's eyes still watching David's and the bassist's already parted lips let out a small groan, hips jerking up involuntarily to add pressure.

In a blur of movement and sound, David's pants were undone and slipped off, one leg at a time followed closely by his underwear until he was lying there completely naked, cheeks flushed as Pierre sat back on his own legs and looked him up and down.

"Beautiful," he said softly, as if it were the first time he was seeing the sight, leaning down to press another quick kiss to the other's lips. Reaching down, Pierre loosely wrapped his hand around David's erection and slowly started a rhythm. The bassist rocked into his hand, mouth still slightly agape to remember to breathe as he watched Pierre who was busy watching him. The singer disappeared and slid his body down to go and press kisses to David's inner thighs, nibbling at the sensitive skin and the bassist's eyes rolled back before shutting them.

"Pierre...you...don't have to...do that..." he gasped out, whining slightly as he felt a teasing lick move up against his shaft. Biting his lip, David's eyes were shut tight, trembling against the white sheets of the bed. "I just...I just want you inside of me..." he admitted, swallowing hard and the movements of Pierre's hand stopped.

Swallowing down everything he was feeling at the moment to try and control himself, David opened his eyes to watch the singer stand up on his knees to start undoing his own jeans. Quickly, the bassist sat up, palms of his hands flat on the bed to lift himself before reaching up to swat the other's hands away. He wanted to do the deed of removing his pants for him. Once the jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, riding low on the other's hips, David hooked his fingers into the belt loops and tugged down, pulling his boxers with his as well. As they pooled to Pierre's knees, David decided he'd let the singer do the rest and remove them completely, taking the other's cock into his hands to stroke him into full hardness.

Pierre thought David's hands felt better than what heaven would probably feel like as they moved around his erection and it didn't take long for him to get completely hard. when David figured it was enough, he pressed a soft kiss to the tip and moved back against the pillows again, waiting for the singer to take control.

Settling between the bassist's legs, Pierre sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with what he thought would be enough saliva and brought them down to David's entrance to prep him. At first he rubbed slightly, teasingly at the ring of muscle with the point of his index finger, not putting enough pressure just yet until he saw it in the other's eyes to continue. Rolling his hips down to try to add pressure, David managed to squeak out a small please and that's when the singer slipped his finger in, twisting it all the way to the knuckle. Exhaling a deep breath that he was holding in, the bassist nodded to let Pierre know that it was okay to move it, move forward.

They had clearly done this before, countless times, but this time it just felt so much different. So much more innocent. David was honestly ready for Pierre even without getting prepped, he had done it that way a few times and it hurt really fucking bad, but it wasn't like he didn't know what to expect...like he didn't know the pain would eventually fade and get completely overriden by pleasure.

Pierre slid his finger in and out of David a few times, working his muscle and trying to make him relax and prepared before adding in a second one. David's breath hitched in his throat when the middle finger slipped inside of him, since it happened in a flash, but he quickly got used to it and let the singer slowly fuck him with his fingers. The third finger slipped in soon after and that was where the stretch and burn started to take place. David groaned in discomfort, shifting his hips as the other pushed his fingers in deep, curling them, trying to find his...

"Oh! Oh fuck..." David cried out in pleasure as Pierre's fingers found his prostate, the sound morphing away into content purrs and hums. Eyelashes fluttering, the bassist tried to keep his eyes open, but that proved to be a hard task to accomplish as Pierre rubbed the pads of his fingers against the sensitive spot within him. David felt like his spine was melting and he arched his back up off the bed, panting and begging for more. The singer got the hint that David was ready; muscles pulling him in deeper every time he tried to move them and soft encouraging pants of 'oh, oh, oh...' falling from the other's lips.

Removing his fingers, the bassist let out a whine of protest but quickly bit his lip to shut himself up as he opened his eyes to come face to face with Pierre spitting into his hand to lube his cock with it. He didn't even need to be asked to do so, when Pierre lined himself up against his entrance, David wrapped his legs around the singer's waist and drew him closer. The head of Pierre's cock slipped across the bassist's entrance, David moaning anxiously to feel the other inside of him.

Leaning forward and putting all his weight on his hands that were supporting himself on the mattress below them, Pierre rubbed his nose against David's and the bassist couldn't help but giggle...though the situation didn't really call for it, heart skipping in his chest.

"I love you."

Hopeful brown eyes looked down into the caramel eyes that were David's and the bassist smiled from the heart as he looked back up at him, speaking sincerely right back;

"I love you too, Pierre."

Taking his time, Pierre eased himself into the bassist and tried his best to hold back from shoving himself in quickly. David was hot and tight and perfect, just like he always was. The singer was using all of his willpower to not completely bury himself in right away because he just felt so fucking good being inside of him. He always did. Pierre crained his neck down, pressing kisses to the other's shoulder and collarbone to distract him from the pain that he knew he must've been feeling then. Finally in, buried to the hilt, the singer groaned against the slightly sweaty skin of David's neck, mumbling silent curses as he held himself together. Trying his best to get used to the feeling of Pierre fully inside of him, David tried not to squirm against the bedspread and bit his bottom lip, eyes shut tight. It would all go away soon.

Urging the singer to move his body, David rolled his hips in a downward motion to try and get his attention. He was still in pain, but he'd have to deal. It would feel better having Pierre move inside of him rather than just sitting there lodged deep inside of him. Muscles squeezing around his cock, Pierre cried out and got the memo to move...slow, steady and shallow thrusts before he picked up the pace.

It wasn't long before the drives inside of David became deeper, Pierre angling his thrusts the right way to come in contact with his prostate, making sure not to faulter and lose it midway. Hands holding onto the sheets below the both of them, the singer's fingers curled into the material for something to grab onto as he kept up his thrusts, careful not to go too fast because he knew the other wanted to keep things slow. Sucking in a shallow breath, Pierre finally moved his face away from David's neck, opening his eyes to look down at the sight below him. Feeling the other pull away, David's eyes...which were closed...now reopened to look up at him and return the gaze, eyes glazed over in the perfect mix of lust and love. Pierre continued to move his body, slow and delicate thrusts into David's prostate and the bassist's hands sought out the other's shoulders. He gripped them tightly for a moment, as if preparing himself before moving them down to the singer's chest and pushed him back a little to sit up.

Confused for a moment and scared that David wanted him to stop, Pierre opened his mouth to speak but was immediately shushed by David who pressed a long finger against his lips to keep him quiet. The bassist moved along with him, never breaking the contact the two of them had, Pierre still inside of him as he sat up as well, positioning himself ontop of the singer's lap. Rolling his hips forward, David situated himself better and Pierre let out a moan of approval at the friction it caused. His hands immediately fell to the bassist's lower back, holding him tightly to make sure he didn't fall...especially when he started a slow rhythm of moving his body up and down.

All of David's weight was on his knees which were pushed against the mattress, chest pressing against Pierre's as he kept himself close. Noses and lips brushed, breaths meeting each other's in a mix of pants and moans as the younger of the two slipped his hands up into Pierre's hair, combing back the long auburn strands before grasping to hold on tight. Pierre tried to kiss David, but it was sloppy and uncoordinated and didn't last for more than a few seconds, both of their minds on overdrive. The two of them were too wrapped up in their movements and trying to remember to breathe to be able to handle the simplicity of a kiss. Pierre was in deep, pressed so perfect against David's spot that the bassist's vision had gone white, mind blurry, head dizzy.

Hands slipping down further to grab David's ass, Pierre tried to meet with his movements by thrusting up into him every time he swileved his body down onto his erection. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, David's back arched as he moved his body down to counter each thrust of the other's hips once they got a better rhythm going. His head tilted back which gave Pierre the opportunity to shower his neck with kisses, licking down to his collarbone and biting there with a soft growl. The bassist cried out in pleasure and fell back against the bed, unable to sit up any longer and took Pierre back down with him. Body shaking, he felt pleasure start to rise, fill to the brim inside of his body...his insides and skin flushing red hot. David knew he was close to comming, but he didn't want to touch himself. It wouldn't have felt complete if Pierre wasn't the one doing everything to him, the sole reason for the bassist to hit orgasm.

"Pierre, touch me..." he begged, voice low and hoarse. His hands found the singer's back, blunt nails dragging up his skin as he tried to hold on with each thrust.

Able to support himself above David with just his knees and one hand against the mattress, Pierre did as the command said. His hand brushed down the bassist's trembling stomach and wrapped tightly around his cock, immediately finding a pace to match his thrusts inside of him. Rocking back and forth to find a medium between the two actions, David pushed himself down on Pierre before thrusting his hips up into his hand. Leaning forward, Pierre kissed at the bassist's ear, tongue tracing up the curve and nipping at the lobe as he panted heavily against it, trying to catch his breath. Shivers running down his spine, David saw sparks dance before his eyes and he let out a low, drawn out moan as he was sent over the edge.

David was now just a mass of movement and sound and pleasure, writhing against the bed as the muscles in his lower stomach spasmed, coming hard over his own stomach and Pierre's hand. The singer came a split second later, the bassist clenching around him as his whole body stiffened before relaxing back onto the bed. Groaning, David felt Pierre empty himself and fill him completely, the singer's body shaking as he tried to keep himself up and not fall onto the other. They were both weak, chests heaving as they searched for air to fill their lungs, Pierre resting his forehead against David's for a moment as he went to pull out.

"No, no, no..." David said quickly, breathlessly and the other haulted his actions when the bassist's legs tightened around his waist. Confused eyes sought out David's and when they met, the man smiled a small embarrassed smile. "...I want you to stay in me."

Pierre complied, not wanting to leave the comfort of being inside of the bassist anyway. Once the two of them slowed down their breathing, lips met lips for a slow sensual kiss, both smiling through it. The singer could practically feel how happy David was, like it radiated off of the bassist's body. It was something Pierre hadn't felt in a long time, foreign almost but familiar at the same time.

Carefully, Pierre moved his body so that he was lying next to David and spooning his body, still buried deep inside of him, perfect. His arm slid around his waist to hold him close, hand moving up to rest above the other's heart, feeling the dull but steady thump there. Intertwining their legs, David kept close to the singer and reached up to place one of his hands over the one at his heart, threading their fingers together.

It didn't take long for David to fall into a deep sleep, something that he hadn't been able to do in a long time, Pierre pressing soft kisses at his neck as he murmured confessions of his love against his skin.

----

A few weeks passed by, most of the stress hanging over the guys having to do with recording and finishing up the new record on the time schedule that they were on. The potential release date that they wanted was inching closer and closer so fast and was getting so near that they could practically taste it. Chuck kept on spazzing about keeping a neat schedule and making sure to complete things when they needed to be done and Pierre kept on yapping on and on that it was going to be the best record yet by them...to anyone that'd listen.

The night that they finished up the recording process of Holding On, something sort of caved inside of Pierre and an invisible weight of what felt like a thousand pounds lifted up off of David's shoulders. Jeff was the first to leave the studio to go home to his girlfriend and daughter and then Chuck, Sebastien and Patrick left soon after to get a few drinks at the nearest bar before heading home.

This left Pierre and David alone together in the studio. Though the bassist was still trying to fix a few strings on one of his old basses for the hell of it since he hadn't touched it in months (and it was getting completely out of tune) in the recording booth, and Pierre watching along as he sat in a seat in front of the glass and soundboard.

It was sort of funny how if this scene happened just only a few months ago, Pierre would've been out of the studio by now and at some bar getting smashed with Lachelle, while David stayed back to play a few things on guitar as he tried to wash out the misery of his life with music. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Though now, Pierre was waiting patiently for the bassist to finish what he was doing so they could go back to either one of their apartments and be alone, where it felt the best to be alone, and in the company of just one another. Pierre watched in adoration, eyes glued to the scene, completely transfixed where David Desrosiers, his boyfriend, sat and played a few notes on his old beat up blue bass guitar. He looked perfect. The way his legs were crossed, one over the other, the higher one's foot tapping a rhythm into the air as his fingers moved up and back down the guitar neck. David plucked at the strings, the singer faintly hearing the sound but clearly seeing the small smile that tugged at the corners of the other's mouth. Happy.

David was finally happy.

Thinking about it, Pierre realized that the bassist probably didn't know that he was being watched or waited for, since when David got into his music... he could be worse than Jeff and get totally wrapped up in it that nothing or no one else mattered. Biting his lip, the singer was reminded of all the reasons to why he fell for David when the other gave a flick of his head, his raven hair getting tossed out of his eyes, laughing slightly at himself (for some unknown reason) as he leaned forward to continue, Pierre now getting a full view of his face.

After a few more minutes, David got up from the chair he was sitting on and pulled the strap of the guitar over his head, signaling that he was finished with what he had tried to complete with his guitar. The singer, antsy to get out of the studio already, leaned forward to try and get his attention but the bassist was too into his own thoughts to notice him. Looking over the board in front of him, Pierre grinned and took a moment, fumbling around with his hands on the knobs and buttons splayed out in front of him like a maze, trying to find the right ones to touch; turn and press, trying to play back the recording they completed that night. Finally finding what he figured was the right one, Pierre turned up the sound as loud as he could before pressing the button to play the track.

The beginning chords to the song started, filling the empty room that was just occupied with silence with sound. Checking a few things on his bass after he finally set it in one of the stands, David's head jerked up to look over through the glass to try and make out the culprit who was messing with the track. Black hair fell into his eyes again and he reached up to brush it away with his long, nimble fingers and tuck the long strands behind his ear to meet glances with Pierre who was still sitting at the soundboard, leaning forward slightly with a grin across his lips. The bassist blushed the tiniest bit at the realization that he was, in fact, being watched and he smiled back as he stood up again, something that Pierre couldn't really quite place shining and flashing in the light of his caramel colored irises.

David left the room soon after, Pierre only in the company of the music still playing in the studio, tapping his fingers on his thigh to the beat before reaching over to turn one of the knobs, lowering the sound. The singer was never extremely fond of his own voice, but singing the words that David wrote fit together correctly, like puzzle pieces, that he could listen to himself sing the track all day and call it perfection. Leaning back in the chair he was sitting in, Pierre closed his eyes and hummed along with his own voice. The sound of a door opening and closing vaguely made its way to his ears, semi-drowned out by the music. He knew that David was in the room now though, practically feeling his presence and listening to the light shuffling of his feet as he walked across the floor behind him.

A few seconds later, Pierre felt a small breath waft over his cheek, smiling as he heard the bassist's familiar voice sing along softly into his ear with the solo he recorded just a few days ago in the song.

"Whenever I need you, wherever I run to; I know where to find you..."

Bending down so that he was at the same level, David slid his arms around the other's torso from behind to hold tightly, resting his chin on the singer's shoulder comfortably after pressing a light kiss to his temple and yeah, Pierre thought with a smile. Yeah, I could get used to this forever.

David was broken. He had become nothing but a bunch of pieces; like shattered glass.

2008-08-25T12:37:59Z

Title: Holding On (3/4)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: Pierre/David obviously
Rating: NC-17.
POV: Third
Summary: Pierre gets the inspiration to write the song Holding On.
Warnings: Boysex, cursing and hinting of violence.
Disclaimer: Don't own either of them or Simple Plan's other bandmembers and songs, please don't sue. I am a poor college student with no money.
Dedication: For Rissa and Matt.
Author Notes: The song Holding On on the new Simple Plan CD pretty much screams P/D to me, ever since the first time I heard it, for a LOT of reasons. This is my take on the reason to why it was written.
Previous Chapters: prologue / one / two

Lachelle arrived back to the hotel room that she and Pierre were sharing around eight o'clock, expecting to be greeted with open arms as she walked through the door. Instead she was met with an empty, dark room and she frowned before letting out a small sigh. "Obviously with one of the other guys..." she pointed out to no one but herself and shrugged before reaching over to flick on the lights of the room. The first thing she thought was he was probably out getting drunk and a wave of jealousy washed over her. If that were true, he should've asked her to come with him! Then again she had been out shopping all day with a few other people so maybe he didn't want to bother her.

Shaking her head to clear stupid thoughts away, Lachelle placed the two shopping bags she was carrying in her hand onto the floor and unzipped her jacket, shrugging out of it before lying it on the nearest chair. Removing the hairclip she was using to keep her hair up, she let her blonde hair fall back down over her shoulders and gave another small shake of her head to let the strands fall into place. She debated with herself for a moment if she should just get undressed and stay in bed, surf the tv channels until Pierre showed back up? It was better than nothing, but once she walked over to the bed to get her suitcase that was on the floor next to it, her attention fell to something else.

In the center of the bed was a small notebook that the blonde had never seen before and she let a moment pass by just staring at it, wondering if she should take a look inside of it. Instead, she bent over and flipped open her suitcase, rummaging through her belongings to pull out a pair of pajama pants and a matching top. Her eyes wandered back to the book and she bit down on her lip, standing upright again, clothes in hand.

It must be Pierre's, she said to herself. Why else would it be sitting in the middle of our hotel room bed if it wasn't? The more and more she thought about it, the more and more Lachelle figured that it had to be Pierre's and if it was, she had every right to look through it since they had promised each other that there were going to be no secrets between them.

Plopping down on the bed next to the book, she placed her clothes aside and reached for the unknown object to place on her lap.

The first thing that struck her funny was the fact that the writing was definitely not in Pierre's script. Eyebrows locked together in confusion, Lachelle decided to flip to the beginning of the book to read so it would make more sense...if it was possible. Maybe it was wrong of her to go through something that wasn't hers, but it wasn't Pierre's either and he was going through it too! She was now officially curious since the book (now assumed diary) was clearly not the singer's property and she couldn't help herself from becoming nosy.

Lachelle was fully aware of the saying curiosity killed the cat, she just didn't know until after that moment that it was a murder by a stabbing in the heart.

----

At four am sharp, there was a light knock on the hotel door of the room that David Desrosiers was crashing in for the night. They had just wrapped up their latest tour, the last tour that they'd have for awhile. It was time to head back into the studios and start fresh again...at least with a new cd. The band still hadn't reached home yet and they wouldn't for at least a few days, but it would be a lie to say that the bassist wasn't relieved that he finally had all of the tour stops under his belt. It was over. He could finally sleep as much as he wanted on occasion and relax. In Canada. At home. Of course they'd be hard at work, but it also meant that they'd take time off too. David's body was burning for sleep, aching to just rest and he knew he could look forward to that once they arrived back in Montreal.

Not to mention he could finally have some time alone with Pierre without constantly having to look behind his own back out of paranoia.

Lachelle had followed them around on this tour. Pierre had invited her, but it didn't really phase David much except for the fact that he wasn't getting laid nearly as much as he used to be when she wasn't around. She was the singer's girlfriend...for about two years now and that gave her every right to hop along on the tour with them. David couldn't stand her. Secretly, anyway. He figured she was just your typical average dumb blonde and it didn't help that Pierre and him were constantly fucking right under her nose and she didn't even notice. She must've been really fucking stupid. Pierre met her at a bar too! The girl had been working there and the singer showed up on occasion and it lead to them hooking up and getting together and just...how did that connect to a girl that was good enough for the singer anyway? Pierre didn't need some slutty blonde bartender who was apparently as dumb as rocks. She was just around for the tour because she asked and Pierre was being nice.

It was okay though, David knew he wasn't the only one and it had been like this ever since the day the two of them hooked up on the floor of that dressing room after the show. David got it. He was Pierre's salvation from real life, to have a good time. They were nothing serious...at least that's how it started out, anyway. It wasn't his fault, the bassist didn't mean to fall inlove with Pierre but honestly? He had been hooked from the first time he looked at him and he fucking knew it. David never really had much shame in who he was. He knew who he was, he fucked around with both guys and girls back in high school even though with the other boys it never lead to sex like it had with Pierre. He knew, though. David had known all along that he just didn't settle for only girls and it was hard for Pierre to get a grasp on this with himself.

He could wait forever though, at least that's how David felt about it.

The bassist was pretty sure that it was going to be them in the end. He felt every reason to be cocky about it, after all Pierre had been with him for three years now and he had been through girls like magazines. The singer needed him. David was pretty sure Pierre loved him, too. He had said it on occasion, mostly during sex, but at one point the singer would slip a kiss to David behind closed doors or in dark corners discreetly and whisper the words against his lips.

It had gotten really bad, them trying to hide the relationship, especially the year prior. The two of them ended up having sex or messed around in places where they could easily be found but Pierre couldn't fucking keep his hands off of David and when that happened, the bassist had no self control. They casted heated glances at each other during interviews and hands wandered on upper and inner thighs under tables during meet and greets...David wouldn't have been surprised if people thought they were fucking. He had read something awhile back with them being gay with each other and he had brought it up in a few interviews with an amused smile and laughed it off. It was true, every word of it and sooner or later people would find out, David was pretty sure.

After all, Pierre was going to end up with him anyway.

Even though the bassist had been exhausted (to put it simply), he had been waiting up in bed staring into the darkness of the hotel room until it hit four o'clock because he knew what was coming. He knew Pierre would show up and when he heard the faint knocking at the door, the bassist literally jumped out of bed and ran to go open it. Pierre walked in pretty quickly and David shut the door once he was inside of the hotel room and made sure to lock the door securely. Once he heard the familiar clicking of the lock falling into place, he spun around on his heels to turn to face the singer.

Pierre's eyes got used to the dark quickly and watched as the bassist turned around to face him. David's hazel eyes seemed to glow, even in the pitch black room and it made the singer's heart skip a beat and then take a plummet right down into his stomach. He knew the other didn't know what was coming.

Not even a simple "hi" was said before David's arms were wrapped around Pierre's neck and he was pulling him down for a kiss and the only thing the singer felt like he should do was kiss him back. The bassist's tongue probed the singer's mouth, causing him to part his lips almost unwillingly and they spent a moment just tasting each other and kissing hard until David needed to pull back slightly to breathe. They didn't have much time each night, since Pierre needed to be back in his hotel room where Lachelle was before she noticed that he was gone, so David had learned to deal and be quick with his actions. His hands found the hem of the other's shirt during the kiss and once it broke, he pulled it up and lifted the material off of Pierre's body, the singer bringing up his hands to help the swift movement.

"David--" Pierre tried to speak but the bassist pressed his lips against the other's again for another kiss, sucking the other's bottom lip into his mouth.

"Mhmm?" He hummed with the other's lip still in his mouth and bit down on it teasingly, the singer only letting out a soft whimper in response.

Maybe he shouldn't have waited until that night to do what he had set in mind. Maybe he should've waited till they were alone during the day or when they got back to Canada and had enough free time to do whatever the fuck they wanted to do. Maybe he should've thought out a better time that he could let the other down easier. But he didn't. He was chosing tonight.

David's cold but perfect fingers found Pierre's torso and his hands pressed flat against his skin, pushing the singer to make him walk backwards as he resumed the kiss he had started before. Reaching the bed, the backs of the singer's legs hit the side and he fell back, bouncing slightly on the mattress that he was now sitting on. It didn't take long for David to climb ontop of him, straddle his waist and reached up to delve his fingers into the short strands of the singer's hair. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and Pierre helplessly followed through with it, kissing back with just as much fevor to keep up with the bassist. That all ended though when he felt a hand drop from his hair and move over the erection he was trying so hard to keep down. David palmed at it, fingers cupping the hard on and squeezing slightly and it took all that was in Pierre to reach down and put his hand over the other's to halt his actions.

"David..." he tried again, this time breaking off the kiss himself and gulped down some much needed air for his lungs. "David, we need to talk."

For a moment or so, David pulled away and looked at the other with furrowed eyebrows in question but then shrugged to himself when he was met with nothing from the other and leaned forward to press kisses down the other's jawline, lips burning slightly from the stubble. Pierre gasped and shook under the other's kisses, groaning softly as David's mouth found the sensitive patch of skin right beneath his ear and attached his lips there, sucking slightly, careful not to make a mark.

"Do we even have time to talk?" He asked, speaking against Pierre's warm skin, words half teasing but also half serious because if the singer really did need to talk to him then he probably should.

"No," Pierre gasped out and brought his hands to the other's shoulders to try and get him to back off slightly. "But we have to."

David blinked almost stupidly as he was pushed back and his eyes met the other pair, but he didn't argue and instead sat back slightly on the singer's legs. "Okay..."

Looking into the bassist's eyes, Pierre swallowed hard and fought the urge to look away. Fuck. This was going to be so much harder than he had imagined. Why though? They were nothing but sex and fun so why was it tearing up the singer inside to do what he was about to do? He loved Lachelle. He wanted to be with Lachelle. David was just a good time on the side, like he needed. Pierre didn't need it anymore, he didn't need him.

"Pierre, you can talk any day now really..."

There wasn't a hint of worry in David's voice and that's what was probably the thing that tore Pierre up inside the most. David was not expecting this. Pierre was so set on the other to expect this, to not think that they were going to last forever...but little by little recently he had come to realize that the bassist was falling for him. He had noticed things that used to be strictly sexual, like hidden glances or private touches, had become more intimate and the singer could literally see the love in the other's eyes whenever their gazes met. It scared the shit out of him. That wasn't supposed to happen and they promised each other that.

"Pierre...?"

"I'm engaged to Lachelle..." Pierre finally found words to speak, letting them spill from his lips as the eye contact with the other did not faulter. He was rewarded with a blank look and a few random blinks, the two of them just looking at each other in silence for a moment.

"Yeah, so?" David knew this already and it didn't phase him. Honestly, he didn't really expect it to happen but the night of the engagement, the two of them had such mindblowingly hot sex that the bassist honestly could not take it seriously. How could he? Pierre wanted to fuck him after he proposed to someone else! "I know this already Pierre, do we really need to talk about it?"

"We can't do this anymore."

"Excuse me?!" Taken aback, the bassist leaned away from the other slightly, eyebrows shooting up into his forehead in surprise. His jaw dropped slightly and he gaped for a moment before he finally closed it and shook his head, eyebrows knitting together. "No, I don't think I heard you correctly..."

"You heard me crystal clear..." Pierre swallowed a lump in his throat and looked away, gaining the courage to actually speak now that he wasn't looking at David. Did that make him a coward? Probably. But right now it seemed like the easiest way to do this. "I'm ending things between us...right now."

It was like Pierre had gotten ahold of a knife and repetitively stabbed David in the gut and then went to his heart to repeat the action. He couldn't believe this. It wasn't happening...it couldn't be happening.

"Listen, quit joking Pierre..."

David's voice had switched off to weak, trembling and his throat was getting tighter as each second went by.

"I'm not joking, David. We have to end this."

He felt numb. The bassist's whole body just decided to stop working and he could feel his ears start to ring as his throat closed up. He opened his mouth to swallow down some air, but not enough of it was getting to his lungs. Him and Pierre had been making out just a few minutes ago like nothing was wrong...David didn't see this coming. David didn't even know what to do, his whole body was in such shock that he couldn't even bring himself to cry even though he was pretty sure that would end up happening before the day was over.

"No..." he whispered, shaking his head and letting jet black hair fall into his eyes. "No, Pierre...you love me..."

"This wasn't supposed to be about love David, it wasn't supposed to lead into it, you knew that." Pierre's voice was anything but strong and he felt like complete shit at that very moment, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Well I'm sorry for falling for you?!" David's voice had gone from shaking and almost non-existant to a yell, hands shaking and he balled them into fits as he tried to control himself. He wasn't sorry. It wasn't even supposed to be an apology, he spoke as if claiming that it wasn't his fault. It wasn't. It wasn't David's fault that Pierre was fucking perfect and everything that he ever wanted and more. The singer still wasn't looking in his direction at all and it was ripping David apart, so the bassist lifted his hand up to take Pierre's chin into his hand to turn his face to look at him. "Look at me Pierre." David's voice had gone down a few notches again, but the desperation in it was still clearly evident. "You don't want to do this..."

Pierre swallowed hard as his dark brown eyes met the hazel ones yet again. "If I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't be doing it right now."

"No. No, no, no...you love me..."

"No David, I don't love you."

Something in Pierre's heart tore and something within David snapped. The bassist started to laugh. At first it was small giggles that gradually turned into hysterical laughs, but they were bitter and angry. To stop himself, he sucked his lip ring into his mouth and bit down on his bottom lip, hands finding the other's shoulders to give him a shove.

"You're a fucking idiot, you don't even know what love is, Pierre," he spat out. Now that he had more control over his body thanks to the anger building up inside of him, David gave the singer another shove before he brought his feet back to the ground and backed off of him. "And when you do find love, you cower away from it like a scared puppy dog."

Through all of this, Pierre didn't even know how to act. When David started to laugh hysterically, that was the clear cut sign that the singer should get out of the room pretty much as soon as possible. The other got up off of his lap finally and started to speak, voice high in volume and Pierre just wanted to leave. Now. This was it, they were done. He didn't need David preaching to him about what love is or isn't and what he was doing was the wrong this. No, Pierre was making the right decision and going with Lachelle. This...what we had with David was not healthy and it wouldn't lead into anything good anyway.

"I'm leaving." That's all Pierre had to say back to him and he got up off of the bed and started walking towards the door.

"So you're just gonna pussy out and leave without saying anything else?!" David screamed, heart hammering against his ribcage and he inhaled a shaky breath through his nose. The words stopped Pierre in his tracks and he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the bassist who was standing in the middle of the room, who's body was shaking from a mix of anger and heartbreak.

"Yeah," Pierre said softly. "Yeah, I am." And with that, he walked to the door and exited the room, leaving David still standing there in a state of shock, expecting him to come back.

It took three days for David to finally cry.

Pierre never walked back into the room.

----

For a few hours, David had wandered around the hotel sort of aimlessly, not really sure where to go...but especially not back around where their rooms were. He had walked himself over to the complete opposite side of the building, top floor and for some reason he felt safe. Safe in a way from Pierre (or anyone else for that matter) finding him. The hotel wasn't exactly a pricey one and the rooms were pretty tacky looking, but the pool was on the top floor, sort of on the roof and the bassist found that to be a little odd. He stepped outside and into the area once he slid the cardkey he owned in the door and was met with a decent breeze and no one in sight. Removing his shoes and socks before cuffing his jeans, he sat down at the edge of the pool and stuck his feet in, sighing as they dunked into the warm water.

He didn't know what to do. David sat at that pool for hours with his head in his hands, doing his best to calm himself down but it wasn't happening. Pierre had kissed him...again. The singer wanted them to be together but he was still fucking lying to Lachelle and the girl had no idea. It wasn't that David couldn't do that to her, he let it happen for two years, but he couldn't do it to himself.

"It's not fucking fair!" David screamed out into the emptiness, into the wind and he kicked in his anger, sending ripples across the surface of the water. "It's not...fair..." he whimpered, hanging his head in his hands again.

More time passed and when David lifted his head and looked out to the horizon with puffy red eyes from tears, he could see the deep purple and dark pink from the sun already having set.

"Fuck..." he groaned, realizing how late it actually was and got up, gathering up his stuff before exiting the pool area to go back to his hotel room.

----

Lachelle left her hotel room in a blur of tears and anger, almost tripping over her own feet as she ran haphazardly down the hallway in an attempt to find out where Pierre was. Turning the corner, clearly not paying attention to where she was going, she bumped right into someone, causing her to stumble back but not completely fall down, the grip to David's diary strong in her hands.

As David turned the corner, he was definitely not expecting to bump into anyone, especially not Lachelle, but he did and he was ready to shout obscenities to this person to watch where the fuck they were going next time. He wasn't in the mood for any Goddamn bullshit. Lifting his eyes to the culprit though, he was met with the light eyes of the blonde and his heart went into his stomach. Perfect. The one person he would rather not see for the rest of his life was standing right there infront of him. Pierre was probably not too far behind.

"Sorry Lachelle, are you okay?" He sort of half assed the question and when he didn't get a reply back except for a hollow stare, he just went and started walking in the direction he was going, leaving her standing there still in shock. Gathering herself and her fear, Lachelle turned her body around to look at the man walking away from her, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again as she opened her mouth to speak.

"I know about you and Pierre."

The sound of her voice was soft and frail, throat hoarse, but David heard her. He heard her crystal clear.

Stopping in his tracks, David just stood there, back turned away from the other and he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Fuck. He didn't know what to do. What was he going to say? "I'm sorry"? That didn't even cut half of it. Body starting to shake, the bassist held his breath for a moment and tried to ignore the way his heart pounded so hard that he could hear it in his eardrums. How did she even find out? Had she known for awhile but decided to keep her mouth closed about it? No, that didn't make any sense. Managing to form words on his tongue, he opened his mouth to speak.

"About last night? Or about three years ago?"

Lachelle didn't know what part of that question hurt her the most, cut her open and stung her heart. The journal didn't have dates in them. She had no idea when David wrote all of the entries, it didn't even cross her mind that they all could've been spread out in time...she just figured they were all recent. Three years ago? Is this really how long everything's been going on between them? Three years?! Lachelle started dating Pierre three years ago so he was just cheating on her the entire time? Stunned into silence, Lachelle didn't know what to say and David's back was still facing her and as every second went by, she could feel anger rising, boiling up in her veins and she clenched her hands, biting on her tongue from saying the wrong thing. The bassist was waiting for something, any kind of response, but got nothing and every second that crept by felt like an hour.

"Turn around and look at me, David Desrosiers."

Spitting out the words at him, David cringed when the blonde used his full name as she spoke, but gathered himself together enough to slowly turn around, finding movement in his legs. The first thing he noticed was that the other hadn't moved at all, she was still a good few feet away from him. Looking down, a lump made home in his throat when he spotted a familiar book in one of her hands. His diary. How the fuck did she get that?! Did she go through his personal belongings? No, she couldn't have. He just wrote in that diary today in his hotel room and he was the only person with a key...

"Three years?" She spoke again, voice hesitant, unbelieving. "This has been going on for three years?"

David swallowed. "Two," he corrected, trying his best to look in her eyes but all he could see was himself in them, how badly she hurt was how badly he was hurting himself. It was hard not to look away.

"Two?! But you just said three before..." she was flabbergasted, now he was going to lie to her? Lachelle wasn't even sure how she was able to stay so calm, her body was shaking so hard that she felt like she belonged in an earthquake.

"Lachelle...how did you get my diary?"

He couldn't prolong the question any further and he felt like he was being torn at the seems, quickly unraveling and he could feel his whole life start to completely fall apart. Lachelle had the thread and she was yanking, she was pulling him apart slowly. Those thoughts, those entries were supposed to be private and for his eyes only. No one was supposed to see them, especially not her. This is what it feels like to die slowly, he thought to himself. Everything was over. Pierre and him were never even together to begin with and now this just ruined everything. She was going to find out and it was all done for...Pierre and Lachelle and the entire band. It was the fucking end of it all.

"Answer my question," she replied with her own question in a hushed but stern tone.

Taking a few steps forward to semi close the large gap that was between the two of them, David held out his hand.

"Just...give me back my diary, and we'll talk about all of this."

"I don't want to talk about this with...with you!" She screeched out, taking a few rushed steps back and holding the diary far out of his reach. David was crazy, how could he fucking expect her to want to talk things out?! He was sleeping with her fucking boyfriend, fiance for crying out loud! She was going to marry Pierre and he was messing around with the bassist behind her back. David was the last person she wanted to get all of the information from. She just wanted to know how long and he wasn't answering her Goddamn question.

David cringed when she started to yell, praying that she would keep her voice down, go back to the way they were talking before. He knew she was angry...no, beyond angry...and upset, but everyone else staying at the hotel could probably hear her. It was bad enough that she knew everything now, but the rest of the guests could be spared of David's personal life with Pierre.

"Please, Lachelle, just--"

"No! How long have you two been fucking each other?!"

Not being able to take it anymore, David couldn't control himself and fuck it if she was a girl, he still took a few rushed steps at her before she knew what was happening and grabbed her arm tightly. He immediately dragged her over to his hotel room and she pulled and kicked and screamed and made a scene as he slid the cardkey into the door, opened it and pulled her inside before slamming the door shut.

"Just because you think you know about shit that went down between me and Pierre doesn't mean you have to announce it to all of the guests of the fucking hotel, Lachelle!" He finally lost his temper and screamed back, causing the blonde to jump in surprise. She was still breathing hard from the struggle to get away from him and pulled her arm out of his grip when he wasn't holding it tightly anymore. Chucking the diary back into its owner's hands, Lachelle caught her breath and narrowed her eyes.

"Take your fucking diary back. This conversation? Is done."

She moved to walk back to the door, but David went to grab her arm again, not letting her go.

"No, Lachelle, we have to talk about this."

Turn back to look at him, her blonde hair whipped around and tears started to fill her eyes. She couldn't scream anymore, she hurt too bad.

"Why?" Was all she could ask. "Why did he do this to me, David?"

He couldn't stay mad at her, he couldn't even get mad at her to begin with. They were both on the same boat, playing for the same team. David was inlove with Pierre and he broke his heart and the same thing went with Lachelle. If there was one person in the entire universe David got at that very moment; it was Lachelle. The tears in her eyes made his heart drop, water starting in his own, but he blinked them back.

"He didn't want to hurt you. It's why he left me for you because he couldn't play two sides anymore. So in a fucked up selfish kind of way, he was trying not to hurt you, so he hurt me instead."

Lachelle blinked stupidly, a few stray tears letting loose and cascading down her cheek.

"Why he left you? He was with me, not with you. He was with me first, David."

"No...no he wasn't," David said with a shake of his head and Lachelle looked at him like he grew two more. "He was with me for about four years."

"Explain..." She said slowly, dropping her arms to her sides, deciding not to go anywhere until the other gave her the full rundown.

This time taking her hand gently, David guided the other further into the hotel room to go and sit down on the two chairs that occupied the area near the window, a small table between them. Placing the diary on the center of the table, the bassist watched as Lachelle took a seat in her own chair and bit his lip before breaking the silence and asking the first question. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

----

Leaving Chuck's room completely satisfied, Pierre made his way back to his own hotel room, pausing for a moment and considering going to see David first. The paper that he wrote David's notes, now lyrics, down on was folded up and occupying his left hand. David really should find out as soon as possible about what Pierre had done with his journal, how he made the lyrics, because hearing and seeing it through a band meeting the next day wasn't exactly going to be the best way for him to find out. Chuck was amazed, to put it simply. He loved the concept of the song and kept on asking Pierre where he got inspiration from it and all the singer could do was reply with a shrug and a 'I don't know, it just came to me'. It felt awkward taking the credit, but he wasn't so sure if David would want to take the credit himself. The bassist was hard to read when it came to that. He had said countless times that he never felt confident in his writing ability.

Deciding that it was best to check up on Lachelle first before going to see David, Pierre slipped the cardkey he posessed into the door and the small dots of light under the handle flashed from red to green and he turned the knob, walking in.

When did things become so complicated? He knew he wanted David. He had wanted David back so bad during the past months that had gone by and that's why last night happened, why that afternoon happened. He wasn't being cocky, but Pierre knew that David wanted him just as much. The singer always knew that. There was never a doubt in his mind about it, and the diary he found only emphisized that face. The only thing that stood in the way of then getting back together was Lachelle.

Pierre had to chose. He knew he had to chose and he knew what he wanted, he knew he wanted David but the bassist had to understand that he needed time to let the other down slowly. He couldn't just break up with Lachelle in the snap of a finger, she would ask questions and get all nosy and Pierre didn't know what he'd do if she found out about him and David. No matter what, that still had to be private. Pierre couldn't imagine Lachelle finding out about them, but imagining the world finding out about him just made his throat close.

The singer walked into a lit up hotel room, meaning that Lachelle was definitely back from...wherever it was that she had been. One of the first things Pierre noticed though, was that the bags from her (obvious) shopping were still at the door in bags, not put away just yet. He knew Lachelle very well by now and knew that the blonde was a neat freak and put things away almost immediately after she bought them, especially if it was during touring and they were in a bus or hotel room. She didn't want to lose anything and she feared it would happen if she didn't pack it away immediately.

"Lachelle?" He called out, but not too loud, setting his cardkey on the table next to the door. No response. It was obvious that she was back, her cardkey was there...maybe she was sleeping.

Making sure to keep as quiet as he could, Pierre took a few steps into the room to double check on her conciousness. If she was alseep then maybe it would be easier to go see David for a few minutes and explain everything. He didn't find her asleep though. No, he found her sitting on the hotel bed they shared, David's diary open and sitting on her lap.

Fuck.

How could he have been so dumb?! He left the diary wide open and on the bed when he went to go see Chuck and it totally did not register in his mind until that very second. Now it was too late. The blonde looked up from the book and they locked eyes, Pierre's body freezing in paranoia.

"I can explain. It's not--"

"What it looks like?" She finished the sentence for him, slamming the diary shut between her hands. "Save the speech for someone who'll actually believe it, Pierre." Getting up off the bed, she flipped through the pages once more right infront of his face, opening up to a certain page and translating the French into English as she spoke outloud. "Dear Pierre," the singer's blood ran cold as Lachelle read one of David's diary entries outloud, body shaking and mind spinning as she gave a voice to the bassist's deepest darkest secrets about the singer. "No matter how many times I tell myself, how much I try to convince myself that I don't love you as much as I thought I did or at all, I can't. You're like a bad habit. I need you, I crave you every day, every second of my life and I feel like I'm nothing without you. I feel like ever since the day you ended things I've been slowly dying inside. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to take this. I see you with her; holding her hand and kissing her like you did with me and it destroys me. I'm supposed to be yours. It wasn't supposed to end this way, it was supposed to be a happy ending for the both of us and now you're the only one riding off into the sunset while everything in my life fades to black. I want to hate you, but I can't. How is this possible? You've killed me and yet I cannot stop loving you."

"That's private..." Pierre whispered, his voice not being able to find his throat as he pushed out the words.

Lachelle shut the book and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well then next time you don't want someone's private thoughts read outloud, don't steal their diaries from them and leave it open for someone else to read. Especially if that someone else is someone you really don't want finding out about their personal business."

Even though Pierre was freaking out, he had to wonder how Lachelle was so calm. She wasn't screaming, she wasn't fighting with him...at least not yet, anyway. The singer wasn't going to hold his breath. Noticing the note in Pierre's hands, Lachelle made a grab for it, taking the piece of paper from him and opening it up to read. He didn't even struggle and he almost yelled at her to stop, but he stopped himself, knowing that he was already walking around eggshells at this point and didn't want to cause more of a mess.

Reading the lyrics on the beat up piece of paper, Lachelle couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

"You made it a song...you made David's personal feelings about you into a song? God, you tell me not to read his personal shit outloud or even at all and here you are writing a song about it using his diary entries and he doesn't even fucking know about it! You're so sick, Pierre! So sick..."

"I wrote it for him..." Pierre tried to speak, but his voice was weak and he felt about two inches tall...perhaps even shorter than that.

"As what? A way of getting him back? You've already played enough with his emotions already, don't you think it's time that you stop?"

Pierre went numb. 'Played enough with his emotions already'? She was talking like she's figured out everything that's happened between him and David over the last six years.

"How much do you know?" He whispered.

"Enough. I know enough."

The talk Lachelle had with David wasn't anything that she expected it to be. The bassist had started from the beginning, explained how the two of them got together...how it wasn't anything serious at first, just random hook ups when the two of them got lonely or horny or both. He talked about how they had girlfriends come and go during it and didn't think much of their personal relationship, just some fun on the side that no one else had to know about. David explained that as time went by his feelings grew and what they had sparked into something more, how he thought it was love and what they said to each other in private, whispered promises and secrets that no one else knew. He explained that when she came into the picture, he didn't think anything of it because he was with Ali himself and he knew that when it came to relationships, the only person Pierre stayed strong with was him. Pierre convinced David that they would eventually be together and then in the end ripped the dream apart along with his heart.

After everything was let out, Lachelle felt more sorry for David then she felt for herself.

"So you spoke to him?" Little by little the singer was regaining his voice, but he still kept it low so the other didn't feel the need to yell at him.

"For awhile yes," she admitted. Folding the piece of paper back into quarters, she held the lyrics in her hand for a moment as she tried to find the right words to say. "Why did you do it?"

Pierre was pretty much dreading that question and he saw it coming from a mile away.

"I...don't know," he admitted, looking her dead in the eye and forcing himself not to turn away. He oWed her that much, so speak to her Without shying aWay. He could see the hurt and the pain reflecting back at him, but he expected that. He was in the middle of breaking her heart. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Pierre was supposed to let her down easy back when they were home in Canada like he had planned in his head since he was walking back to the hotel room. All of this wasn't supposed to happen in such a flash. Pierre wanted to do this when he was ready and planned out what he was going to say so he didn't look like an idiot. Now he was just going to stumble over his own words. "I was selfish, Lachelle. I should've never lied to you and stayed with David when I was with you...but I couldn't help myself. I started something that I couldn't stop, that I didn't want to stop and to convince myself that there was nothing romantic between me and him I said to myself all of the time that I just liked the sex...that everything with you was so much more..."

Lachelle was scared that Pierre was going to end up saying things that, a part of her not wanting to hear it or even believe it because she was scared that he'd just feed her lies and bullshit and her heart wouldn't be able to take it. She didn't want to be played, especially during the break up. A break up was supposed to be when the two people were honest and flat out with each other...and this was a break up.

"Go on..." she replied, throat tightening.

"I love you, Lachelle," Pierre promised, reaching out hesitantly to touch her arm, reassure her that he wasn't just spitting out lies, he meant it. "I love you so much and it's why I chose you over David a year ago. I didn't want to continue the lies, they were eating me up inside and I love you as much as I love David..." Almost. He didn't want to say that outloud, so he bit his tongue instead. Sometimes being completely honest wasn't a good thing to do. "But being with you was easier, so I took that route instead of the harder one with him." His mouth was dry and he swallowed. "I've never been the one to take the easy way out of things but now I really know that sometimes the things that are the most difficult are the things you should go for because it's the right thing to do in the end, it's worth it."

"So you're saying being with him is worth it more than being with me?" The words hurt Lachelle, but she was staying strong, refusing to cry infront of him.

"Yes and no. It's worth it because I love him so much, but it's not because I love you too and I don't want to lose you..."

Lachelle smiled, almost bittersweetly and shook her head at him. "There you go, being selfish again." A sigh left Pierre's lips, but she was right, he was being selfish. He couldn't have both of them at once, he had learned this the hard way and more than once. "Look at me Pierre," she said, the singer looking up from the carpet where his eyes dropped after she made the selfish comment. Taking his hand, she placed the paper back back to him and set the diary down on the table next to them. "I don't compare to David," she started and Pierre started to shake his head, to argue with her, mainly to make Lachelle feel better about the whole situation, but she was having none of that. "No, you listen to me. I know I don't. You and him have been best friends since the day I met you. Now I know even more than that and it...it makes sense. You both make sense. God, it hurts so much that you don't want to be with me because I love you so much, but it wouldn't have been right. It would never be right even if you wanted to pick me over him because of everything I found out. But you guys...you guys just work. It clicks. I see the way he looks at you and the way his eyes light up when people mention you around him..." Tears formed in her eyes, but she blinked them away, forcing a small smile on her face. "It's him you should be with, not me. So Pierre, I'm going to end this now and make it that simple, okay?"

Taking off the ring that had never left her finger for a year and a half now, Lachelle took Pierre's free hand and placed the piece of jewelry in the palm of it, curling his fingers for him to make a fist around it to keep safe.

"I'm going to go down to the main desk and ask them to call me a cab to take me to the airport so that I can leave for home tonight and be out of your way." She let out a sad sigh and watched as the other stuffed the ring and the lyrics back into the pockets of his jeans. "I love you, Pierre." She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, lips lingering there for a moment before she pulled away to grab her cardkey and walk to the door.

Pierre's mind was swimming with questions. How was this so easy to do? Was she the one to actually break up with him? He couldn't believe it. He listened to the other's footsteps as she made her way to the door and a sinking thought entered his mind.

"Lachelle!" Pierre's voice was suddenly broken down and desperate, frantic as he turned to watch the blonde reach for the handle of the door. She stopped in her tracks. Dropping her hand on the knob, she didn't turn it but instead looked back at the singer expectantly. She didn't say a word and waited for the other to speak, lips pursed as eyes met eyes.

"No one...no one can know..."

Pierre's voice cracked as he spoke, unable to swallow all of his emotions down. This could be the end for everything, the end of him and Lachelle and the end of the band. If anyone found out about Pierre and David being together, it could destroy all of them. This wasn't Pierre being selfish this time, this was Pierre thinking about the entire band and their future. It looked so promising now, especially with the new CD they were working on. It was going to be their best, they all knew that. It had the potential of being phenominal and if it was let out to the public that Pierre and David were gay and in a relationship at the same time the new album was released...it could fuck everything up. Pierre used to be able to trust Lachelle with his life, tell him secrets that he didn't want anyone else to know, but this secret was bigger and deeper than anything he had ever let out to her. It threatened the life of Simple Plan.

For a few moments she was silent. Hand slipping from the door handle, she took a few hesitant steps toward the singer and when they were face to face, she cupped his in her hands warmly.

"Pierre, you know you can trust me with anything."

At this point, Pierre had been looking at the carpet, clearly expecting the worst from the girl...but then his face was taken into her soft hands gently and he looked up at her. He was rewarded with a small smile and he gave her a tiny one in return, the corners of his lips upturned just barely. Reaching up, he rested his own hands at her wrists and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. Pierre loved her, he really did and if David wasn't someone who came into his life at all forever ago and it was just her, then maybe they would've been able to work out. He was sure she understood that now too.

"I'm sor--"

Lachelle simply cut him off with a shake of her head and pressed one of her perfectly manicured fingers against his lips to keep him quiet.

"Don't apologize," she said quietly, letting out a sigh that broke off a piece of Pierre's heart. "I understand."

"I'm just scared," he admitted.

"Of you and David?"

"No...of what will happen if...when people find out about us."

Another blanket of silence covered the two of them and Pierre inhaled deeply, closing his eyes to keep himself calm. He was doing the best he could, he really was, but it was hard not to freak out about the possability of losing everything.

"I'll stick around."

Not fully understanding, Pierre's eyes shot back open and he pulled back slightly in shock, eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. "Uhhh...what?"

"Only for as long as you need me to," Lachelle said, the first laugh in what felt like days leaving her mouth at how lost the singer seemed to be. "But not all of the time." Pierre, still obviously confused, opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly spoke over him, trying to elaborate what she meant. "I can be your cover. I can stay around until you're ready to tell everyone about you and David..." Pierre's eyes widened with realization and a genuine smile started to form on his lips.

"Merci...thank you so much..."

"But you have to promise me something," she cut him off again.

"Anything."

"You can't go about it this way forever, okay? It'll only end up hurting David more. If you explain to him why you're so scared, why you still need time to take things slow but that you honestly want to be with him, that you love him, I'm sure he'll understand. But it can't last forever. I'm not going to be around as your cover forever, Pierre. I have my own life."

Nodding with understanding, Pierre was finally left to speak. "I know...and I really appreciate it Lachelle and I promise that when the time comes I'll do what's right." Cocking her head to the side, the blonde smiled, dropping her hands to his shoulders and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Right now I think you better do what's right with David and go see him."

"Dear Pierre, Biggest confession of my life: I've loved you forever."

2008-07-08T21:22:28Z

Title: Holding On (2/4)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: Pierre/David obviously
Rating: NC-17.
POV: Third
Summary: Pierre gets the inspiration to write the song Holding On.
Warnings: Boysex, cursing and hinting of violence.
Disclaimer: Don't own either of them or Simple Plan's other bandmembers and songs, please don't sue. I am a poor college student with no money.
Dedication: For Rissa and Matt.
Author Notes: The song Holding On on the new Simple Plan CD pretty much screams P/D to me, ever since the first time I heard it, for a LOT of reasons. This is my take on the reason to why it was written. This is the sequal to The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows, a fic I posted back I think in...February? They're two seperate fics, but this is a continuation of that story. I got a bunch of requests to continue it, so here it is! I hope none of you are disappointed.
*Sorry this chapter took longer than I expected! It took me forever to piece things together and actually make sense. Hopefully I'll get more reviews this time yes? ;)
Previous Chapters: prologue / one

Pierre figured he should at least make an attempt at small talk when he entered the bassist's hotel room, closing the door behind him as the other walked over to space the bed occupied. His vocal chords sort of froze though at the scene, images of the night prior flashing back into his mind. Blinking, Pierre shook his head and let the door shut with a click to signify that it was completely closed. The other seemed to be preoccupied with cleaning up...something. David moved around the area quickly, fixing up the bed and moving one of the pillows before ploppling himself down on the mattress. Pierre found this funny, the bassist didn't really have the need to clean up for him to arrive.

Figuring that it was time to at least try to make himself at home, Pierre walked over to the bed, taking a seat next to David. He made sure there was enough space between them so it wasn't too awkward, but apparently it wasn't enough and David scootched his body further away. The singer sighed.

"So...hi." Pierre looked at the other and cheesed slightly, giving him a smile, but all he recieved back was a cold glare and his attention moved over to his hands on his lap.

"What did you come in to talk to me about, Pierre."

It wasn't even spoken as a question. The tone in David's voice sounded like he had given up on everything, including having emotions in the way he spoke. His voice was monotone...dead. The words sounded chilling to the singer and he could feel one creeping up his spine at the noise.

"I...what happened last night David, it was--"

"A mistake?" David interrupted him before he could continue and he was looking at Pierre now, eyes semi hidden from the black hat he was wearing but the singer could still see the hurt in them. "Listen, if that's all you came to tell me then you really should leave--"

"No," this time it was Pierre's turn to cut the bassist off, practically yelling the word and he made David jump slightly in surprise, but he continued to speak now that he got the chance to. "That's not what I came here to say. God, David, don't put words in my mouth okay? Do you think it was a mistake? Is that why you're trying to put the words in my mouth? Because if that's what you think it was, then by all means let me know."

"We're dead Pierre," David snapped back at him, using his words as weapons against the older man sitting next to him. "There's nothing left of us anymore..." the volume of his voice decreased, but his words were still sharp as they left his lips. "You told me this a year ago...that we were nothing but sex and fun...so how am I supposed to take a year of nothing from you and then last night and not think of it as a mistake?!"

It was like recieving punch after punch into his gut and Pierre was going down without a fight. He didn't want to fight. David was ready for one this time around though, getting ready to at least go down swinging if Pierre was out to puncture his heart again. His heart just started to beat fully again, how could all of this happen?! This was something that the singer should've expected, how could he think that David would sit and politely listen to what he had to say without getting defensive? If Pierre was in his position he probably wouldn't even have let himself into the hotel room. David had enough guts to do that, but he was ready and armed to keep his heart from getting into the singer's hands incase he squeezed the life out of it again.

"I didn't want us to die..." Pierre replied quietly, voice barely over a whisper as he tried to get himself to speak. His throat was tight and not enough air was getting to his lungs, but he needed to talk.

"Come again?"

"I was stupid..." he breathed out, swallowing hard before trying to speak again, voice still unsteady but at least he was getting volume back. "No, to say I was stupid would be an understatement. I was an asshole. I was scared to be with you because I didn't know what would happen...with us, with the band, with everything. I was so scared that I'd end up fucking up and you'd leave me, so I thought if I stopped everything before it got too far...the damage wouldn't be hard to fix." Eyes glazed over with tears and he quickly blinked them away, refusing to cry infront of the other, especially since David's eyes were so blank and cold. Pierre had gotten used to that look way too much the past couple of months. "It...it was too late though...it did get too far..." he was tripping over his words now, swallowing again at a lump that had made home in the base of his throat.

"Pierre...what are you saying..."

The bassist's voice which had left off as harsh was now trembling, Pierre sensing the panic rising in the other.

"I...I'm saying..." Pierre licked at his dry lips and took a deep breath through his nose, looking directly into David's eyes as he spoke the next seven words. "I'm still in love with you, David."

David could feel his body go weak and he didn't know if he wanted to smile at the words, or cry, or throw something against the wall. He was fighting internally with himself, unsure if he should believe what he said or not.

"How am I supposed to believe a word you said..." David whispered, weapons and defence down, heart ready to be taken and broken by Pierre's hands.

"By what you feel with this."

And then Pierre's lips were pressed against David's in a kiss.

The bassist would be lying if he said he didn't see that coming, but he was done fighting over a battle he knew he wasn't going to end up winning anyway and he let the other take control of him. The kiss was gentle, just lips against lips for a few seconds but Pierre moved his hand to the back of David's head, slipping his fingers up into the ink black strands of hair and knocked his hat off, letting it fall to the mattress. He was scared that David would pull away, hoping that if he kept his hand there it wouldn't happen. It didn't. David's head turned slightly to deepen then kiss, moving his lips against the other pair in the way he knew how, in the way he remembered it. This kiss wasn't anything like the kisses they shared the previous night, there was hesitance and tenderness laced into it and David could feel it. It burned into every nerve ending on his body, an electrical shock from his lips to the top of his head down to the tips of his toes.

Then Pierre parted his lips and rolled his tongue along the other's bottom lip and David was gone.

If he was standing, he was pretty sure that his knees would've given out and he would've toppled to the floor. He brought his hands to the other's hips, sliding them around to the small of his back to pull Pierre closer, making the gap between them disappear for good. Opening his mouth, he let Pierre in and the two kissed languidly, taking time to memorize each movement, the singer's tongue mapping out every cavity and crevice of the bassist's mouth. They weren't sure how and when the motions became more desperate, but soon Pierre's mouth was pressed more firmly against David's and his free hand and moved up to cup the side of his face and brush stray strands of hair from his eyes and cheek. The battle between their two tongues continued for another moment or so before David whimpered softly, pulling away reluctantly to breathe in some air.

The room was still spinning and David didn't dare open up his eyes just yet, brain on overload and mind dizzy-drunk. A lop-sided grin made its way across the bassist's face, heart starting to beat a little more fully inside of his chest.

They were silent for a few more moments minus the panting and heavy breathing from the two of them as they caught their breath.

"So what did Lachelle say when you told her you loved me?"

Pierre froze. Shit. He wasn't ready for David to ask him something like that. He figured that he must've looked like a dumbass then and there because he fell completely silent and when David opened his eyes to look at him, awaiting an answer, all Pierre could do was open and close his mouth over and over again as he tried to find the right words to say.

"You didn't tell her..." The grin immediately vanished from his face. David laughed, but it wasn't one from humor. No, it was bitter, and he shook his head before giving the singer a hard shove and then standing up from the bed. "I should've fucking figured that one out, eh? After being kept a secret from her for three years I should've realized that you'll never end up telling her about me, about us; the truth." He ran his hands through his hair, combing it back through clenched fingers as he stared at the floor since he was unable to look at Pierre any longer. "You're un-fucking-believable, you know that, Pierre? You're such an asshole! All you care about is yourself and you being happy and satisfied...well I'm fucking not! I'm miserable. I'm so sick of being the dirty secret, the person on the side. Have you ever stopped to care at least once about how I've felt?! If you loved me as much as you say you do, then I wouldn't be so angry right now. You would be treating me with a hell of a lot more respect and Lachelle wouldn't be in the picture any longer."

Still on the bed, Pierre watched as the other screamed at him and his stomach turned, knowing that every single word that the bassist said was right. There was nothing that Pierre could fight against. David was one-hundred percent on the money.

"Stop toying with my emotions." Taking a deep breath, eyes filled almost to the brim with tears, David turned to look at the singer finally. "It's me or Lachelle, Pierre. Take your pick, because this time I'm all or nothing."

Getting nothing in return other than a lost look from the singer, David choked back the tears and fled from the hotel room, door slamming on his way out.

----

"A-are you sure about...about this?" David stammered, cheeks flushing and eyes fluttering closed as the singer's mouth did things to his upper neck and ear that sent chills up his spine and caused his boxers to suddenly get a little tighter than they normally should.

"Yeah, pretty sure...unless you have a problem with this...?" Pierre's voice lingered in his ear before sucking the lobe into his warm mouth and David quivered, pressing back against the arm of the couch to keep himself steady.

It was funny how all they could call what was happening "this", kind of ironic in a sense since they both were pretty sure about wanting to do it...then again not able to vocalize what was actually happening. If you went up and asked David fifteen minutes prior what he was going to end up doing since the show was over for the night, he probably would've answered; "fuck if I know, probably go and get drunk with the guys and then end up trashing my hotel room later" in a true wannabe rockstar fashion. The last thing he expected was the singer to walk into the dressing room while the bassist was only clad in his famous zebra boxers and a t-shirt of some band. The last thing he expected was to be pushed down onto the small couch that occupied the small room. The last thing he expected was for Pierre to climb ontop of him and bring his mouth down to attack David's own in a fierce kiss.

It was a long time coming, honestly. The two of them teased each other non-stop nowadays. It first started onstage as a joke and then morphed into a daily routine, something David usually, shamelessly started. Pierre and his antics had become something that constantly ate away at his mind. It was about time they fucking kissed for real. At least that's what the bassist thought and kissed back just as roughly and now...he and the singer were both shirtless, still hot and sweaty from the concert they had done that night.

Pierre then pressed his naked chest against David's, wrapping his arms around his waist to keep him close and the bassist's brain gave a little fizzle inside of his head.

"Nonono I don't. I want this," David managed to form coherent words to say, the singer's tongue swirling into his ear. If he wasn't so fucking turned on at the moment, David would've laughed about how oddly easy it was for Pierre to find his weak spot so fast. Instead he mewled in pleasure, rocking his hips up against the jean covered ones ontop of him to show the other how much he was turned on. Remoing his mouth from David's ear, Pierre made him whine in protest but covered his lips in another kiss to shut him up.

Kissing lazily for a few moments, Pierre tongued David's lipring before tugging at it with his teeth and groaning in wonder about how good it'd feel if his lips were wrapped around his...

"Let me suck you off..."

David spoke against the other's mouth, feeling how hard the other was against him and Pierre groaned louder at how he had read his mind so easily. Easing off of David slightly, Pierre started to move back, but the bassist's hands quickly moved to his chest and forced him backwards till the singer was lying on his back across the couch and he was ontop. The other eyed him suspiciously and David cracked a grin, proud of his actions. Leaning forward, he started a trail of small kisses and bites down the other's neck, flicking his tongue out at random spots and made sure he paid attention to the other's nipples when he arrived there, licking slow circles around them before decending lower.

The last thing David wanted to admit was that he had never given anyone head before in his life so he didn't know what the fuck to do. Yes, he had recieved head on numerous occasions and he knew what he loved the other person (who pretty much always was someone of the opposite sex) to do to him, but going down on someone else? David had been waiting for this moment for a long time, wanted to do it for what seemed like forever...but to only Pierre. Keeping his cool, the bassist placed more feather-light kisses down the other's torso, teasingly licking into the navel and got a jerk of the other's hips up against him in response.

"Jesus fuck you're a tease!" Pierre growled out, David taking that as a signal to start undoing his pants. He slipped the button out of the hole and tugged the zipper down and came face to face with...oh, he wasn't wearing any underwear. David smirked to himself, carefully tugging the denim down and off of his hips before completely sliding it off of his legs and tossing it to the floor.

Pierre laid before him in all of his naked glory and David's breath hitched in his throat, eyes drinking in the entire scene, wanting it to be permanently burned into his mind forever.

He had seen the other naked countless times before because the stupid singer liked to strip when he got drunk, so it wasn't anything new to the bassist's eyes except for the fact that this time he had the knowledge in his brain that Pierre wanted him. He wanted David to take advantage of him. Wrapping his finger's around the base of Pierre's cock, David groaned at how if felt in his hand, licking his lips before bending forward, slipping them over the head.

It didn't taste bad. That was David's first thought as he flicked his tongue at the rim and slipped his lips a little lower to take more of the singer into his mouth. He didn't understand why some girls complained about the taste because, honestly, the bassist had definitely put plenty of things in his mouth that tasted worse than sucking cock. At least Pierre's cock, anyway. Swirling his tongue around the head, he was rewarded with a groan of pleasure from the other, looking up when he felt Pierre's hand slip into his hair and grab at it sightly, messing up the fauxhawk he spent so long doing before the show that night. Honestly though, David could care less that it was ruined now. Fuck that.

David had a small mouth, oddly enough, but he took as much of the singer as he could inside of it before slipping his lips up, dragging his tongue along the vein at the underside and then back down again; repeating the action repetatively. Fingers clenched in his hair and the bassist took that as a good sign, sucking a little harder and hollowing his cheeks now that he had found a rhythm. Pierre jerked his hips up into David mouth though and the bassist choked slightly, pulling off and blinking back tears that appeared in his eyes from his gag reflex kicking in.

"S-sorry..."

He suspected that the singer wasn't sorry at all, but once he got enough air in his lungs again and swallowed a few times, David moved back down again...this time with one of his hands keeping the other's hips pinned to the couch. Stopping for a moment, David grinned to himself before dragging his bottom lip and lip ring up Pierre's cock slowly, teasingly and watching as he squirmed against the cushions of the couch. Flicking his tongue into the slit, the bassist took the other into his mouth again, easily finding the bobbing rhythm he left off on. The singer tensed beneath him, David slowing down his actions and watching him with a careful eye.

"I'm gonna come," Pierre warned breathlessly and David immediately backed off his cock, the hand at the base squeezing to stop him from reaching orgasm.

"Not yet," David commanded when the other looked at him incredulously.

Leaning over slightly, the bassist plucked Pierre's discarded jeans off the floor and sat back up on his knees, sticking his hand down every pocket he could find, searching for something.

"What are you doing...?"

"Looking for your wallet."

"I'm supposed to pay you for that pathetic blow job?!"

"NO, YOU ASSHOLE! I'm looking for a fucking condom."

Finally picking the right pocket, David pulled out the black wallet and flipped it open, smiling when he saw a condom tucked into the back of it. Of course Pierre had one. There was probably more in there as well, but the bassist only needed one and he took it out, tossing the pants and wallet back to the floor. He reached up, holding the corner of the condom package between his teeth as he rid himself of his boxers, adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...what are you doing?"

David looked at the other like he was stupid. "I'm going to fuck you...?" He spoke with the condom package still in his mouth, reaching up to rip it open with his teeth. The bassist stopped though when he was met with a loud laugh and the condom was snatched from his hand by Pierre and the singer sat up, trying to get up completely.

"Lie down. I'm fucking you."

Looking back at him with wide eyes, David made a grab for the condom again but Pierre was too fast, moving his hand out of the way.

"Like hell you are!" David spoke through gritted teeth, attempting to get the condom again but Pierre leaned back and stretched over his head so that it was way out of reach for the bassist. Hovering over the singer, David moved his body up and stretched his arm out to get the package. It wasn't working.

"Asshole..." he breathed out. "Give me...the fucking...condom..."

Finally pinning Pierre down, he got it back, but because he was stronger, the singer immediately flipped them both over...taking a tumble off of the couch and onto the carpet. David landed with a small 'oof' and Pierre was ontop of him, this time being the one to pin him down and pulled the condom from his hands. With a satisfied smirk, he tore the package open with his teeth, spitting out the piece he ripped off and looked down at the other who was squirming around in an attempt at being the dominant one again. Attempt failed.

"Stop fucking squirming around, it'll make this easier."

"Can't we fucking do...I don't know, rock paper scissor or something?" David asked, his body getting tired from all the moving around. He was starting to give in to defeat.

"What?! No!"

Pierre's erection was already beginning to die off, so he rolled his hips down, cock sliding against David's. The younger of the two cried out in pleasure and bucked his hips up, craving more attention. Pulling away, the singer looked down for his approval. It was either this way or no way and he made sure the other got that memo. He wasn't going to fuck someone who was unwilling.

"Okay, okay! Fine. Just...fuck me."

Sliding the condom on, Pierre tossed the package away and stroked himself to get some of the lube on his fingers, using his dry hand to prop the bassist's legs up on his shoulders. Without a warning, the singer rubbed his index finger at David's entrance quickly before letting it slip inside, the other sucking in a sharp breath. Pierre didn't hear it though, letting out a low moan in his throat as he worked the finger in all the way to the knuckle.

"Holy shit you're tight..."

"Your finger's in my ass, Pierre," David hissed out, closing his eyes and biting his tongue to focus on something else.

"Thank you, captain obvious," Pierre snapped back, twisting his finger slightly before pulling out to the tip and pushing back in with two. David yelped slightly, body moving away from the intrusion because...fuck. Two fingers definitely seemed like a hell of a lot more than one. He felt a light burn, stretching and his muscles immediately constricted against the fingers trying to push them out. The tighter David got around Pierre, the more the singer was ready to lose it, be inside of him already. Pumping his fingers in and out of him in a slow rhythm, the singer watched the other's face, waiting for the obvious discomfort to leave his features.

"It's not gonna get any better so just please do something already!"

Pierre figured he must be doing something wrong because...he was pretty sure that David was supposed to feel good by this point. Getting frustrated and wrist getting tired and limp slightly, he angled it differently inside of the bassist and suddenly the other's body jerked and David opened his eyes. Pierre stopped moving his hand in shock and their eyes met. "...holy fucking shit, do that again." Pierre did as he was instructed to do and David mewled out in pleasure, rocking his hips slightly to get the other to continue the pace and only let out a small groan when a third finger was entered, not giving a damn about the pain anymore. When Pierre thought he was ready, he removed his fingers, wiping his hand on the carpet before positioning himself at his entrance.

He was going to ask David to tell him when he could go, but the other looked at him and gave a nod before the words even left his mouth and Pierre pushed inside of him.

David wondered in his mind how fingers were honestly supposed to help prepare him since the singer's cock was definitely bigger than all of the three fingers that had been inside of him at once. It hurt. It hurt really, really bad and he suddenly wondered why he wanted to go through with this in the first place. It had happened so randomly too. It wasn't like he gave much thought to the situation. Eyes screwed shut tight again and bottom lip drawn into his mouth by his teeth which were biting down on it harshly, David waited until the other was completely inside of him. He stopped, wanting to make sure the other was okay, usually what he did if he had sex with women when it was their first times and David thrashed around a little beneath him in frustration. Pierre not moving inside of him definitely hurt worse.

"Ugh Pierre, I'm not a fucking girl...just move already!"

Not hesitating a bit, Pierre started to move, pulling out just barely before sliding back in, shallow thrusts at first so the other could at least get used to the feeling of someone moving inside of him. It was fucking killing him inside though, he wanted to just pound relentlessly into the other until he came, David's body like a hot, wet vice grip around his cock. Eyes fluttering closed, he swallowed hard, using every bit of will power to keep David in mind. He was just writhing in pleasure against his hand...why couldn't he be doing that now? Speeding up his thrusts, Pierre angled so that he'd be able to push into him with better ease, the bassist's body arching off of the floor all of a sudden.

"Merde sainte," David cursed loudly, Pierre pushing into him again as he rolled his hips down to meet up with the thrust. "That...feels so...fucking good..." he admitted, toes curling as the other bucked his hips into him again, brushing over something inside of him. Tilting his body to the side, David tried to change the angle a little more, opening his eyes to look up at the other, locking gaze. He wanted to speak, but the words were lost in his throat and they took a moment of just staring at each other, Pierre's hips swiveling as he pushed into him again and the bassist's jaw dropped in pleasure as his prostate was met dead on.

"Oh..." David gasped out, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over with lust. "Harder...s'il vous plaît," he begged.

Pierre gladly sped up his actions, now pulling all the way out till the tip was just inside of him and pushed back in, slamming against the bundle of nerves. David yelped before cooing out in pleasure, reaching up with one hand to rub at one of his nipples, the other hand grasping at the carpet underneath him, nails digging into the material. Keeping the thrusts quick and rough, Pierre practically pushed the singer into the carpet, the roughness of it rubbing against his back. There would definitely be severe pain from it come later on, the obvious rug burn all over his back, but at the moment David could honestly care less. A mix of curses and commands for the other to go faster, harder poured from the bassist's lips, hand moving down his stomach to his own neglected cock, wrapping his fingers around it before jerking himself off to reach orgasm. A tight ball of pleasure growing in his groin, he moved his hand quickly over himself, thumbing at the tip as Pierre continued to fuck him. So close, he was so close. The singer's thrusts became somewhat sloppy and David could tell he was ready to come soon too. Letting a whine rip from the back of his throat, David bucked up into his own hand then down onto the other's erection, feeling himself ready to fall over the edge...

And then Pierre leaned down and kissed him again and David lost it. A few whimpers left his throat, the sound getting swallowed up by the other singer's mouth as he shoved his tongue into David's and the bassist's body spasmed, coming all over his own hand and their stomachs in a few spurts. His body froze as the feeling of orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave, trembling and feeling weak as he was lifted on the post sex high. Pierre came seconds after him, emptying himself out into the condom and groaned against David's mouth in satisfaction, nipping at the other's bottom lip.

They laid there for a few moments in the same position, though Pierre had eased the other's legs down so that his feet were on the floor again, kissing David lazily. Tongue met outside mouths for a few moments, the singer just taking in how the other tasted as he caught his breath through his nose.

Once their heartrates went back down, David broke the kiss, lips numb and he rested his head back against the floor. Looking up at the other a bit starry-eyed, he gave a small amused smile.

"So...that was interesting?"

"To put it...mildy, yes." with a groan, Pierre pulled out of David, the other whimpering with the lost contact and the feeling of being empty again. His backside hurt, knowing that tomorrow it'd probably be worse, but right then he'd rather just lay down for a few more moments to compose himself.

"Holy shit. I think...I think that was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life."

Pierre just smirked as he rolled onto his back next to the other, staring up and the blindingly white tiled ceiling. Yeah, he felt pretty good right about then.

"Is that...are we ever going to..." David bit his lip, trying to collect all of his thoughts together to say something that'd make sense...without sounding like a totally desperate girl. "...will that ever happen again? Or was that...just a one time thing?"

Silent for a moment, Pierre tought to himself and then spoke, voice a hell of a lot more steady than David's was. "I think we'd both be lying to each other and ourselves if we didn't want that to happen again." More silence followed that and finally the singer turned to his side and propped himself up on the elbow to look down at David. "But it's just sex," he stated firmly and the bassist looked at him with confusion, unsure of what point he was trying to get at. "All of this...this was fun but it doesn't mean anything...right?"

David nodded his head slowly, processing everything Pierre said in his mind. "Yeah. Just fun."

"Good." He started simply, turning to lay down again on his back. "Cause I don't know about you, but I definitely need it."

----

David had left the hotel room a half hour proir to that exact moment and yet Pierre was still sitting in the bed in shock from it all. He didn't know what to do. How the fuck was he even going to go about it all anyway?! Lachelle thought the two of them were fine. They weren't though, how could the singer classify everything as being okay when he had fucked someone else during the relationship? Of course that had been going on long before anyway, but it had stopped when Pierre honestly wanted things to turn serious.

He needed to tell her. It wasn't an option. Pierre feared that if he didn't do what was right this time, he'd lose David forever...as a bandmate, as a friend and as a lover. Just thinking about that caused his heart to stop dead in his chest for a moment and he gasped for air to desperately fill his lungs. He couldn't lose David, without the bassist in his life he was nothing.

Taking a moment to calm himself down, Pierre rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. The singer never suffered from a panic attack in his life and what came over him wasn't exactly one, but it felt close to it. Raking back his fingers into his hair in frustration, a scream ripped from his throat and he slammed his hands back down to the mattress. This wasn't fair. All of this pressure on him was too much. Pierre loved Lachelle, but he loved David more. How was this such a hard thing to figure out? Prior to all of this Pierre never really gave a damn about anyone else's feelings...then again that's what got him all caught up in this situation.

Maybe he needed to stop thinking just for a moment because all he was doing was just running around in circles.

Looking over to the head of the bed in thought, Pierre took a double glance at the pillows, curiosity striking him when he saw something peaking out from underneath one of them. He leaned forward, reaching beneath it and slid out a small notebook. It looked pretty old. Not relatively new, nor used for ages, but the bind of the book was worn and bent and the pages were frayed a bit on the side.

Flipping the book to see the front cover, the singer's eyes scanned over the brown material, fingers brushing along the words that had been carved into it. He traced over the letters slowly with his index finger as he mouthed what it said...breathing out the words.

"Holding On..."

It then dawned on Pierre that he wasn't holding just any book. This wasn't something David read in his spare time to kill bordom...the singer was holding his diary. Trailing his fingers down the spine carefully, he swallowed thickly, going back and forth between himself in his head. Should he open it? He had no right to...but God, the wonder was killing him, he had to know what was written in there, it could be things about him! he looked over at the door of the hotel room, eyeing it for a moment incase David decided to return but after a few seconds of the bassist not arriving back, he figured that he was in the clear. Flipping the cover open, Pierre was met with a blank page, but once he turned that over as well he was met with half of a page written in french.

Reading the first sentence, unable to help himself...a wave of guilt washed over him, but he was in too deep now to shut the diary and put it back where he found it.

Dear Pierre,
You'll probably never see this because I'm not even sure if I'll ever give it to you, but I was told that writing how you feel is a good way of releasing emotions that need to be let out so I'm going to try it. You've won. Are you happy? You've succeeded in building me up and tearing me down and as you leave me with a satisfied smirk on your lips, I lie here in pain and I hate myself for it. I don't love you. If that's what I thought love was, what I felt for you, then maybe true love really doesn't exist at all. It's not possible for someone to be so selfless, to be capable to love someone more than they love themselves. You've proven that to me. You broke my heart and stomped on all of the pieces left over. I don't love you. You're the most arrogant, conceited, selfish asshole I've ever met in my entire life. I hate you. You don't know the damage you have done and most likely nor will you ever. I don't love you. I could never in my life love someone like you. You are everything I don't want. Fuck you, fuck everything we've been through because it all doesn't matter anymore. Did it even matter when it happened in the first place? The first time was a mistake. The second time was a false alarm and the third time was a lie. Everything after that was a blur. I'm done with you any everything that you've put me through. This is the end of it. I don't love you.

You can say what you want, but you still can't fool me.

Pierre could see the marks on the page from tears; how certain spots of the paper seemed harder from the moisture drying over it, how some of the ink ran away from the words David wrote down from the water. The singer's heart stung in his chest from the bitterness of the letter, swallowing hard as it left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew he fucked up. Now he knew that, yes, but when this entry was written...he had no idea. He just didn't give a damn, and knowing that he didn't made each word scratch up his heart more. Knowing that he should really stop reading about now, Pierre chose not to and flipped the page to reviel the next letter.

Dear Pierre,
No matter how many times I tell myself, how much I try to convince myself that I don't love you as much as I thought I did or at all, I can't. You're like a bad habit. I need you, I crave you every day, every second of my life and I feel like I'm nothing without you. I feel like ever since the day you ended things I've been slowly dying inside. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to take this. I see you with her; holding her hand and kissing her like you did with me and it destroys me. I'm supposed to be yours. It wasn't supposed to end this way, it was supposed to be a happy ending for the both of us and now you're the only one riding off into the sunset while everything in my life fades to black. I want to hate you, but I can't. How is this possible? You've killed me and yet I cannot stop loving you. I wish you would just leave me and my thoughts alone.

I try to escape cause I just can't take it.

It pained the singer to read every word on the page, but it felt like he needed to...he needed to know every single word that bassist thought about him; good or bad. who knew if it would eventually fix things, but Pierre had to know what David was thinking...had thought when everything happened, or he'd go insane. Turning to the next page, Pierre noted to himself that the entries started to decrease in size, the scribbled writting seeming more forced, like it hurt the bassist to write out as much as he tried when he first started.

Dear Pierre,
Biggest confession of my life: I've loved you forever. I've loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you and you had no idea who I was. I was standing in the crowd of people at a Reset concert, watching, looking up at you as you sung and brightened up the entire arena and made me feel the best I've ever felt in my life. I never told anyone this, not even you, but I fell in love with you before we had even met. Maybe if I ended up telling you that years ago when we fooled around on the floor of that dressing room after the show we did, it might've changed things in my favor. Or, it might'e scared you away and ruined everything. I don't know. Thinking about it just hurts too bad. Sometimes I honestly wish I'd never laid eyes on you in the first place.

I fake another day and the wheel keeps turning.

The last line killed Pierre inside and he felt a tug at his heartstrings. How could he have never realized how much David loved him since the beginning? It was so painfully obvious now that the singer looked back on it and maybe, just maybe he did know the truth about David's feelings deep down but was too afraid to admit them to himself. No matter how much the singer prepared himself for the next entry though, it wasn't enough. Another page turned and Pierre almost dropped the diary in shock. Crimson red dots of different sizes and shapes spotted the page, some that had soaked through and dried three to four pages down and stuck the papers together. Blood. There was no question about it, the marks couldn't be anything else and Pierre's stomach did a twist and he felt like thowing up, but instead he sat there and read the letter underneath the marks.

Dear Pierre,
I'm so numb that I can't feel anything anymore. The doctor I'm seeing keeps on prescribing me anti-depressants that aren't working good enough for me. They either tire me out too much, drain all of my energy away or they're just not strong enough. Nothing seems right anymore. I still keep all of the bottles of pills in my suitcase for emergencies, taking a few of them at night help knock me out. I can't sleep if I don't use them, my body won't let me. Normally they keep dreams rare, I can't remember the last one I had and that's a good thing because they're always about you. Sebastien found my storage of pills the other night and freaked out on me. I think he thought I was trying to kill myself. I told him I wasn't and what they were and I'm pretty sure he's still suspicious of me, but he let it go. I'm positive he didn't tell you about it though, everyone knows not to talk to you about me anymore. Silly me and my problems.

I try to smile but I can't remember how.

For a moment or so, Pierre tried to pry the pages that had been soaked together from blood apart, but he couldn't. It was too risky. He heard one teeny tear and he backed off, afraid to try any further. Whatever had been written on those pages were hidden and lost forever, though probably burned into the back of David's mind. Pierre was sure he remembered every single word he wrote down, the singer sure did when he ended up doing so. The next page he saw clean of blood was just a bunch of scribbles and slight rips where the singer assumed David pushed down on the pen too hard and tore at the paper. Illegible handwriting was beneath the mess, but he couldn't make out a single word beneath the usual beginning of "Dear Pierre" and after squinting and trying his best to make any anything else out for a few minutes, Pierre developed a slight headache and had to turn the page.

The letters took a sudden stop and Pierre's eyes skimmed over the one sentence scribbled across the page in large letters, english this time around.

"This place is so pathetic, doesn't anybody get it; is there anybody home?"
Pierre could see the desperation in the handwriting and swallowed hard, fully aware now that he was in the middle of reading the other's breakdown. Flipping the page, he came to another sentence, though this one considerably smaller than the last.

"So how'd we get so jaded?"
Turning the pages a little faster now, the singer found a pattern of random words and sentences, stopping to really evaluate each one and soak them in.

"The life we're living, it's all masquerade."

"We're just a shadow of what we used to be."

"Now this feeling is spreading like a disease."

"Here we are; pretending we're okay."

"Once again i'm falling to my knees."
Pierre's mind was spinning. All the words he had read scrambling up in his mind and getting played back over and over like a broken record. None of these sentence entries were dated, the singer didn't know how far back or possibly how recent they were made but something about them... Eyes stinging from tears, he blinked to clear them, sucking in an uneasy breath. Fuck. This was so hard. How could Pierre possibly look David in the face after he read all of this? Swallowing down the guilt, he turned the page again and stared at the sentence occupying the top of the white paper.

"Is it so complicated to not give up to me?!"
The sentence hit him in the gut, Pierre reaching down to touch the words with his fingertips. Pulling back, he noticed a light smudge he made on the page and his eyes widened slightly, looking at the tips of his fingers. Still wet ink rested there and Pierre's heart gave a little flutter then tumble in his chest. David must've wrote that right before Pierre showed up at his hotel room door.

Slamming it shut and not even thinking twice about it, the singer finally left the room with the diary in his hands.

----

After about an hour or so sitting up in his locked hotel room alone (Lachelle said she was going to go out and do some shopping), Pierre finally stared down at the piece of paper occupying his hands and then to the diary sprawled out on the hotel bed next to him. He still wasn't satisfied with the way the words of what he wanted to be the chorus flowed, but maybe he should ask Chuck since the two of them never really worked on a song without each other's approval.

Pierre should've really asked for David's approval for this too, but he figured the man wouldn't agree no matter how much the singer would try to persuade him and...to be honest, he'd probably recieve a punch in the face for reading his diary in the first place anyway.

Eyes skimming down the page, Pierre as sort of left breathless at how easy it was to tie all of the sentences that he wrote together. Apart, they didn't really seem like they'd flow well together, but after an hour of mixing them up like puzzle pieces and putting them back together in different patterns, it's like they were written back to back for each other.

David should really help write songs, Pierre thought to himself as he flipped the pencil occupying his hand and erased part of what he wrote down, changing an "i've" to "we've" and read it back to himself.

"...has become a place we've come to cry. Yeah. I like that better..." he murmured to himself, tapping the pencil against the paper and it broke the silence of the room as he thought to himself. Pierre mentioned the letters, but quickly changed it to one since it rhymed with 'better' and there was honestly only one of the letters in the diary written to him that made him feel better, to know that he wasn't alone in this. David would always love him, he always had.

Checking the time on the clock, the singer read the red flashing lights. 6:04. Pursing his lips together, he figured that now would be the best time to see Chuck before it got too late and he crashed for the night and Lachelle got back from her shopping trip. Folding the paper in his hands into fourths, Pierre got up from the bed and grabbed his keycard off of the dresser and exited the room, leaving David's diary still opened on the bed.

"He could not throw everything away for love. That would've been stupid."

2008-06-29T08:15:32Z

Title: Holding On [sequal to Quiet Things] (1/4)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: Pierre/David obviously
Rating: As a whole, NC-17 though it's pretty PG-13 this chapter.
POV: Third
Summary: Pierre gets the inspiration to write the song Holding On.
Warnings: Cursing and a little bit of boy kissing and touching.
Disclaimer: Don't own either of them or Simple Plan's other bandmembers and songs, please don't sue. I am a poor college student with no money.
Dedication: For Rissa and Matt.
Author Notes: The song Holding On on the new Simple Plan CD pretty much screams P/D to me, ever since the first time I heard it, for a LOT of reasons. This is my take on the reason to why it was written. This is the sequal to The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows, a fic I posted back I think in...February? They're two seperate fics, but this is a continuation of that story. I got a bunch of requests to continue it, so here it is! I hope none of you are disappointed.
Previous Chapters: prologue

Maybe it was all a dream.

That's what David was hoping for when he felt the familiarity of stiring from sleep, the events between him and Pierre hours before still on his mind. It could've been a dream. It all happened so fast and it felt too foreign, to unrealistic to have actually occured. Maybe the bassist had imagined the entire thing, a concequence for the lack of sleep he had been applying himself with lately. Like a mirage, only he wasn't in the middle of a desert and seeing a body of water, no, he was dreaming about fucking Pierre Bouvier.

If he could only have been so lucky.

He groaned, eyelids already at half mast into squints and he had just opening his eyes seconds prior. The room was too bright. He was still on the floor, knees against his chest and back against the wall and he hurt. His body ached all over and maybe he would've been able to pin all of the pain from the way he was sitting, the way he had fallen asleep, but his ass hurt too and he knew the obvious reason why. Trying to move was something that should've been an easy task to accomplish, but at the moment it seemed like the hardest thing in the world for him to do. Struggling with himself for a few moments, David decided to just sit there until someone tried to call him or knock on his hotel room door to get ahold of him. Didn't they have press stuff to do that day? David couldn't remember if that was on the agenda or if it was something else, something to do with the writing of their upcoming album. He still needed to put down some bass tracks and look over lyrics that Chuck had written for another song in the works. Everyone always got to share their opinion.

But none of that seemed appealing at all at that moment. All David wanted to do was sit there against the wall and cry. That was easier said than done, though, David felt like he couldn't even cry anymore. Everything was let out that night. His cheeks were still covered with the tears that dried against them as he fell asleep in a tight ball, the heavy eyeliner beneath his eyes smudged way past the corners. He reached up to rub at his closed eyelids, trying to rid the sleep and the hurt from them, but neither was accomplished. Opening his eyes fully, the irises adjusted to the light of the room and he looked down at his hands, coal from the make up smeared across his fingers.

At that moment it was safe to say that David was pretty sure that he looked like shit.

----

"Where the fuck is David?!"

Chuck had requested for everyone to be down in the lobby of the hotel by the latest ten o'clock AM and everyone had obliged, but only four of the band members stood there (plus Patrick, as usual filming the scene). The drummer was fuming. It had passed ten a half hour ago and David still wasn't showing up. He knew that the bassist took forever to get ready most of the time, but this was ridiculous.

"Diva D..." Sebastien mumbled quietly, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips since it was an attempt at a joke and Jeff let out a snicker, but they both stopped thinking it was funny when they were met with a death glare from Chuck.

Pierre however, was at the other side of the lobby, leaning back against the countertop of the check in with his hands in his pockets and his head hanging low. This was all of his fault and he fucking knew it. His insides were turning and he was pretty sure that throwing up was going to be inevitable, it was bound to happen by the end of the day. he didn't even know what was going to happen. Of course, he automatically thought the worst and pictured the elevator door opening and David walking out with all of his suitcases declaring that it was time for him to leave the band. Pierre wasn't stupid, he knew David was broken and beyond repair and not happy with his life anymore and the reason for all of that was because of him. Every day that he saw how miserable the bassist was, it ate away at him inside. At first he didn't care, he was too stupid to notice and focused all of his emotions on Lachelle to pay attention to how badly he broke the other down. Lachelle deserved it though, didn't she? She deserved all of the love in the entire world considering when Pierre first got together with her, he was seeing David constantly behind her back.

By seeing he meant fucking.

Lachelle was gorgeous. Lachelle was sweet and funny and knew how to make Pierre smile almost as good as David knew how. Almost. She laughed at all of his stupid jokes and thought bathroom humor was the best humor around...how could he not be into a girl like her? Plus, the sex was amazing. She had a body to kill for and she was fantastic in bed. Not to mention she knew how to fucking party, how to hold her liquor down and one of the keys to the singer's heart was through alcohol. That was no secret. She was the perfect girl for Pierre. She was the perfect girl and Pierre had cheated on her non-stop for two years.

But the thing was...she wasn't David.

"Okay, so since all of us are standing here just waiting for David to come down and it's obviously not working out...I'm going to actually go up there and see what's the matter," Jeff's voice cut through the silence and Pierre's thoughts. The guitarist started to walk over to the elevator, but a ding was heard and the doors slid open. Lo and behold, the raven haired bassist stepped out and Pierre's head shot up to see him walk into the lobby. Chuck didn't even take a second before he started attacking him.

"David, what the fuck is wrong with you?! We're gonna be late for this interview because you couldn't get your ass down here fast enough--"

"Merde, Chuck," David cursed, snapping the words at the drummer's face when he got close enough. "Shut the fuck up. It's not for another hour and I'm down here and we're gonna be on fucking time so just chill, alright?"

Chuck could've seriously burned holes into the bassist the way that he was staring at him, but David continued walking till he was at the front of the lobby and exiting to get to where the van was.

"The first interview we've had in months about our upcoming album and David's just acting like it's no fucking big deal. God, I could just..." Running his hands through his hair in frustration, Chuck rambled to himself, muttering the end part of his sentence as he walked towards the doors as well. The rest of the band got the hint that it was time to go, following suit.

----

The interview went well, at least from the woman who was interviewing them's standpoint. Honestly, you could've probably cut the tension in the room with a knife. David suspected that the gallons of bleach she obviously used for her hair probably sunk in way past the roots and seeped into her brain. Typical blonde. Either that or she was just too stupid to notice that something definitely was not right. That was fine by the band though, this was after all about their new CD anyway and they needed to let people know that yes, they were still alive and no, the band did not break up. All of her questions had a sticky sweet feeling to them, her voice nasally when she spoke and her giggle had a high pitch whenever she thought something was funny. David suspected that she was forcing the laughs out.

He also suspected that she didn't give a damn about Simple Plan either, but whatever. That wasn't one of the qualifications she probably needed to get the job. One of the questions on the survey she probably filled out was definitely not "Do you like Simple Plan? Check yes or no." None of that mattered though, the whole point of this was so that the fans got a heads up with what was happening with them and their music.

David decided from that moment on that he did not like blondes. The interviewer definitely rubbed him the wrong way and in a strange way reminded him of Lachelle...though he couldn't hate Lachelle. She was too funny and nice and...non-threatening to be able to hate. He would always try to find a reason to hate her, but then she brought back David his favorite kind of sushi whenever she and Pierre had gone out to eat somewhere, or made sure that the bassist got shotgun whenever they were in the van and had to drive a long distance...because she knew he felt claustrophobic when sitting in the back. She even made him fucking soup and bought him medication whenever he got sick.

Because David Desrosiers was Pierre Bouvier's best friend.

And Lachelle Farrar was Pierre Bouvier's girlfriend.

He went to therapy shortly after the break up with Pierre. The bassist wouldn't dare tell a soul about it and it was all anonymous, but he had learned a few things from the visits...how to deal with his emotions. He did not hate Lachelle. The therapist told him to maybe focus and channel his anger on something else, something that he wouldn't end up hurting. He tried writing, he kept a diary in his suitcase and he jotted down a few notes about how he felt once in awhile, but that never really helped. David decided that the stupid blonde reporter would just have to deal with being the object of the bassist's anger. She made it easy, though.

"So did you and the singer really fuck around?"

The interview was over and David thought he was alone, making his way to the bathroom before leaving to go back to the hotel, but the bottle blonde reporter cut infront of him before he could actually get to where he wanted to go. Staring at her in horror, the words she said played in his ears on repeat like a broken record.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me...what's your name again?" She actually had to think for a moment and David curled his upper lip up in disgust. "Oh, yeah, David."

"First of all, that's just a rumor and and second of all, even if it did happen in some crazy fucked up universe, why the hell would I tell you anything?"

"I'm not as dumb as you think I am, sweetheart," she said with a wink and then she was gone. David watched as she turned on her heels and excited the hallway and fingernails dug into his palms from the fists he ended up making in anger. Kicking the door to the men's bathroom open, the bassist suddenly felt the need to just...go back to the hotel and lie down. Fuck pissing, he just...needed to leave. Now.

----

Why did it always feel like when shit just kept on happening to your life, it didn't stop until you actually hit rock bottom? David felt like every day he was digging a bigger hole for himself and people kept on shoving him into it. When he was pretty sure than he had hit the end of it all, it was like the ground was pulled from beneath his feet. He just wanted it to end already. Once it all stopped, there was nowhere to go but up. David just had to keep on reminding himself that. He'd be able to climb out of the hole he made for himself eventually. He had to think positive, as much of a struggle as that was for him.

The entire ride back to the hotel was in silence. Chuck was still pissed about how David almost didn't show for the interview that day, Pierre didn't know what to say after the previous night's events with the bassist and David...well...he just didn't want to deal with anyone or anything.

Once they were back and inside of the hotel, they went their seperate ways, David the only one actually going up to his room. Pierre watched him, with a heavy heart, enter the elevator from the inside of the lobby where he was waiting for Lachelle to show up. He had promised her that he'd take her out to lunch that day once they were back from the interview. The other four must've went to get something to eat as well, but the bassist was definitely not hungry. The doors slid closed and the singer couldn't see the bassist anymore, letting out the breath he didn't even realize that he had been holding in. Closing his eyes, he choked back a sob that was ready to escape his throat. Fuck. He was so stupid. He let David go, then fucked around with him a year later and he didn't expect any concequences? Was he really that stupid? He wasn't even drunk when he did it!

"Hey baby..."

Pierre was caught offguard as he felt slender arms wrap around his waist from behind and lips press against the back of his neck for a kiss and if he really tried, he could picture those body parts belonging to David, still remembering distinctly what it felt like when it was from him. It was Lachelle though and the singer swallowed hard at the lump that appeared in his throat before opening his eyes and turning around in the woman's arms.

"Hey you, are you ready to go?"

Of course she was. She looked absolutely stunning and Pierre guessed that it must've taken her more than an hour to get ready. A small smile tugged at his lips at the thought of David taking just as much time getting ready, remembering it driving him up the fucking wall back when they were together.

"So I bumped into David on the way down here," Lachelle's words made Pierre's thinking come to a halt and his heart stopped in his chest. Holy shit. His pulse picked up immedately and he automatically thought the worst. Did the bassist tell her what had happened the night before? Did she find out? This is what guilt must've felt like and the lump that was in Pierre's throat before found home there yet again.

"He seemed really upset about something so I think we should bring back some food for him later. It didn't look like he was going to get anything."

Pierre's heart went back to normal, the fear of getting caught evaporating immediately. He still felt guilty, even more than before, but he pushed those thoughts from his mind. Giving a small nod in agreement, he rested his arm around her waist and guided her to the doors.

"Yeah, we can do that. No problem."

----

Lying on his back on the hotel bed, David could feel himself sinking down into the soft mattress. He tried his best not to think about how less than twenty-four hours ago he wasn't occupying this bed alone, though when he got back the sheets were tucked in and the pillows were arranged neatly. It didn't smell like sex either, he noticed, when he first collapsed onto it. Someone had obviously come in and changed it.

"Wow, that must've been one hell of a lovely surprise for the cleaning lady," David's voice dripped sarcasm as he spoke outloud to himself.

For a few moments the bassist just stared up at the ceiling, starting to count the number of tiles that were there, but he eventually gave up since his mind was elsewhere. Why did he keep on getting put through this? He thought it ended so long ago and now it was back. It was like the wounds that had sliced him open a year ago had been reopened and cut deeper, salt pouring into them with each look the singer gave him. David wasn't blind, nor was he close to being stupid. Throughout the entire interview that day he could feel Pierre eyes burn into the back of his head, watching his every move and it made the bassist unbelievably uncomfortable. What the fuck was going to come next? Everything that was happening to him felt like blow after blow to his stomach and David even winced in pain as he lied there on the off-white sheets of the hotel bed.

After a moment he sighed, turning over to his side to pick up the journal he had placed on the nightstand next to the bed. He needed to let shit out.

----

About an hour and a half later, Pierre found himself standing at the door leading to David's hotel room. The singer was holding a plastic bag with food Lachelle had picked out for David at the place that they decided to get lunch and, of course, Pierre was the person who had to deliver. He couldn't exactly have said to Lachelle "no, you go do it since I just fucked him last night and I don't want things to be awkward."

So yes, this did leave the singer in quite a predicament. It left him standing outside of the door to David's hotel room.

It didn't have to be this hard, but it was. And it was the singer's fault, every single part of it. Why did he even chose Lachelle over David anyway? Because it was the safe route, he reminded himself and he shook his head in anger. Whoever came up with the saying 'better safe than sorry' should be shot...if they weren't already dead. Pierre had the right mind to find out, if this guy was dead, where his grave was so he could kick him around in it a bit. He hated himself. Now he regretted ever being with Lachelle in the first place. He did remember though that when him and David first started out...it was supposed to mean nothing but a good time and sex, but it grew into something so much more. Pierre had tried to not let it get to that point, but he couldn't stop it. More and more, as each day went by, he fell harder and harder for the bassist.

When he had met Lachelle three years prior, he didn't take it seriously. He went out with her, yes...slept with her, yes...but he did the same thing with David, just not...publicly. The bassist didn't mind though, he got it. He understood. He dated women too. The singer had stayed with Lachelle through the entire time and David had his on and off relationships, but soon Pierre found that he was in more of a committed relationship with Lachelle than David was ever with any of his girlfriends. The bassist always seemed to cut the relationships short right before things got too serious.

Pierre, on the other hand, found himself engaged.

There wasn't really one specific day that he woke up and said to himself 'oh, I love Lachelle, it's time to dump David now'. No. It was a series of events and days and weeks and months that went by that caused him to crack and crumble into the decision to break things off. Could he really see himself with a guy for the rest of his life? What would the fans say about it all? It could ruin Simple Plan, everything the both of them had worked so hard for. It was safe. Lachelle was safe and easy. David was danger and the unknown. The last thing Pierre could handle was not knowing what was going to happen to his life. He could not throw everything away for love. That would've been stupid.

But now...now he was turning everything over in his head and it was eating him up inside. What if he was still with David instead of Lachelle?

What if he was engaged to David?

---

"I'm gonna marry you one day."

David's words were sloppy and slurred as he stumbled over to the mirror that was on the dresser across from the bed. He was pretty drunk, but at least he was able to form coherent sentences and actually speak clear enough for Pierre to understand. Half naked, boxers riding low on his hips, the bassist leaned forward to look at his reflection in the mirror and gripped the side of the dresser so hard to keep from falling that his knuckles turned white. He laughed at what he saw, perfect emo hair disheveled from a round of sex, eyeliner smuged under glazed from alcohol eyes. Catching the other in the mirror's reflection as well, he smirked when their eyes met.

The singer was lying naked on the bed, actually sober since he had a marginally less amount of drinks in his system compared to David, but none-the-less was amused by the other's sudden revelation.

Tucking his hands behind his head, he sat up slightly, leaning against the headboard of the bed as a wide smile grew on his lips. "Oh really now?"

"Yes!" David spun around and almost lost his balance from the quick motion, knees buckling slightly and he grabbed at the dresser once more to keep his body from hitting the ground. Another burst of hysterical giggles fell from his lips and Pierre just grinned as he watched the scene. Once the twenty-four year old stopped his laughter, he licked at his lips and clumsily made his way back to the bed, plopping down where the singer's feet were. Falling back, David just turned his body to look in the direction of where the singer was sitting, black bangs covering his eyes, so he blew up to clear his vision. It was still blurry from all of the liquor he consumed, but at least he could actually see Pierre now. Hair spread out over the familiar sheets beneath the two of them, David just grinned drunkly.

"We are gonna get married and live happily ever after."

"And where exactly are we going to live?" Pierre asked, still thoroughly amused, eyebrows raised in question.

"Here! In Montreal! Duhhh..."

"Like there's any place that's better," Pierre said with a laugh, watching at the other tried to sit back up again but fell back twice during both attempts. The bassist just decided to lean back against his elbows when he used them to push himself up.

"Never!" Giving a toss of his hair at another attempt to make sure all of his hair was out of his eyes, David looked back at the singer and bit down on his lip ring in a grin. After he was able to see straight without things moving around, David managed to move his body up the bed more, going to straddle the singer's bare hips and reached up to wrap his arms around the singer's shoulders to keep himself steady. "And we're going to have kids." He pressed his forehead against Pierre's.

David could feel the singer's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he saw the smile widen at his lips and that made another giggle errupt from his mouth.

"You've got it all figured out, don't you?"

"Yes. And their names are going to be Bob and Anna."

"A boy and a girl, eh? Why the fuck those names?"

"They're easy! I can remember them!"

With a loud laugh Pierre flipped over the both of them so that the bassist was pinned under him, legs still wrapped around his waist because the younger of the two was like a fucking leech and didn't want to let go. That was a-okay for the singer though and he rolled his hips down, erection rubbing against the clothed one beneath him. He didn't understand why David decided to put his boxers back on so quickly, but then again there were very few times that Pierre ever really understood the man beneath him. Letting out a low moan, David's hips swayed back up and he leaned his body up to press a kiss to the singer's lips.

"So you'll be taking my last name, right?" Pierre asked teasingly against the other's lips, teeth tugging at the lip ring before pulling away.

"Fuck no! In you're dreams, Bouvier. I will always be a Desrosiers!"

"Maybe we can compromise." Reaching up with one of his hands, the singer traced over David's bottom lip, playing with the metal in the center of it. The bassist noticably shivered under his touch and they locked eyes. "We can mix them." David stared at him for a few moments, bright hazel eyes looking into Pierre's chocolate brown ones for a bit as he tried to register in his drunken state of mind what he meant.

"What?"

"We can be like...Pierre and David Desrouvier or something."

With a snort, David tried to dismiss the idea as a stupid one, but he couldn't help but close his eyes and not fight away the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Ridiculous."

"But it's a good idea."

"Juck fuck me already, Pierre."

----

Pierre smiled to himself as he remembered that night, never really taking David one-hundred percent serious at the time, though maybe he should've. It wouldn't really have changed anything though, he knew that and maybe he did have an inkling in the back of his mind during that time that the bassist wasn't just joking around. He wasn't even sure if he himself was just joking around.

David was piss drunk though, how could anyone take him seriously then?!

Rocking back and forth on his heels, the singer chewed on his bottom lip nervously, still eyeing the door he had yet to knock on.

"What the fuck, stop being such a pussy..." he scolded himself and reached up to finally give a few knocks. It didn't take long for the door to open (which surprised Pierre, but he didn't say anything about it) and the two of them stood there face to face. Silence crept over them for a few seconds, Pierre not knowing really what to say and David fighting the urge to slam the door in the his face and crawl back into the hotel bed to cry.

"Can I come in--"

"No."

"Well then I'm just going to stand out here with this food for you until you let me."

David eyed the bag in Pierre's hand and his stomach turned. He wasn't sure if it was from hunger or nausea, maybe a bit of both.

"Pierre, why are you here?" He couldn't prolong the question any further and David was pretty fucking sure the singer would not be standing in the doorway of his hotel room just to bring him food. He could've told Seb or Chuck or Jeff or even Patrick to go do it for him. The other looked away and David had to bite into his bottom lip from spitting out the word 'coward' at him.

"Can we...can we talk, David?"

The bassist weighed the pros and the cons of the situation in his head, thinking about how much worse he'd probably feel after Pierre would leave if they did talk rather than feel better.

He had no idea why he answered with a yes.

"Your ADD is so ridiculous, David."

2008-03-03T20:57:45Z

Title: Butterfly.
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing(s): P/D obviously!
Rating: I think this is the only thing I'll ever write that's rated G.
POV: Pierre's
Summary: Pierre needs to tell David something important but the other's mind is elsewhere.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned them.
Author Notes: Old P/D. Blonde David. Etc etc.

"David."

When Pierre spoke the younger boy's name, the blonde didn't even flinch or glance up in his direction. Blinking stupidly, suddenly feeling like he was invisible or something to that extent since the other wasn't giving him attention, Pierre scowled. Just glaring at him for a few more moments, he ended up realizing that the other was tapping some sort of a beat lightly on his knees and bobbing his head in rhythm. Oh, he was listening to his CD player. The headphones were so tiny and the color of the wire blended in with the bassist's hoodie that the singer didn't even notice.

With a roll of his eyes, Pierre sat down next to David, occupying the same bench he had been sitting on and reached up to tug one of the small ear pieces out of his ear. David jumped, not having realized that the other took a seat next to him.

"Hi," David said sheepishly, a light blush tinging his cheeks and feeling stupid for getting caught up with his music again. He pulled the CD player out of his hoodie pocket and pressed the stop button, reaching up to remove the headphone out of his other ear. "What's up, Pierre?"

"I uh...need to talk to you about something?"

David's gaze had moved to the seat he was on, the blue paint of the bench fading and peeling and his fingers moved over the cracked surface. "Mhmm," he answered, his attention starting to fade away from the other as he started to chip away the paint with his nails.

Pierre, oblivious to David's attention leaving him since he was staring straight out to where the tour bus was parked, started to talk again. He was too scared to look at his friend's reaction. "I've been thinking," he started off, voice shakey because it was taking him a lot of guts to admit what he was about to. "A lot lately. Maybe about things I shouldn't and--are you even listening to me?!" The singer finally looked back and noticed David picking at the paint of the bench.

"Huh, what?" David asked, head snapping up to look at Pierre with eyes wide with shock. The other let out a strangled, frustrated noise from the back of his throat.

"Your ADD is so ridiculous, David."

"I don't have ADD. I just...get amused easily."

"Right. Like I was saying."

David decided to keep an eye on Pierre this time around and as much as the singer loved that all the focus was on him, a blush found its way across his cheeks. God. This was so hard to say. He never had a problem admitting his feelings and he was twenty-two years old. He wasn't some stupid teenager with their first crush. Looking away from the hazel eyes and into his own lap, he swallowed hard.

"David...I've been thinking a lot and I've come to the conclusion that I think I really like y--"

"BUTTERFLY!"

The singer's head jerked up to look at David who just screamed, watching the bassist jump up from the bench and run after the apparent butterfly he saw just seconds ago.

Pierre was going to scream. He decided that maybe this wasn't a good place to let his feelings about his best friend out. Maybe he should do it in an empty room in the dark so David couldn't be occupied by something else.

Or maybe he'd just sneak into his bunk that night and kiss him instead of just trying to talk about it.

"It was never that simple when it came to them."

2007-12-10T05:47:14Z

Title: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows (oneshot? maybe)
Author: daviddesrosiers
Pairing: Pierre/David obviously
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: Time can change almost everything, but some things just don't quite disappear completely.
Warnings: Cursing, smut etc.
Disclaimer: Don't own either of them, please don't sue. I am a poor college student with no money. Also; the title and lyrics in the story belong to Brand New.
Dedication: For /~johnnycupcakes at insanejournal dot com because she is the Pierre to my David and I love her even though she is Rude.
Author Notes: Hey guys, I'm definitely not new to the p/d fandom, I've loved them for years, but I'm totally new to posting around here. This is the first fic that I've ever had the guts to post and it took me about three months to complete writing, so please don't be too harsh. :[ The fic was inspired by the song that's the title of it, so if you own it, it's a good track to listen to while reading this. I haven't seen anyone post fics focusing on how different the band is compared to the past, so I thought I'd do the honors of writing one about it. I will shut up now and let you read the story haha.

so keep the blood in your head and keep your feet on the ground.
today's the day it gets tired, today's the day we dropped out.
give up my body in bed, all for an empty hotel.
wasting words on lowercases and capitals.

David didn't know how or why exactly it happened, but he felt strong familiar hands press firmly against his small hips and the next thing he knew, he was shoved backwards against one of the paper thin walls of the hotel room he was supposed to be occupying for that night. Alone. But he wasn't alone. The bassist's hazel eyes locked with the darker pair that stared down into his own, his words and breath locking up in his throat. The definition of speechless. If David wanted to say something right then and there, he wouldn't have been able to. There were literally no words to be said, he was so shocked that nothing coherent was forming in his mind. Before he could really register what the hell was happening, lips covered his own in a hard, unforgiving kiss.

This was all too familiar, the touch and the taste. It was like the kiss had happened just yesterday, the senses were still so strong on the bassist's mind that it didn't seem like such a huge time gap between the last time he was kissed exactly like that till that moment. David's heart fluttered before beating rapidly in his chest as memories from years ago played behind his eyelids. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, hot and heavy and the younger of the two just opened his mouth to take it all in. He wouldn't refuse. He never did. David's tongue flicked and twisted and pushed against the other, trying to keep up the best he could as he breathed through his nose heavily. There was no way he was pulling back for air any time soon.

David, Pierre thinks, kisses differently when there's no piercing adorning his bottom lip.

The singer slipped David's bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, adjusting to the difference of the other's mouth without the metal. It had been so long, but Pierre would always remember how much it turned David into a writhing and moaning mess when he tongued and pulled at the piercing. But it wasn't there anymore. Things had changed.

Dizzy-drunk from just something as simple as a kiss, David's mind was in a whirlwind, letting out almost incoherent whimpers as Pierre's mouth went to work at sucking on his bottom lip. It was like he had forgotten how to breathe, lungs burning from the lack of air he couldn't for the life of him remember to inhale. He couldn't believe this was happening, convinced that it was like some sort of fucked up dream he was having because this wasn't supposed to ever happen again. But he had stopped dreaming of Pierre months ago...

Hands fumbled blindly for somewhere, anywhere to touch the other, finally resting on Pierre's shoulder's, gripping tightly, fingers curling into the soft material of his shirt. The older of the two finally broke the kiss, pulling his lips away, but his hands still had a tight grip on David's small hips. Gulping down some air, the bassist finally caught his breath, cheeks flushed and lips kiss swollen enough to color them a perfect shade of deep pink. His eyes were still shut tightly, afraid to open them to reality, like he'd be lying in bed all alone if he dared to look. He felt sturdy hands still attached to his hips though, it couldn't be a dream. If it was, then maybe David was just that good at imagining things. His heart was banging against his ribcase so hard it felt like it would break open, head tilted back against the wall as he panted softly, black hair strewn across one of his cheeks.

"Fuck..." he murmured, the first word that either of two had spoken in that hotel room that night. His voice was ragged and harsh, breathing too hard to even sound like himself. David was given no warning once again as the singer's mouth attached to the bottom of his neck. The younger male let out a sound, almost like a squeak in surprise when Pierre dragged his tongue up the sensitive skin, leaving a hot wet trail to his ear, flicking his tongue against the lobe before nipping at it. David shuddered against the wall.

"Well, we could do that if you want to..." Pierre spoke low into David's ear and the bassist gripped so hard on his shoulders that he probably caused bruises.

He tried to open his mouth and say something back, something snarky and rude and just plain ruthless. Something that would sting Pierre so bad and would help David be able to push the singer away from him, far enough away from him so that he didn't have to relive the past and have everything hurt so bad. Have his heart hurt so bad. But instead of all of that, all he could give as a response was a throaty moan.

"Is that a yes...?"

Pierre's breath was hot and perfect against David's ear and he could feel a shiver run up his spine at just the way the singer spoke to him. David hated himself. No wait, scratch that. David hated Pierre. He hated how the older of the two broke things off between them long ago, years ago. He hated how he told him it wasn't healthy, that it was just sex and it wasn't going to lead into anything so they'd better stop before it turned into something that would fuck up the band. It never fucked up the band prior, why would that change? Pierre went through a number of girls and finally settled with one and it took David so long to finally find someone else, someone that he could focus on, dream about instead of the stupid fucking singer. Too long, it had been too long.

David's eyes fluttered open, searching for Pierre's chocolate colored irises in the darkness of the room. He sucked in a breath, really to tell him off, say "fuck no, get your hands off of me", but he couldn't help but freeze up when their gazes met.

"Why..." he managed to breath out the only word his tongue could form, throat constricting and he swallowed thickly to will it away. He didn't need to explain his question, the meaning behind it lingered in his eyes and he knew Pierre understood. Pierre always fucking understood David. If it was possible his heart had picked up tempo, thumping in his chest like it was going at half time and all because of Pierre. Always.

"Because."

That was a good enough answer for the both of them because when Pierre's mouth crashed back into David's, the bassist didn't fight against it.

Pierre licked into David's mouth, kissing him thoroughly, tongue carressing the other. David let a whimper escape his mouth when one of the singer's hands wandered to the front of his pants, fingering and tracing at the slight bulge the younger male had been supporting for a few minutes now. Fuck, it felt like forever since David felt Pierre touch him like that. So long that it was almost like it had just been something he had thought up on his own and convinced himself happened when it really didn't. His hips pushed off against the wall and into Pierre's hand to try and cause some desperately needed friction, which was basically hell because David's pants were starting to get too tight and Pierre wasn't moving his damn hand hard enough and fast enough for the bassist's liking.

"Pierre," David practically whined his name into the other's mouth, dragging it out as one of his hands slipped up to grasp at the singer's hair. He tangled his fingers in the hair on the back of Pierre's head, twisting and pulling because now there was enough to get a handful and really tug at it.

A growl curled from Pierre's mouth and he let his head be tugged back by David, relishing in the moment because the bassist rarely took the initiative when they were messing around. At least that's how it was years ago. David licked at Pierre's exposed neck, making it a goal to leave as many marks as he possibly could. They always used to do this, like it was some sort of fucked up competition with who could bruise up who more.

David just liked seeing Pierre support the hickies that he knew were from him and him only. Like the singer was his own property.

He lapped at the smooth skin of the older male's neck, tasting the sweat starting to form as a thin layer on Pierre's skin and David sucked at his adam's apple. He was rewarded with a groan, low in the singer's throat and David could swear that he could listen to Pierre sound like that forever, that it was by far ten times better than his singing voice. It made goosebumps trail across his own skin even though the bassist felt like he was starting to burn up from the inside. A noise, like a song...a private show for David and only David to hear. The younger of the two didn't dare to think past that, let his mind register the fact that someone else had heard those exact same perfect noises from Pierre besides himself. The singer wasn't his anymore.

Trailing kisses down his neck, David bit harshly at Pierre's skin, sucking to make sure a clear cut red mark would be set there for days. He would just have to deal with it if, God forbid, his girlfriend just so happened to see it. It was a form of payback in a way and David smirked against the warm skin at the thought of that, getting caught because maybe...just maybe he was dying to. After soothing the fresh bruise with his tongue, David pulled back. Lips connected with lips yet again, fierce kisses as teeth tore at each other's mouths.

Pierre gave David's hard on a squeeze before finally moving his hand away, the younger male gasping in surprise and the singer took the opportunity to suck hard on his tongue. Pierre pressed his body up against the bassist's, rolling his hips against David's and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It was like all the gears that made up his mind stopped turning. His brain shut down. Melted into a pile of mush. He moaned loudly, not giving a fuck that the people in the room right next to them could probably hear him clearly. His hips jerked up to meet with Pierre's even though they both knew they needed to do a lot more than just that to relieve themselves.

Finger's made their way beneath David's red buttoned down shirt and brushed against the top of one of his hip bones, tracing the skin right above the waistband of his jeans. David hissed at the contact on his skin and squirmed, pressing himself back against the wall for support to still be able to stand.

"Tease," he gasped out. "Just take off my fucking shirt or stick your hand down my pants already, I don't fucking care. Just do something."

"Whatever you say, princess."

Well, there were some things that would just never change.

The silence that followed only lasted for less than a second, the sound of the button on David's jeans popping open cutting it. The bassist sucked in a breath, holding it in as Pierre pulled the zipper down agonizingly slow. David could just feel the other's smirk, Pierre's fucking shit eating grin because the singer knew that he was taking forever and David was practically dying as he held himself against the wall. He was completely and totally under his control, putty in his hands.

"Pierre, I swear to fucking God...if you don't do something right now I'm gonna--"

With a roll of his eyes, Pierre shut David up and cut him off with his lips. He kissed him this time a little softer than the times before, tongue colliding with David's and moving almost hesitantly as he kissed him slowly. It was almost like another tease, it left David begging for more, kissing him back a bit more desperately, but it didn't make the older of the two speed up in any way. Pierre's thumbs hooked into the belt loops of the jeans David was supporting and gave a slight tug, working the pants off of his slim hips. It took way more than one tug and pull but soon they were down his hips and slipping past his knees. He would leave David incharge of removing them completely, what Pierre wanted wasn't inside of those jeans anymore. He fingered the waistband of David's boxers, deciding that maybe he was going a bit too far with the teasing and decided to cease doing so. In one swift motion, they were off of his hips and joined the bassist's jeans which were in a pool around his feet.

Breaking the kiss, Pierre had to look down at the sight he had just uncovered and that famous grin was back on his face. David's eyes fluttered open, locking eyes with the other when the singer looked back up at him again. His cheeks flushed red hot. There had been so many times that Pierre had seen him naked, but David never got used to it and adding on a few years since the last time the other had seen him like this? So vulnerable? He was beyond embarrassed. David refused to come off that way though. He was blushing so hard, but it didn't stop him from bringing his hands to the hem of his own shirt to pull it up and over his head, flinging it to the side to be forgotten. Pierre wasn't moving fast enough, still taking his sweet time and the bassist wasn't going to just stand there and wait for him to remove his shirt.

Eyes roamed David's now naked body and brushing his shyness aside, the younger male just smirked at Pierre who was pretty much fucking staring. He could eat it all up, the attention he was being given. David always looked for attention, craved it and now Pierre's gaze was on him and him only. He felt fucking irresistible. He gave a flick of his head to toss some of his raven hair out of his eyes and looked back at Pierre, eyes piercing into the dark irises.

"You know, I really don't mind you staring at me...but if you're not going to do anything but that, I might as well just walk into the bathroom and jerk myself off."

Pierre's eyes narrowed at the vocal interruption, but the fingers that were on the hand that still rested on David's hip skittered down the smooth skin to the inside of the bassist's thigh, caressing the sensitive spot there. David inhaled deeply through his nose, rotating his hips just barely to give Pierre the notification that he could move his hand up further any day now. Really.

"You're still so fucking impatient," Pierre pointed out, hand finally moving up to enclose around the base of David's cock and the other parted his lips to let out something along the lines of a breathy laugh, half of it a sigh from how good it felt for the singer's fingers to be tightly wrapped around him for the first time in ages. He was the only one who knew how to touch David exactly how he wanted to be touched, no one else compared. Humming contently, David let his eyes slip shut once again as he focused his mind on Pierre's hand only.

"Mmm, well I like getting down to the point," David murmured a reply, bucking his hips up into Pierre's touch, letting the other stroke him slowly. "No bullshitting." The bassist's brought his hands up to cup the sides of Pierre's face, eyes half opening for a split second so that he could lean in and kiss the other square on the mouth without missing. No tongue, just lips moving against lips because it was hard for David to have complete control of his mouth when all he could do was emit small groans of pleasure. He let Pierre swallow the noises he was making, hands snaking down his neck to the shirt the other was wearing, nimble fingers working at the buttons. David wasn't going to be the only one standing there naked, that was for sure.

Stepping out of the jeans and boxers that were still around his ankles, David kicked them aside as he ended the small kiss. Pierre thumbed the head of the bassist's cock and David noticeably shivered, moaning the singer's name low in his throat. Hearing his name fall from David's lips in such a fashion made the hair on Pierre's skin stand up straight, determined to make the younger male scream his name by the end of the night.

David crained his neck down to press kisses at Pierre's now exposed collarbone, pushing the shirt open just a little more before kissing down further at the newly exposed skin. His fingers fumbled a bit with the last few buttons, trying to get them undone as quickly as he he possibly could, lips following each one as they opened. The older male let go of David's cock so that the bassist could drop to his knees, shrugging out of his shirt and letting it fall to the floor behind him since it was already undone.

It was payback time. David bit and nipped at Pierre's lower stomach, tongue dipping into his belly button and refusing to go any lower than where his jeans started, mouth busy making marks on the smooth skin. Pierre grunted, fingers slipping into David's long black hair and brushing it back soothingly, as if asking politely for him to continue moving down south. David tried not to laugh.

"And the word you're looking for is...?" David asked, the smile and teasing clearly hinted in the tone of his voice, making sure to speak against Pierre's skin, breathing hotly as he kissed dangerously low.

"Fucking please," Pierre gasped.

David's hands ran up the back of Pierre's thighs, holding the man in place as he let himself move lower, mouthing the singer's dick through his pants. With a squirm, Pierre let out a loud moan in appreciation and the grip he had on the bassist's hair tightened just a fraction of a bit.

Unlike Pierre, David pulled back and swiftly undid the button and zipper of the older male's pants, wasting no time yanking down the jeans and his boxer's quickly followed, cock popping free. Licking his lips, David sat back on the heels of his feet and let the other step out of his pants and push them aside so he wouldn't trip over them. It had been a long time since David found himself in this position, down on his knees, but it wasn't like the bassist couldn't remember what to do. Fuck no, he was an expert at this.

Leaning forward, he pressed wet open-mouthed kisses up the length of Pierre's cock and he felt the other stumble back slightly, so he reached one of his hands around to the back of one of Pierre's thighs to hold him steady. He placed a kiss to the tip, tongue flicking out into the slit and tasting the obvious pre-come that lingered there.

"OhGod, fuck..."

Pushing his hips forward, Pierre was now a hypocrite, the one who was impatient, but David could really care less revealing him, saying anything about it. Instead he slipped his lips over the head, taking Pierre into his mouth slowly. Pierre did his best to stand his ground and not tumble over, toes curling into the cheap carpet of the hotel room floor. He felt his dick twitch at the wonderful heat of David's mouth, the bassist taking his time as he slid his lips all the way down as far as he could to the base. The tip of Pierre's cock hit the back of David's throat and the singer let out another moan, hand moving to the back of David's head to keep him there. The younger male wasn't going anywhere anyway, not like Pierre had to hold him there but the last thing he wanted to see David do was pull his mouth away.

David's tongue curled to massage up and down the length of Pierre's cock, humming low in his throat and the singer started to tug at his hair to get him to start moving, actions becoming a hell of a lot more desperate. David could feel him start to shake underneath his touch and he couldn't help but wonder if the other had gotten a blow job this good since the last time they had slept together.

He started a bobbing motion with his head, slipping his lips up to the tip and tweaked at it with his tongue. His eyes which had closed during some point of it all opened back up to look up at Pierre's face, curious to see if he was enjoying it all even though David had a pretty good feeling that he was. He expected the other to have his head tilted back, or something along the lines of not looking in the bassist's direction, eyes probably closed...but he was met with Pierre's dark eyes looking down at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in concentration. His lips moved back down, trying to take as much of Pierre into his mouth as he could each time before his gag reflex kicked in, not breaking the eye contact the two of them were sharing.

Pierre was taking deep breaths by now, his whole body trembling, just focuing the waves of pleasure coursing through his body thanks to the help of David's mouth. He couldn't even think clearly, mind clouded by it all and he just fucking stared at David because he had almost forgotten how hot it was to watch him go down on him. After a few moments of just continuous sucking and bobbing of his head, David pulled his lips off of Pierre with a small pop, licking at his lips and tasting some of the pre-come that lingered on them.

The singer had to ask. "Why did you--ungh..." David leaned forward to lick a stripe from the base of the singer's cock all the way to the tip, swirling his tongue around it and flicking at the rim. He just smirked widely like he had won the fucking lottery as Pierre gasped down air and tried to stop his mind from spinning, finish the sentence he had started as coherently as he could. "...remove your piercings..." Obviously he was talking about David's lip piercing, a question he had wanted the answer to for months now because even looking at David the same was a hard task to accomplish. Not to mention it felt like something was definitely missing when David went down on him, not like it made anything worse this time around, Pierre was just always a fan of the lip ring.

"It's about time," David answered like it was as clear cut as the sky being blue, the grass being green. "I'm twenty-seven years old, Pierre."

Standing back up, David resumed the kissing that had been cut short previously, his tongue snaking its way inside of the singer's mouth to kiss him completely. Pierre moaned at the taste of himself on David's tongue, mixed with the bassist's own unique flavor as they both battled for dominance over it all. David eventually lost...more like gave into the other, subdued himself into submission, something he was so used to falling into.

"I miss it," Pierre murmured against David's lips when he brought an end to the kiss, lips still hovering over the bassist's. The words pouring from his mouth before he could even think about them.

"Why do you care?" David spat the words back at him, coming out a bit more harsh than he intended, but the younger of the two wasn't aiming to be nice so it didn't matter. "I'm not yours anymore, so it's not your call as to what I do with myself."

The words were like deadly weapons targeted at Pierre's chest, moreso in the direction of his heart, but instead of getting sad/upset about it, the singer's feelings morphed into anger and practically shoved the bassist up against the wall behind him, hard. No, David wasn't his anymore and yeah, that was his call years ago, but he wasn't going to let the other make him feel like crap, lower than dirt, for his decision. However, David's lips curved into a wicked grin at his reaction, glad he got one out of the other, knowing he pressed Pierre's buttons perfectly with what he said, like it was a slap in the face for the fuck ups he did in the past with their relationship and even friendship. It was a good substatute rather than literally smacking him in the face which David had honestly been wanting to do since Pierre walked in and started all this shit up and kissed him. But of course, things had to snowball. It was never that simple when it came to them.

"So are you going to fuck me already or what?"

Pierre's eyes could've burned holes into David the way he was glaring at him, but the truth of the matter was, he was harder than he had ever been in the longest time and the younger man infront of him was always fucking irresistable, even if he was being a little shit, standing there with a cocky grin on his face. Pierre had been wanting this to happen way too much recently and it had seriously dawned on him in the last few weeks leading up to that night. He wouldn't admit it, but he was craving it...he needed it, like David was some sort of drug he tried giving up on and now he was starting to relapse. The singer spun him around without a warning, pressing David up against the cool hotel wall and pushing his hips and cock against his ass. The bassist moaned, the palms of his hands bracing himself against the wall infront of him and he pushed back against the other, dying to feel Pierre inside of him.

"Just do both of us a favor," Pierre leaned forward and growled his words into David's ear. "And don't talk anymore."

It was mostly Pierre's fault for the talking to commence, he really didn't have to say something about David's lip ring not being there anymore, but he did and it made a part of the other snap. As much as Pierre didn't want to admit it, he had no right saying what he did, but inside he was dying to let it out...explain how much he hated the change. Everything had changed. David just didn't want to listen. Pierre didn't cave and bend and break like the man infront of him did so easily. David refused to let himself get hurt again, but his walls were faultering. Pierre was an expert at that, he always knew exactly what to say and the things to do to strip David clear for all his feelings to be uncovered.

Pierre brought his finger's to the corner of David's mouth, the bassist complying to Pierre's wish and saying nothing else, instead turning his head to slip two of the singer's fingers into his mouth. He didn't need to be told what to do, David wasn't stupid. He knew neither of them carried lube around anymore, they wouldn't do it for the hell of it and wouldn't own any since they were both in committed relationships with their girlfriends. Although, the bassist was starting to wonder about how committed he really was to the woman he was seeing since he gave in so fast to Pierre. He worked his tongue in the same fashion as he did just minutes ago on Pierre's dick, making sure to coat the digits with enough saliva. David decided to milk the situation for all it was worth, teasing the other and moved his tongue slowly against the length of his fingers, flicking at the tips. Pierre groaned, his cock aching at this point and rolled his hips against David's ass. He was done with the teasing, it had built up to this and the singer was about ready to explode...he just wanted to get to the point and be inside of David already. Removing his fingers from his mouth which were now slick with spit, Pierre moved them down to the younger man's entrance, rubbing there with the tips of them before slipping one inside of him.

David let out a shakey breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding in, the corner of his lips curving upwards in a satisfied smirk and pushed against Pierre's hand to draw the lone finger in deeper inside of him. He didn't hide away the moan bubbling in in his throat, letting out a small "mmph" as well when Pierre swiftly added a second finger. No one had touched David there in the longest time and he had missed it. Oh God, how he had missed it. He loved the feeling of being filled up and even though David was craving much more than Pierre's fingers, they would definitely do for now. The singer bit and sucked at the back of David's neck, tonguing the flesh as he worked his fingers in and out of the other. He remembered exactly where David's prostate was, how exactly to move his fingers, what angle he should be in and he made sure with every push inside of him to just barely get there. David squirmed and moved his body back against him in slight rhythm, frustrated at how close, yet far away Pierre was. Gritting his teeth, he let the word please leave his mouth, regretting it not even a split second later. David never begged and he couldn't believe he was resorting to it now, of all the times the two of them had messed around.

"You really missed this, eh?" Pierre asked and there it was, David could tell by the way he talked that the stupid lopsided smirk the singer had trademarked was back on his lips. It was funny, Pierre had told David to keep quiet and he was still running his mouth like it was nothing. Did he expect an answer from the bassist? He wouldn't even give the singer the gratification of a responce. Pierre didn't mind nor care though and continuing to finger fuck David, he breathed hotly into the younger man's ear. "You're such a slut for this, I know. You need this, you need someone to be inside of you." And with his words, Pierre let his fingers brush over that sensitive spot within David and the bassist let out a loud, drawn out moan.

Adding one more finger in a fluid motion, Pierre curled them all in the direction of the place inside of David he had hit just seconds ago and pressed directly against the other's prostate. He rubbed the pads of his fingers against the spot for constant stimulation, David letting out a choked whimper and his body shuddered as his head tilted forward, forehead hitting the wall with a light smack. He constricted against the singer's fingers and it flipped to Pierre making the noises at how tight the bassist felt around him. This was the final kick for the singer, it was now or never in his mind and he pulled his fingers out of the other without any notification, ignoring the whine of protest coming from David. He spit into his hand and lubed up his cock with it, knowing that'll have to do and pressed the tip against the bassist's entrance.

David's heart was pounding in his chest in halftime and yeah, it wasn't exactly right for him to just stand there and fuck himself on Pierre's fingers because the singer needed some action too, but it just felt so good that he didn't want it to stop. It did come to an end though, but the older male's cock pressed against him not even a moment later and David let out another whine, identical to the one prior to urge him to keep going. Pierre slid in completely, maybe a little bit too quick, David hissing out at the stretch and burn inside of him. Gritting his teeth, his fingers curled against the wall infront of him for something to hold onto, but it was smooth and flat and that was hopeless case. He managed to balance himself straight with his forehead and palms of his hands, bracing himself as Pierre made sure to push every inch of his dick deep inside of him.

"You feel so good, Dahv," Pierre purred into the sweaty skin of David's neck and the smirk made a reapperance on the bassist's lips.

"Better than any fucking girl, eh?"

He worked his muscles around the singer's cock, closing around him tightly and Pierre cried out in pure pleasure. David took that as a yes.

It hurt, there were no questions about it and Pierre jammed inside of him and not moving didn't exactly help...but David was used to it. Possibly less now that it all hadn't happened for so long, but he definitely wasn't a stranger to Pierre fucking him. Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the pain that shot up his spine, he pressed his ass back against the singer to signify him to start moving already. Pierre got the hint, hands falling to grip at the bassist's tiny hips and pulled almost all the way back out to the tip before slamming back in. David's scream filled the room and ricocheted off of the walls, teeth sinking so far and hard into his bottom lip that he could taste the coppery flavor of blood pooling onto his tongue.

Pierre didn't take long to find a good rhythm, not exactly taking things too slow when he should've...but both of them were so desperate that taking their time wasn't an option now that they got so far. They needed to feel, taste and just...be a part of all of this so bad. David felt like he was being torn in half, getting no mercy from the other as he slammed into him, his whole body shaking with every deep thrust. He whimpered, his voice being drowned out by Pierre's grunts and low satisfied moans and the bassist shifted on his feet to try and change the angle the singer was at. His fingers curled into the wall in an attempt to hold on, nails dragging and cutting, breaking off part of the cheap wallpaper. Eyes were screwed shut, the younger male obviously still hurting even though it was starting to fade away. Well, maybe not fade away, but his body was getting used to the pain.

"Pierre," he growled the singer's name through gritted teeth, trying to warn him that this all was killing the erection he was supporting from the teasing up until then. Pierre got the hint and moved his hips to buck into him in a different spot and David suddenly saw stars flash before his eyes. "Oh fuck," he murmured, the pain dulling completely now that the pleasure overtook it, shot to his cock. Grinding his hips back, David pushed himself from the wall, palms still flat against it, head hanging low, ink black bangs hovering infront of his eyes, to get the singer inside of him completely, buried to the hilt.

With each slide inside of him, Pierre hit David's prostate dead on, trying to make up for all the time he made the other wait "patiently" that night. Maybe...all the time he made David wait for years. He bit at the other's shoulder, right where it met his neck, sucking hard. David whined, throwing his head back to rest on Pierre's shoulder, dark hair pressed across his damp forehead and cheeks. Letting go of the wall with one hand and managing to brace himself with the other, David reached around to Pierre's ass and pushed the singer into him harder. The singer got the memo and made each drive of his hips harder as he collided into the bassist. David continued to guide him with his hand, making him move his hips faster as little pants escaped his lips, tring to remember to breathe through it all.

Hands traveled to David's lower stomach, brushing across the sensitive skin and David moaned out at the contact. He was suddenly hyper-aware of every single touch to every part of his skin, every nerve on alert, his senses on overload. Pierre's hands against him felt like fire. "Oh God," David whined, wanting so badly to be touched and the singers hands were so, so close. He could feel all of the heat pooling into his stomach, knowing he was dangerously close to the edge...but his cock needed attention. He wanted Pierre in him and around him and everywhere he could possibly be when he hit his orgasm. "Please touch me, I'm so close..." he warned, the hand that managed to keep him held up by pressing against the wall starting to slip from the sweat forming at his palms.

But Pierre didn't. Instead, he tilted his head to the side to kiss and nip at David's jaw, thrusting into him a few more times before...

David gasped out, but not from relief. He was suddenly standing there alone, body shaking from the lack of release. The bassist felt Pierre pull out of him and he was about to seriously give the other a piece of his mind when he was flipped back around and lips latched onto his once again. David could taste the sweat, come (from his own mouth due to earlier) and a bit of blood from his somewhat broken lip, tongue invading his mouth as Pierre pressed his body flush up against his own. The younger of the two squirmed around at the contact, hips pressing hard against Pierre's and all he wanted to fucking know was why the other had stopped. He knew that dragging shit out made you come harder, but this was ridiculous. Kiss breaking, the singer spoke into David's lips before he got a chance to vocalize his thoughts.

"I want to see your face when you come."

That answer was beyond fine with David. Speech was definitely overrated at this point, so instead of talking, the bassist took a few steps backwards to where the bed was in the hotel room, pulling Pierre along with him. Once the backs of his legs hit the side of the bed, his knees buckled and he toppled back, Pierre following suit and climbing ontop of him. David slithered back against the covers of the bed to where the pillows were, the both of them messing up and pulling the sheets out from being tucked in their rush. Hooking a leg around his waist, David pulled the singer close, his other leg being hoisted up to rest his knee on Pierre's shoulder. The singer took a moment to adjust himself, position right up to David's entrance, but the bassist's attention slipped down from the face above him to Pierre's left arm. Reaching, his fingertips brushed over and traced the colorful designs of the tattoo sleeve on his arm, holding in tears that threatened to form in his eyes. It was another reminder that things weren't the same anymore and she, fucking she helped with that tattoo, the marks around his arm...some were made by Pierre's girlfriend and it made David's stomach twist in pain. David gasped for air, breathing hard to try and control himself as his hand grabbed hard at the other's arm, wishing he could just rip it all off.

Pierre just thought David was preparing himself to be fucked again.

He pushed in and David's focus switched to that, hissing out something along the lines of a yessss as his prostate was found immediately. The tears in his eyes disappeared, not focuing on how much his heart hurt at the moment. David's head tilted to the side and his eyes slipped shut, back arching and pushing down onto Pierre's cock as the singer found the rhythm he had going when the two of them were against the wall.

Every thrust made little groans and whimpers of pleasure fall from David's lips, his body flushing hot and it didn't take long for him to get close to the edge again. He was so hard it hurt now, aching for release. But Pierre's hands were too busy resting on the bassist's thigh and waist to help him out, not to mention he was lost in himself, eyes closed even though he said he wanted to watch David. The other's eyes fluttered open, looking up at Pierre and whimpered his name, grinding his hips down to gain his attention. The other pair of eyes opened and they locked, the singer understanding and bringing a hand up to cup David's face for one last kiss before helping him out. He leaned forward, tongues meeting long before lips, the two of them inhaling each other's gasps and pants for air once they ended up colliding. Pierre, almost lovingly, brushed back the stray strands of hair on David's face when the kiss was broken, slowing down his thrusts now and his thumb carressed the other's flushed cheek. Old habits never really die and not even thinking about it, David tilted his head into the singer's palm, pressing a kiss to the inside and Pierre's heart that was in the middle of going one-hundred miles per hour skipped a beat.

David didn't even know what he had done, too focused at how Pierre's hips halted and he was inside of him tight and pressed up hard against his prostate. His mind was switched on pause. He moaned loudly, hips rocking down against Pierre's and the singer's hand moved south, stopping to hover right above where David's heart was. He could feel it thumping hard in his chest and Pierre couldn't help but to stop and wonder about how a broken heart could still feel and function the same way like nothing had ever happened to it.

His hand found David's cock a split second later, gripping at the base tight and the bassist let out a choked moan in gratitude for finally being touched there. Pierre gave the other quick, rough strokes and tried his best to keep in time with his thrusts, David's hips rolling and bucking as he tried to find a medium movement between the two actions. He swallowed hard, holding his breath, cheeks turning a light pink color as he focused all of himself on the orgasm building up, feeling a familiar tingle start to settle in the pit of his stomach. The grip that the hand still holding onto Pierre's arm had tightened, fingernails digging into the skin. The marks that would end up appearing would probably stay hidden by the tattoo. David's other hand traveled up to the back of Pierre's neck, fingers delving into his hair and grasping tightly. Small pants appeared again as David swallowed down air that his lungs desperately needed, licking at his dry lips before a soft moan of Pierre's name dropped from them, opening his eyes to look at him.

Feeling the younger male tremble underneath him, Pierre knew David was close and his motivation to make him get to the edge got stronger. He made his thrusts deeper, the pulls at his cock a bit more frantic. On the upstroke he twisted his wrist and squeezed around the head, making sure to push into the bassist at the same time.

Looking into Pierre's eyes, David came.

There was no scream, just a soft whimper of "God yes" as he spilled over the singer's hand and his own stomach, his body arching and stilling for a moment as the orgasm took over his body in several shockwaves. The heels of David's feet dug into Pierre's back as he tried to hold on, like he was freefalling into abyss. He shivered, an electric-feeling shock running down his spine and he moaned incoherently, body in pure ecstasy as if he was riding on cloud nine and he tried his best to get his breathing back to normal. His whole body was shaking, heart pounding in his chest as he soaked in evey single feeling he felt. His lips were in a slight upturn, feeling so fucking good as he rode out his orgasm, body flushing hot as Pierre stroked him a few more times before David was completely spent.

Leaning forward and bracing himself with his hands on the bed, Pierre kissed at David's small smirk. The other kissed back softly and lazily, body too tired to accomplish such an easy task. The kiss broke as Pierre started to move inside of him again, keeping his thrusts shorter and quicker this time around. He moved his head down to nuzzle against David's cheek and kissed down his sweaty neck. He had watched the bassist come like he said he wanted too, not missing an opportunity to do so because looking on made Pierre feel fulfilled, proud that he was the cause of it all, the reason the other felt amazing and was so happy. Not to mention David looked beautiful, fucking stunning whenever he hit orgasm; pressed against the bed, sloppy hair, cheeks flushed and mouth slightly agape...that was something the singer always wanted to observe. Something about the scene wrapped around Pierre's heart and tugged, the cap of the bottle he had shoved all of his feelings into to hide away breaking off. The next words he said, he couldn't stop them before they rolled off his tongue and cut the silence that had settled between the two of them.

"I love you, David..."

Something inside of David cracked and crumbled at Pierre's words, the walls he had spent so much time building up as a fortress to keep him away, protect himself from the singer, falling down. His heart ached in his chest, a pain that was so deep that there were no words in the dictionary of any language to describe it and he choked on a sob that ripped from his throat.

"Oh God," he whimpered, letting Pierre push all the way inside of him to the hilt repetitively, recieving the only answer of the headboard of the bed slapping against the wall. He shut his eyes as a desperate attempt to keep the tears that threatened to spill out from not only the physical but emotional pain as well that cut him on the inside like a fucking knife. "Don't say that," David gasped, hands grabbing at Pierre's biceps, holding onto him tight as the older male pounded into him relentlessly. "Please don't say those words when you don't mean them..."

Pierre lifted his head from David's shoulder to look down at him, lost for words when he couldn't read the golden eyes usually staring back at him and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

"But...I do, mean it..." He tried his best not to trip over his words, sounding as sincere as he possibly could, but he was so dangerously close to the brink of orgasm that he couldn't even believe himself from the way he was sounding. Like it was some sort of 'in the moment' dialog he was so used to saying, secondhand nature almost...at least that's what David was taking it as. Pierre's thrusts got sloppier and much more uncoordinated, eyes half lidded and shrouded with lust as he continued to stare at David, but now those hazel eyes were staring back into his own, gaze cold and hard even though Pierre could see that he was hurt, vulnerable...they were glazed over with tears.

"Don't." The bassist practically snapped the word at him, eyebrows furrowing almost in disbelief like he couldn't believe it was happening to him. He really couldn't. He spent years trying to block all of this from his life and now all of these feelings, they were crashing down on him like a ton of bricks. He blinked like mad to stop the tears welling up in his eyes from rolling down his cheeks, but he was ready to break any second now. "Don't feed me lies, this wasn't what all of this was supposed to be about..."

Or wasn't it supposed to be?

David didn't even give Pierre the pleasure of answering him and instead squeezed his muscles around the singer tightly as he pushed all the way inside of him. The older male's mouth was open to give a reply, but instead, all that came out was a loud moan at the pressure build and tightness around him, coming white hot into David and the younger of the two groaned as he felt the familiarity of being filled up completely inside by the other.

A few thrusts to finish himself off and then Pierre pulled out of David, the bassist whimpering at the sudden feeling of emptyness surrounding him. The singer moved over to the side, making sure not to collapse onto the other even though it was hard to keep himself up that much longer, he lost pretty much all of the strength in his body. Rolling onto his back, Pierre's eyes looked up at the white tiles of the ceiling before letting them slip shut, breathing heavily through his nose to calm his pulse down, get his breath back. There was a sudden dip in the bed on the opposite side and his eyes snapped open in surprise, turning his head to look at David who was sitting up, leaning forward to pick up the clothes on the floor he had been wearing earlier. Pierre felt his heart shoot up into his throat before taking a plunge down into his stomach.

"David..."

The bassist didn't answer him, instead he stood up and not caring that he should take a shower first, stepped into his boxers, pulling them back on with his back still faced away from Pierre. He bent over to grab at his jeans, changing them from being inside out to the right way before slipping them back onto his legs and doing them up. Reaching up to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes, David wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and then at his eyes which started to form obvious tears. He refused to let Pierre see him cry. David refused for a lot of things that happened that night to actually happen, but he was clear cut on not letting the other see him in pain. Taking a deep breath he reached down and picked up the first shirt he saw at his feet. Pierre's. David's name was called softly from the bed again and the younger of the two squeezed his eyes shut, swallowly thickly as he tried to gain courage, scooping up the singer's pants from the floor. He spun around and chucked the articles of clothing at the bed, at Pierre.

"Get out."

His voice cracked and he felt a lump appear in his throat. He wasn't strong enough for this. Attention everybody! This was David Desrosiers breaking down. Blood thumped in his ears, his pulse picking up speed again as his heart began to race. He was angry...beyond angry and all he could hear was Pierre saying those three meaningless words echoing inside of his head. The singer's body shot up immediately, sitting up on the bed, holding the clothes thrown at him.

"David...no...wait. We need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about, Pierre. We fucked and you're supposed to be spending the night in another room with your stupid fucking girlfriend. This doesn't need an explination."

"But--"

"It's done with." David's glare cut like daggers into Pierre, turning away to walk over to the other side of the room, snatching up the crimson red shirt he shed earlier. "It's over."

The bassist heard the bed shift and covers rustle, Pierre getting dressed with the clothes David had thrown at him and the silence that followed burned right through him. Looking down at his hands, he could see that his whole body was shaking now, trying to be so strong, but he couldn't even look in Pierre's direction without faltering. The silence filled up the room for a few more moments before David heard the light padding of feet hit the floor and come in his direction. He inwardly cringed, not even daring himself to look at Pierre when the other stood right next to him. David's heart ached in his chest, he wanted so bad just to drop down to his knees infront of the singer and hold up the remains of it, begging the other to take it back, that he'd let him.

But he couldn't. Things just didn't work out that way, they couldn't. He had more dignity than that.

"I smell like sex...can I just take a shower here and then--"

"No," David cut him off sharply.

"But Lachelle's gonna know something's up if I don't clean up myself..."

That was the final crack in David's heart, the mentioning of her name and he could feel it shatter against his ribcage. It was a wonder how he was still able to stand there like nothing had happened. "It's your fucking fault you smell that way, so you deal with the concequences," he answered cooly, biting down on his bottom lip at the cut already there from previously to hold himself back.

Pierre just stood there, watching the younger man as he spoke to him, not even turning around to look at him as he talked. He opened his mouth, but words failed him, the saying "I'm sorry" not even close to being enough to fix things...if there was anything left to salvage. The words "I love you" stuck like honey to the roof of his mouth, ironic how they were able to waterfall from his lips so easily before. He reached out to touch David, hand on his shoulder, but right before they made contact, he hesitated and pulled away, pretty sure that wouldn't end too well. Ignoring the nausea beginning in the pit of his stomach, Pierre swallowed everything he was too afraid to admit, turned on his heels and exited the room.

Letting out the breath he had been holding, David let a sob rip from his throat when the door clicked shut and Pierre was out of the room. Pressing his back against the wall behind him because he wasn't strong enough to stand any longer, he slid down to the floor slowly and let out a few more dry sobs before tears painted his cheeks. On the floor, he hugged his knees to his chest, trying his best not to hyperventilate but he was taking such deep breaths and the air wasn't reaching his lungs...he couldn't control himself.

He knew there was nothing he could do to fix everything that had changed, no matter how much he wanted to.

i lie for only you, and i lie well hallelujah.