Word Count: 4781
Summary: After coming out of the closet to his friends in Canada and getting disowned by them, Pierre Bouvier moves to a hick town in the states to escape. Life is dull and grim for the twenty-one year old Canadian until he meets David Desrosiers, a young man who could change it all for the better.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, didn't happen!
Author's Note: This one is much shorter than usual, but I was very particular about what I wanted to happen in it. :)
Oh Monday mornings, how David hated them. Monday meant several things to David, none of them good. One, they meant that he hadn’t spent the previous night tucked safely in Pierre’s strong arms as he slept, because his father wasn’t allowing him to spend the night at Pierre’s apartment on school nights any longer. Two, they meant that he would have to spend another four long, lonely nights sleeping in his own bed, without Pierre’s soft scent to lull him into a peaceful slumber. Three, they meant it was only the beginning of the school week, and David would have to endure another five days of being hated by everyone in school, save for his sister and her boyfriend, who had actually stood up against the ridicule and came out as his friends since they started dating openly a month previously. Yes, Mondays were terrible.
As March settled in around the residents of Junction City, Oregon, it brought with it days of endless rain and grey skies, though David hardly noticed the weather when he was sitting on Pierre’s couch, doing his homework, or else making out with the taller, older man. When he was with Pierre, David didn’t mind the bad weather in the slightest, but as he stepped into his high school first thing in the morning, it was just another thing to add to his irritating, pointless day. He looked forward to nothing more than the moment of his graduation, which was still three months away. David couldn’t wait to never hear the words ‘Staple Face’ uttered about him ever again; June couldn’t come fast enough for him.
As he stepped into the school that grey morning, something happened to David that had never happened to him before.
“Hey David,” a senior boy called, offering a friendly smile and a nod of his head.
David stopped and started at the boy, whom he recognized immediately as a varsity football player, though he didn’t say anything. He merely shook his head slowly and continued to walk, shaking any thoughts of that random encounter from his mind. He was stopped dead in his tracks, however, when a group of three girls walked by and all greeted him as well, smiling and waving as they did.
David stared at them, his mouth hanging open slightly. What the hell was going on? Again, he didn’t respond, but simply continued to walk down the hall, intent on getting to his locker. There were still two weeks until April first… this couldn’t have been some sort of early April Fool’s prank, could it? When he continued down the hall and kept getting warm, friendly greetings from his classmates — the classmates that as of the Friday previously had all hated his guts — David started to panic slightly. It had to be a practical joke; that was all there was to it.
He got to his locker and opened it, grabbing the books he didn’t need from his backpack and putting them on the top shelf of his locker, placing them carefully next to the note Pierre had written him the morning after their first date that he still kept there. When he felt a body move next to him, David jumped and turned quickly, staring wide eyed at Troy’s beaming face.
“David, my man!” Troy greeted him, and despite the fact that David backed into the inside of his locker door in an attempt to escape him, Troy wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a friendly shake. “How’s it hangin’?”
David stared wide eyed at Troy, his entire body seizing up in fear. He would never forget the last time Troy had touched him. David’s hand found his right earlobe as he stared at Troy, who continued to stare expectantly at him, waiting for him to greet him in return as if it was nothing new. “What the fuck is going on?” David breathed, his eyes wide, scared and sad.
Troy glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot, before leaning closer and muttering, “No one’s ever gonna talk shit about you again.”
David stared at him, feeling his body relaxing somewhat, despite the fact that he knew she shouldn’t trust Troy. “What did you do?” he asked weakly.
Troy smiled tenderly down at David, causing a sick feeling to rise in David’s stomach. “I used my power of popularity to make everyone like you,” he explained with a shrug.
“How?” David asked, regarding Troy skeptically.
“Come on, Dave. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. I told everyone you’re cool and they believed me,” he told him slowly.
David’s jaw slowly dropped open, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning toward Troy in his shock. “And that worked?”
“Of course,” Troy said, clearly glad that David was warming up to him again. “All I had to do was act like it was natural, and no one contradicted me.” David continued to stare incredulously at Troy, unable to believe his ears. “You always said these people are sheep… that they’d follow anything I said and did…” Troy explained, looking around at his classmates as they passed. “I decided to try it out, and it worked.”
David could feel himself softening toward Troy in spite of himself. “What if it hadn’t worked?” he asked in a weak whisper. Troy gave him a weak smile and shrugged his shoulders. The fact that Troy had risked his own popularity to get people to like him made David’s unreasonable soft spot for Troy start to rise to the surface again, no matter how much he knew the other boy didn’t deserve it.
“It did work…” Troy started softly, and David couldn’t stop himself from smiling gently at the taller boy. “That’s all that matters.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” David told him softly.
Troy gave a soft smile and nodded his head, before looking around and seeing that they were alone in the halls now; everyone had already headed to first period, it seemed. “I told you…” Troy started, turning back to David and reaching toward him. David froze in place and stared up at Troy nervously as Troy stroked his cheek gently with his thumb. “He doesn’t care like I care,” he breathed, before dropping his hand, though his tender gaze never wavered.
“You have no idea the kind of relationship Pierre and I share,” David whispered, stepping further into his locker in an attempt to create some space between their bodies. “If you did this thinking that I’m going to come back to you, you can forget it. Take it back. Undo it. I don’t want to owe you anything,” he told him harshly.
Troy shook his head, taking a step back. “You don’t owe me anything, David,” he told him gently. “I just want you to see that I love you… and I’m willing to do anything for you. If you ever want me back… I’m here… waiting for you.” David and Troy simply stared at each other, David’s stomach twisting itself into nervous, uncomfortable knots as Troy reached forward and tucked his finger gently under David’s chin, before stepping back and starting to back slowly down the hall. “Just… keep that in mind, will ya?” he asked, before turning fully and walking away in the direction of his first class of the morning.
David stared after him, his heart pounding in fear in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to Pierre and cry in his arms because of Troy’s words and actions, but he couldn’t do that. As the bell rang overhead, David jumped and looked around, blinking tears from his eyes. He slammed his locker shut and ran to class, barely caring to apologize to the teacher for being late as he took his seat. It felt strange to be greeted as he entered the class, to have people smile and nod at him, to pat him on the shoulder as he walked by, as if he was one of them, as if they truly cared about him. And even though he knew their affection toward him wasn’t real, he couldn’t help but feel warmed by it just the same. To be accepted finally… to have people smiling at him and treating him as an actual human being… he couldn’t even describe how good it felt.
By the time he was driving from school to Pierre’s apartment, David didn’t think he’d ever felt so bizarre in his entire life. He was used to the jeering insults and the constant emotional abuse; he’d put up with it for two and a half, almost three years, after all. To be respected? It was just weird.
Pierre smiled when he heard a knock on his door and he moved to open it, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on David’s lips as he did. David beamed up at him, feeling one hundred percent right again. No matter how bizarre the day was, he could see Pierre and everything would be alright again.
“How was school?” Pierre asked as he always did, and taking David’s backpack off of his shoulder for him.
David hesitated at the question. Should he tell Pierre what had happened? He’d already kept his previous encounter with Troy a secret; would it be too much like lying to not tell him of this as well? He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, giving a shake of his head. “Nothing special,” he lied gently. He would see how the week went, and if by the following Monday people were still treating him nicely, maybe then he would tell Pierre the truth.
And, as it were, by the time Friday rolled around, people were still acting as if they had been friends with David from the beginning! David could sit at a table alone at lunch and within several minutes he would be joined by one or two other students, who talked lightly with him, as school friends often did. David couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Troy when they passed in the halls, or even occasionally talking to him when the other boy approached him; it was Troy’s fault that he was no longer hated, after all. That Friday, David even ate lunch with Troy, and for once David felt that Troy was actually being real with him outside of the bedroom. They were talking as friends, nothing more or less, and it felt amazing.
David was beaming on his way home from school that day, though a small part of him felt guilty. What would Pierre say when he found out that David had been talking to Troy? He didn’t want to lie to him about it anymore, but would his boyfriend understand? With a shake of his head, David reached over to turn the radio on, flipping through channels until a particular name made him stop and keep the station where it was.
… new single by Sebastien Lefebvre, called Hello My Friend…
David’s eyes widened and he instantly turned up the radio, completely forgetting about Troy. He grinned like an idiot the whole time the song played, even though the lyrics were actually pretty sad. He listened carefully, taking in the meaning of those words. He wondered who Sebastien had lost as a friend, who he was missing, who he was apologizing to through the song. Part of him felt sad for Sebastien, but the upbeat feel of the song kept him smiling and swaying his head from side to side in a peaceful manner. When he got to Pierre’s apartment and parked his truck, he practically ran up the stairs. He knocked rapidly, bouncing on his heels as he waited for Pierre to open the door. When the door opened and Pierre was smiling down at him, David ran past him and plopped immediately down on the couch, leaving Pierre standing at the door and staring at him, completely stupefied.
“Well hello to you, too,” Pierre said with a smirk as he closed and locked the door. David’s fast fingers had already grabbed Pierre’s small laptop and pulled up youtube by the time Pierre sat next to him on the couch. “What now?” Pierre asked with a sigh.
“Have you heard Sebastien’s new song?!” David asked frantically, his fingers flying over the keys and typing Sebastien’s name in the search bar faster than Pierre had ever witnessed anyone type. Pierre stared at David with wide eyes, who turned to look at Pierre quickly. Pierre shook his head, that stunned look still on his features, and David huffed and looked back at the screen, practically spasming when he found the video he was looking for. Pierre tried to stifle his laughter, but didn’t have much luck. When David turned to glare at him, Pierre bit his lips together and tried to look apologetic, but he just couldn’t manage to get that smile off of his face. “Listen!” David said urgently as he clicked on a link.
Pierre sighed and looked at the screen, seeing Sebastien sitting in a chair with a guitar in front of him, smiling at the camera. Again, sadness was tingling in the pit of his stomach, but he took a deep breath and did his best to ignore it.
“Hey, it’s Sebastien… obviously…” he started, and David grinned and laughed, muttering about how the man always started his videos that way. Pierre flashed David a soft smile before looking back at the screen. He noticed the happy, carefree look that normally adorned Sebastien’s face wasn’t there; instead, he looked a little bit sad. “I’m gonna play a new song, it should be coming out on the radio and on iTunes in a couple weeks, it’s called Hello My Friend. It’s just a shout out to an old friend that I haven’t talked to in a while. I just wanna say… I miss you…” He gave a sad smile before looking down momentarily at his guitar. “So! Hello My Friend! Keep an eye out for this one, should be out soon…”
Pierre’s facial features dropped and he stared at the screen, his mouth hanging open slightly, his eyes blank. Could Sebastien have been sending him a message? He shook those thoughts from his mind, telling himself that Sebastien had probably made plenty of friends since becoming famous, and that he was probably talking to one of them. Still, as Sebastien began to play and he listened to the words, Pierre knew that there was no one else he could have been singing to. The words he was using, the things he was talking about; Pierre just knew in his heart that this song was meant for him.
“This came out, like, two and a half weeks ago and I didn’t even notice?!” David demanded as he turned to look at Pierre.
Pierre blinked rapidly to clear his watery eyes, hoping that David wouldn’t notice. He shrugged and smiled before looking off to the side, turning his face as far away from David as was possible without looking awkward.
“I wonder if he’s singing to Patrick!” David speculated quickly.
Pierre gave a soft laugh and turned back to David. “What makes you think that?” he asked gently.
“Well… they should’ve started a new season of Man of the Hour by now, and they haven’t yet!” David complained indignantly.
“So! They didn’t say that last season was the last, and they advertised for the new one, but it just never started! What if they got in a fight and broke up?!”
Pierre sighed and shook his head slowly before bracing himself to look back at his old friend, his stomach clenching at the sad look on Sebastien’s face as Sebastien moved into the chorus of the song, which was a literal question: Where are you? Perhaps anybody else would take it as a figurative question, to mean where are you in life, or why aren’t you in my life anymore, but Pierre thought that in this case Sebastien meant it literally. Pierre shook his head and stood, unable to take anymore.
He’d been fine with Sebastien. He’d been fine with the things that had happened and the way things had ended, because they brought him to David, but now Sebastien was apologizing to him? Now Sebastien was admitting that he missed him? He was telling Pierre that he wanted to know where he was? Admitting that they weren’t the same? That he was upset about the way things had ended? Pierre didn’t know if he wanted to cry or hit something, or maybe he wanted to do both.
“Pierre? What’s wrong?” David asked, his brow furrowing as he watched Pierre walking away from him.
“Nothing,” Pierre lied softly, and that urge for a cigarette jumped into his throat. He hadn’t had one since he’d promised David that he would quit, but now it was something he wanted more than almost anything else. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, telling himself to ignore that particular urge, and instead he moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer.
“Why are you lying to me?” David asked as he stood and walked over to Pierre. When he watched Pierre grab a bottle opener and pop the top off of his beer, his eyebrows raised, and he stared skeptically at his boyfriend. “You’re drinking?” he asked.
“Mhm,” Pierre mumbled against the bottle as he took a drink.
David took a step closer, putting his hand gently on Pierre’s arm. “It’s only three thirty in the afternoon,” he said softly. Pierre didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at David, he didn’t put his bottle down; he simply closed his eyes and willed Sebastien’s face and his words out of his mind while simultaneously trying to keep himself from breaking down and crying. David had never seen him cry, and he intended to keep it that way, God damn it. “What’s wrong?” David asked.
“Nothing,” Pierre told him again calmly.
“Pierre, I know you… I know when something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine, David,” Pierre told him, his voice growing stern.
“Why are you lying to me? Just tell me what’s wrong!” David insisted.
Pierre felt his irritation growing even faster with every attempt David made to pry into his mind. “It’s nothing!” he yelled, slamming his beer down on the counter and stepping out of David’s touch. “Okay?! I’m fine!”
Hurt and fear registered in David’s eyes, though those feelings were soon replaced with anger and indignation. He didn’t have to be afraid of Pierre — never in a million years would Pierre physically hurt him — therefore he could get angry at him. “It’s not nothing!”
"How do you know?" Pierre asked quickly.
"Because after dating you for two months, I like to think I know a little bit about you!" David responded heatedly.
Pierre shook his head, laughing on the inside at how much there still was about himself that David didn't know. "You think so, huh?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah, I do," David retorted. When Pierre scoffed and shook his head, taking another drink, David took a deep breath and clenched his jaw, willing himself not to hit his boyfriend. "Well, you're being a pretty big tool right now, so obviously something's not right!"
"Oh, I'm a tool?" Pierre asked condescendingly. "Really? A tool?"
"Shut up," David said as he looked down.
"Ooh, shut up! What's next? I'm rubber you're glue?" he asked before picking up his beer bottle again and taking another drink. "God, I haven't been called a tool since I was in high school."
"Well I'm in high school, Pierre!" David screamed suddenly. "Get over it and stop being all condescending just because you're older than me!"
"Don't insult me like a twelve year old and maybe I won't," Pierre said with a shrug.
"God, why are you being this way?" David asked weakly. Pierre shrugged again, taking another drink of his beer. David grabbed the bottle from his hand and threw it, not flinching as it smashed against the kitchen cabinet, beer and glass shooting all over the floor.
"What the fuck?!" he screamed, staring at David with an open mouth.
"Stop ignoring me and stop drinking in the middle of the day like a fucking loser!"
"That doesn't make me a loser," Pierre spat at him, taking a step closer. "That makes me a grown up."
David’s jaw dropped and he scoffed loudly. If he had felt angry before, it was nothing to how he was feeling in that moment. Pierre's words made him absolutely livid. “A grown up?” he asked, his voice low and shaking with anger.
“Yeah, you know, what you’ll be some day,” Pierre continued spitefully.
“Excuse me?” David asked incredulously. "If you think I'm so immature, why are you dating me?" Pierre shook his head and looked away, unable to think of a single word to say in response. "Don't look away from me!" David demanded. "I'm fucking talking to you!"
"Always have to have all the attention on you, don't you David?" Pierre asked, and despite David's wishes, Pierre was walking away from him, moving back to the living room.
"Yeah, that's right, because I'm twelve years old. I'm an angsty, emo kid who needs contstant attention or I'm not happy," David responded sarcastically. He stared at Pierre's back as Pierre dug in his desk drawer, and suddenly David was afraid of what he was going to get. When he heard a metallic click, however, David's jaw fell open and he took a step back, unable to believe what Pierre had just done. Pierre turned around, taking a deep drag off of his cigarette in the middle of his apartment for the sole purpose of being even more of an asshole. "I can't believe you just did that," David breathed, shaking his head slowly.
"Someday you'll understand, kid," Pierre said with a shrug.
"Kid?" David said incredulously. He stared hard at Pierre, completely shocked by this side of him. He'd seen only little flashes of Pierre's angry side, never the whole ugly monster; it was worse than he could have ever imagined. "Something's wrong," he said softly, his brow furrowed.
"Sometimes nothing's wrong," Pierre responded harshly.
"This isn't you," David whispered. "You're not like this!"
"You know what? Maybe this is me. Maybe you've just had your head too stuck in Magical-Teenager-Land to notice!"
"Magical-Teenager-Land," David breathed, his eyes filling with tears. He took a step back, shaking his head slowly. "You know what? I think you're right. This isn't gonna work anymore," he whispered as a tear slid across his cheek.
"W-what?" Pierre whispered, feeling his anger crashing immediately to be replaced by fear. "Are you breaking up with me?"
"Glad to see you're finally listening," David whispered, taking another step back.
"David, please... I... I didn't mean it," Pierre told him quickly, and suddenly he felt disgusted with all of the things he said and the fact that he held a cigarette in his fingers. He walked hurriedly back to David, throwing the cigarette in his kitchen sink before grabbing onto David's arms.
David instantly seized up as the memory of what Troy had done to him surged through his mind. "Let go of me," he whispered frantically.
"David, please don't do this," Pierre whispered, and instead of letting go of David, he stepped closer to him.
David's eyes widened further and he pushed against Pierre, fear taking over his body entirely. "Please! Let go of me!" he cried desperately.
Pierre's hands were shaking as he stepped back, not stopping until he backed into the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry," Pierre whispered.
David stared at him for a moment longer before walking quickly to the door and leaving, rushing down the stairs and to his truck, tears flowing steadily down his cheeks. He got in his truck and drove. Where? He didn't know where he would end up. All he knew was he needed comfort and for the first time since their first date, Pierre's arms wasn't the place to find it.
Pierre stood and stared at his front door, feeling as if the floor had just fallen out from underneath his feet. Slowly he took a step back, hardly able to breathe as his eyes filled with tears. Were he and David really over? Had David just broken up with him and walked out of his life forever? Shaking, he walked back to the couch and sat down, staring at the video on his laptop, which was paused halfway through. Pierre felt his anger welling up inside of him the longer he stared at Sebastien’s face, the more he thought of everything he’d just stupidly said to his boyfriend, things that he didn’t even mean but obviously bothered David. With a scream of anger, Pierre picked up his laptop and threw it across the room, watching with vindictive pleasure as it smashed against the wall.
He stood in one place, panting, staring hard at his mangled piece of a laptop on the ground, and without being able to stop it, the tears came. Slowly he sat down on the floor and brought his knees to his chest before hiding his face in them and letting go. He allowed himself to cry out everything he’d felt over the past several years; the pain of Sebastien and Patrick, how badly he missed his parents, watching David cry after being beaten and raped, and now this, the end of his perfect relationship with the perfect person, all because he couldn’t handle just coming out and telling the truth about everything. It was his own fault he was where he was, and God, did he hate himself for it.
David’s hands were shaking as he stood in front of a familiar front door, not sure of why he had chosen to go there in the first place. Was he weak for falling back on this comfort? He closed his eyes and knocked, waiting with bated breath for the door to open. When it did and he heard his name being spoken, David didn’t do anything at first.
“David?” Troy asked again, taking a step onto the front porch. David opened his eyes and stared up at Troy, his hazel eyes swimming with tears. “What are you doing here?” Troy asked quietly.
David stared at him for a long moment, his heart pounding in his chest, before he parted his lips ever so slightly and whispered, “I don’t know.” Slowly he looked away and pushed past Troy, making his way into his house without saying another word. Troy stood at the doorway for a moment, before following after David, closing the door behind him.
Several hours went by while Pierre sat on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He sighed heavily before raising the bottle to his lips again, making a slight face of discomfort as the liquid burned at the back of his throat. He wanted nothing more than to call David, to tell him he was sorry, to beg for his forgiveness, but would David even answer if he called him? Would he take his apology? Pierre thought that maybe he should just show up at his house on his knees, allowing his tears to flow freely down his cheeks as he pleaded shamelessly. Maybe David would listen then.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Pierre sat up straight, his eyes widening. “David,” he said quickly as he stood, rather steady on his feet for someone who had been sipping on whiskey for the past two hours. As he walked into the kitchen, he grabbed the pack of cigarettes he’d just smoked the first half of and threw it in the garbage, hoping that David wouldn’t notice he’d relapsed, before stowing the whiskey in the freezer and heading to the door. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, telling himself to just act naturally, before opening the door.
He stood in the open door for several long seconds, his mind in a complete state of shock. Was he drunker than he thought he was? Those blue eyes didn’t look like David’s eyes. That short brown hair didn’t look like David’s hair. He couldn’t believe who was standing in his doorway… and yet… there he was, his eyes wide and sad, his stance weak and defeated, as if he’d never felt more terrible and sorry in his entire life. He stood in front of Pierre, apologetic, clearly begging for understanding just from the look on his face.