Word Count: 10,146
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: OMG. DAVID LISTENS TO LADY GAGA!!!!!!! Ahem. Just saying.
“Come on guys!” Sebastien yelled through the bathroom door, pounding hard on it with his fist. “We’re gonna be late!” He heard a muffled yelp and knew that it had come from David. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he walked back and sat down on the couch, his foot coming to rest on his knee and bouncing restlessly. It was the day of David’s high school graduation, and even though they were supposed to be leaving in five minutes time, of course David and Pierre weren’t ready. Not only were they not ready, but they weren’t even dressed! They were still standing in the shower, probably making out or jerking each other off! He sighed again at the thought, feeling more irritated by that. Not only were they going to make them late for David’s graduation, but they even got sexual pleasure out of doing it? And what was he doing? Sitting on the couch, alone, frustrated, and angry.
He looked up when the bathroom door opened, though suddenly he wished he hadn’t. Pierre walked out of the bathroom, followed closely by David, and both of them were dripping with water and wearing nothing more than towels, which were hanging low on their hips. He stared at Pierre’s body as he walked by, his mouth hanging slightly open, his pulse beating hard against his temple. And then David; his hands reached forward and wrapped around Pierre from behind as they walked, his fingers pressing into Pierre’s toned stomach. The way that they touched brought a burning sensation to the pit of Sebastien’s stomach, and breathing was suddenly much more difficult.
“You okay there, Seb?” Pierre asked with a knowing grin.
Sebastien’s eyes snapped up to Pierre’s and he stared at him, his cheeks tinted pink with a combination of embarrassment and sexual stimulation. “Yeah, fine,” Sebastien squeaked, and Pierre and David only smiled wider. “Fuck you, hurry up,” he grumbled, turning his face pointedly away.
“Alright, alright,” Pierre said, before grabbing David’s hand and pulling him into their bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him.
Giving another sigh, Sebastien sat back and stared off to the side, his body slumping slightly. Why did David and Pierre have to be so fucking hot all the time? Why did they have to walk around half naked and touching each other? Why did they have to make his groin hurt every God damn day? Sebastien was starting to seriously wonder how much longer he could live with them, how much longer he could spend his days alone, watching David and Pierre being happy, falling in love… oh, and of course, every night they fucked like bunnies in Spring. Sebastien just didn’t know how much more his poor broken heart could take.
A short, light knock came on the door, and Sebastien’s brow furrowed. He had no idea who could have been at the door. Probably Martin, he thought, and he pulled himself up from the couch and made the short walk to the living room door. He’d thought that Martin was meeting them at the school — because Pierre had asked him to come, so that David would have more than three people there for him at this graduation: Yael, Sebastien and Pierre — but maybe he’d changed his mind? He hardly thought about it as he pulled open the door, looking off to the side at first, though when he turned and looked at who was standing in the doorway, he felt his heart drop immediately into his stomach.
Patrick was standing in front of Sebastien, his eyes wide, his arms held stiffly at his sides, as if asking himself if he was seriously standing there, preparing himself to say what he thought he was going to say. He’d been in town for two weeks now, spending time in his hotel room and trying to find the courage to go to the address he had scrawled on that crumpled up piece of paper in his pocket. Every time he’d told himself he was going to do it, he’d ended up finding some excuse as to why he couldn’t do it. But now he seemed to have finally run out of excuses. And so here he was, standing in front of Sebastien, absolutely lost for words. The two were just staring at each other, neither moving, neither speaking.
Pierre opened his bedroom door and closed it behind him, as David was still running around their bedroom naked, trying to find the perfect clothes, even though they would be hidden under his maroon graduation gown. He was still halfway through pulling his shirt over his head when he came to a stop in the living room, and he too got stuck in Patrick’s stare. Patrick’s mouth fell slowly open as he looked at Pierre, someone he hadn’t seen in four years, who had just come out of a bedroom pulling a t-shirt on. His eyes darted between Pierre and Sebastien several times, his look of incredulous hurt intensifying with each passing second. “HIM?!” he yelled, pointing quickly at Pierre. “I turned you down so you came to HIM?!”
“Pat, it’s not—” Sebastien started, but Patrick shook his head and cut him off.
“So this is what you came here for?! I was wondering, but, GOD!” Patrick yelled, his body growing hot.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Pierre asked him angrily, walking quickly over to where the two were standing in the doorway. “After everything you did, you’re gonna come here and start yelling at us?!”
The word ’us’ triggered something in Patrick, like pushing a big red button labeled ’jealousy’, and before he’d even thought about it, his right fist had come hard across the left side of Pierre’s face. Pierre spun to the ground and landed hard on his knees, his head spinning. “What the fuck?!” Sebastien yelled, taking a quick step back.
But Patrick wasn’t letting Sebastien move away from him that easily. He stepped forward and grabbed hard onto Sebastien’s face, not giving him a second’s warning before he was kissing him. Sebastien’s brow furrowed and he pushed against Patrick’s chest, not wanting to be kissing him, though within a matter of seconds his body was going limp in his arms and he was kissing him back, his fingers pressing desperately against the other man. His lips parted and instantly his tongue was met with Patrick’s; nothing could stop the desperate moan that escaped the back of his throat as he wrapped his arms around Patrick’s neck and pulled himself hard against his body, and Patrick’s hands moved from his face to grab hard at Sebastien’s sides.
A loud, excited squeal sounded through the small apartment and Sebastien and Patrick pulled apart quickly. Patrick turned to look, seeing a teenage boy coming out of the same room he’d seen Pierre come from, wearing tight black jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. Sebastien, however, couldn’t stop himself from staring at Patrick, his arms still wrapped around the man’s neck, his mouth hanging open. David was bouncing up and down, squealing indistinguishable words, with a five month old puppy the size of a medium sized dog bouncing around him, barking wildly.
“Who the fuck is this?!” Patrick asked frantically.
Pierre picked himself up from the floor, pressing the back of his hand to his jaw and glaring hard at Patrick. “My boyfriend,” he said stiffly.
Patrick stared at Pierre with his mouth hanging open for a moment, before giving a soft, “Oohhh…” He grimaced lightly, his discomfort and regret apparent on his face. “…sorry…” he muttered awkwardly. He looked back to Sebastien, unable to keep himself from looking at him, despite the fact that David was still squealing and jumping around in circles like a teenage girl. “I love you, Sebastien,” he said quickly, his eyes searching Sebastien’s gorgeous blue ones for any sign that the man still felt the same way. “Please, I’m so sorry about everything, just… give me a second chance,” he begged weakly.
Sebastien stared helplessly at Patrick, his fingers playing in his short brown hair, his eyes swimming with tears. “Pat… I-I…”
“Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” David squealed repeatedly, bouncing up and down and grinning as the dog hopped around him in circles.
“Guys? We don’t have time for this,” Pierre pointed out, staring between Patrick and Sebastien nervously. “DAVID, SHUT UP!” he yelled, turning to face David quickly. David closed his mouth and bit his lips together instantly, though he couldn’t stop the bouncing. “Do you wanna go graduate?” David shook his head, not wanting to leave now in the slightest. He was staring at Patrick Langlois, who had just been kissing Sebastien Lefebvre. Suddenly the fact that he’d been close friends with Sebastien for about three months now meant nothing to David.
“Graduate, wait, what?” Patrick muttered quickly, his eyes widening.
“Yeah,” Pierre said stiffly, glaring hard at Patrick. His jaw really hurt, after all.
“Like… like from college, right?” Patrick asked slowly.
“Come on, does he look like he’s in college?” Sebastien asked breathlessly; he just couldn’t stop staring at Patrick.
Patrick looked from David, taking in his obvious youth, to Pierre, staring at him incredulously, and finally back to Sebastien. His gaze softened as he looked into the other man’s eyes, wanting to kiss him again, though now that Pierre and his new boy toy were watching, he suddenly felt shy. Pierre watched his friends carefully, not liking the look in Sebastien’s eyes. He was going to forgive Patrick without a second thought, he just knew it, and something about that didn’t feel right to Pierre. He didn’t think that Patrick deserved Sebastien’s forgiveness.
With a sigh, Pierre walked over to David and grabbed onto him. “Where’s your graduation cap and gown?” he asked sternly.
“Um… in the closet,” David muttered, not taking his eyes away from Patrick and Sebastien, who were simply standing in each others arms staring at each other.
Pierre rolled his eyes and walked into their room, grabbing the two items in question, before heading back out and grabbing onto David’s arm. “Come on David, let’s go to the car,” he said sternly.
“But! But!” David whined, trying to resist Pierre’s pull.
“Are you coming, Seb?” Pierre asked, ignoring David’s protests.
“I’ll meet you there,” Sebastien said quietly, his swimming eyes still searching Pat’s.
“Don’t be late…” Pierre muttered slowly.
“I promise, I won’t miss it,” Sebastien told him, his voice not taking on any firmer tone than before.
“Why not? Let’s just skip it!” David suggested wildly, still working his hardest to pull against Pierre and stay in the apartment.
“David, we’re not skipping your graduation!” Pierre said firmly.
“Oh come on! This is way better! And I don’t care about that stupid school or my stupid classmates! Half of them hate me because I’m gay and the other half only wanna be my friend because of Sebastien!” he explained frantically. “Plus, this stupid hat’s gonna mess up my hair and maroon is so not my color!”
Pierre rolled his eyes but continued to pull David toward the door. “Oh please, David. Anything’s your color.”
“Wow, you’re really freakin’ gay, aren’t you, kid?” Patrick asked with an amused smile.
David’s eyes widened and his cheeks instantly flushed bright red. He tried to respond but nothing other than a loud squeak came out, causing Patrick to laugh, Pierre to growl and roll his eyes, and Sebastien still continued to stare at Patrick. Would he ever be able to stop looking at him?
“Come on, David, we’re going,” Pierre said stiffly, not pausing to look back at Patrick or Sebastien as he opened the front door and began to pull David through it.
“But!” David whined, craning his neck to try and keep Sebastien and Patrick in his view. Pierre gave another irritated growl and shoved David’s graduation cap on his head, pushing it down and covering his eyes. “Hey! My hair!” David complained indignantly.
“Yeah yeah, you can fix it in the car,” Pierre grumbled, before pulling him the rest of the way out and shutting the door behind him.
Patrick and Sebastien stood in silence, still standing in each others arms, Patrick staring at the closed door. Sebastien heard him give a shaky breath and knew that Patrick was nervous. Slowly, Pat turned to look at Sebastien, giving him a soft, apologetic smile. “So that’s why you came here? To find Pierre?” Patrick guessed quietly. Sebastien nodded weakly, unable to stop his fingers playing in Patrick’s soft, brown hair. “And nothing ever happened between you two?” Patrick continued, sounding a little bit more than hopeful at that. Sebastien chewed nervously on his bottom lip, his eyes flickering away, and shock and pain registered on Patrick’s features. “So, what, you were in love with me but just like that, you came here and hooked up with him?” Patrick snapped.
Sebastien looked back up, glaring incredulously at Patrick. “You’re gonna yell at me right now?” Sebastien asked as he stepped back and let his arms slide from around Patrick’s neck. Patrick opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sebastien held up a hand and shook his head. “No, fuck you!” he said heatedly. “You could’ve had me, but you didn’t want me. You rejected me! You freaked out on me! Even though you kissed me back! And now you think you can come here and find me after five months and everything’s just gonna be okay?! That you’re just gonna waltz into my life and sweep me off my feet and tell me you love me and kiss me and it’s gonna be like nothing ever happened?!”
Patrick stood and stared at Sebastien, his mouth hanging open as he stared at him. “Seb, I-I’m sorry!” Patrick tried to defend himself, but Sebastien shook his head and stepped further away from him.
“What took you so long?!” Sebastien hurtled at him.
“Look, this isn’t easy, okay?” Patrick retorted heatedly. “But I’m trying to make it right. You want me to apologize to Pierre for everything, I will! You want me to apologize to you, I will! Just tell me how I can make this better!”
Sebastien shook his head and looked away, tears welling in his eyes. “You can’t,” he whispered.
“What?” Patrick breathed, taking a step forward and reaching out to place his hand on Sebastien’s upper arm.
Sebastien shook his head and pulled away from his touch, keeping his eyes averted. “I can’t just forget what you did to me,” he said weakly. “I can’t. The way you reacted…”
Sebastien’s eyes slid closed as the memory of that day almost five months previously rushed through his mind. He could remember the moment perfectly, walking up on Patrick, who was sitting at the computer in the Man of the Hour studio. He had placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder when he walked in, and Patrick had turned and smiled at him, before going back to the computer. “I have something to show you,” Sebastien had said to him; he remembered thinking that Patrick must have been able to hear the nerves in his voice, because the other man had flashed him a curious look, though his gaze had switched back to the computer as Sebastien had leaned over and began to find something in a folder on the desktop. He wondered if he had ever felt so nervous as he pulled up a song that he’d recorded, one of the few that he had ever recorded without running the idea by Patrick first. It had been important for this song to be perfect before Patrick heard it; Sebastien had written it for him, after all. Nervously, Sebastien had taken a seat in the computer chair next to Patrick, his hand still resting on his friend’s shoulder.
As the song began to play, Patrick had stared at the computer screen, his mind working over the words that his friend was singing and what they meant, though he couldn’t have known they were for him. Something in him changed, however, when Sebastien’s hand began to slide slowly from his shoulder and down his arm. Sebastien could remember perfectly the feel of Patrick’s muscles tensing under his fingertips, though their presence was so light it was a wonder the other man could even feel it. His fingers didn’t falter in their descent of Patrick’s arm until they got to his wrist. Sebastien could remember seeing goosebumps raise on the other man’s arm, and though Patrick hadn’t turned to look at him yet, he could tell just by looking at him that his friend had stopped breathing. Nervously, he had placed his hand on top of Patrick’s, his fingers carefully curling around the other man’s hand and holding it timidly. It had felt like a reassurance when Patrick’s hand had gripped onto his in return.
And then he turned his head slowly, his eyes round as saucers and his cheeks tinged a light shade of pink; sitting so close to him, Sebastien didn’t think that Patrick had ever looked more beautiful as in that moment. There was something about the way his shaggy brown hair fell against his forehead, or the way his gorgeous eyes, though wide with nerves, stared searchingly into his own. “And no one will find out,” Sebastien had begun to sing with the song, his voice soft and nervous. “I know without a doubt. The things we figure out, we’ll never talk about…” he trailed off gently, his voice shaking slightly, and though the song moved into the second verse, Sebastien didn’t continue to sing. Without being able to help it, Sebastien had begun to lean forward; his heart seemed to jump into his throat when he watched Patrick tilting his head ever so slightly and leaning toward him in return. The act of moving into this kiss had been straight out of the movies; a slow, awkward, nervous approach, hesitation apparent on both sides, though the moment their faces leaned forward and up just enough, and their lips lightly pressed together, everything had seemed to change at once.
The soft, innocent kiss had lasted only a matter of short seconds before things sped up; the feel of Patrick’s hands grabbing onto his face and pulling him closer was still burned into Sebastien’s memory, and if he closed his eyes and thought hard enough about it, it was almost as if the other man was actually touching him again. Six years of building sexual tension and mutual attraction had lead to that moment; really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Sebastien when he felt Patrick pulling him forward onto his lap. And he had followed Patrick’s every cue without a moment’s hesitation or thought; it was everything he had been wanting for years, everything he’d been telling himself that he couldn’t have, and could never seek out. Yet there he had been, sitting on Patrick’s lap, straddling his hips, his tongue kneading against Patrick’s in a fiery battle for dominance, one that had made Sebastien’s head spin and his chest soar. Sebastien couldn’t honestly remember ever feeling more incredulously happy than he had in that moment.
And then he’d done something to ruin it all — something to stop the perfect moment in its tracks. As a soft moan had escaped the back of Patrick’s throat and had been swallowed in his mouth, Sebastien had felt helpless against the actions of his own hand. His hand had traveled slowly down Patrick’s body, his fingers wanting to feel every inch of the other man, before moving between them and rubbing hard against the front of Patrick’s jeans, grabbing a handful of him and squeezing as he moved it quickly back up. Patrick’s eyes had opened wide, his lips had disconnected, and suddenly Sebastien had found himself on the floor, staring up at the other man with hurt in his eyes. Patrick was up and across the room faster than Sebastien had ever seen anyone move before in his life.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” he had yelled at Sebastien, his arms crossing insecurely around his stomach.
Sebastien could still feel the pain he had felt as he’d stared up at Patrick from the floor, as if it was a knife twisting in his stomach, one that he had yet to pull out, even five months later. “Pat, I—” he started, pulling himself shakily from the floor.
“No! Don’t come near me!” Patrick had yelled at him, moving further away from him.
“P-Pat… I love you,” Sebastien had breathed as he began to move toward him, speaking these words in a desperate attempt to get Patrick to calm down, to see that they were meant to be together, that Patrick loved him too. His words seemed to have the opposite affect on him, however.
“Stay away from me, faggot!” Patrick had yelled frantically, backing more quickly away, before turning and running out the door without another word, or a single look back. Sebastien had never felt anything like the pain he’d felt in that moment, and he had lost the ability to stand entirely. How long had he sat on the floor, curled into himself and crying? How long had he sat there, wishing that Patrick would come back, not even wishing that he would apologize, just wanting him to come back and act like it had never happened. Sebastien had wanted comfort, had wanted someone to come make everything better, and a pair of dark brown eyes popped into his mind. In that moment, he thought he must’ve known what Pierre had felt that day behind the school when he’d kissed Sebastien, and Sebastien had reacted in the same way as Patrick had just done to him. His love for Patrick had gotten him to go along with the other boy. He’d given up his best friend for the guy of his dreams and in that moment… he hadn’t had either.
“I hate myself for reacting like that,” Patrick told Sebastien honestly, pulling him back to the present and out of his thoughts. Sebastien’s eyes opened and he turned to look at Patrick, noticing now just how close they were standing. Patrick had walked up behind him and placed a hand on the back of his neck, his head dipped down so that his lips were barely three inches from Sebastien’s cheek. As Patrick’s thumb stroked gently against the base of Sebastien’s neck and he leaned forward to graze his nose lightly against his cheek, Sebastien’s eyes fell closed again and he took a shaky breath. Patrick moved to stand in front of Sebastien and carefully he reached his other hand up to cup the other man’s cheek. Sebastien leaned his face down into Patrick’s hand, fighting against the tears that were welling up in his closed eyes. “Please, give me another chance,” Patrick asked softly.
Sebastien wanted to say yes. He wanted to jump into Patrick’s arms and kiss him and tell him he loved him and beg that he never let go, but was he going to do that? With a heavy sigh, Sebastien shook his head and stepped back, out of Patrick’s touch for the second time that day. He didn’t stop moving until he felt the back of his legs hit the couch and he sat down on the arm, looking down. “Pat, I can’t,” Sebastien told him softly. Slowly he looked up, hating the pain he saw in Patrick’s eyes, yet knowing that the man deserved to be feeling it. “If you’re coming back into my life, it’s gonna be as a friend,” he added, his voice getting a bit more firm, a bit less emotional, though his eyes were still wet as he stared at the man whom he’d dreamed about so many nights.
“So… that’s it?” Patrick asked weakly. “I don’t have any options?”
“No, you have two options here,” Sebastien told him firmly. “You can accept that, be my friend again, apologize to Pierre and come to this graduation with me…” he trailed off softly, not wanting to speak the last sentence that he knew he had to speak. “…or, you can leave now and never come back.” The two stared at each other for several long, painful seconds. “Make your choice, because I have somewhere I have to be right now,” Sebastien added, standing slowly.
Patrick swallowed hard and nodded, his gaze slowly traveling to the floor. “Are you sure this kid would want some random dude at his graduation?” he asked uncertainly.
Sebastien couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Patrick was giving him his answer by saying this: he didn’t want to leave. “Dude, you saw how he reacted when he saw you,” Sebastien pointed out fairly. “I’m surprised he didn’t maul you for your autograph.”
Pat gave a watery chuckle and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, still looking down. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Sebastien approached Patrick slowly, staring nervously at him. With a shaking hand, he reached out and patted the other man’s shoulder a few times. Patrick looked up slowly, that burning desire rearing up in his chest, telling him to lean forward and kiss Sebastien again, but he fought against it. If Sebastien only wanted to be friends, Patrick wasn't going to push himself on him. He’d already tried to live without the other man in his life, and things hadn’t gone well for him. “Tu m'as manqué, Sébastien,” Patrick breathed softly, unable to help himself.
Sebastien's hand traveled to rest on Patrick’s cheek and he nodded softly, his eyes flickering to the other man’s lips. “Moi aussi,” he replied simply. Sebastien gave a shaky breath and pulled away, his fingertips tingling in a pleasant manner, though his heart was aching for the other man. “Come on, let’s go,” he said quietly, and Patrick nodded and followed after him, feeling as if a metal rod had been shoved through his stomach at how wrong this whole situation had gone. Sebastien was supposed to fall into his arms and never let go. He was supposed to kiss Patrick and tell him he forgave him without a second thought. The choices Sebastien had given him — be my friend or leave — hurt more than he could’ve known, and part of him wondered why he had bothered to find the other man. Then again, wasn’t it better to have Sebastien in his life as a friend than not at all? Still, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy giving Sebastien his space, not now that he knew what he wanted. Not going after his friend was going to prove to be the hardest thing he would ever have to do.
The graduation wasn’t a long one; there was a graduating class of about sixty it seemed, which was ridiculously tiny compared to the high school in Montreal that Pierre, Sebastien and Patrick had all graduated from. The speeches were the same as at any high school graduation, all with the same essential message: “We came as strangers, we’re leaving as friends.” Pierre couldn’t have thought that the message could’ve been any more wrong if they tried. What kind of friends bullied each other? What kind of friends took pleasure in watching one student beat another student to a bloody pulp? What kind of friends pretended to like a kid just because he happened to be on first name terms with a famous rockstar? Pierre would’ve liked very much to beat every one of David’s classmates, except for maybe Chuck — who was incidentally David’s walking partner — and Yael — who was sitting on Pierre’s immediate right. He turned to flash the fourteen year old a smile, who smiled back sweetly before looking ahead again. Really, for a fourteen year old girl, Yael wasn’t bad.
Pierre felt himself tense when Troy’s name was called, one of the very first students to receive his diploma as his last name started with a B, and they were calling names in alphabetical order. He glared hard at Troy, his arms crossing over his chest. This was the boy that he wanted to beat until he stopped moving more than anyone else who had ever said anything mean to David. Why? Because this boy actually meant something to David, and he hated that more than he could describe. Sebastien’s words from the month previously rang through his mind as he watched him swagger across the stage and take his diploma, shaking hands with the principal for good measure. Did they really look alike? Was tall, handsome jock with brown hair and big brown eyes really David’s type of guy? He turned to glance at Sebastien, noticing as he did that Sebastien was leaned over to Pat, whispering in his ear and pointing at Troy. Great, he thought with a sigh, before looking forward again. He’s probably telling him all about it, his mind told him cynically. When he saw Patrick looking at him from the corner of his eye, Pierre sighed and looked further away; this just proved what he’d just told himself. He stared at the back of David’s head, who was easily recognizable with his jet black hair, and smiled softly to himself. He may have held a strange resemblance to Troy, but the two were nothing alike. David had chosen Pierre, and that was good enough for him.
The scene when David had walked on stage in his maroon cap and gown to get his diploma was positively explosive. Yael, Pierre, Martin, Sebastien, and even Patrick all clapped, cheered, whooped and whistled, drawing quite a lot of attention to themselves and effectively turning David’s face the same color as his outfit. The fact that Sebastien Lefebvre — joined now by Patrick Langlois — was in the crowd cheering for David Desrosiers did not go unnoticed. None of them paid attention to the muttering or pointing, however. They were simply there for David, who had grabbed his diploma and practically bolted off stage, not bothering to look at the crowd or shake the principals hand or any of the other normal stuff teenagers did at graduation. He just wanted the whole embarrassing ordeal to be over so he could go home and freak out about Patrick and Sebastien, who must’ve gotten together the moment the door closed. They’d even shown up together at his graduation! Oh yes, they were definitely boyfriends, he was sure of it.
When the graduates were asked to stand and move their tassels to the other side, every student did so, though Pierre thought that David looked rather uncomfortable as he did. Soon the sky was a flood of raining caps, being thrown into the air by excited teenagers who were eager to finally go off into the real world. David didn’t throw his cap while his classmates did; instead, he grabbed it off his head and ran, taking off his robe and throwing it over his arm as he did. He was keen to get out of that place as fast as he possibly could, without having to talk to anyone. He was stopped after a few feet, however, by a large hand grabbing onto his elbow and pulling him back. He turned nervously, seeing Troy standing behind him with a gentle smile.
Pierre stood and instantly began to move toward where Troy and David were standing, but was stopped by Sebastien’s hands on his chest, holding him in place. “Don’t start a fight here,” Sebastien warned him, staring seriously up at his friend. Martin and Patrick were both staring at Pierre like he was crazy, having never seen this side of him before, but Sebastien knew too well what Pierre was capable of when it came to David. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stared at David and Troy, who were standing unnecessarily close, Troy’s hand still gripping lightly onto David’s elbow. Troy leaned down and whispered something in David’s ear, whose face registered something like sadness mixed with shock and he pulled back, staring up at Troy with wide eyes and a partly open mouth. When Troy leaned down toward David again, Pierre felt his body jerk involuntarily, as if it simply wanted to run forward and bash Troy’s head against the ground, despite how hard he was fighting that impulse. David nodded and said something to Troy, soft enough that Pierre couldn’t hear a word — though to be fair, they were standing at least thirty feet away.
David turned and began to move toward Pierre and the rest of them, staring nervously at his boyfriend. Pierre stepped past Sebastien, Martin and Patrick and instantly his hands were on David’s waist, claiming his territory, staring into his eyes with a questioning, slightly accusatory stare. “What did he want?” Pierre asked, before David had the chance to say anything.
“He, uh…” David started; it was obvious how nervous he was by the tone of his voice. Pierre knew whatever David was going to tell him, it wasn’t going to be something he would like. “He wants to h-hang out f-for… for a little bit,” David trailed off weakly, hazel eyes staring into chocolate ones with frightened innocence.
Pierre’s face went blank as he looked down at his younger boyfriend, his grip on his waist never faltering. “Is that a joke?” Pierre asked roughly. “’Cause, uh, I’m not laughing.”
“No, it’s not a joke,” David whispered, sinking a little bit more into himself. When Pierre did nothing but continue to stare at him, David’s eyes saddened further and his bottom lip jutted out lightly in a soft pout. Pierre felt his stomach squirm at the look his boyfriend was giving him. This wasn’t a fake pout — a pout forced for the sake of obtaining whatever particular thing he wanted in the moment. This was a real pout. This was the look he gave Pierre when he truly wanted something and was so afraid to ask for it that he couldn’t manage anything but this look. Pierre’s gaze softened and he sighed, looking down. For whatever reason, it was important to David that he remain close to Troy; why? Pierre felt he would never know. “It’s a long story, okay?”
“Didn’t seem like it took him very long to tell you just now,” Pierre pointed out, still looking at the ground. When David said nothing, Pierre sighed again and looked up, fixing his boyfriend with a defeated stare. “This is important to you?” he asked weakly. David pulled his lip ring into his mouth and chewed nervously on it, before giving a reluctant nod. Pierre gave one final sigh before nodding. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently to David’s forehead, his eyes falling closed as his hand found the back of David’s head and tangled in his hair. He pulled back and smiled at David, his hand moving to under his jaw and stroking gently. “Go on then,” he said with a sad smile.
“Thanks Pie,” David said softly, his fingers grasping at the soft material of Pierre’s t-shirt. He leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on Pierre’s lips before pulling back and turning away.
“Hey David,” Pierre called, starting toward him. David turned, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity. “Do you want me to take those?” he asked, reaching forward and grabbing onto the cap and gown still tucked between his body and his arm.
“Oh… yeah… thanks…” David muttered, sounding slightly confused as the silky items were pulled from his grasp.
Pierre stood staring at David for a long moment, though when his eyes flickered behind and he saw Troy standing there, his cap and gown now off, his arms crossed over his chest and looking smug, Pierre felt anger stirring in him. He looked back and David and grabbed onto him, bringing him into a hot, passionate, extremely school-inappropriate kiss. And though they were quite possibly being watched by everyone there, David didn’t hesitate to kiss Pierre back with everything in him. When they pulled apart, Pierre wrapped his arms around David’s body and hugged him, his eyes going again to Troy in the background, who was scowling unpleasantly and tensing his muscles. Pierre smirked and raised his eyebrows before pulling back and giving David one last kiss on his forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Pierre said, beginning to retreat back to where Patrick, Sebastien and Martin were all standing.
David nodded and waved, before turning his back and walking quickly back to Troy. As soon as he was over to him, the scowl fell from Troy’s features and he smiled, his hand coming to rest on David’s shoulder. David casually shrugged out of his touch, something which made Pierre smile. David glanced over his shoulder and wiggled his fingers in a flirtatious wave, reminding Pierre of the first time he’d seen David working at the gas station across the street. When he thought of how far they’d come, he couldn’t help but feel reassured slightly about his decision to let David go with Troy. Before David had been nothing more than a distant dream, a fantasy figure in the back of his mind, whose name he didn’t know; now he got to wake up every morning and see David’s hazel eyes shining with excitement, simply ecstatic at waking up another day safe and warm in his arms. He wiggled his fingers in return, earning a cheeky grin from his younger boyfriend.
With a soft laugh, Pierre turned to Sebastien and patted him on the shoulder, who was staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
Sebastien looked as if he was contemplating saying something, though soon he was shaking his head and giving a soft, “Oh… nothing…” Clearly he felt that Pierre had lost his mind and could snap under the slightest pressure.
But Pierre felt fine. He wasn’t worried about David running off and never coming back. He wasn’t worried that David would cheat on him with his ex-boyfriend — because yes, it had been decided that that was precisely what Troy was to David. He loved David with all of his heart, even if he didn’t have the courage to tell his younger boyfriend that, and David… well, David… David what? Did David love him back? He knew that David had told Troy that someday he would love Pierre, but had that day arrived, or was he still waiting for something to strike him, like being bitten by an infectious bug, or shot by Cupid’s arrow? But no, Pierre had no reason to be worried. He knew that soon enough, David would be walking in the door of his apartment with a worn out smile on his face, as if the last hour, two hours tops with Troy had been a chore. Yes, Pierre felt fine.
As the hours passed and the sun went down, however, that little voice in the back of Pierre’s mind calling him an idiot for letting David go with Troy started to speak up. He watched his phone, watching as three hours went by; four hours; five hours, and all that time without a call or even so much as a text. Sebastien continued to watch him nervously, simply waiting for the moment when the cool façade would fade away and angry Pierre would come out again. Patrick had yet to talk to Pierre; he’d been trying to figure out how to apologize to Pierre, how to bring up everything that had happened in the past, but every time he opened his mouth to start, Pierre would turn to look at him, and the glare he received was more than enough to silence him before he’d even gotten the rough beginnings of a word out. In that moment, Pierre wasn’t to be tested.
Pierre stood and walked to the desk in the living room, pulling out an old pack of cigarettes that he kept just in case. He looked at it, contemplating taking out one of the cancerous little sticks, before sighing and putting it away again. “Fuck it, I’m calling him,” he grumbled. It was a testament to how irritated he obviously was that Sebastien didn’t say anything about it to stop him. He bounced anxiously while he waited, ring after ring, for David to pick up. When it went to voicemail, Pierre sighed and disconnected the phone, shaking his head slowly. “I’m being paranoid,” he told himself, and he put his phone back in his pocket. That didn’t stop him, however, from calling David again when another half hour passed… and then again after another twenty minutes. After the fourth time of calling David and getting nothing but his voicemail, Pierre was absolutely losing his mind.
All of a sudden that pack of cigarettes had magically jumped into his hand and he had one between his lips, a shaking hand holding the lighter to the tip. Sebastien and Patrick walked timidly out onto the balcony; Pierre’s problems with David seemed to have, at least temporarily, soothed over their own issues. “Since when do you smoke?” Patrick asked, leaning back against the wooden railing.
“Since I started,” Pierre responded gruffly, not bothering to look at him as he blew out his chest full of smoke.
Patrick exchanged an uncertain glance with Sebastien and looked off to the side. “He doesn’t normally,” Sebastien said, his voice marginally softer than Pierre’s had been. “It’s just…”
“Boyfriend stress?” Patrick guessed with a raised eyebrow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pierre snapped, turning to look finally at Patrick.
Patrick’s eyes widened and he stared skeptically at Pierre. “Dude, don’t bite my head off,” Patrick told him calmly.
“Why don’t you just call me a faggot and disown me again, Pat?” Pierre threw at him harshly. “Then you don’t have to worry about me ‘biting your head off,’ if it hurts your feelings so much.”
“What the fuck? I’m here trying to apologize to you,” Patrick pointed out heatedly.
“No, you’re here trying to get in Sebastien’s pants, even though you screwed it up the first time,” Pierre spat, throwing his cigarette butt in the tin can in the corner.
“Fuck you, I’m just trying to do the right thing,” Patrick muttered, shaking his head slowly. “When did you become such a fucking asshole?”
Pierre pushed himself forward and stood nose to nose with Patrick, who stood up straighter though still didn’t match the other man in height. Sebastien was standing apprehensively beside them, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two and just waiting for something to happen. “My boyfriend is off God-knows-where right now with his abusive, manipulative, rapist ex-boyfriend,” Pierre breathed, his voice dangerously low. “So excuse me if I’m a little on edge.”
Patrick stood his ground for several more seconds, contemplating saying something else, something which would most definitely only make the situation worse, though soon he was stepping back and shaking his head, looking tensely away. “Whatever, man,” Patrick said in a defeated tone.
Pierre turned away and walked back inside, looking around before heading out the front door. He wanted to be alone, but he had no where to go, so instead he just sat down against the wall outside his apartment door, his phone clutched in his hand. It was almost midnight; why wasn’t David home yet? Why hadn’t he answered any of his calls? Or at least texted him? He dialed David’s number again, watching as the call connected and yearning to hear David’s voice on the other end telling him he would be home soon.
David was sitting on the roof of Troy’s car, his legs out straight in front of him and his phone clutched in his hand. He stared at it, his face tight with nerves as he let the ringtone play out, the ringtone that he’d bought specifically for Pierre. This was Pierre’s fifth time calling him in the past two hours, and still, he wasn’t answering it. Why? Why did he feel nervous at Pierre’s call. He couldn’t force himself to answer it, no matter how much he knew he should. As soon as his phone stopped ringing and a message popped up telling him he’d missed a call, David felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Was what he was doing actually wrong? He turned to glance at Troy, who was laying back against the windshield of his car with his arm outstretched, waiting for David to curl into him again, smiling, though he didn’t say a word.
Slowly, David laid back, the back of his head coming to rest on Troy’s shoulder, his hands still holding tight to his phone as he stared up at the starry night sky. Troy’s fingers began to brush gently against David’s upper arm, and though it was a warm, early-summer night, goosebumps raised on David’s skin, bringing with them a nervous, fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach, as well as a deep ache in his chest. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking as Troy’s other arm moved across his body and came to rest lightly on David’s stomach, his fingers playing with the bottom of his shirt.
“I’m gonna miss you when I’m in Mississippi,” Troy told him in a soft, sincere voice.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone else to torture,” David replied weakly.
“I don’t want to torture anyone else, David,” Troy replied gently. When David made no response, Troy shifted so that he lay on his side, with an arm still under David’s neck and the other hand now moving slowly up his shirt. David’s cheeks turned pink but he did nothing to push Troy away; he wouldn’t reach out and take Troy, but he was too weak now to reject him, either. He couldn’t deny it to himself how badly he wanted the quarterback, or how incredibly terrible it felt to have Troy’s hand on his bare skin; it felt so wrong… so why did it feel so right? Troy moved his hand from under David’s shirt and instead ran his fingers gently through David’s silky black hair, brushing it away from his eyes and tucking a few long strands behind his ear. “I happen to like torturing you.”
David gave a weak laugh and nodded, though within seconds the smile had fallen from his lips and that worried, anxious, sad expression had returned to his features. “I see that,” he responded breathlessly.
Troy was silent as he watched David for several seconds. David wondered what he was thinking, because he was clearly thinking of saying something, something that scared yet excited him at the same time; David hated how well he knew the other boy’s mind. “You could leave with me tomorrow, ya know,” Troy said slowly, and David was as surprised to hear the quiver in Troy’s voice as he was to hear the actual words. He knew that Troy had been trying for him, but to actually want him to move to Mississippi with him while he went to college on full scholarship and became an Ol’ Miss football star? The fact that he was willing to risk it all by bringing David with him… David couldn’t even begin to explain how amazed he was.
“I can’t just leave,” David replied sadly. “I have a boyfriend,” he added, hoping that if he made this point, Troy would simply give up and leave him alone. It was obvious that he was stretching to save himself from the situation he’d gotten himself into.
“The Canadian?” Troy asked condescendingly, and David glared and smacked him lightly on the chest.
“I’m Canadian, ya know,” he pointed out softly.
Troy smiled and gave a soft laugh, his fingers running through David’s hair again. “My little Canadian,” he said fondly.
David shook his head slowly and Troy stopped finger combing in his hair. “I’m not anything of yours,” David reminded him shakily.
“But you could be,” Troy responded quickly. David stared into his gorgeous chocolate eyes, suddenly hating how much he resembled Pierre. “Move with me. Leave with me tomorrow and we can be happy together for the rest of our lives,” Troy said, and as he said this, it sounded almost as if he was begging.
“What future do we have?” David asked fairly. “I can’t just hide from the world while you’re out there making your career.”
“What if you don’t have to hide?” Troy asked and David’s mouth fell slowly open. “What if… I promise to come out for you?” Troy asked with a shaking voice. David felt speechless. The lengths that Troy was saying he was prepared to go to shocked every last word from his mind. “You want this, David, I know you do,” Troy whispered, his hand moving to grasp at the side of David’s head desperately. “I love you, just… admit that you love me too.”
David shocked himself as his lips parted and he whispered, “I love Pierre more.” He’d never realized before just how in love with Pierre he really was, but at the same time, he had to admit his feelings for Troy to himself.
Troy stared sadly at David, though it was clear that he wasn’t done trying. “I can live with that,” he told David quietly. “Just as long as you admit that you do love me.”
The feel of Troy’s large hand holding to David’s head brought a terrible whirlwind of wonderful feelings to David’s stomach and he closed his eyes, not caring as two tears slipped from his eyes and rolled down the sides of his face. “I love you, Troy,” David whispered; as soon as the words had passed his lips, his tears began to fall harder and faster. When he heard a ragged breath from above, he blinked open his eyes and stared up at Troy. Seeing Troy’s tear filled brown eyes brought David’s heart plummeting into his stomach. The two gazed into each others eyes for a long moment before Troy began to move down, his eyes falling slowly closed. David closed his eyes tight and placed both hands on Troy’s chest to stop him, shaking his head slowly. “Please don’t,” David requested quietly.
“Come on, David, you want this,” Troy replied desperately.
“I can’t do this,” David whispered, his fingers still pressing against Troy’s chest, which was hovering just inches from touching his own. “Please don’t do this.”
Troy’s hand moved to David’s face, stroking his skin lightly. Tears continued to flow down David’s cheeks as he leaned his face into Troy’s hand, despite the fact that he knew he needed to pull away. “The only way I’m not going to kiss you right now is if you tell me you honestly don’t want me to,” he said. “Just open your eyes and tell me you don’t want it.”
David hesitated for several seconds, and as he responded, he kept his eyes closed. “I don’t want to want it,” he tried weakly.
Troy shook his head slowly. “No, that’s not the same,” he told him strongly. “Open your eyes and tell me you don’t want this.”
Slowly, David opened his eyes and he looked up, his hazel eyes swimming and red. “I can’t,” he whispered thickly.
“Then I’m sorry,” Troy told him, before beginning to lean down again.
“Please don’t,” David whispered quickly, pressing his hands harder against Troy’s chest, but he only continued to come closer. “P-please, do—” His words were cut off by Troy’s lips pressed against his own, and though he resisted for several seconds, soon he had given into him entirely. His hands snaked up around Troy’s neck and tangled in his hair, pushing him down, pulling him closer as their tongues danced against each other. Troy pulled his arm from underneath David’s neck and got on top of him, the front of his loose blue jeans rubbing against the front of David’s tight black ones, bringing a sick, tingling sensation to the very tips of David’s fingers. As Troy’s hips rolled down against David’s, a desperate moan came from David’s mouth, the sound muted by the other boy’s tongue against his.
A shaking hand pushed between their bodies, and soon Troy was rubbing against David’s groin, bringing on a sensation so powerful it practically burned in every part of David’s body. He shook his head and pulled back, gasping for air as tears flowed in torrents down his cheeks. “P-please d-don’t,” he begged desperately, though even as he made this request, he could feel his body reacting to the other boy’s touch of its own accord. Troy leaned down and kissed David’s neck, ignoring his pathetic pleas, knowing that David wanted the exact opposite of what he was requesting. It took only seconds for him to unbutton and unzip David’s pants — took him mere seconds to reach inside, under his layers of jeans and boxers, and wrap his hand around the smaller boy’s erection. David cried harder at the way his body quivered at Troy’s touch; his heart throbbed for Pierre but still he pulled Troy’s face back to his and kissed him again, sobbing into his kiss.
He felt a wetness hit his face that wasn’t his own tears and David’s thumbs swiped across Troy’s cheeks under his eyes; the fact that Troy had tears there was what propelled David on further. His hands moved desperately to Troy’s jeans, undoing his belt, opening his button and zipper and dipping under the band of his boxers. The feel of Troy’s erection in his hand urged David on; he stroked him hard and fast, moaning against Troy’s tongue. David didn’t think he’d ever felt so much pain in his life as he felt in that moment; not when Troy had held him down and raped him, not when Troy had ripped out his piercings and beaten him, not when his mother died… nothing could compare to the ripping sensation in his heart at the fact that he knew he was hurting Pierre, yet there was nothing he could do to stop himself.
How long had they been laying there, on the roof of Troy’s car, parked in a secluded area, touching each other and crying? David had no sense of time when he was with Troy; he simply followed after the other boy’s lead, his hand never ceasing on his erection. He heard Troy’s shaky breathing, saw the way his body began to quiver, and knew that soon he would feel the other boy’s come on his hand. And sure enough, within a minute Troy had leaned his forehead down to rest on the top of David’s shoulder and let out a moan, his hips rocking into David’s hand as he came. He allowed David to continue to stroke him for several long seconds before he reached down and pulled his hand away. David looked up and stared sadly at Troy through ecstasy-filled eyes, his mouth hanging open as Troy’s hand kept working up and down on his length.
Then Troy did something new — something he’d never done, in the year that they’d been fooling around. His body moved down David’s body slowly, not stopping until he was staring at the zipper of David’s jeans. He pulled his hand from his pants and looked nervously up at David, who stared back with a breath held in his chest. Slowly, Troy pulled David’s pants down and looked at his erection, before leaning down and lightly taking the tip in his mouth. David’s eyes rolled shut and he titled his head back, his mouth falling open as he took a shaky breath in. Troy’s mouth moved up and down along his length, slowly and sensually, drawing forth a multitude of feelings from David’s body. And while he could feel his climax steadily mounting, he could also feel his heart shattering. He closed his eyes tight, took a staggering breath, and within seconds he was coming, his body shaking and a loud moan escaping his lips as Troy continued to suck on his erection, giving off a soft moan as he tasted David’s come for the first time.
He pulled back and stared at David, who was now relaxed against the windshield of the car and breathing hard through his nose, his eyes closed tight and his lips bitten together. As Troy began to move back up to face David again, David pulled up his pants, his hands shaking so badly he had difficulty zipping and buttoning them. Troy’s hands found David’s face and he leaned down to kiss him, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss they’d ever shared; it only made David feel that much worse. When Troy pulled back, David waited for something else to happen; maybe for a meteor to crash from the sky and land on him? He knew he deserved it for cheating on Pierre. I cheated on Pierre, he told himself, his sobs beginning to take over his body again as this thought went through his mind. I love him and I cheated on him. In that moment, he knew he deserved to die.
“David, look at me,” Troy requested softly, and slowly, David’s eyes opened. “I love you,” he told him gently. David’s brow furrowed, he bit down hard on his bottom lip and his body shook with silent sobs as he stared up at Troy. Troy’s sad eyes searched David’s features, his hands working to wipe the smaller boy’s tears away, though they were replaced instantly with new ones. “I know I’m terrible for you but… please come with me tomorrow,” he begged softly. “We can leave together and never come back.”
David shook his head and sat up, getting up and moving away from Troy. He started to walk, wanting to walk back to Pierre and pretend that none of it had ever happened, no matter how long the walk would be. Troy followed after David, his hand finding David’s shoulder. David jerked away from him, shaking his head. “Just stay away from me,” he sobbed desperately, not stopping to look back.
“David, come on!” Troy pleaded, not giving up his pursuit.
“No! I love Pierre and I’m going back to him right now,” David told him, his voice weak.
“You really think he’s going to take you back after you cheated on him?” Troy asked quickly.
“He doesn’t have to know,” David said tonelessly, his arms wrapping around his body. He felt dirty. He felt low. He felt wrong. But did he have the strength to own up to it? Did he have the courage to tell Pierre what he’d just done? He couldn’t lose him; he needed Pierre more than he’d ever needed anything before, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that if he told Pierre of what he’d just done with Troy, his boyfriend was going to leave him and never talk to him again. David couldn’t let that happen; he wouldn’t let that happen. “This was a one time thing,” he continued, walking faster. “You’re leaving for Mississippi tomorrow and I’m never gonna see you again, or talk to you again, or hear from you again, or… anything. Leave me alone,” he finished firmly.
“David…” Troy said sadly, still following quickly after David. “David, at least let me give you a ride home.”
David shook his head and kept walking. “Stop following me or I’ll call the cops,” he threatened strongly.
“Are you serious?” Troy asked weakly.
“Test me,” David snapped, tears still leaking down his cheeks.
“David… at least… a-at least say goodbye to me!” Troy begged weakly.
But David shook his head and kept walking. “Goodbye Troy,” he said, his voice harsh and uncaring. In that moment, he didn’t care that he was breaking Troy’s heart for a change. He didn’t care that he was never going to see the boy again. He just wanted things to go back to how they were supposed to be. He wanted things to be right with Pierre. It wasn’t until ten minutes later that David finally looked behind him and realized that Troy was no where to be seen. He allowed his feet to stop and he stared behind him, feeling a tingle of regret at what he’d just done to the only other boy he’d ever loved, even if he hadn’t been able to admit it to himself until that night. He gave a soft sigh and looked down at the ground, before softly saying, “Goodbye Troy.” He stood there for a moment longer before turning and continuing toward his apartment with Pierre, knowing that he could never tell his older boyfriend about anything that had happened that night. David had cheated on him and he would never find out… he couldn’t. For David’s sake… he couldn’t.