Sid Shmorgenheigen (shmorgenheigen) wrote,
Sid Shmorgenheigen
shmorgenheigen

Maybe This Town Isn't So Bad, Chapter 21

Title: Maybe This Town Isn't So Bad
Author: shmorgenheigen
Chapter: Twenty-One
Rating: R
Pairing: Pierre/David
Word Count: 7378
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: Aaaah!


Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16:1
Chapter 16:2
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20







A low groan could be heard as Sebastien closed his eyes tight against the morning sun and buried his face into the warmth of his pillow. Why was his whole head pounding? Why did his face literally hurt? Why did he feel as if he'd been run over by a steam roller? Thinking hurt; moving hurt. Sebastien wanted to simply sink into his best friend's couch and never come out again; maybe then the pain would just stop and he would be allowed to live a happy, warm existence again! But wait, since when did he sleep with a pillow on the couch? And since when was the couch so spacious and warm? He hated to think of doing it, of the pain it would cause him, but Sebastien knew he needed to open his eyes. Slowly he forced them open, though the bright morning sun felt like daggers in his eyes and he closed them tight again, giving another groan. Maybe he didn't need to worry about where he was for the time being; what did it really matter, as long as he was allowed to drift back into a peaceful slumber?

“You okay, Seb?” a hoarse voice came, though still Sebastien recognized it instantly.

His eyes shot open unmercifully quickly and he pushed himself back, staring wide eyed at Patrick, who was laying in bed next to him and staring at him with concern. Sebastien's brilliant blue eyes traveled from Patrick's groggy face, down his bare torso and came to rest finally where the blankets were bunched over his hips. Was he wearing anything under those blankets? Sebastien couldn't even remember leaving the club, much less ending up in Patrick's hotel room and in bed with the man. When he raised a hand and pressed it lightly against his chest, it occurred to Sebastien that Patrick wasn't the only one without a shirt on. He looked down at himself, his mouth falling open, then back to Patrick for a brief moment, who offered a sad smile. Sebastien desperately lifted the blankets and looked at his own lower half, which to his horror was entirely naked; his glancing eyes had seen Patrick's lower half in exactly the same state. Dropping the blankets again, Sebastien leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing his hands to cover the shame on his face. “Shit,” he breathed, closing his eyes tight.

“You, uh... you don't remember last night... do you?” Patrick asked delicately, and Sebastien shook his head in response. “You don't remember what you told me?”

Sebastien buried his face deeper in his hands as he muttered, “Please don't remind me.”

Patrick's hand gently found Sebastien's stomach, his fingers caressing his skin gently. The feel of Sebastien's stomach muscles tensing under his fingertips told Patrick how his touch was affecting the other man. He leaned closer as he gently said, “You were upset because of what happened with Pierre, and you—”

“What, what happened with Pierre?” Sebastien asked, dropping his hands and turning quickly toward Patrick.

“Wow, you don't remember any of it, do you?” Patrick asked, sounding half amused, When Sebastien stared pleadingly at him, Patrick sighed and nodded, his eyes going down to Sebastien's stomach again. “You don't remember... Pierre hitting you?”

Sebastien's jaw dropped and slowly he propped himself up, pulling the blankets a little bit higher as he leaned against the headboard for support. “Are you fucking serious?” Sebastien asked incredulously. Patrick gave a nod and stared at Sebastien, at the left side of his face in particular, something which worried the other man. “What? What's wrong with my face?” Sebastien asked urgently, and quickly he raised a hand and pressed his fingers to his cheek. When he felt nothing out of the ordinary, he began to poke higher and higher until his fingers were touching just under his eye and he felt pain shoot through him. “OW!” He complained loudly, his hand jerking involuntarily away, though soon he was touching the spot again, feeling horror crashing through him. “Fuck! He gave me a black eye?!” he demanded angrily, and Patrick gave a weak nod. “What the fuck did I do?!”

“Not quite sure,” Patrick said honestly. “You and David sorta disappeared, so me and Pierre went outside to see if you were there for some reason and when we saw you, you were—”

“Oh yeah,” Sebastien said weakly, his face going strangely blank as the memories started to creep into his mind again. He saw David through swimming eyes, saw him barely standing up, saw his head sagging forward, as if it was simply too heavy for him to hold up anymore. “He was super fucked up, so I took him outside for some fresh air...” Sebastien started blankly. “And then he was really wobbly, so I leaned him against the wall and held onto him...” he continued, feeling his head throbbing even worse at trying to force these memories out of him. “But I swear it was nothing!” he pleaded, turning back to face Patrick again. “Nothing happened!”

“It kinda looked like you two were gonna kiss...” Patrick said softly, his eyes searching Sebastien's. “I mean, you had your fingers on his lips and you guys were standing really close...”

Sebastien felt lost. Why had his fingers been on David's lips? Now that Patrick had mentioned it, he could remember looking down at David and seeing them there, and he had told David something, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. He closed his eyes and thought of that picture, looked at David's face, tried to take anything he could from it. Then he remembered something, something that started to warm up his memories again. Slowly his eyes opened and he stared at Patrick, his mouth hanging slightly open as the reality of what he'd remembered crashed over him. “I think David cheated on Pierre,” he said blankly. Patrick's reaction was almost more than Sebastien was ready to handle.

His brow furrowed and he leaned toward Sebastien, unable to keep his voice quiet as he said, “Wait, what?!” Sebastien closed his eyes and pressed a hand to the side of his aching head as it gave another dull throb. “What are you talking about?! Last night?! Did something happen with him and some dude at the club?!”

“No,” Sebastien responded in a calm, quiet voice. The more Patrick raged, the worse his head felt; it was all he could do to keep from curling in a ball and clutching at his own skull.

“Then what are you talking about?!” Patrick demanded.

“Troy,” Sebastien responded quietly, though he sounded heart broken as he said this.

“...Troy? That crazy kid that David used to sorta be with?” Patrick asked in confusion. When Sebastien nodded, Patrick felt himself only growing more confused. “But... I thought he moved away...”

“He did,” Sebastien told him. As this even more heart breaking idea crossed through his mind, Sebastien was forced to open his eyes and look sadly at Patrick. “That means... it was before he left... the night you showed up? The night of David's graduation? The night David was out until 1:30 in the morning without an explanation, and when he came home he was sobbing?” Sebastien said weakly. Patrick looked shocked. “It makes sense now... how their relationship got awkward after that night... how David seemed different...” he continued, looking down at the blankets covering his bare hips. “And last night... he started to cry, and I got freaked out and said I was gonna get Pierre but he told me not to... and then he said... he started to say 'me and Troy', and I just panicked and told him to not to tell me anything,” he finished, sounding ashamed. “So... I put my hand on his mouth to stop him talking... and I told him not to tell me anything I couldn't tell Pierre...”

“That's... kind of fucked up, Sebastien,” Patrick said honestly, his voice hesitant.

“I know,” Sebastien breathed, and he leaned down and dropped his head in his hands. “I just panicked 'cause I was so drunk... I didn't wanna know. And now I still don't know for sure, but I think I know, and I feel like I need to tell Pierre, but what if I'm wrong and I don't actually know anything, and then I tell Pierre and it's really nothing and it just screws up their relationship? But at the same time... if I have doubts and I'm right, and David's been lying to Pierre for months about this...” Sebastien trailed off and sighed, shaking his head slowly. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? Now he felt it would've been better if he'd just discovered the truth the night previously, but there was nothing he could do to change what he'd done.

“Don't worry about it,” Patrick said gently, and he reached over and placed his hand lightly against Sebastien's cheek, drawing his attention back. Sebastien felt a squirm in his stomach and swallowed hard as his eyes flicked back to Patrick, though they didn't move up to meet his eyes. No, his gaze had managed to get caught on Patrick's lips, and more than anything, he wanted to lean forward and kiss him. Perhaps Patrick sensed this, because he moved subtly closer, his head tilting gently to the side as he whispered, “So... you don't remember anything else about last night?” Sebastien gave a weak shake of his head, his blue eyes still locked on Patrick's soft lips, which were moving closer to his. Then he felt Patrick's nose graze against his and his eyes fluttered shut as his breath got caught in his throat. “Why don't you let me remind you?” Patrick breathed desperately, and as he spoke, his lips brushed ever so slightly against Sebastien's, sending shivers down his spine and through his limbs.

Sebastien tilted his face down and shook his head, feeling as if this action tore his heart into two pieces. When Patrick felt emotion threatening to escape him, his eyebrows scrunched together and he pressed his forehead against Sebastien's, breathing hard, as if at any moment he would burst into tears. “Please, just tell me what more I can do to prove to you that I'm not going anywhere,” Patrick begged him, bringing tears to Sebastien's closed eyes.

“I'm not ready,” Sebastien replied, though his hand moved to rest against Patrick's bear chest, just another reminder of a night that he couldn't remember with the man he loved more than anything, painfully so.

Patrick hated that excuse. He knew that Sebastien loved him, he could feel it in his touch, and he understood that what he'd done to him was wrong, but could he help it? Could he change it? Could he take it back? Patrick felt that he'd done more than enough to prove how much he loved Sebastien. He thought he'd more than made up for the things that he'd said and done to the only man he'd ever loved, and still, it wasn't enough. And even though he knew this, he would wait. He would give Sebastien as long as he needed because in his heart he knew he would never love anyone like he loved Sebastien.

Sebastien cleared his throat and pulled away, allowing his eyes to open and look at Patrick, though the moment he had, he wished instantly that he hadn't. He'd never seen so much pain on one person's face. Maybe Sebastien was simply more sensitive to Patrick's pain because he felt it, too, but there was something about the way his face was crumpled, his head hung, and the tears were collecting at the corners of his eyes that made Sebastien see how badly Patrick really was hurting. Gently he leaned up and placed the softest of kisses against Patrick's forehead. He heard a ragged breath and felt Patrick begin to shake, and suddenly Sebastien felt as if his body had been taken over entirely by his desires, despite what his head was telling him.

His lips were on Patrick's before he could stop himself. Patrick's stifled sob brought a painful tearing sensation to Sebastien's chest, and desperately he pushed him onto his back, forcing him to lay down as he climbed on top of him. It didn't matter to him that they were both entirely naked; if anything, it only made him want to be close to him that much more. He was giving in entirely now, giving in to every feeling and every desire he'd experienced over the past eight months, from his first kiss with Patrick, to five months spent in longing, and now to the past three months in which he'd been forced to sit dauntingly close to the other man, trying to resist his natural charms. Now, with his lips on Patrick's neck, taking his skin between his teeth, it all felt like one big lead up to this moment, like a tortuously slow first kiss in a movie; all of the anticipation, the desire and the waiting made this moment better than either of them could have ever imagined.

And as their hands moved over each others bodies, feeling each other fully for the second time (though it was the first time that Sebastien, at least, could remember), Sebastien didn't think he had ever felt so right. Why had he waited so long? Why hadn't he just given into Patrick immediately, the moment he'd showed up on Pierre's doorstep? The pain, the heartache, the tears; in that moment, Sebastien couldn't remember any of them. Patrick was making up for everything he'd ever done, for the things he'd called Sebastien, and most of all, for the gaping hole he'd left in his soul. All of it was being filled in right then and there; Sebastien could feel himself healing with every move of Patrick's hand on his erection, every soft moan in the form of his name that came from Patrick's lips, and every taste of his tongue that the other man offered. Together, they were perfect; why had Sebastien ever doubted that?

The two lay in bed for hours, Sebastien's face pressed under Patrick's jaw as he clung to his body; Patrick's grip around Sebastien was just as tight, if not tighter. Sebastien had no idea how many nights Patrick had cried himself to sleep in that very hotel room. He didn't like to show the other man that particular emotion; the last thing he wanted to do was guilt him into getting together with him, so he'd been very guarded with the heartbreak he was feeling with every day that passed without Sebastien forgiving him and jumping into his arms. When he'd made the decision to approach Sebastien, he honestly hadn't thought that it would take almost three months for Sebastien to forgive him, but there they were, just five days short of three months past the day that Patrick had first shown up and kissed the other man, and he was finally his. As the thought ran through Patrick's mind, he gave Sebastien's hand a light squeeze, which was resting lightly on his chest.

Sebastien lifted his head and smiled down at Patrick, feeling calmer and more relaxed than he ever had in his life. He leaned down slowly and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of Patrick's mouth, who smiled gently and leaned toward his kiss. Sebastien simply stared into Patrick's eyes, feeling that he could get lost in how gorgeous they were, and when Patrick reached a hand up and ran it lightly through Sebastien's shaggy brown hair, Sebastien couldn't stop himself from parting his lips and gently whispering, “I love you, Patrick.”

Patrick smiled softly and leaned up, pulling Sebastien down into a tender kiss. Slowly, Patrick laid his head back down, unable to keep the smile from his lips as he replied, “I love you too, Seb.”

Sebastien smiled gently as he said, “That's Sebby Fresh to you, mister.”

Patrick laughed lightly and nodded his head. “Right, sorry. Who am I?”

Sebastien thought for a moment, giving a soft, “Hmmm...” as he did. Then he was grinning evilly, telling Patrick that he'd thought of a terribly mean nickname for him. “Fatty Patty,” Sebastien said with a proud nod, and Patrick scoffed and tried to pull the blankets higher up his body, though it didn't work very well with Sebastien laying on top of him. Sebastien laughed and pulled the blankets down entirely, 'causing a deep pink blush to rise in Patrick's cheeks. “Awww, you're so cute! You're blushing!” Sebastien said, trying to bite back a grin.

“I'm naked!” he complained, as if this excused his blush.

“And sexy,” Sebastien told him with a wink.

Patrick scoffed again and looked away, getting a wider grin from Sebastien. “Asshole.”

“Love you,” Sebastien chimed sweetly.

Patrick tried to keep the glare on his face, but the combination of Sebastien's beautiful statement paired with the sparkle in his bright blue eyes destroyed his chances of pretending that he was mad. He shook his head slowly as that smile simply seemed to slip back onto his lips. “Asshole,” he repeated, though this time, paired with his soft smile it simply seemed like a term of endearment.

Sebastien stared at him for a moment longer before he was moving away, grabbing Patrick's hand and trying to force him to stand. “Come on!” he said excitedly.

Patrick laughed and sat up, though Sebastien hadn't managed to make him stand yet. “What are we doing?” Patrick questioned lightly.

“We need to take a shower so we can go and tell Pierre and David the good news!” Sebastien said, pulling harder on Patrick's hand, though Patrick merely used his weight against him and didn't move.

“What news is that?” Patrick asked in a bratty tone.

“Uh... that we're getting married, duh,” Sebastien joked, putting on a fake-scoff.

“Oh really?” Patrick asked, smiling devilishly.

“If you like it then you should'a put a ring on it, bitch,” Sebastien replied, keeping the bitchy look on his face, though it took every ounce of his energy to keep from smiling.

“Hmm...” Patrick looked at Sebastien thoughtfully for a moment, before he was pulling against Sebastien, pulling the other man into his lap with a soft squeak. Sebastien blushed at the fact that he was sitting on Patrick's lap while wearing absolutely nothing, but he couldn't help himself with the way that Patrick was staring into his eyes with such a tenderness he could have died. “Will you marry me?” Patrick asked gently, causing Sebastien's mouth to fall open.

“A-a-are you serious?” Sebastien demanded, blushing more furiously.

Patrick smiled and nodded, his hand coming to rest on the back of Sebastien's head in a tender manner. “Yeah...”

“You're asking me to marry you right now?” Sebastien asked incredulously.

“Yup,” Patrick replied simply.

“While we're naked?” Sebastien continued, shocked.

“It's kind of fitting for us, isn't it?” Patrick joked.

“You're crazy,” Sebastien breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from Patrick's gaze.

“It's not like I haven't been thinking about it...” Patrick admitted softly, shocking Sebastien further, and slowly he leaned to the side and opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet. When he withdrew his hand, he had what was obviously a ringbox, and instantly tears were in Sebastien's eyes.

“You're not joking, are you?” Sebastien whispered, his hands shaking now as Patrick sat up straight and held the box in both hands, looking at it nervously.

“I couldn't be any more serious,” Patrick told him quietly, and he opened the box, pulled out the ring, which was just a simple platinum band, and threw the box to the side. Slowly he looked up at Sebastien, smiling nervously at him. “I know the movies say I'm supposed to have this big speech prepared, and I'm supposed to get on one knee, and be wearing a tux, and take you out to some ridiculously priced restaurant...” he started softly, holding the ring between his middle and index fingers. “But that's not us. We're never gonna be those people, the people who think you need fancy dates and shiny cars to be happy. We're the type of people who know as long as we have each other... we could live in a box together and still be happy. Sebastien, I love you more than anyone else in the world, and it doesn't matter to me that you're the first guy I've ever had feelings for, or what I might be missing out on out there, because there is no one else for me out there. You're it, Sebastien. You're my everything. I love us, in all our goofy, childish, naked glory,” trailed off gently, getting a watery laugh from Sebastien. “And nothing would make me happier than if you would take this ring right now, put it on your finger, kiss me, and tell me you want the same thing.”

Sebastien was stunned speechless. Not only had they never actually been in a relationship together, but they had just finally gotten together, and now Patrick was proposing to him? But as Sebastien stared at him, his body seemed to move of its own accord. He took the ring and smiled at it, giving a teary laugh, before sliding it gently onto his finger. Everything that Patrick had said to him made sense; it was all true. They weren't the fancy dinner types, they didn't need expensive things to be happy; they'd always been more than happy keeping each other company, even as friends, though their friendship was hardly ever just friendly, even if they never admitted it to each other. There had always been something more between them; he'd known for five years that he was in love with Patrick, and all that time had been spent waiting for the other man to catch up to him. Now he finally had, and as Sebastien leaned forward and kissed him, he knew that nothing would ever be the same between them; everything would mean so much more now.

- - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ohh... my... God...” David groaned as his hands grasped desperately at his head, which was throbbing worse than it ever had in his life. What was happening to him? Why did he feel that he was going to split into two pieces, staring at the top of his scalp? He wanted to scream in agony, but his throat and mouth were so dry he could hardly even breathe, let alone yell out for help. When he cracked a heavy eyelid open, he felt pain shoot through him and covered his head, groaning again. “I am never... drinking... again...” he groaned froggily.

David gingerly lifted his head and opened his eyes again, staring only half coherently at Pierre, who was on his side, facing away. David's brow furrowed as he stared at Pierre's back, slightly put off by this sleeping position. Pierre never faced away from him when he slept. If anything, David sometimes had to kick the man away because he was trying to lay on top of him. Pierre was nothing short of a sleep snuggler, and the fact that he was turned away worried David slightly. Was he mad at him? Had he done something wrong? Carefully and without disturbing Pierre, David got out of bed and made his way to the living room, expecting to see Sebastien sleeping on the couch, though again, he was thrown off by the lack of the man's presence. Had he gone home (or to the hotel, he should say) with Patrick? David dearly hoped that was the case, because he was more than ready for Patrick and Sebastien to get together. Without another thought, David went into the bathroom and started the shower.

He stood staring at himself in the mirror for a long moment, thinking that he hadn't looked so bad since the one time he'd gotten strep throat and been deliriously sick for two weeks. It was with shaking hands that David screwed the lid off of a bottle of ibuprofen and took four, swallowing them effortlessly without water. David has always been exceptionally good at taking pills, though he had never determined if this was a good thing or a bad thing. He went through the process of taking off his eye makeup before jumping into the shower, and oh, what a relief the shower was to his sore body. He hung his head and allowed the water to wash down over his face as he stood there, willing the pain in his head to go away. And even though it probably didn't help, David was wracking his brain trying to remember what had happened the night before. He could remember Sebastien's concert, the club singing him happy birthday, Pierre singing to him, and probably about an hour after that, and then there was nothing. His memory after that point completely blank, like a white wall of nothingness. Pierre sleeping with his back to David scared him even more now; now he really wondered what he'd done.

“Morning gorgeous,” Pierre's voice came through the shower curtain, and David yelped in surprise and jumped slightly. David heard Pierre laugh and slowly the shower curtain was pulled back to reveal his smiling boyfriend. “Scare ya?”

David let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “Yeah, thanks for that,” he grumbled, though the longer he looked at Pierre, the more he thought of Pierre's performance and he couldn't help but smile. “You were amazing last night,” David told him softly, and Pierre smiled and looked bashfully down at the ground. “I don't know if I told you or not, but... you were fucking hot,” David continued, now washing conditioner from his hair.

“Yeah, you might've mentioned it once or fifty times,” Pierre told him lightly.

“Did I?” David asked with an air of amused surprise. “I don't really remember that much of last night... after your performance everything is sorta... black.”

Pierre glared and gave a light growl, though this wasn't directed toward David. “Fucking Pat,” he grumbled, shaking his head slowly. “I told him it was too much, but did he listen to me? Of course not,” Pierre ranted, and David gave a sheepish smile. “And then you disappeared with Sebastien and when me and Pat found you guys, Sebastien had you all shoved against a wall and it looked like you were gonna kiss,” he continued, and David's eyes widened and he dropped his arms back by his side. Was that what he'd done wrong? Was it that he'd almost kissed Sebastien? Had he come that close to almost cheating on Pierre again? “Seb swears nothing was gonna happen... he just texted me not too long ago... said he was just trying to calm you down 'cause you were upset about something...” Pierre trailed off, 'causing David even more panic than what he'd said before. “And now I kinda feel bad for punching him in the face...” Pierre finished, sounding awkwardly ashamed of himself.

“You HIT him?!” David demanded, and though Pierre said nothing, his grimace was more than enough for a response. “I can't believe you would punch your best friend!” David scolded him.

“I thought he was gonna kiss you!” Pierre defended himself.

David turned off the water and grabbed a towel, quickly drying off his hair before wrapping it around his waist and stepping out of the shower. “That's crazy, why would he want to kiss me?” David asked with a raised eyebrow as he made his way back to the bedroom; Pierre was quick on his heels.

“I dunno, maybe because you're fucking gorgeous and you idolize him?” David rolled his eyes and grabbed a clean pair of boxers, pulling them on before doing the same with a pair of baggy, cargo shorts. He'd never really been into wearing shorts before, but it was amazing how much cooler he was during the summer in a pair of shorts compared to skin tight black jeans! “I'm serious, David. You think I haven't seen the way he looks at you?” Pierre asked harshly, and David gave an incredulous laugh.

“Not everyone wants in my pants, Pierre,” David snapped at him as he grabbed a blue v-neck and pulled it on. The ibuprofen had miraculously made his head feel better, but this conversation was bringing it back, and quickly.

“Not everyone, no, but Sebastien does, yeah,” Pierre told him honestly. “He may not have any actual feelings for you, but he thinks you're hot, he told me so, and he's really sexually frustrated. I guarantee you if I wouldn't mind, he'd have sex with you in a heartbeat.”

“Well even if that's true, you're not okay with it,” David told him strongly, turning to face him with a fiery glare. “So he would never kiss me,” he finished, before storming away and coming to a stop in the living room.

“Yeah, I know,” Pierre said, though his voice was still tense and angry. “It was stupid to hit him, but I just saw you two like that and I freaked out.”

“You don't trust me,” David said blankly, and though he sounded angry, most of him was crying inside; he knew that he didn't deserve Pierre's trust, because he'd done much worse than kiss Sebastien.

“Of course I do... it's everyone else I don't trust,” Pierre said, his voice softening. His hands came to rest on David's shoulders as he stood behind him, looking down at his soft, wet, black fauxhawk. “I know you'd never cheat on me,” Pierre added, smiling softly, and gently he began to run his fingers through the smaller boy's hair.

The touch; the softness of his voice; the words; David just couldn't take it anymore. He closed his eyes and began to breathe raggedly as tears began to prickle behind his closed eyelids. After all that time, almost three months of keeping this monster inside of him, the time had come when he just couldn't keep going on. It was about to come spilling out of him, Pierre was going to leave him, and it was the only choice he had left.

Pierre, hearing David's irregular breaths, pulled his eyebrows together in confusion and squeezed David's shoulder harder. “David?” he asked, all thoughts of what they'd been talking about before fleeing his mind immediately. “David, look at me,” Pierre told him, and gently he forced him around, though David didn't look up. He kept his face down, trying to hide the tears now streaming down his cheeks, though Pierre could see them perfectly. “What's wrong?” Pierre asked gently.

“You shouldn't trust me,” David said weakly, and he looked further down, hunching into himself in shame.

“What are you talking about?” Pierre asked, bewildered.

“You said... t-that I would n-never ch-cheat on you b-but...” David stammered out in a whisper, and Pierre felt as if his heart stopped in his chest. His lips parted, his eyes deadened, and every ounce of his breath got caught in his throat while he waited for David to finish what he had started to say, what he should have known was true. The change in behavior, the distance he put between them, how little they'd been having sex, sometimes less than once a week; looking back on it, Pierre felt he should've known. “I-I... graduation night, I...” David started, and slowly he opened his eyes and looked up sadly at Pierre. The look in Pierre's eyes, like a mixture of anger, hurt and defeat, absolutely killed David, and his tears began to fall faster.

“Say it, David,” Pierre said sternly.

“Pierre.. please...” David whispered, his hands moving up to press against Pierre's chest, but Pierre shook his head and pulled away.

“Say it, David!” Pierre yelled at him, fighting his hardest against the tears in his eyes. He'd never cried in front of David, and if David had done what Pierre knew he'd done, he wasn't going to let him see how much it hurt him. Pierre Bouvier wasn't weak. When David continued to stare at Pierre, crying helplessly, Pierre couldn't keep it inside any longer. He couldn't take the waiting. He was going to push David to tell him the truth if that's what it would take to get it. “You cheated on me?” he asked harshly, his voice full of bitter resentment.

David's body shook with sobs as he nodded his head, giving off a whispered, “...yes.”

And though he'd known it was true, hearing it confirmed from David's lips was like a dagger in Pierre's heart. His face crumpled and his eyes filled even more rapidly with tears, tears that he refused to let out. “With Troy?” he asked, forcing his voice to be tough, much tougher than he felt.

“...yes,” David whispered again, his arms snaking around himself and grasping desperately at his own sides. If he'd thought keeping it inside had been torture, it was nothing compared to seeing the hurt and anger in Pierre's eyes.

“Did you kiss him?” Pierre asked quickly; it killed David to have to nod in response. “Did you fuck him?” Pierre continued ruthlessly, though David didn't have it in him to answer him. When he did nothing but stare at him, Pierre moved forward and grabbed onto David's arms, holding him hard; he couldn't tell if David was shaking on his own, or if it was a result of his own trembling hands. Under the pressure of Pierre's large hands, which were grabbing his arms so hard he felt that he might have bruises from his fingertips later, David felt fear welling upside of him. He'd never been afraid of Pierre before; it wasn't something that he enjoyed in the slightest. When David did nothing but stare up at Pierre, timid and frightened, Pierre shook him once hard, his voice loud and strong as he screamed, “DID YOU FUCK HIM?” David gave a frightened sob and closed his eyes tight, shrinking into himself and trying to shy away from Pierre's grasp. “JUST FUCKING TELL ME!” Pierre screamed, shaking David again.

“YES!” David sobbed hysterically. He felt himself stumbling backward, having been shoved away by Pierre, who instantly turned his back and walked across the room, coming to a stop in front of the desk. Slowly he lowered himself and placed his hands on the wood, his eyes falling closed. He wanted to fall to the ground and curl into himself and sob, but he wouldn't do that. He couldn't do that. The more he held back his pain and need to cry, the angrier he became. He could feel himself shaking as he pushed back his tears. How could his heart be beating so fast, when surely it should have shattered into a million pieces and ceased to be? To think of David in Troy's arms, being held by him, being caressed by him, being kissed by him, hearing that Troy loved him, quite possibly telling Troy he loved him back; it all made him furious... furiously hurt.

David stood with his hand on his chest, breathing hard and staring at Pierre's hunched form. God, was he crying? David had never seen him cry before, just the mere thought of Pierre crying was terribly heart breaking. Though he thought it might not be a good idea, David slowly approached Pierre, still curled into himself and becoming more nervous the closer he got. His arms still ached from Pierre's fingers, painful reminders of how much pain he'd caused his boyfriend. “P-Pierre?” David whispered weakly.

Pierre closed his eyes against the sound of David's voice; it was terrible to think that David's voice was the last thing he wanted to hear in that moment, not only that, it was making him angrier... dangerously angry. "Three months," he whispered, shaking harder. "You hid this from me... you lied to me... for three months..."

“I'm sorry," David breathed weakly. "I'm so, so sorry..." When his words were met with nothing but silence, David felt himself getting even more scared. "Pierre?” David tried again in a scared whisper. Slowly, he reached forward and placed his hand on Pierre's shoulder; the second his fingers made contact with Pierre's t-shirt, he knew it was the wrong thing to do.

A spike of anger, a flood of black, a rush of hot colors, and all of a sudden Pierre had spun on the spot and the back of his hand had come hard across David's face. He watched David falling to the ground as if he was standing outside his own body, watching from above. He watched David grasp his face and look slowly up at him, his eyes wide, his body shaking, tears pouring from his eyes. That look in his eyes, the absolute fear, snapped everything back into place for Pierre in one moment. “Oh my God, David,” Pierre breathed, and he fell to the floor, crawling quickly toward David. David shook his head and frantically backed away, scooting as quickly as he could across the floor, never taking his hand from his burning face. “David, I-I'm sorry,” Pierre whispered, following after him desperately.

When David felt his back hit a wall, a soft whimper escaped him and he drew his knees to his chest and buried his face in them, feeling fear building up inside of him. The sound of Pierre's voice made him flinch, and when Pierre's hands were on his body, trying to force him out of his ball, David began to sob harder than he'd ever sobbed in his life. He would've never imagined Pierre laying a finger against him. If anyone had asked if Pierre would ever hurt him, before that moment, David's answer would've been no. Now Pierre as no different than Troy, no different than David's father, no different than any bully who had ever pushed David down with angry fists.

The sound of David's sobs tore at Pierre's insides like a broken bottle. Suddenly he couldn't stop himself from crying; it didn't occur to him for a second to try. “D-David, I-I'm so sorry,” Pierre cried, still trying with gentle hands to pull David up, but the more he touched David, the more he seemed to retreat into himself, afraid of the one man who probably loved David the most in the world. The injustice of it drew another shaky sob from deep in Pierre's chest.

Pierre's sobs, something that David had never heard before, calmed David's shaking nerves slightly. Slowly he looked up, his eyes red and swollen from crying, his cheeks slick with tears. Though he never thought Pierre would hurt him like that, and though he never thought Pierre could make him feel this way, at the same time, David's warped mind believed that he deserved it. It was something he was used to now, something that Troy had gotten him strangely accustomed to: the idea that he deserved to be hit sometimes. When he did things that he knew Troy wouldn't like, he knew he would be hit. How was this situation any different? He had cheated on Pierre... of course he deserved to be hit.

Pierre couldn't stop staring at what he'd done to David's face. Normally so smooth and pale, the left side of his face bore a large red mark, obviously made by a hand, and just below his eye was already beginning to bruise. When Pierre raised a hand to touch the spot gingerly, David flinched away from him, his eyes falling closed instinctively; Pierre parted his lips and cried harder at this.

The front door opening drew Pierre's attention, though David simply covered his face and hid again, attempting to turn his head as far away from where he knew Sebastien and Patrick were now standing, not noticing that the two men were holding hands. Pierre backed away slightly, feeling shame tearing through him, and he couldn't take his eyes off of Patrick and Sebastien, who were staring between Pierre, whose face was covered in tears, and David, who was clutching desperately to his cheek. It didn't take a rocket scientist to look at the scene from an outsider's perspective and figure out what had happened.

And then something happened that no one would have expected: Sebastien lunged forward, anger coursing through him. Patrick grabbed onto Sebastien's chest, holding fast to him, unwilling to let him attack Pierre, who stood and stumbled backward, not stopping until his back hit the wall. “Get the fuck away from him!” Sebastien yelled, his arms flailing, though reaching Pierre would've been impossible.

“N-no...” David cried, dropping his hand and looking up at Pierre from the floor. “Please... don't leave me...” David begged in a whisper, his words distorted through a shaking sob.

But Pierre wasn't looking at David; he couldn't bring himself to see what he'd done to his boyfriend. “I didn't mean to,” he whispered as more tears flowed from his eyes, falling effortlessly down his cheeks. “It was an accident...” he continued desperately.

“You accidentally HIT him?!” Sebastien screamed, ignoring the way David flinched at the sound of his voice, or the way Pierre's face crumpled and he began to sob in earnest.

“I-I... d-didn't mean to...” Pierre breathed again, his words choppy and weak.

“Pierre man, maybe it's best if you leave for right now,” Patrick warned him calmly; he alone seemed to be the only one holding it together.

“Please don't go,” David whispered, though soon Pierre was storming past, sobbing hard. He didn't pause to look behind as David grabbed at his pant leg; he didn't stop when David desperately called out to him. “Pierre!” Soon he was out the door, not closing it behind him. The second he disappeared around the corner, David fell into himself and let go of every ounce of dignity he had left. He sobbed into his knees, feeling as if his body had simply gone numb. He hardly felt it when arms were wrapped around him; he hardly heard it when Patrick was speaking calmly in his ear, telling him everything would be okay.

“N-no it w-won't!” David sobbed pathetically, and though he barely felt him, David leaned over and collapsed into Patrick's arms, allowing the man to hold him while Sebastien poked gently at the bruise just under David's eye. “I-I ch-cheated o-on him! I deserve to be h-hit! He sh-should hit me a-again!” he cried, though his words were getting harder to understand with each syllable that he spoke.

“David, no one ever deserves to be hit,” Sebastien said strongly.

“You were just gonna hit Pierre,” Patrick pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you, Pat. Now's not the time to defy me,” Sebastien warned quickly.

David, ignoring their little spat, lifted his head and sat up straight, though his hands grasped desperately at Patrick's shirt. “He's gonna come back, right?” David breathed shakily. Sebastien and Patrick exchanged nervous looks. “I-I'll call him right now! I-I'll tell him th... that it's okay! And I'll m-make him come back... h-he has to come back...” David whispered desperately, tears still streaming down his cheeks. Sebastien thought David looked a little bit crazy as his brow furrowed, his lip began to tremble and he whispered, “...he has to come back...”
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