Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 4349
Summary: David Desrosiers isn't your typical sixteen year old boy living in Juneau, Alaska. Bullied relentlessly by Pierre Bouvier, a boy he's known since elementary school, David and his best friend Jenny come up with a back-handed plan to seek revenge on the boy who makes their lives a living Hell.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, didn't happen!
Author's Note: So I left my computer at my mom's house back in Oregon when I was visiting this last week, but luckily enough I already had chapter eleven written and my mom was nice enough to forward it to me! And until I get my computer back, I can use my fiance's laptop! So onward and upwards!
In all the time Pierre and David had spent together, whether it was to study, play hockey, work out, or even to just have fun, very little of it had ever been spent at Pierre's house. In fact, the only time that David had ever been to Pierre's house was on Christmas, to have dinner with the older boy's family; watching the three of them interact that day, David could understand why. It wasn't that Pierre's parents were bad parents, or that they tried too hard to be “hip”, because really they were both pretty easy to talk to. No, it seemed to David that Mr. and Mrs. Bouvier were simply guilty of loving their son too much, and wanting to give him everything they never achieved themselves. They had very high expectations of him, expectations that he would follow in his father's footsteps, go to an Ivy League college and get a doctorate in something respectable that would pay well; it was clear to see that neither one of his parents saw hockey anywhere in Pierre's future.
Pierre's father came off as a driven, well educated man, the kind that came from “old money”, if such a thing still existed, while his mother was overbearingly sweet and accommodating, with a soft, high-pitched voice and a string of perfect, white pearls around her neck to really top the picture off. Stepping foot into that large, gorgeous, perfect house was like stepping into an old black and white film, David thought. It was nice in a nostalgic kind of way, nice to think that families could still function this way, but at the same time there was something fake about it that made David uncomfortable.
So, as he stood standing on Pierre's doorway with his hand raised as if to knock, it didn't really come as a surprise to David that he was a bit uncomfortable. David saw only one car in the driveway and wondered what that meant. What if he had beaten Pierre home? How awkward would he feel if he had to go sit in Pierre's room alone and wait for him to get home? Or even worse, if he had to try and make prolonged conversation with the Bouviers? With a knot in his stomach—a knot that, perhaps, had been tied by something a little bit more than just the thought of Pierre's parents—he knocked three times.
Footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door and David straightened himself out, pulling up his black skinny jeans a little bit, pulling down on the hem of his dark blue henley t-shirt, pushing the sleeves up quickly to elbow length, then shaking his head at himself and pulling them back down, and adjusting the grey vest he wore over the long-sleeved tee. He had just moved his hands to make sure that his short, black hair was styled in a respectable fashion when the door started to open and he threw his arms back down by his sides, trying to look casual and failing miserably at it.
To his extreme relief, it was Pierre that answered the door, and David wondered if Pierre knew what he had just been doing. There was an amused kind of smirk on his face, paired with a strange softness in his eyes, almost like endearment. If he didn't know any better, David might have thought that Pierre adored him.
“Took you long enough, bro,” Pierre said casually, and just like that, the short-lived idea that he could have been looking at David in any way other than platonic was wiped from David's mind.
“Sorry,” David replied with a roll of his eyes and a small smile.
Pierre took a step back and David followed his unspoken instructions, moving into the house past Pierre. As he passed him, David felt his shoulder graze Pierre's chest and he felt a sudden flutter in his stomach that sent heat rushing to his face. David kept his face turned away and continued to move forward slowly, hoping to get his complexion under control before Pierre noticed that he was blushing.
Silence filled the room, a silence that felt like it lasted forever. Pierre didn't move to stand near David, nor did he bother to say anything, something which filled David with a weird sense of dread. Why wasn't Pierre saying anything to him? His arms wound their way insecurely around his stomach as his fear effectively drained all color from his face. If it wasn't for the sudden sense of doubt that surrounded Pierre's mysterious silent treatment, he would have been grateful for the quick anti-blush.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Pierre's voice broke the silence, and his voice was much closer than David had realized. He made a small jump and gasp, turning quickly to find that Pierre was standing right behind him. “Sorry,” he added with a soft chuckle and a beautiful glimmer in his eyes.
David returned the laugh, though it sounded breathy and nervous. “It's fine,” was the only thing his mind would give him, though he hardly realized he had suddenly become so dazed.
Pierre's smile was all too knowing as he positioned himself more squarely in front of David, standing so closely that the room began to feel fuzzy on David's cheeks, and all sound outside of the two of them seemed to be muted. Everything within their little bubble, however, felt louder, somehow; the sound of Pierre's breath, slow and steady, felt as if it filled his head and made his veins tingle, while the sound of his own nervous breath sounded ragged, making it impossible to deny how obvious he was, which only made his heart beat harder and his cheeks flush more deeply. Still, right that second, David didn't think to be embarrassed about it. All he could see was Pierre, whose chocolate eyes continuously moved from David's own hazel eyes, down to his lips for a brief moment, and then back again. Here it was for the second time, so plainly clear that David could practically taste it coming: Pierre wanted to kiss him.
The sound of a car pulling up to the driveway dimly registered in the back of his mind, but he didn't really become aware of it until there was a loud knocking on the door. Pierre stood still for a moment longer, staring down at David as he swirled on the spot to look at the door. Before he had turned back around, David felt a whoosh of air and knew that Pierre was moving away from him. His stomach clenched and his heart throbbed uncomfortably at the sudden distance between them and he bit down on his lip, his mind consumed by the perfect moment that had just been ruined. Pierre had been about to kiss him, and that time David had actually been ready for it.
Get yourself together! David yelled at himself internally, half watching as Pierre opened the door to reveal a pizza delivery woman. He closed his eyes, balled his fists and took deep, steadying breaths, not paying attention to Pierre exchanging money for a pizza that he had clearly ordered before David had arrived. Don't be stupid. Just keep everything together. You can do this.
“Who can do what?” Pierre asked, closing the front door with a soft 'click'.
David's eyes shot open and he blushed hard. “What?” his voice snapped frantically.
“You said, 'you can do this',” Pierre repeated, not phased by David's erratic behavior. Regardless, David was horrified. He had been spending so much time alone that he couldn't even control which thoughts came out of his mouth anymore, apparently. “Who can do what?” Pierre asked again. He motioned forward with his head and walked through the house, not waiting to see if David was behind him or not.
For a moment, he wasn't. He focused on his breathing, feeling ridiculous and stupid and hating himself all in that moment. When had he turned into such a nervous, love struck teenager? Nobody had ever made him act this way. Then again, nobody had ever made him feel the way that Pierre made him feel. With a deep breath in that he held onto for a few seconds longer than necessary, David followed after Pierre.
“Nothing, I was just thinking about something else,” David said in a dismissive manner before sitting down next to Pierre on the couch. He had been careful not to sit too closely, but also not to sit too far away so as to look suspicious.
Pierre nodded and didn't appear to give it a second thought, something that David really appreciated about the older boy. When he could tell that David didn't want to talk about something, for the most part he would let it go. It was such a change from his chatty best friend that often times long silences—like the one when he had first gotten into the house—worried him that he had done something wrong, when in actuality, sometimes Pierre was just quiet. It was different, but at the same time, David liked it.
“Hungry?” Pierre asked as he picked up a slice of pizza.
“Uh, sure,” David replied timidly before taking his own slice.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, and the whole time David's mind was on Pierre's, wondering what he was thinking about and if he had really been trying to kiss him before or if he had just gotten overly excited about nothing. If the kiss never happened, it was easier for David to change how things happened in his mind, to tell himself that he had just been imagining things and that under no circumstances would Pierre Bouvier ever have feelings for him. There had once been a time when he could have added a “Vice Versa” to that, but long gone were the days of denying that he was head over heels for the senior.
“So what happened?” Pierre asked, and David sat up a little straighter and blushed again.
He scoured over the past minute, wondering if he had slipped and thought aloud again without meaning to, but he couldn't remember speaking. “What happened... what?” was his only response, and even though he hadn't really made much sense, Pierre understood his meaning perfectly.
“With Jenny,” Pierre elaborated, giving David a sudden peace of mind. He hadn't said anything out loud, thank God. “You guys had a fight?”
But then the sadness that he had been ignoring came back to him and he remembered their argument. Being in Pierre's presence had completely wiped any other thought from his mind, as it often did as of late, and for a while he had forgotten that he and Jenny were no longer friends. “Yeah,” he replied, looking down at the half-eaten piece of crust in his hands.
“Why?” Pierre asked softly.
The question set David's mind spinning. There was no way that he could tell Pierre the truth about what they had fought over, but for this issue, he didn't think that the other boy would be pleased without an answer. The only time Pierre didn't like to let things go seemed to be when it was about something really important. “It's... It was stupid,” David replied, deciding to go for some semblance of the truth. “She... she doesn't like you. And she doesn't want us to be... friends.” Every word he spoke was careful. Fear clutched at him as he did his best to dance around his feelings for Pierre as well as the plans he and Jenny had concocted to ruin the boy's life.
Those two words were followed by a long silent spell, something which the two seemed to excel at. When the silence was broken, it was Pierre who had spoken again.
“Do you think you'll ever make up?”
David shook his head slowly, refusing to look up, though he could feel Pierre's eyes watching his face. “Even if we could... I'm starting to wonder if it's worth it,” David admitted, catching himself a little off guard at the thought.
“You guys have been friends for a long time,” Pierre countered gently.
“Yes, but... She doesn't really care about my happiness. I mean, she does but at the same time, she cares more about herself. If it's not in her plans for me, I'm not doing what's right. She wants me to be happy as long as what makes me happy is also what makes her happy. She hates me playing hockey and I'm like... Why can't she just be happy for me? I'm good at something for once... Like, really good at it. It comes naturally to me somehow and it makes me feel... alive and... normal.” It wasn't until the words had come out that David realized they were true. He swallowed hard and looked off to the side, for a moment forgetting that Pierre was there.
“It's not the only thing you're good at,” Pierre told him, catching David by surprise. He turned to look at Pierre, his lips parted slightly and his breath steady. “You're great at a lot of things... But that's not really the point, I guess. If you feel like she's not being fair to you, that's your call. I'm not judging either way.”
David didn't think he would be able to explain to Pierre just how much that meant to him. The last person who had really accepted him for who he was and what actions he wanted to take had been his mother. Yes, Jenny had been there for him and supported him, but only so long as he was fulfilling the plan that she had for him. He had been wrong in the past when he thought that he had always been free, because Jenny had always been a little bit bossy and opinionated, and he had never really noticed it until just at that moment.
David took a steadying breath and looked around, wanting to change the subject to something less heavy. “Where are your parents?” he asked, only just now remembering their absence on a Friday night.
“Out of town,” Pierre replied nonchalantly, and he turned away from David, picking up a video game controller and starting a game.
“Are they gonna be back for the game tomorrow?” David added thoughtfully, picking up his own controller.
“Nah,” Pierre replied casually. David turned to look again at Pierre, chewing on his bottom lip. Pierre simply shrugged and neither one said anything more on the subject, not wanting the night to become any more of a bummer than it already had.
The next few hours were rather uneventful, though it couldn't be said that David didn't enjoy himself. They ate pizza, drank soda and played video games, having unimportant conversations here and there and laughing a lot. For the time being, David wasn't thinking about hockey, or Jenny, or the hair-brained plans they had come up with for unseating King Pierre Bouvier from his throne. Instead, he simply enjoyed himself, giving into the wonderful way Pierre's presence made his heart soar. For the time being, things were uncomplicated and sweet, and David wanted to savor every second of it that he could.
Then came a moment where the next game was loading, nothing had been said for a few minutes, and no laugh had left either of them. David's attention was drawn back to Pierre when he heard the soft clicking of a controller being placed down on the glass coffee table before them. David turned his body to better face Pierre and shot him a quizzical look, a look which only intensified at the way that Pierre was looking back at him. He wore contemplation on his features, with a touch of sadness and the slightest hint of fear; the look intrigued David.
“What's up?” David asked, trying to sound casual but failing to mask his curiosity.
“Why do you like me?”
Pierre's question shocked David and instantly his heart was pounding and his face was hot. “Wha... What do you mean?” he breathed out in response.
“I've been nothing but cruel to you, yet here you are. I just don't get it. Why would you like me? As a friend or as a person?” Pierre pondered, sounding guarded, but not so much that David couldn't also hear the yearning to have his question answered.
“You apologized,” David offered softly.
“Yeah I know,” Pierre's reply was dismissive, as if he thought that it shouldn't have made a difference. “But there's a difference between accepting someone's apology and actually liking them...”
David didn't know what to do with himself. This was only one out of a handful of times that he had seen this softer side of Pierre, and this was perhaps the most nerve wracking. “Come on, this isn't the Pierre Bouvier I know,” David told him, and as if he couldn't help it, his hand found its way to Pierre's forearm. His fingers curved softly over the other boy's skin, sending tingles running up his limbs and into his chest. Pierre looked down at the contact, his eyes staring in a far-off fashion. “The Pierre Bouvier I know is strong and confident,” David continued, and suddenly Pierre's other hand moved to rest on top of David's on his arm. David swallowed hard and continued, moving a little bit closer and leaning his face down ever so slightly so that he could see Pierre's down-turned face better. “He's smart, even though he doesn't think so. He's funny and kind... when he wants to be.” A soft laugh followed and he leaned a little bit further down, enough to see that Pierre wore a soft smile.
Then Pierre moved his face up and suddenly the world got a bit thicker. David straightened up with him, following after him like a lost puppy, who could suddenly think about nothing other than how close their lips were, or how warm Pierre's breath was against his skin, or how deep and tender Pierre's eyes looked. Pierre's eyes closed a fraction and he moved forward timidly, stopping when his nose brushed David's and made him take a soft, nervous gasp. He wanted to crash his lips into Pierre's—to feel his body heat up against the older boy's—but there was something amazingly mind-numbing about the wait. He could hear how much Pierre wanted it in his breath, he could feel it in Pierre's shaking hand on top of his, and in the warmth blossoming off of his body. It was a surreal kind of moment, to know completely for the first time that Pierre really did want David just as badly as David wanted Pierre, and to know that this time, there would be no stopping it. It was going to happen, it was only a matter of time.
And then Pierre moved forward again, closing the short distance between them and causing David's breath to catch in his throat. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the kiss, his hand still gripping at Pierre's arm as if it was the only thing holding him to the planet. His chest exploded in a flurry of heat and flapping wings, making him feel like he was flying, falling, and smoldering all at once; it felt so good he could have cried.
When Pierre's hand moved to his cheek, David felt like there were currents of electricity running through each of the senior's fingers, shocking his skin in the lightest, most enjoyable way he had ever experienced, and he leaned his face further into Pierre's hand, relishing the feeling. Pierre seemed to take that as a good sign, for soon after, he was pulling David's face deeper into his kiss with one hand, while the other moved to the junior's lower back and pulled him in closer, so close that David could do nothing but climb onto Pierre's lap and straddle him, all the while never breaking their kiss.
As if called by the same need, their mouths opened and their tongues met, pressing timidly against each other at first, before Pierre's dominance took over and he was kissing David hard, his hand moving to the back of David's neck and into his hair, pulling him in closer. The feel of Pierre's other hand on his back—moving down to slip under his shirt and press into his hot skin—made David's head spin and he yearned to be closer, to touch every part of Pierre that there was to touch and be touched in all the same places in return. He gave into his desires, allowing his kiss to be wild, and his hands to be desperate. He placed his hand on the back of Pierre's head and grabbed a handful of hair, kissing him more passionately than he had ever kissed anyone, while his other hand rested against Pierre's chest, his fingers digging into his skin and feeling the strong muscles underneath with a quiver in his stomach. He never wanted this to end.
But of course, like any unspoken fear, exactly what he didn't want to happen was exactly what did happen. His phone began to ring in his pocket, and though he was perfectly content to ignore it, Pierre moved to pull away from his kiss.
“David,” Pierre muttered, though the sound of it drove David wild and he shook his head, pulling Pierre back into a kiss which the older boy gladly returned with just as much enthusiasm for a moment. Then he seemed to get control of his thoughts again and Pierre tried to pull away again, laughing softly against David's lips. “David... your... phone...” he continued, speaking between kisses.
“Ignore it,” David spoke so quickly it was almost one word but Pierre smiled a bit wider and shook his head, pulling effectively out of David's embrace this time.
“It could be important,” Pierre told him, and without asking for permission, he reached into David's front pocket and pulled out his cell phone. David blushed hard and felt a pulse run through him, straight to somewhere that he knew it shouldn't have gone yet. Again, without waiting for David to give the OK, Pierre accepted the call and put it to his own ear. “Hello?”
David sighed and watched the other boy, breathing heavily and wishing he had just left his phone at home.
“No, this isn't. Hold on just a second,” Pierre replied to the mystery caller, before holding the phone out to David, who hadn't moved from his spot on Pierre's lap. “It's for you,” he said unhelpfully and David smiled and rolled his eyes, taking the phone from him.
“No kidding...” he trailed off sarcastically, before placing the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he asked softly.
“Is this David Desrosiers?” a woman's voice came to him, and the official tone in her voice cut through the tension and grabbed David's full attention.
“Yes, this is David,” he replied, leaning back from Pierre a little bit.
“This is the Bartlett Regional Hospital in Juneau, Alaska,” the woman's voice explained, and suddenly it felt as if a weigh had dropped into David's stomach. Who was the one person who would have David as an emergency contact? Who would have the hospital call David if anything ever happened to them? He slid to the side off of Pierre's lap, hearing the woman's full explanation and yet not really hearing it at the same time. For a moment, he was in a state of shock.
“I understand,” was the last thing he said, before he dropped the phone from his face and let the call disconnect.
“David, what happened?” Pierre's voice cut into his thoughts, and David looked up with tears in his eyes.
All of a sudden, David was up and moving out of the room, headed back toward the front of the house and speaking frantically. “It's my dad. They have him at the hospital. There was an accident on the boat and he had to be air lifted in.”
Pierre had followed right after him, following David out through the front door and to his car, which he had left parked on the street. “Is he...?” Pierre started cautiously, afraid to finish the question.
David shook his head quickly and took a deep breath in. “No, he's fine,” he breathed back out, though he still sounded shaken. “Well, he's fine now. I have to go,” he added as his shaking hands fumbled with his car keys to unlock the door.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Pierre offered, but again, David shook his head in response.
“No, it's fine. I'll be fine,” David replied, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself of just that. He got the door open and started to step into the car, but Pierre's hand on his arm stopped him and David turned back to look at him, seeing him now for the first time since he had gotten the call. For a moment, he allowed himself to get lost again in Pierre's gaze, though the boy's expression had changed to a kind of burning passion and concern that David had never seen on his face before. It was utterly disarming.
“I'll be here, okay? If you need anything...” Pierre trailed off, letting David make his own implications from his words.
The two shared their intense gaze for a moment longer before David nodded and pulled out of Pierre's grasp, getting into the car and rushing himself to the hospital. Luckily his father was out of danger, but it didn't change the fact that just five minutes could have changed everything and left David an orphan. It was with tears on his cheeks that David made his way into the hospital, dreading the emotional roller coaster that he was sure to be thrown onto very shortly. Nothing could have prepared him for this... not even already losing one of his parents. This was something that David just didn't think anyone could ever be ready for.