Each Night - Chapter 01
Title: Each Night
Author: Viv
Genre: drama, angst, smutt, fluff
Rating: R/NC-17
Fandom: Simple Plan [music - band]
Pairing: David/Sebastien
Disclaimer: *shakes head* of course they're mine, like, DUH!
Summary: This was how it was to be whenever the door was closed and locked and the sun went down. [multi-chaptered: 1/2.]
Dedications: _daretoglance (because it was her birthday last month, and gee, I really am slow, am I not?), lovestephenking (so she can forgive me for not being able to be online much anymore…) and spurnd (just because!).
This was what you were at each night.
His warm, slightly tanned skin against your smooth and pale one and his hips pushing into yours while you both moaned quietly as he left temporary faint marks that disappeared before the night ended on your shoulders with his short nails digging into them.
This was how it was every night.
In each hotel room you shared, this was how it was to be whenever the door was closed and locked and the sun went down.
Having sex. What else could you call it? Granted, there was no actual penetration whatsoever, but this was still sex. Sex implied that both persons were naked and had physical contact, engaging themselves into pleasurable activities.
Check, check and check.
Arousal? Check.
Heat? Check.
Sweat? Check.
Your inability to keep your eyes open and the tiny stars that appeared behind them when you would silently come? Check.
Your hate for him? Check, check and check.
Sometimes you thought that he did it on purpose.
Breaking you.
Breaking your heart at whatever chance he could get and leaving you lying there, to bleed and suffer.
This was how it was each night, him slamming his hips into yours, sweat pouring over naked bodies while you ground back into him and bit down into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder.
But you never left any mark behind. You knew he was not yours.
Your lips never met his.
Best friends always fall in love… but whoever said it was always reciprocal?
And since when did a best friend break one’s heart over and over again? Since when did a best friend completely ignore how you felt when you cried each night in the shower, underneath the stream of scorching hot water spraying on you?
And so you hated him.
For thinking that this was all some kind of “best friends with benefits” relationship while you hid tears behind your smiles and tried to push out of your mind the idea of ever being his boyfriend.
And so one night, it simply slipped out while he was naked above you and tugging at your boxers.
“I hate you…” you whispered in your broken voice.
He froze, slowly looked up and stared at you, confusion clouding his gaze.
“I hate you so much.”
Your voice was low, raspy but clear, no longer hiding the anger and pain inside of you.
“I hate you.”
And for the first time in your life you could read his face. Really read him.
He slowly got off of you and backed away, gathering the blankets and pulling them over his naked body, gaze set on you.
“Why?” his voice cracked and you winced. You hated yourself for hating the way he reacted.
You suddenly noticed the light trembling of his hands. You realized soon after that his shoulders had started shaking.
“Why?” he whispered again, this time looking away.
And then you recognized the emotions that you knew all too well running through his eyes.
Because you saw them each day reflected back at you whenever you were alone and looking at yourself in a mirror.
Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Pain.
And if you hadn’t known him so well, you would’ve thought you’d seen tears.
He turned back to you, his eyes closing briefly.
Tears?
You could see small droplets collecting at the corner of his blue, deep clear blue eyes and suddenly your heart constricted inside your chest and you hated yourself even more.
You hadn’t expected him to react this way.
You hadn’t even expected him to react at all.
And you hadn’t expected yourself to feel so guilty.
You watched him for a moment longer before slowly looking away, your hazel eyes staring out the windows of the hotel room, out in the dark.
He was so beautiful sitting there, like a wingless fallen angel, the light of the moon playing with his features.
You heard your voice coming out in a murmur.
“Why do you do this to me?”
His eyes were still were still fixed on you, hands gripping the blanket covering the lower part of his naked, well-built body. You glanced back at him before turning away again, refusing to meet his gaze as you felt yourself fighting back your own tears.
“How do you see me? Who… What do you see me as, Sébastien? What?”
A moment of painful silence.
Hands balled in fists, you squeezed your eyes tightly shut before a lone tear made its way down your cheek.
And before you knew what was happened, you were pressed down into the mattress, his lips devouring yours and you were involuntarily answering to his tongue with your own, blinded by arousal and need.
Because as much as you hated him, you still needed him.
And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t push him away.
You never knew what his lips tasted of until now, you never knew how they felt against yours.
You’ve only dreamed of it for so long.
His hands played at the hem of your black boxers, tugging on it before finally slipping his fingers inside and running them over the smooth skin of your stomach and around your belly button, making you shiver, until he finally rested his palms down over your hipbones as he straddled you, your legs between his knees.
He then leaned down, his lips hovering right beside your ear, his warm breath causing you eyes to slip shut as he murmured something that you knew he was voicing for the first time ever. You knew it by the way he said it.
So timid. So innocent. So desperate.
“Claim me. Claim me as yours… Make me yours… Only yours, David.”
Your forgot to breathe for a moment.
You knew then that he had been keeping those words for you and that they were meant for you and only you alone.
---
December 8, 2004
Author: Viv
Genre: drama, angst, smutt, fluff
Rating: R/NC-17
Fandom: Simple Plan [music - band]
Pairing: David/Sebastien
Disclaimer: *shakes head* of course they're mine, like, DUH!
Summary: This was how it was to be whenever the door was closed and locked and the sun went down. [multi-chaptered: 1/2.]
Dedications: _daretoglance (because it was her birthday last month, and gee, I really am slow, am I not?), lovestephenking (so she can forgive me for not being able to be online much anymore…) and spurnd (just because!).
This was what you were at each night.
His warm, slightly tanned skin against your smooth and pale one and his hips pushing into yours while you both moaned quietly as he left temporary faint marks that disappeared before the night ended on your shoulders with his short nails digging into them.
This was how it was every night.
In each hotel room you shared, this was how it was to be whenever the door was closed and locked and the sun went down.
Having sex. What else could you call it? Granted, there was no actual penetration whatsoever, but this was still sex. Sex implied that both persons were naked and had physical contact, engaging themselves into pleasurable activities.
Check, check and check.
Arousal? Check.
Heat? Check.
Sweat? Check.
Your inability to keep your eyes open and the tiny stars that appeared behind them when you would silently come? Check.
Your hate for him? Check, check and check.
Sometimes you thought that he did it on purpose.
Breaking you.
Breaking your heart at whatever chance he could get and leaving you lying there, to bleed and suffer.
This was how it was each night, him slamming his hips into yours, sweat pouring over naked bodies while you ground back into him and bit down into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder.
But you never left any mark behind. You knew he was not yours.
Your lips never met his.
Best friends always fall in love… but whoever said it was always reciprocal?
And since when did a best friend break one’s heart over and over again? Since when did a best friend completely ignore how you felt when you cried each night in the shower, underneath the stream of scorching hot water spraying on you?
And so you hated him.
For thinking that this was all some kind of “best friends with benefits” relationship while you hid tears behind your smiles and tried to push out of your mind the idea of ever being his boyfriend.
And so one night, it simply slipped out while he was naked above you and tugging at your boxers.
“I hate you…” you whispered in your broken voice.
He froze, slowly looked up and stared at you, confusion clouding his gaze.
“I hate you so much.”
Your voice was low, raspy but clear, no longer hiding the anger and pain inside of you.
“I hate you.”
And for the first time in your life you could read his face. Really read him.
He slowly got off of you and backed away, gathering the blankets and pulling them over his naked body, gaze set on you.
“Why?” his voice cracked and you winced. You hated yourself for hating the way he reacted.
You suddenly noticed the light trembling of his hands. You realized soon after that his shoulders had started shaking.
“Why?” he whispered again, this time looking away.
And then you recognized the emotions that you knew all too well running through his eyes.
Because you saw them each day reflected back at you whenever you were alone and looking at yourself in a mirror.
Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Pain.
And if you hadn’t known him so well, you would’ve thought you’d seen tears.
He turned back to you, his eyes closing briefly.
Tears?
You could see small droplets collecting at the corner of his blue, deep clear blue eyes and suddenly your heart constricted inside your chest and you hated yourself even more.
You hadn’t expected him to react this way.
You hadn’t even expected him to react at all.
And you hadn’t expected yourself to feel so guilty.
You watched him for a moment longer before slowly looking away, your hazel eyes staring out the windows of the hotel room, out in the dark.
He was so beautiful sitting there, like a wingless fallen angel, the light of the moon playing with his features.
You heard your voice coming out in a murmur.
“Why do you do this to me?”
His eyes were still were still fixed on you, hands gripping the blanket covering the lower part of his naked, well-built body. You glanced back at him before turning away again, refusing to meet his gaze as you felt yourself fighting back your own tears.
“How do you see me? Who… What do you see me as, Sébastien? What?”
A moment of painful silence.
Hands balled in fists, you squeezed your eyes tightly shut before a lone tear made its way down your cheek.
And before you knew what was happened, you were pressed down into the mattress, his lips devouring yours and you were involuntarily answering to his tongue with your own, blinded by arousal and need.
Because as much as you hated him, you still needed him.
And as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t push him away.
You never knew what his lips tasted of until now, you never knew how they felt against yours.
You’ve only dreamed of it for so long.
His hands played at the hem of your black boxers, tugging on it before finally slipping his fingers inside and running them over the smooth skin of your stomach and around your belly button, making you shiver, until he finally rested his palms down over your hipbones as he straddled you, your legs between his knees.
He then leaned down, his lips hovering right beside your ear, his warm breath causing you eyes to slip shut as he murmured something that you knew he was voicing for the first time ever. You knew it by the way he said it.
So timid. So innocent. So desperate.
“Claim me. Claim me as yours… Make me yours… Only yours, David.”
Your forgot to breathe for a moment.
You knew then that he had been keeping those words for you and that they were meant for you and only you alone.
---
December 8, 2004