Take It Slow
Title: Take It Slow
Author: heartbreakhymns
Pairing: David/Pierre
Rating: PG
Chapter: Standalone
Summary: Usually I wouldn't get emotionally distressed over a situation like this, but there was something different about David Philippe Desrosiers; he carried this sort of essence that made me feel ... invincible.
Disclaimer: I own Jeff Stinco's guitar pick, that's it.
"Hush," I whispered, trying to sound reassuring and comforting to the nervous, small blonde boy that lay beneath me on the bed sheets. I lowered my lips back down to his neck, leaving soft and gentle kisses down his smooth, warm skin. I heard him whimper under my touch and I let out a dramatic groan, sitting up on the bed. "David, what is it now?" I asked tiredly and irritated, that was probably the third time I attempted to start something for tonight, and everytime I tried he let out a soft whimper.
His small, muscular chest was heaving heavily in and out as he lay motionless on the bed, the only part of clothing left on him was his jeans. Damn, he looked so good. I was surprised that I guy like him got so nervous over things like this; he should be more confident, if he was he could get anybody he wanted.
"Pierre," David said faintly, almost in distress. He turned his head to the side so one of his cheeks was touching the soft pillow and he closed his eyes. I looked at him with concern, getting a little worried because of his strange antics. Even though my bedroom was dimly lit, I could see a line of sweat appearing on his upper lip. "I-I," He stuttered, seeing water spill out of his closed eyes. "I can't do this," He whispered, sitting up on the bed and looking at me with apologetic eyes. "I'm so sorry," He cried, rushing off of the bed and running for the adjoined bathroom in my room.
"David!" I called, running towards the door and knocking on it. "Babe, open up!" I said calmly, trying to soothe him by not exactly yelling in frustration. Hell, I was frustrated, I've been waiting for this for so long, but I didn't want to scare him off either. So staying calm was probably the best solution to this problem.
Whimpering was evident on the other side of the door, and I just blankly stared at the dull, brown wood as I listened. Why was he crying? Did I do something wrong? "Just go away, Pierre," I heard a soft whisper, but I had to strain my ears in order to hear it. Sobs were now sounding inside the bathroom and a loud groan that came from David sliced through me, as if that agonizing sound scraped each bone in my entire body.
"David, just tell me what's wrong, please?" I cried in desperation, sliding down the door and sitting on the floor as I waited for his response. Usually I wouldn't get emotionally distressed over a situation like this, but there was something different about David Philippe Desrosiers; he carried this sort of essence that made me feel ... invincible. But when he was breaking down; I could feel my heart bleeding inside my chest and the whole sense of security and power vanished.
"Just leave me the fuck alone!" He screamed in distress, the door suddenly jolted, and I assumed he punched or kicked the door. The abrupt movement coming from the door I was leaning against caused me to jolt a little on the floor, and I stared worriedly at the door with a torn face. I wanted to help him, but he obviously didn't want me to; he was pushing me away. Maybe David never really liked me, maybe he was just looking for a blow job since he hasn't been able to get one from a girl in ages. And his last resort was me; stupid, pathetic Pierre Charles Bouvier.
Sighing, I grabbed my Role Model t shirt off of the floor and walked out of my room, slamming the door behind me to make sure he heard it. Even though it was my house, I left, instead of kicking David out; he'll leave when he wants to. And when I return; he'll be gone.
Pulling on my t shirt, I walked aimlessly down the hall to the front door, attempting not to hit or bump into any objects as I was blindly on my way. Unfortunately, I slammed my hip into a something and tripped up in something else, so it sent my whole body to the floor with a crash. Groaning, I picked myself off of the hardwood and pulled my shirt fully down to my hips. I reached the porch and slipped on my black Vans skate shoes and grabbed my hoodie and red and white trucker hat.
Walking out into the dead, starless night, I closed the door behind me and inhaled the crisp, spring air. Zipping up my hoodie and pulling my hood over my trucker hat, I quickly trotted down the pathwalk and out into the isolated streets of the little community Laval in Montreal. I didn't mind walking alone in a big, reputation-destroyed city in the middle of the night. Sighing, I walked to the destination I've grown familiar to when I needed time to think.
After a few minutes, I stepped foot into the alleyway a few blocks away from my home and climbed up onto the dirty, closed dumpster. Just above the dumpster was a ladder belonging to the stairs to the apartment balconies. Jumping powerfully to the ladder, I grabbed onto the bottom rail, pulling in difficulty one by one with my shaking hands to the next bar. Soon enough, I reached the floor and pulled myself up on it, staring blankly out into nothing.
Why was I getting so emotional over this? I felt hot tears glaze over my eyes as I asked myself this. It was rare if I ever got emotionally wrecked by a relationship, I think this was the first time ever that I was feeling depressed over somebody I was currently dating. But when I thought about David, I felt my heart flutter; he was the only thing that ever mattered to me, I came to realize.
"Why did I have to fuck over the only relationship that actually meant something for me?!" I hissed to myself in frustration, balling up my hands in absolute sad rage. "Why did I have to force David to have sex with me? If I just kept it in my pants and waited for him to be ready then we wouldn't be in this situation right now!" I said a little louder, feeling kind of ridiculous that I was talking to myself.
"You're a God damn fuck up! What's the use of you!" I yelled, punching the metal floor under me.
"You're not a fuck up, Pierre," A soft voice entered my ears, I looked to the opening of the alleyway to see David leaning casually against one of the brickwalls, scuffing the pavement with his sneaker. I couldn't see his beautiful face, because the streetlight behind him was making the front of his body a silhouette.
"What are you doing here?" I asked bitterly as I felt more tears sting in my eyes, and soon enough they started to spill down my cheeks. Silence encased the alleyway and I just blankly stared at him, wanting him to answer me with something, anything. I felt my muscles go tense and my fists balled up tighter, so tight that my knuckles were turning white.
"I heard every word you said," He sighed, seeming to ignore my question and pushing himself lightly off of the wall, walking towards me. I watched as he strided towards the dumpster, dangling my feet absentmindedly as I did so. "This isn't your fault," He said modestly, looking straight up at me as he stood beneath me next to the dumpster.
"David," I said sternly, both of us knowing the solid fact that he was lying.
"It isn't!-" He cried, but I got him off.
"David!" I said a little more tensely. This shut him up and he gave a defeated sigh.
"Okay, so maybe it was partially your fault, but it's also me! I'm too insecure for my own good!" He exclaimed, jumping up onto the dumpster and leaping up to the ladder. Gripping onto the bars with great struggle and taking much more time to get up to the floor than I ever did.
"What insecurities?" I asked rhetorically as he sat next to me, giving him an odd glare. He stared back at me with that innocent expression; the one that I always gave in to. "Seriously, what the fuck should you be insecure about," I started to ramble, he just continued to stare at me oddly and raised his brown eyebrows up in disbelief.
"Just me being a pansy for not letting you get in my pants," He sighed, swinging his legs back and forth as he stared out into nothing, but nonetheless, he didn't stare at me. "Plus, now I got you thinking that I don't like you?" David said a little angrily, maybe pissed at the fact that I accused him of something that wasn't true. "Pierre, if you must know the truth - I will always love you," He said softly and passionately, turning to me as he spoke and gripping one of his slender hands into my own.
I found myself getting lost in those incredible brown eyes of his, that unique shade of brown. The only brown eyes I think I would ever fall for. "I'm sorry," I suddenly apologized, wiping away the slow flowing tears with my free hand.
"Don't blame yourself, it's both our faults," David said, stroking his thumb on my hand affectionately; I felt my whole body go numb. "I'm willing to fix this if you are," He whispered, leaving a quick yet passionate kiss on my lips. His lips were so perfectly rounded, and the softest lips I have ever felt. I missed him, and he didn't even leave me.
"Of course." I smiled, a large smile started to tug on the ends of my lips.
"Let's just ... take it slow this time?" He suggested, seeming a little timid about his words.
"Slowing things down sounds perfect to me," I sighed contently, pulling him in between my legs and wrapping my arms around his waist loosely, resting my chin on his shoulder.
Author: heartbreakhymns
Pairing: David/Pierre
Rating: PG
Chapter: Standalone
Summary: Usually I wouldn't get emotionally distressed over a situation like this, but there was something different about David Philippe Desrosiers; he carried this sort of essence that made me feel ... invincible.
Disclaimer: I own Jeff Stinco's guitar pick, that's it.
"Hush," I whispered, trying to sound reassuring and comforting to the nervous, small blonde boy that lay beneath me on the bed sheets. I lowered my lips back down to his neck, leaving soft and gentle kisses down his smooth, warm skin. I heard him whimper under my touch and I let out a dramatic groan, sitting up on the bed. "David, what is it now?" I asked tiredly and irritated, that was probably the third time I attempted to start something for tonight, and everytime I tried he let out a soft whimper.
His small, muscular chest was heaving heavily in and out as he lay motionless on the bed, the only part of clothing left on him was his jeans. Damn, he looked so good. I was surprised that I guy like him got so nervous over things like this; he should be more confident, if he was he could get anybody he wanted.
"Pierre," David said faintly, almost in distress. He turned his head to the side so one of his cheeks was touching the soft pillow and he closed his eyes. I looked at him with concern, getting a little worried because of his strange antics. Even though my bedroom was dimly lit, I could see a line of sweat appearing on his upper lip. "I-I," He stuttered, seeing water spill out of his closed eyes. "I can't do this," He whispered, sitting up on the bed and looking at me with apologetic eyes. "I'm so sorry," He cried, rushing off of the bed and running for the adjoined bathroom in my room.
"David!" I called, running towards the door and knocking on it. "Babe, open up!" I said calmly, trying to soothe him by not exactly yelling in frustration. Hell, I was frustrated, I've been waiting for this for so long, but I didn't want to scare him off either. So staying calm was probably the best solution to this problem.
Whimpering was evident on the other side of the door, and I just blankly stared at the dull, brown wood as I listened. Why was he crying? Did I do something wrong? "Just go away, Pierre," I heard a soft whisper, but I had to strain my ears in order to hear it. Sobs were now sounding inside the bathroom and a loud groan that came from David sliced through me, as if that agonizing sound scraped each bone in my entire body.
"David, just tell me what's wrong, please?" I cried in desperation, sliding down the door and sitting on the floor as I waited for his response. Usually I wouldn't get emotionally distressed over a situation like this, but there was something different about David Philippe Desrosiers; he carried this sort of essence that made me feel ... invincible. But when he was breaking down; I could feel my heart bleeding inside my chest and the whole sense of security and power vanished.
"Just leave me the fuck alone!" He screamed in distress, the door suddenly jolted, and I assumed he punched or kicked the door. The abrupt movement coming from the door I was leaning against caused me to jolt a little on the floor, and I stared worriedly at the door with a torn face. I wanted to help him, but he obviously didn't want me to; he was pushing me away. Maybe David never really liked me, maybe he was just looking for a blow job since he hasn't been able to get one from a girl in ages. And his last resort was me; stupid, pathetic Pierre Charles Bouvier.
Sighing, I grabbed my Role Model t shirt off of the floor and walked out of my room, slamming the door behind me to make sure he heard it. Even though it was my house, I left, instead of kicking David out; he'll leave when he wants to. And when I return; he'll be gone.
Pulling on my t shirt, I walked aimlessly down the hall to the front door, attempting not to hit or bump into any objects as I was blindly on my way. Unfortunately, I slammed my hip into a something and tripped up in something else, so it sent my whole body to the floor with a crash. Groaning, I picked myself off of the hardwood and pulled my shirt fully down to my hips. I reached the porch and slipped on my black Vans skate shoes and grabbed my hoodie and red and white trucker hat.
Walking out into the dead, starless night, I closed the door behind me and inhaled the crisp, spring air. Zipping up my hoodie and pulling my hood over my trucker hat, I quickly trotted down the pathwalk and out into the isolated streets of the little community Laval in Montreal. I didn't mind walking alone in a big, reputation-destroyed city in the middle of the night. Sighing, I walked to the destination I've grown familiar to when I needed time to think.
After a few minutes, I stepped foot into the alleyway a few blocks away from my home and climbed up onto the dirty, closed dumpster. Just above the dumpster was a ladder belonging to the stairs to the apartment balconies. Jumping powerfully to the ladder, I grabbed onto the bottom rail, pulling in difficulty one by one with my shaking hands to the next bar. Soon enough, I reached the floor and pulled myself up on it, staring blankly out into nothing.
Why was I getting so emotional over this? I felt hot tears glaze over my eyes as I asked myself this. It was rare if I ever got emotionally wrecked by a relationship, I think this was the first time ever that I was feeling depressed over somebody I was currently dating. But when I thought about David, I felt my heart flutter; he was the only thing that ever mattered to me, I came to realize.
"Why did I have to fuck over the only relationship that actually meant something for me?!" I hissed to myself in frustration, balling up my hands in absolute sad rage. "Why did I have to force David to have sex with me? If I just kept it in my pants and waited for him to be ready then we wouldn't be in this situation right now!" I said a little louder, feeling kind of ridiculous that I was talking to myself.
"You're a God damn fuck up! What's the use of you!" I yelled, punching the metal floor under me.
"You're not a fuck up, Pierre," A soft voice entered my ears, I looked to the opening of the alleyway to see David leaning casually against one of the brickwalls, scuffing the pavement with his sneaker. I couldn't see his beautiful face, because the streetlight behind him was making the front of his body a silhouette.
"What are you doing here?" I asked bitterly as I felt more tears sting in my eyes, and soon enough they started to spill down my cheeks. Silence encased the alleyway and I just blankly stared at him, wanting him to answer me with something, anything. I felt my muscles go tense and my fists balled up tighter, so tight that my knuckles were turning white.
"I heard every word you said," He sighed, seeming to ignore my question and pushing himself lightly off of the wall, walking towards me. I watched as he strided towards the dumpster, dangling my feet absentmindedly as I did so. "This isn't your fault," He said modestly, looking straight up at me as he stood beneath me next to the dumpster.
"David," I said sternly, both of us knowing the solid fact that he was lying.
"It isn't!-" He cried, but I got him off.
"David!" I said a little more tensely. This shut him up and he gave a defeated sigh.
"Okay, so maybe it was partially your fault, but it's also me! I'm too insecure for my own good!" He exclaimed, jumping up onto the dumpster and leaping up to the ladder. Gripping onto the bars with great struggle and taking much more time to get up to the floor than I ever did.
"What insecurities?" I asked rhetorically as he sat next to me, giving him an odd glare. He stared back at me with that innocent expression; the one that I always gave in to. "Seriously, what the fuck should you be insecure about," I started to ramble, he just continued to stare at me oddly and raised his brown eyebrows up in disbelief.
"Just me being a pansy for not letting you get in my pants," He sighed, swinging his legs back and forth as he stared out into nothing, but nonetheless, he didn't stare at me. "Plus, now I got you thinking that I don't like you?" David said a little angrily, maybe pissed at the fact that I accused him of something that wasn't true. "Pierre, if you must know the truth - I will always love you," He said softly and passionately, turning to me as he spoke and gripping one of his slender hands into my own.
I found myself getting lost in those incredible brown eyes of his, that unique shade of brown. The only brown eyes I think I would ever fall for. "I'm sorry," I suddenly apologized, wiping away the slow flowing tears with my free hand.
"Don't blame yourself, it's both our faults," David said, stroking his thumb on my hand affectionately; I felt my whole body go numb. "I'm willing to fix this if you are," He whispered, leaving a quick yet passionate kiss on my lips. His lips were so perfectly rounded, and the softest lips I have ever felt. I missed him, and he didn't even leave me.
"Of course." I smiled, a large smile started to tug on the ends of my lips.
"Let's just ... take it slow this time?" He suggested, seeming a little timid about his words.
"Slowing things down sounds perfect to me," I sighed contently, pulling him in between my legs and wrapping my arms around his waist loosely, resting my chin on his shoulder.