Verona Brags of Him
Title: Verona Brags of Him
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: PG-13
Category: Fluff? I'm not sure...
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Pierre/Sebastien
Note: I was rereading Romeo & Juliet and this came to me while I was reading the scene of their meeting at the Capulet home. Title taken from a line from that scene, obviously.
DEDICATION: For Ant. Happy Birthday (again, I know).
Summary: [Standalone]
When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
Disclaimer: I do not own the boys of Simple Plan.
-
Verona Brags of Him
Whose party was this again? The hell if you could remember. You quickly lost the thought as you hopped out of the car you'd all come in and gathered your friends as you walked up to the front door. The music was loud and you could easily make out what song was playing, even before you made it into the house. As you and your friends entered the main room you saw many faces, most were faces you were able to recognize seeing at one time or another during your past four years at College Beaubois. As you scanned the room one of the familiar faces came up to you and your friends and handed each of you a red plastic cup with an unidentified liquid in it. You took the cup and nodded a thanks to the face and began to search the room again.
And then your eyes fell upon an unfamiliar pair on a face you couldn't quite recall. The young man in question stood across the main room of the house in the doorway of the kitchen, speaking with a few other nameless faces you'd come to know over the years. Why hadn't you seen this boy before? The fact that you can't ever recall seeing him before and his strikingly clear blue eyes hold your gaze for a moment until one of your friends slaps their hand over your back as he laughs. You blink and take notice of the scene, letting out a small chuckle, though completely unaware of the joke.
Minutes pass and you're more tuned in to the conversation going on about your friends but still you find yourself glancing over toward the kitchen, spotting that boy you don't know. He's moved now, he and his group have taken a few steps away from the kitchen door and are now near the large potted plant next to the stereo and they're laughing. Another one of your friends says something amusing, you're not quite sure what the setup was but nonetheless it amuses you and you chuckle again, taking another sip from your cup.
"Pierre?" Your attention turns to the brunette next to you and you nod your acknowledgement as you swallow your drink. "Dude, what do you keep looking at?"
Figuring it couldn't hurt to tell him, you place a hand on his shoulder and turn his body into the direction he is meant to look. "Chuck," you begin, raising your voice enough to be heard over the music, "that kid over there near the plant with the blue and grey shirt. Who is he?" You gesture your hand over into the general direction of the boy and wait for your friend's answer.
He looks and then shakes his head. "Some kid who lives near me, I think?" He shakes his head and takes a drink. "I forget his name."
You nod and look back to your group of friends, taking another drink from your cup. As the night goes on you continue to roam the party with your friends, talking to the familiar faces scattered about but still managing to spot that one unfamiliar face every now and again. When you spot him you can't keep your sight from lingering just a bit, as if you expect to suddenly remember his name or where you might have once met him. A few times he's turned his head just as you were looking and caught your gazing upon him. Whenever those glassy blue eyes made this action you would falter and blink, looking off into another direction almost immediately, almost ashamed that'd you'd been caught staring.
Now you wander aimlessly by yourself, your friends having disappeared into the crowd. Last you can remember they were standing near the bottom of the staircase when you'd gone off to the bathroom but after you came out you saw the staircase from the end of the hall, your friends nowhere in sight. You blink and run your hand through your hair, for what seems like the first time that night you're not holding some sort of beverage at all.
The lavatory was located at the back hall of the house, away from the blasting stereo and away from the loud party guests. You walked down the hall, in the opposite direction of the staircase and turned to peer into a living room. You seemed to have come upon the quietest room of the house, walls muffling the sounds of the stereo and creating what appears to be the perfect mood for the couples to have escaped to. On the various sofas and chairs were scattered pairs of partygoers spending their own quality time together. Giving a soft chuckle you turn back toward the staircase and find yourself glued in your tracks, looking directly at the boy you've been spotting all night.
He stood at the end of the hall, peering around the corner as if he were talking to someone in the main room, standing just in front of where your friends had been when you left them. You swallow slowly as you stand in your place, not wanting to move. He hasn't noticed you yet, he's still standing with his back to you. Quickly, you lick your lips and force your sight to turn to a painting hanging on the wall across from you; you don't want him to turn and catch you staring. Again.
Vaguely, you can hear his footsteps pad along the carpet as he nears where you stand and you swallow a lump in your throat. You curse yourself silently as your mind imagines it was probably the most visible nervous gulp you've ever taken in your life. You blink and look over at him as casually as you can make it seem-he is, after all, walking in your direction.
As it turns out, his eyes are already set on you as you look over and your stomach jumps a bit in shock and then flips with excitement at the thought that maybe he was admiring you as you had him. He smiles as your eyes meet, a happy sort of relieved smile and you can almost swear you saw his ears turn pink. You return the smile and he lowers his head right away, emitting a soft chuckle. You find his shy reaction nothing short of appealing and you bite the corner of your lip to keep from entirely salivating.
It's at that moment that your usual confident demeanor crawls over your back and envelops itself around you, creating the shield that seems to have been ignoring you for the last minute or so. Your smile curves into that sure-of-yourself smirk that's become almost synonymous with your name over the years and you take a step toward him.
"I've never seen you before."
His head picks up at your words and he raises an eyebrow. "Should you have?" He bites his lip in a thoughtful way and your tongue runs over your bottom lip, all the more intrigued.
"I know most everyone here," you smile as he leans back against the wall, his arms crossed defensively, cutely over his chest as he looks up at you through his eyelashes and you continue; "But I don't know you."
He sighed, faintly rolling his eyes. "Are you sure? You can't know everyone here that well. Maybe you've just forgotten my face?"
You shake your head as you step closer and place your arm on the wall at his side, leaning over him with that smirk on your face. There is no way you've merely forgotten his face. "No," you shake your head, "I don't know everyone. But your face..." You bring your hand up and trace your thumb down his jaw, "Your face, not only would I not forget, I'd want to get to know."
With a slight chuckle, he bites his lip again and looks up at you through his eyelashes. His look a bit nervous this time but also a little expecting, as if daring you of something. "Would you?" His mouth forms into it's own little smirk and you grin, nodding your head slowly.
Without another word, you lean down and place a soft kiss to his lips. Against your mouth you feel his form into a smile as he returns the kiss and you take that as a sign to deepen it. You lift a hand to rest your fingertips on his jaw as his own pick up and settle on your hips, his fingers hooking loosely around your belt loops. He leans back against the wall, still grinning into the kiss and nipping at your lip as the two of you continue the flurry of light, playful kisses.
You smile as he does, sighing softly into the kiss as his hands hold onto your hips, gently squeezing as he relaxes against the wall. Just as you grin and begin to truly enjoy yourself, you feel a hand on your shoulders that certainly isn't his and it pulls you back, tearing your lips from his. You blink and whip your head around quickly, your hands still holding on to the figure before you.
"Pierre," Chuck bursts out laughing in the middle of his thought and shakes his head. "Pierre, we've got to go, come on."
"What?" Your eyes widen as he grabs your arm and begins pulling you back down the hall, toward the main room where most of the partygoers reside. You follow along, your hand holding onto that of the blue-eyed boy whose name still escapes you as he trails after, giggling. You can't help smiling over that look on his face and your grip on his hand tightens as you pull him close to you and the two of you share a kiss as you're pulled through the crowd.
As you move through the swarm, Chuck continues to speak and you can vaguely make out that Patrick has apparently had one-too-many drinks and that your group had better leave before he angers anymore guests. You look away from the object holding most of your attention as Chuck summons Patrick by the back of his collar and drags him toward the door with you. You turn back and kiss your newfound friend several more times before you can feel the cool nighttime air on your back as you near the door.
You look at him apologetically with a dumb smile on your face as you laugh out, "I'm sorry. I have to go." As if he were unable to tell already. "I don't want to leave you."
He laughs and shakes his head, "I know your friend; I have class with him. The drunk one. I can find you at school next Monday."
Smiling, your lean over, kissing him again; quite a task when factored in the kind of force Chuck is trying to pull you away with. Nodding to his plan, you smile and let go of his hand and give way to your friend's pull and you are almost immediately dragged to the middle of the front lawn.
"Hey, wait!" You turn around and rip yourself away from Chuck's grasp, an angry growl escaping his lips as you run back up to the house where he's standing at the door. "I don't think he'll know who I'm asking for if I tell your friend I want to know where I can meet 'that hot kid from the party'." You chuckle and shake your head, kissing his lips again. "Who should I ask for?"
Chuck pulls the back of your collar and you're able to manage one last kiss before you're pulled away again and you look back up to the house and call back up, "My name is Pierre!"
-
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: PG-13
Category: Fluff? I'm not sure...
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Pierre/Sebastien
Note: I was rereading Romeo & Juliet and this came to me while I was reading the scene of their meeting at the Capulet home. Title taken from a line from that scene, obviously.
DEDICATION: For Ant. Happy Birthday (again, I know).
Summary: [Standalone]
When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
Disclaimer: I do not own the boys of Simple Plan.
-
Verona Brags of Him
Whose party was this again? The hell if you could remember. You quickly lost the thought as you hopped out of the car you'd all come in and gathered your friends as you walked up to the front door. The music was loud and you could easily make out what song was playing, even before you made it into the house. As you and your friends entered the main room you saw many faces, most were faces you were able to recognize seeing at one time or another during your past four years at College Beaubois. As you scanned the room one of the familiar faces came up to you and your friends and handed each of you a red plastic cup with an unidentified liquid in it. You took the cup and nodded a thanks to the face and began to search the room again.
And then your eyes fell upon an unfamiliar pair on a face you couldn't quite recall. The young man in question stood across the main room of the house in the doorway of the kitchen, speaking with a few other nameless faces you'd come to know over the years. Why hadn't you seen this boy before? The fact that you can't ever recall seeing him before and his strikingly clear blue eyes hold your gaze for a moment until one of your friends slaps their hand over your back as he laughs. You blink and take notice of the scene, letting out a small chuckle, though completely unaware of the joke.
Minutes pass and you're more tuned in to the conversation going on about your friends but still you find yourself glancing over toward the kitchen, spotting that boy you don't know. He's moved now, he and his group have taken a few steps away from the kitchen door and are now near the large potted plant next to the stereo and they're laughing. Another one of your friends says something amusing, you're not quite sure what the setup was but nonetheless it amuses you and you chuckle again, taking another sip from your cup.
"Pierre?" Your attention turns to the brunette next to you and you nod your acknowledgement as you swallow your drink. "Dude, what do you keep looking at?"
Figuring it couldn't hurt to tell him, you place a hand on his shoulder and turn his body into the direction he is meant to look. "Chuck," you begin, raising your voice enough to be heard over the music, "that kid over there near the plant with the blue and grey shirt. Who is he?" You gesture your hand over into the general direction of the boy and wait for your friend's answer.
He looks and then shakes his head. "Some kid who lives near me, I think?" He shakes his head and takes a drink. "I forget his name."
You nod and look back to your group of friends, taking another drink from your cup. As the night goes on you continue to roam the party with your friends, talking to the familiar faces scattered about but still managing to spot that one unfamiliar face every now and again. When you spot him you can't keep your sight from lingering just a bit, as if you expect to suddenly remember his name or where you might have once met him. A few times he's turned his head just as you were looking and caught your gazing upon him. Whenever those glassy blue eyes made this action you would falter and blink, looking off into another direction almost immediately, almost ashamed that'd you'd been caught staring.
Now you wander aimlessly by yourself, your friends having disappeared into the crowd. Last you can remember they were standing near the bottom of the staircase when you'd gone off to the bathroom but after you came out you saw the staircase from the end of the hall, your friends nowhere in sight. You blink and run your hand through your hair, for what seems like the first time that night you're not holding some sort of beverage at all.
The lavatory was located at the back hall of the house, away from the blasting stereo and away from the loud party guests. You walked down the hall, in the opposite direction of the staircase and turned to peer into a living room. You seemed to have come upon the quietest room of the house, walls muffling the sounds of the stereo and creating what appears to be the perfect mood for the couples to have escaped to. On the various sofas and chairs were scattered pairs of partygoers spending their own quality time together. Giving a soft chuckle you turn back toward the staircase and find yourself glued in your tracks, looking directly at the boy you've been spotting all night.
He stood at the end of the hall, peering around the corner as if he were talking to someone in the main room, standing just in front of where your friends had been when you left them. You swallow slowly as you stand in your place, not wanting to move. He hasn't noticed you yet, he's still standing with his back to you. Quickly, you lick your lips and force your sight to turn to a painting hanging on the wall across from you; you don't want him to turn and catch you staring. Again.
Vaguely, you can hear his footsteps pad along the carpet as he nears where you stand and you swallow a lump in your throat. You curse yourself silently as your mind imagines it was probably the most visible nervous gulp you've ever taken in your life. You blink and look over at him as casually as you can make it seem-he is, after all, walking in your direction.
As it turns out, his eyes are already set on you as you look over and your stomach jumps a bit in shock and then flips with excitement at the thought that maybe he was admiring you as you had him. He smiles as your eyes meet, a happy sort of relieved smile and you can almost swear you saw his ears turn pink. You return the smile and he lowers his head right away, emitting a soft chuckle. You find his shy reaction nothing short of appealing and you bite the corner of your lip to keep from entirely salivating.
It's at that moment that your usual confident demeanor crawls over your back and envelops itself around you, creating the shield that seems to have been ignoring you for the last minute or so. Your smile curves into that sure-of-yourself smirk that's become almost synonymous with your name over the years and you take a step toward him.
"I've never seen you before."
His head picks up at your words and he raises an eyebrow. "Should you have?" He bites his lip in a thoughtful way and your tongue runs over your bottom lip, all the more intrigued.
"I know most everyone here," you smile as he leans back against the wall, his arms crossed defensively, cutely over his chest as he looks up at you through his eyelashes and you continue; "But I don't know you."
He sighed, faintly rolling his eyes. "Are you sure? You can't know everyone here that well. Maybe you've just forgotten my face?"
You shake your head as you step closer and place your arm on the wall at his side, leaning over him with that smirk on your face. There is no way you've merely forgotten his face. "No," you shake your head, "I don't know everyone. But your face..." You bring your hand up and trace your thumb down his jaw, "Your face, not only would I not forget, I'd want to get to know."
With a slight chuckle, he bites his lip again and looks up at you through his eyelashes. His look a bit nervous this time but also a little expecting, as if daring you of something. "Would you?" His mouth forms into it's own little smirk and you grin, nodding your head slowly.
Without another word, you lean down and place a soft kiss to his lips. Against your mouth you feel his form into a smile as he returns the kiss and you take that as a sign to deepen it. You lift a hand to rest your fingertips on his jaw as his own pick up and settle on your hips, his fingers hooking loosely around your belt loops. He leans back against the wall, still grinning into the kiss and nipping at your lip as the two of you continue the flurry of light, playful kisses.
You smile as he does, sighing softly into the kiss as his hands hold onto your hips, gently squeezing as he relaxes against the wall. Just as you grin and begin to truly enjoy yourself, you feel a hand on your shoulders that certainly isn't his and it pulls you back, tearing your lips from his. You blink and whip your head around quickly, your hands still holding on to the figure before you.
"Pierre," Chuck bursts out laughing in the middle of his thought and shakes his head. "Pierre, we've got to go, come on."
"What?" Your eyes widen as he grabs your arm and begins pulling you back down the hall, toward the main room where most of the partygoers reside. You follow along, your hand holding onto that of the blue-eyed boy whose name still escapes you as he trails after, giggling. You can't help smiling over that look on his face and your grip on his hand tightens as you pull him close to you and the two of you share a kiss as you're pulled through the crowd.
As you move through the swarm, Chuck continues to speak and you can vaguely make out that Patrick has apparently had one-too-many drinks and that your group had better leave before he angers anymore guests. You look away from the object holding most of your attention as Chuck summons Patrick by the back of his collar and drags him toward the door with you. You turn back and kiss your newfound friend several more times before you can feel the cool nighttime air on your back as you near the door.
You look at him apologetically with a dumb smile on your face as you laugh out, "I'm sorry. I have to go." As if he were unable to tell already. "I don't want to leave you."
He laughs and shakes his head, "I know your friend; I have class with him. The drunk one. I can find you at school next Monday."
Smiling, your lean over, kissing him again; quite a task when factored in the kind of force Chuck is trying to pull you away with. Nodding to his plan, you smile and let go of his hand and give way to your friend's pull and you are almost immediately dragged to the middle of the front lawn.
"Hey, wait!" You turn around and rip yourself away from Chuck's grasp, an angry growl escaping his lips as you run back up to the house where he's standing at the door. "I don't think he'll know who I'm asking for if I tell your friend I want to know where I can meet 'that hot kid from the party'." You chuckle and shake your head, kissing his lips again. "Who should I ask for?"
Chuck pulls the back of your collar and you're able to manage one last kiss before you're pulled away again and you look back up to the house and call back up, "My name is Pierre!"
-