Ten Minutes
Title: "Ten Minutes"
Rating: PG-13, at the most.
Pairing: Pierre/David
Summary: Pierre has been missing for a year and the beach is the only thing David finds comfort in. (Bad summary, I know.)
Disclaimer: Google defines a disclaimer as: "A voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something," sounds about right to me.
A/N: This image of David entered my mind whilst listening to "I Wish You Were Here" by Incubus, and I just had to get it out, that's why it's so short. Anyway, if you haven't heard the song, give it a listen, it really is beautiful.
David sucked in a sharp breath, the bitter tide washing over his bare feet before slowly flowing back out to sea. He wanted to go further out, but the cuffs of his jeans were too tight, only allowing him to pull them half way up his calves. The rest of his body was fully clothed, the jacket Pierre had bought him for his last birthday wrapped tightly round his body, zipped all the way to the top. David saw the warm looking piece of clothing through a shop window in New York the year before. He fell in love with it instantly, but couldn’t afford it at the time. He recalled the kiss he'd given Pierre after he’d unwrapped it, the softest, sweetest, most romantic kiss he'd ever experienced.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes, I love you.” The last words Pierre had spoken to him. For David, those ten minutes had lasted a year. Quarter past ten, the exact time Pierre had left, David remembered checking the clock as the door closed. Pierre told David that he’d return with strawberries, so he could feed them to David in bed after their walk on the beach, the beach David loved going to so much.
That’s where David was tonight, waiting and hoping, with all his being, that Pierre would be there. David knew he wouldn‘t, but every aspect of that beach reminded him of his love, so he couldn't not come. There was no wind whatsoever, nothing to blow his thick, ebony hair around his face. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, the fresh smell of the sea filling his nose, reminding him of when Pierre got out of the shower, smelling clean and dewy, like the grass after an April shower. A towel wrapped around his waist and a smirk on his face, he knew David would stare, and he knew just how perfect he was.
David grinned at how self-assured Pierre was and opened his eyes to look up at the deep blue sky. Rain beginning to fall quickly. Wet, shiny dots adorning his face. It felt incredibly similar to when Pierre shook his wet hair, splashing David with refreshing droplets, just to annoy him.
He dug his feet into the sand, the small wet grains forming clumps between his toes. It always amazed him, the way something so soft and delicate could support him, just as Pierre did. Pierre had always acted as if nothing could break through that thick exterior of his, but it could. David was the only one who saw Pierre cry, the only one who'd seen those infamous coffee coloured irises glaze over, the only one who'd witnessed the reddening of Pierre's cheeks as he sobbed. David felt his own eyes well up at the thought.
He tipped his head downwards, casting his gaze out to sea, the almost black water shimmering in what little light there was. It reminded him of Pierre’s eyes, when his pupils would dilate with lust, looking at David with so much want and longing. How David wished to see those eyes again, to feel Pierre’s kiss once more. Now, his lips felt dry and chapped, courtesy of the thick, salty sea air which skimmed over his body every night.
He noticed that the tide had calmed slightly, the water swirling gently around his ankles. It was freezing cold, but he didn’t want to move, the icy feeling was relaxing. He pulled his hands from his pockets and glanced at his watch, it read twenty-seven minutes past ten. He looked back up at the stars, the clouds moving across the sky to reveal the creamy white moon, shining down on the ocean, giving it a ghostly glow. A cool wind began to blow, gently pushing small wisps of hair from David’s face, just as Pierre would before he’d shower his neck with gentle kisses.
“You’re late,” he whispered, a content smile gracing his features.
Rating: PG-13, at the most.
Pairing: Pierre/David
Summary: Pierre has been missing for a year and the beach is the only thing David finds comfort in. (Bad summary, I know.)
Disclaimer: Google defines a disclaimer as: "A voluntary repudiation of a person's legal claim to something," sounds about right to me.
A/N: This image of David entered my mind whilst listening to "I Wish You Were Here" by Incubus, and I just had to get it out, that's why it's so short. Anyway, if you haven't heard the song, give it a listen, it really is beautiful.
David sucked in a sharp breath, the bitter tide washing over his bare feet before slowly flowing back out to sea. He wanted to go further out, but the cuffs of his jeans were too tight, only allowing him to pull them half way up his calves. The rest of his body was fully clothed, the jacket Pierre had bought him for his last birthday wrapped tightly round his body, zipped all the way to the top. David saw the warm looking piece of clothing through a shop window in New York the year before. He fell in love with it instantly, but couldn’t afford it at the time. He recalled the kiss he'd given Pierre after he’d unwrapped it, the softest, sweetest, most romantic kiss he'd ever experienced.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes, I love you.” The last words Pierre had spoken to him. For David, those ten minutes had lasted a year. Quarter past ten, the exact time Pierre had left, David remembered checking the clock as the door closed. Pierre told David that he’d return with strawberries, so he could feed them to David in bed after their walk on the beach, the beach David loved going to so much.
That’s where David was tonight, waiting and hoping, with all his being, that Pierre would be there. David knew he wouldn‘t, but every aspect of that beach reminded him of his love, so he couldn't not come. There was no wind whatsoever, nothing to blow his thick, ebony hair around his face. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, the fresh smell of the sea filling his nose, reminding him of when Pierre got out of the shower, smelling clean and dewy, like the grass after an April shower. A towel wrapped around his waist and a smirk on his face, he knew David would stare, and he knew just how perfect he was.
David grinned at how self-assured Pierre was and opened his eyes to look up at the deep blue sky. Rain beginning to fall quickly. Wet, shiny dots adorning his face. It felt incredibly similar to when Pierre shook his wet hair, splashing David with refreshing droplets, just to annoy him.
He dug his feet into the sand, the small wet grains forming clumps between his toes. It always amazed him, the way something so soft and delicate could support him, just as Pierre did. Pierre had always acted as if nothing could break through that thick exterior of his, but it could. David was the only one who saw Pierre cry, the only one who'd seen those infamous coffee coloured irises glaze over, the only one who'd witnessed the reddening of Pierre's cheeks as he sobbed. David felt his own eyes well up at the thought.
He tipped his head downwards, casting his gaze out to sea, the almost black water shimmering in what little light there was. It reminded him of Pierre’s eyes, when his pupils would dilate with lust, looking at David with so much want and longing. How David wished to see those eyes again, to feel Pierre’s kiss once more. Now, his lips felt dry and chapped, courtesy of the thick, salty sea air which skimmed over his body every night.
He noticed that the tide had calmed slightly, the water swirling gently around his ankles. It was freezing cold, but he didn’t want to move, the icy feeling was relaxing. He pulled his hands from his pockets and glanced at his watch, it read twenty-seven minutes past ten. He looked back up at the stars, the clouds moving across the sky to reveal the creamy white moon, shining down on the ocean, giving it a ghostly glow. A cool wind began to blow, gently pushing small wisps of hair from David’s face, just as Pierre would before he’d shower his neck with gentle kisses.
“You’re late,” he whispered, a content smile gracing his features.