He wants to know your name. Fuck. Pierre Bouvier wants to know your fucking name.
Title: Cigarettes (oneshot)
Author: icanwaitforever
Pairing: Davierre as I like to call it.
Rating: NC-17.
POV: Second, through David.
Summary: David Desrosiers manages to book the same hotel as Pierre Bouvier for a night without even trying.
Warnings: Sex and cursing.
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own either of them. Sigh.
Dedication: For Matt.
Author Notes: This is old Pierre and David. Old. I mean, really, really old. It's supposed to take place during the time when Pierre was in Reset so probably 1998/1999ish? That makes David 18/19 and Pierre 19/20 if you do the math. Okay. That's basically it haha.
You don't really know how it happened exactly, but you would be lying if you said you weren't caught off-guard when Pierre Bouvier...Pierre Fucking Bouvier...walked out of the front doors of the hotel you were staying at. The smoke you inhaled into your lungs as you took a drag from your cigarette caught in your throat as you forgot to breathe and you ended up choking like a fucking moron, unable to hide from the singer's gaze which was now focused soley on you.
"Are you okay man?" He asked, a hint of amusement lacing his voice and...God, you kind of just wanted to die right then and there. This kind of embarrassment probably hurt more than death.
After opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a few seconds, you manage out a "y-yeah, I'm alright." Stuttering and all. Classic.
He doesn't seem phased by how bad you're starstruck and it kind of hits you that he must be so used to this shit by now with how much attention he gets. After all, he's the lead singer of Reset, a band that had enough hits in the country you lived in that you could count them using the fingers on both of your hands. You feel dumb, holding a hand to your chest as you give another cough to fully clear your lungs and swallow down to get the dry feeling to disappear from your throat.
"Can I bum a cigarette?"
The last thing you expected was for Pierre to carry on the conversation. Okay, so maybe that didn't really count as carrying on the convo, but it sure as hell was a lot more than "are you okay". You nod wordlessly, like a dumbass, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from your back pocket, opening it and pointed the small box in the other's direction who took the spot against the wall right next to you, leaning against it. You don't remember hearing anything about him smoking at all, no rumors, no pictures leaked, so all of this is a little confusing to you...but you don't dare ask as he takes one from the box and reaches into one of the pockets his jeans to pull out a lighter. After a few flicks, the cigarette lights and Pierre takes a long drag, tilting his head up to the smoke into the cool air.
"I should really quit."
You realize you're staring when he starts to talk again, so you quickly turn away, looking straight ahead at the empty street infront of you. Feeling a slight burn at your fingertips, you look down and realize that, oh yeah, you still have your unfinished cigarette in your hand...but suddenly, smoking didn't seem so appealing. Especially now since you're concentrating way too hard on actually breathing correctly that smoking would probably kill you on the spot. You'd rather wait years for that to happen.
"You know, I'm not gonna bite. You don't have to be so quiet..." Pierre seemed to struggle for a moment, eyeing you up and down and pursing his lips together as if trying to remember something. "...what's your name?"
"David," you basically choke out the word, cheeks immediately growing hot at how eager to are you answer his question. He wants to know your name. Fuck. Pierre Bouvier wants to know your fucking name. It's surprising that you're not jumping up and down for joy at this point. He smirks at you.
"I've seen you around, I remember your face," he noted outloud, taking another drag and tilting his head away so he didn't blow the smoke in your face. Pointing at you with the same hand that held the cigarette, he continued. "You've been to some of the shows."
"Yeah..." you managed to breathe out, taking another gulp of air to calm your nerves down. Dropping the cigarette from your hand, you let it fall to the pavement and put it out with the toe of your shoe. "Yeah, I'm a big fan." You try to say that as nonchalauntly as possible, eyes glued to the ground as you speak because...wow, you don't have the guts to even look him in the eye. You were met with silence and that peaked your curiosity to how the other managed to take the statement, so you looked up to see his face. The smirk was still there and your cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink.
"Well thank you, David," Pierre's voice slowed down as he pronounced your name, almost sensually and you felt a shiver creep up your spine. Taking one more drag from the cigarette, Pierre put it out against the wall and let it drop to the ground, taking a step closer to close the gap of space between the two of you. "I appreciate it." There was a small pause, the singer looking you up and down one more time and you had the sudden urge to just...bolt it. Run down the street and away from him, far away from him. Nerves were piling up in your stomach and...whoa. Why the fuck were you nervous? He wasn't going to do anything. He was straight.
"It's hot when you have gay fans."
It was like time had stopped, your heart halting in your chest as the words left Pierre's mouth. What did he just say?!
"Excuse me?" You want to sound offended. You do. You really do. You want to try to prove to him that you're not that transparent, that he shouldn't assume that you were like that, that you were gay right off the bat. You weren't even gay anyway! ...at least not fully, anyway. But how the fuck dare he assume shit like that?! He didn't even know you.
"You heard me. You don't need to get so flustered, David. Like I said, it's hot."
Before your brain could form anything coherent in an attempt to say back, Pierre fully closed the gap between the two of you and...holy shit. Lips pressed firmly against lips and you stood there in wide-eyed shock. Pierre was kissing you. Pierre Fucking Bouvier was kissing you. His hand gripped the back of your neck to push your head forward, make you kiss him back and...oh yeah, you weren't exactly returning the favor and, what were you, stupid?! Closing your eyes, you move your lips against the ones pressing into your own and suddenly you're being pushed into the ally between the hotel and...some place that didn't even matter to you right now that it was next to.
Pierre pushes his tongue past your lips, not even bothering to ask politely to deepen the kiss with a few licks at your bottom lip like you'd expect, but that was o-fucking-kay because you wanted this pretty badly anyway. Fuck being polite. Your body slams back against the brick wall of the hotel and you whimper in a bit of pain, the sound getting swallowed up into the other's mouth. He sucks hard on your tongue, causing growls to emit from the back of your throat and you break the kiss to attack his bottom lip with your teeth, nipping and bitting and sucking at it till Pierre pulled away. He licked at his kiss swollen lips and shot you another one of his smirks before leaning in and whispering into your ear.
"Can I blow you?"
If you weren't already hard by that point, that probably would've done the trick and you're fucking speechless because, fuck yeah! Yeah he can blow you! Jesus fucking Christ, did he even need to ask that question?! So you just moan something out that you can only hope sounds remotely like a yes, biting so hard into your bottom lip that you're afraid you might draw blood as you wait for his next move.
Pierre sinks to his knees not even a second later and you pry your eyes open just to look down at the sight. You're pretty sure this is never going to happen again because, well, shit, you're not that lucky...so you kind of want to remember this. For...future things. How could you be sure that you weren't dreaming this? You'd pinch yourself if you weren't in the situation you were in now; backed up against a wall outside with Pierre Bouvier on his fucking knees infront of you, because that would just look a little too weird. He probably thought you were strange enough already.
It didn't take long for him to undo your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down before tugging the pair of pants low off of your hips. He reached up, grazing his hand over the bulge in your boxers and you let out a moan so carelessly because, fuck. who fucking cares who could be listening to you right now? You sure didn't, and that's all that fucking mattered. Pierre gave your cock a squeeze through the material of your boxers and you begin to pant in anticipation, almost forgetting how to breathe. His lips weren't even around you yet and you were forgetting how to fucking breathe. Great. You'll be a goner before all of this was over.
He pulled your boxers down to the same level as your jeans, revealing your cock. Watching with wide eyes, you didn't dare look away as he licked his lips and leaned forward to press wet, open mouthed kisses up your length. His tongue flicked out at random spots, making sure to come out and tease once he got to the tip and he let out a groan when he got a taste of the precum starting to form. You couldn't help but let out a series of whimpers and squeaks of pleasure as the teases, rocking your hips up in the direction of the singer's mouth once his lips got to the head of your cock. Pierre just laughed at your impatience and gripped the base before slipping his lips around the head, taking you completely into his mouth.
You fucking saw stars.
It was damn near impossible for you to keep your eyes open any longer, so you didn't, instead throwing your head back in pleasure as you felt the tip of your cock hit the back of Pierre's throat. The back of your head smacked into the wall and, fuck that really hurt, but you couldn't focus on the pain for very long since pleasure overtook your body anyway. The singer knew how to use his mouth...to put it simply. You hissed out as Pierre's tongue dragged up the vein on the underside of your cock as he bobbed his head up and back down, tongue moving to tweak and lap at the head every single time he pulled his lips back. It was embarrassing (then again you managed to make yourself the king of embarrassment this entire time and Pierre still asked if he could blow you), but you were close to cumming really fast this time around and...holy shit, if he kept on using his tongue like he was doing right then, you didn't stand a chance.
"Pierre...I, ungh, I'm going to come..."
He hummed in approval and your whole body tensed, flushing hot from head to toe and you mewled out in absolute pleasure. Hand reaching out, you thread your fingers through his dark hair and held on tightly, bucking your hips to fuck his mouth just a bit and he didn't seem to care since his own hands gripped your hips tightly to push them forward. The last thing you remember him doing was swallowing around you and you cum so hard into his mouth and down his throat with a scream of his name, nails digging into his scalp as he made sure to take it all in.
Your mind is a whirlwind, a dizzy mess as Pierre licks you clean, finally removing your cock from his mouth. Body weak and leaning against the brick wall behind you, you pant for air to fill your burning lungs and pray for your heartbeat to slow down quickly. You can barely think, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that Pierre just fucking blew you in the ally right next to the hotel you both managed to book for that night. He helps you by tucking you back into your boxers, doing up your jeans after pulling them back up your hips and then he's back on his feet. That's when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, the singer still smirking just like he was minutes ago when you were eyeing him smoking the cigarette he asked for from you.
Body buzzing from the after-effects of the orgasm, all you could do was manage a small smile back and he let out an amused laugh.
"Thanks for being such a big fan, David."
A kiss was pressed against your lips, the lingering taste of yourself mixed with the nicotine of the cigarette from before hitting your senses as you tried to kiss back...but then he was gone, walking out of the ally and back into the hotel and...damn. You really need to go to a hell of a lot more Reset shows now.
Author: icanwaitforever
Pairing: Davierre as I like to call it.
Rating: NC-17.
POV: Second, through David.
Summary: David Desrosiers manages to book the same hotel as Pierre Bouvier for a night without even trying.
Warnings: Sex and cursing.
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own either of them. Sigh.
Dedication: For Matt.
Author Notes: This is old Pierre and David. Old. I mean, really, really old. It's supposed to take place during the time when Pierre was in Reset so probably 1998/1999ish? That makes David 18/19 and Pierre 19/20 if you do the math. Okay. That's basically it haha.
You don't really know how it happened exactly, but you would be lying if you said you weren't caught off-guard when Pierre Bouvier...Pierre Fucking Bouvier...walked out of the front doors of the hotel you were staying at. The smoke you inhaled into your lungs as you took a drag from your cigarette caught in your throat as you forgot to breathe and you ended up choking like a fucking moron, unable to hide from the singer's gaze which was now focused soley on you.
"Are you okay man?" He asked, a hint of amusement lacing his voice and...God, you kind of just wanted to die right then and there. This kind of embarrassment probably hurt more than death.
After opening and closing your mouth like a fish for a few seconds, you manage out a "y-yeah, I'm alright." Stuttering and all. Classic.
He doesn't seem phased by how bad you're starstruck and it kind of hits you that he must be so used to this shit by now with how much attention he gets. After all, he's the lead singer of Reset, a band that had enough hits in the country you lived in that you could count them using the fingers on both of your hands. You feel dumb, holding a hand to your chest as you give another cough to fully clear your lungs and swallow down to get the dry feeling to disappear from your throat.
"Can I bum a cigarette?"
The last thing you expected was for Pierre to carry on the conversation. Okay, so maybe that didn't really count as carrying on the convo, but it sure as hell was a lot more than "are you okay". You nod wordlessly, like a dumbass, pulling out the pack of cigarettes from your back pocket, opening it and pointed the small box in the other's direction who took the spot against the wall right next to you, leaning against it. You don't remember hearing anything about him smoking at all, no rumors, no pictures leaked, so all of this is a little confusing to you...but you don't dare ask as he takes one from the box and reaches into one of the pockets his jeans to pull out a lighter. After a few flicks, the cigarette lights and Pierre takes a long drag, tilting his head up to the smoke into the cool air.
"I should really quit."
You realize you're staring when he starts to talk again, so you quickly turn away, looking straight ahead at the empty street infront of you. Feeling a slight burn at your fingertips, you look down and realize that, oh yeah, you still have your unfinished cigarette in your hand...but suddenly, smoking didn't seem so appealing. Especially now since you're concentrating way too hard on actually breathing correctly that smoking would probably kill you on the spot. You'd rather wait years for that to happen.
"You know, I'm not gonna bite. You don't have to be so quiet..." Pierre seemed to struggle for a moment, eyeing you up and down and pursing his lips together as if trying to remember something. "...what's your name?"
"David," you basically choke out the word, cheeks immediately growing hot at how eager to are you answer his question. He wants to know your name. Fuck. Pierre Bouvier wants to know your fucking name. It's surprising that you're not jumping up and down for joy at this point. He smirks at you.
"I've seen you around, I remember your face," he noted outloud, taking another drag and tilting his head away so he didn't blow the smoke in your face. Pointing at you with the same hand that held the cigarette, he continued. "You've been to some of the shows."
"Yeah..." you managed to breathe out, taking another gulp of air to calm your nerves down. Dropping the cigarette from your hand, you let it fall to the pavement and put it out with the toe of your shoe. "Yeah, I'm a big fan." You try to say that as nonchalauntly as possible, eyes glued to the ground as you speak because...wow, you don't have the guts to even look him in the eye. You were met with silence and that peaked your curiosity to how the other managed to take the statement, so you looked up to see his face. The smirk was still there and your cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink.
"Well thank you, David," Pierre's voice slowed down as he pronounced your name, almost sensually and you felt a shiver creep up your spine. Taking one more drag from the cigarette, Pierre put it out against the wall and let it drop to the ground, taking a step closer to close the gap of space between the two of you. "I appreciate it." There was a small pause, the singer looking you up and down one more time and you had the sudden urge to just...bolt it. Run down the street and away from him, far away from him. Nerves were piling up in your stomach and...whoa. Why the fuck were you nervous? He wasn't going to do anything. He was straight.
"It's hot when you have gay fans."
It was like time had stopped, your heart halting in your chest as the words left Pierre's mouth. What did he just say?!
"Excuse me?" You want to sound offended. You do. You really do. You want to try to prove to him that you're not that transparent, that he shouldn't assume that you were like that, that you were gay right off the bat. You weren't even gay anyway! ...at least not fully, anyway. But how the fuck dare he assume shit like that?! He didn't even know you.
"You heard me. You don't need to get so flustered, David. Like I said, it's hot."
Before your brain could form anything coherent in an attempt to say back, Pierre fully closed the gap between the two of you and...holy shit. Lips pressed firmly against lips and you stood there in wide-eyed shock. Pierre was kissing you. Pierre Fucking Bouvier was kissing you. His hand gripped the back of your neck to push your head forward, make you kiss him back and...oh yeah, you weren't exactly returning the favor and, what were you, stupid?! Closing your eyes, you move your lips against the ones pressing into your own and suddenly you're being pushed into the ally between the hotel and...some place that didn't even matter to you right now that it was next to.
Pierre pushes his tongue past your lips, not even bothering to ask politely to deepen the kiss with a few licks at your bottom lip like you'd expect, but that was o-fucking-kay because you wanted this pretty badly anyway. Fuck being polite. Your body slams back against the brick wall of the hotel and you whimper in a bit of pain, the sound getting swallowed up into the other's mouth. He sucks hard on your tongue, causing growls to emit from the back of your throat and you break the kiss to attack his bottom lip with your teeth, nipping and bitting and sucking at it till Pierre pulled away. He licked at his kiss swollen lips and shot you another one of his smirks before leaning in and whispering into your ear.
"Can I blow you?"
If you weren't already hard by that point, that probably would've done the trick and you're fucking speechless because, fuck yeah! Yeah he can blow you! Jesus fucking Christ, did he even need to ask that question?! So you just moan something out that you can only hope sounds remotely like a yes, biting so hard into your bottom lip that you're afraid you might draw blood as you wait for his next move.
Pierre sinks to his knees not even a second later and you pry your eyes open just to look down at the sight. You're pretty sure this is never going to happen again because, well, shit, you're not that lucky...so you kind of want to remember this. For...future things. How could you be sure that you weren't dreaming this? You'd pinch yourself if you weren't in the situation you were in now; backed up against a wall outside with Pierre Bouvier on his fucking knees infront of you, because that would just look a little too weird. He probably thought you were strange enough already.
It didn't take long for him to undo your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down before tugging the pair of pants low off of your hips. He reached up, grazing his hand over the bulge in your boxers and you let out a moan so carelessly because, fuck. who fucking cares who could be listening to you right now? You sure didn't, and that's all that fucking mattered. Pierre gave your cock a squeeze through the material of your boxers and you begin to pant in anticipation, almost forgetting how to breathe. His lips weren't even around you yet and you were forgetting how to fucking breathe. Great. You'll be a goner before all of this was over.
He pulled your boxers down to the same level as your jeans, revealing your cock. Watching with wide eyes, you didn't dare look away as he licked his lips and leaned forward to press wet, open mouthed kisses up your length. His tongue flicked out at random spots, making sure to come out and tease once he got to the tip and he let out a groan when he got a taste of the precum starting to form. You couldn't help but let out a series of whimpers and squeaks of pleasure as the teases, rocking your hips up in the direction of the singer's mouth once his lips got to the head of your cock. Pierre just laughed at your impatience and gripped the base before slipping his lips around the head, taking you completely into his mouth.
You fucking saw stars.
It was damn near impossible for you to keep your eyes open any longer, so you didn't, instead throwing your head back in pleasure as you felt the tip of your cock hit the back of Pierre's throat. The back of your head smacked into the wall and, fuck that really hurt, but you couldn't focus on the pain for very long since pleasure overtook your body anyway. The singer knew how to use his mouth...to put it simply. You hissed out as Pierre's tongue dragged up the vein on the underside of your cock as he bobbed his head up and back down, tongue moving to tweak and lap at the head every single time he pulled his lips back. It was embarrassing (then again you managed to make yourself the king of embarrassment this entire time and Pierre still asked if he could blow you), but you were close to cumming really fast this time around and...holy shit, if he kept on using his tongue like he was doing right then, you didn't stand a chance.
"Pierre...I, ungh, I'm going to come..."
He hummed in approval and your whole body tensed, flushing hot from head to toe and you mewled out in absolute pleasure. Hand reaching out, you thread your fingers through his dark hair and held on tightly, bucking your hips to fuck his mouth just a bit and he didn't seem to care since his own hands gripped your hips tightly to push them forward. The last thing you remember him doing was swallowing around you and you cum so hard into his mouth and down his throat with a scream of his name, nails digging into his scalp as he made sure to take it all in.
Your mind is a whirlwind, a dizzy mess as Pierre licks you clean, finally removing your cock from his mouth. Body weak and leaning against the brick wall behind you, you pant for air to fill your burning lungs and pray for your heartbeat to slow down quickly. You can barely think, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that Pierre just fucking blew you in the ally right next to the hotel you both managed to book for that night. He helps you by tucking you back into your boxers, doing up your jeans after pulling them back up your hips and then he's back on his feet. That's when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, the singer still smirking just like he was minutes ago when you were eyeing him smoking the cigarette he asked for from you.
Body buzzing from the after-effects of the orgasm, all you could do was manage a small smile back and he let out an amused laugh.
"Thanks for being such a big fan, David."
A kiss was pressed against your lips, the lingering taste of yourself mixed with the nicotine of the cigarette from before hitting your senses as you tried to kiss back...but then he was gone, walking out of the ally and back into the hotel and...damn. You really need to go to a hell of a lot more Reset shows now.