(no subject)
Title: Fan Boy(s)
Author: thefiretonight and revengetherapy
Pairing: Pierre Bouvier/David Desrosiers (of Simple Plan)/Trever Keith (of Face to Face)
Rating: NC-17
POV: 2nd person from Pie's
Summary: The sequel to Fan Boy. David takes Pierre to watch Face to Face's set on the Warped Tour.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Author Notes: Written with my wifey bear.
Warnings: Graphic sex.
You've managed to avoid this very situation successfully for the first two weeks of the Warped tour but then David insisted that you had come with him to watch one of your favorite band's set. If only he knew the history behind you and Face to Face and why you've been avoiding running into a certain lead singer...
Suddenly your boyfriend's voice squeaks out and breaks through your thoughts. "Oh, God, Pie, isn't he so fucking hot...?"
You shift uneasily in your place, and tried to get back to what you were thinking before (I wonder, who would win in a wrestling match, Pete or Chuck?) but David, darling David has gone and buried that idea in your mind. And God, he is, he's so fucking hot. Maybe you should get a sleeve tattoo sometime, maybe it'll look at good; but you don't flex and roar like Trever.
Your arm automatically goes around David's slender waist as he leans against you, not bother to hide the slight bulge in his Dickies shorts. "Shit, babe... Just looking at him, those arms alone get me all bothered..."
You have to chuckle at his lack of shyness and tact as you reply, "Really now? I couldn't have guessed..."
He smirks at you, patent D. P. Desrosiers-style, and you flatten your palm against the zipper of his shorts, watch him squirm just the slightest- you know how he does this, just enough to get him off but not so much that you know you're the one doing it- he'd have it down to an art form if you didn't know better.
He turns into your side a little, blocking an unwanted views from the rest of the small audience of musicians made up on the side stage. After all, you wouldn't want to be stealing any of the show from the band. Small purrs are whimpered so softly against your ear as you stroke him off that you almost question if they were real at all until you see the blissful sight that is David cumming; his head tilted back, lips slightly parted just enough for the very tip of his tongue to be seen.
He punches you in the arm when he's back from his high, grumbling under his breath about how that was his last clean pair of boxers, damnit, Pierre. You wipe your hand on his Dickies, just to be an ass, and he nearly headbutts you- and would have, only the set just finished and Trever and Scott (sharing glances you recognize as yours and David's) slip past you, Pete and Chad behind them, and they nearly get past before David pipes up out of nowhere, "oh, my god."
Scott just looks the pair of you up and down before giggling at Trever, kissing his cheek before running towards Pete and jumping on the tiny man's back for a piggy back ride off into Warped's sunset. The older man just shakes his head and laughs, looking over to the two of you before his smile turns into a smirk. "Hey, kid. Long time, no see."
Shit. Of course, he'd have to remember you. You, out of every other stupid fan boy.
David looks up at you, mouths a qu'est-ce que c'est, Pierre? at you and you hope your mouth is shut because otherwise, you're probably doing a great impression of a goldfish right now. Trever raises a brow at you, you force out a hi before you choke. Not that the situation could really get any more awkward for you, but whatever. Sainte merde.
Oh, wait, it could and just did as you watch Trever's eyes, very blatantly checking out David, from head to toe as he let out a low whistle. "I wouldn't have pegged you to go for the pretty boys, kid, but damn. You've got a nice one here. Real nice."
David's cheeks flush red as he presents his hand to the singer, "I'm David."
"So, you're the..."
"I play bass," he says proudly, taking longer than he should have to let go of Trever's hand. You sigh under your breath; it's going to be a long day.
"Yeah? You should talk to Scott sometime."
"Really?" David bites his lip, you can see him practically quivering with excitement. "That would be so cool."
"He's probably busy right now, but... when do you go on?"
"Later," you blurt out, because he's hitting on your boyfriend he's hitting on your boyfriend he's hitting on y-
"We're not doing anything else for a few hours, right, Pierre?"
David's eyes are dark and Trever's smirk is even wider.
"Want to go get some funnel cake and I'll show you boys our bus...? No one's gonna bother us there..." Trever Keith just invited you to his fucking bus... for funnel cake?
Before that even sets in your brain, David quickly takes your hand in his, practically dragging you as he follows the singer. "Oh, that sounds nice. Pierre loves funnel cake, don't you, Pierre...?"
"Sure, who doesn't like funnel cake, eh?" You stare at David, he stares back; you don't even know why you're trying to fight him, you both know it won't work. He walks in the middle, making light conversation, oh, yeah, Warped's been great this year, nobody's gotten food poisoning yet, you know they're making a movie or something this year? and you're hanging off their every word because this is going somewhere, you know it, but this time you're not just some teenager that got lucky. And oh, god, if David knew...
Speaking of David, he actually fucking got a funnel cake and is currently licking his index finger clean of the powered sugar as Trever speaks. Something about how they're going into the studio soon after Warped's done but you're not really paying any attention because your boyfriend is pretty much blowing his own finger and damn, when did you get hard without noticing it?
Trever looks back at you before smiling as he unlocks the door to one of the many buses parked behind the stage. You're halfway up the short flight of steps and David has cream on his lip ring and it's taking every ounce of willpower you have not to jump him right there and then halfway through a conversation about record label politics, you haven't been this rabid in a long time and that's saying something, but it's Trever, it has to be Trever doing this to you.
"You've got a little something, David..." Your eyes wander over to Trever as he steps towards your boyfriend cautiously. "May I...?"
David briefly looks over at you before nodding gently. And, Merde, your knees almost buckle as Trever leans down, brushing his thumb over his lip ring before capturing David's lips and you think fuck, that's hot and why the hell didn't I kiss him so long ago? Damn Chuck and Sebas...
Trever's hands fit like yours around David's jaw, broad and gentle, somehow more articulate with his gestures, and you'd be jealous if it were anyone else, angry, even; how dare he touch David like that doesn't really come into it. Why isn't he doing that to me?
David's hand finds and curls around yours as you watch him kiss Trever back, moaning as his lip ring disappears into the older man's mouth, causing David to squeeze gently to get you to move closer to him. You lean into the petite raven haired boy, your lips briefly brushing against his cheek before you get daring and press your lips to the edge of their kiss, your tongue nudging the path in.
And you feel kind of stupid because you're cute, at best, but they're fucking hot and you're scared of being a third wheel in this operation, even though it's all down to you- but then Trever's hand is prickly-hot on the back of your neck and David's leading you both to the couch, kicking off newspapers and clean laundry.
You find yourself backed to the edge of the couch by Trever, his lips ghosting along your collar as your boyfriend makes his way behind the older man, suckling on his earlobe. The moans escaping Trever's lips sound like smaller versions of the roars he just made on stage an hour ago.
You try to move seductively; in your head, you're draping yourself over one end of the couch, biting on your lip and gazing up with jet black eyes, shirt riding up to your navel as you shift your position- but in real life, your legs go from under you and the heat burning you up, a thin film of sweat appearing on your brow, is just about hiding your blush. You swallow hard, Trever murmurs a laugh like thunder at something David just said that you didn't hear over blood pounding in your skin.
The cool air of the unit in the back lounge hits your bare chest as Trever peels your shirt off you, pausing as David does the same to his own and Trever's t-shirts. You look up just in time to see David's chest presses into Trever's back before he buries his head back in the crook of the older man's neck, gasps now pouring out of his mouth. You have to wonder if Trever's ever felt a lip ring before.
David's feral, eyes golden in the light, and loses his Dickies and already soiled boxers before anyone can back out- and he should look ridiculous, stark naked save a pair of black tube socks and pink-and-black check Vans, streaks of pink eyeliner smudged from the heat- but it's enough to make you drop your pants on autopilot.
Trever's laugh cuts through the small space as both of your and David's hands meet at his belt buckle. David lets out a small giggle before letting you undo the belt as he makes short work off the button and zipper of the singer's jeans. One naked Trever Keith and you're both drooling a little before you lean over the punk god and capture David's lips in the hungriest kiss you've shared in a long time.
You're running out of breath and he knows it, and you know he means well by pulling back so you can breathe but all you can think is want, now and nobody in the room is touching your god-damn cock, but Trever's hands you're sure are burning palm-prints into your thighs, fingers splayed to hold all of it and thumbs creeping down the insides, want, now, need, now.
"Stroke him, Trever... Get him ready for you..." David's voice breaks through and you thank your fucking lucky stars for your boyfriend. Trever wraps his fist loosely around your cock, that smirk back on his face as you show no shame in cooing out his name.
David's off the couch, digging through your pants for your wallet, knowing that you've got at least two or three condoms in there. His voice is gentle but still full of need as he asks Trever where the lube is. The man points at the lower cabinet with his free hand, his other speeding up around your dick.
A low growl causes your eyes to shoot open up again and oh, lord, it's absolutely beautiful. David is somehow managing to concentrate enough to stroke both himself and Trever at the same time, the sight leaving a gasp in your throat that you just cannot make past your lips. His eyes met yours, lips curling into the smile that you know is only meant for you. He suddenly lets go of his and Trever's erections to break open each condom packet before nudging Trever's right leg to give him access.
"Back off for just a second so I can put this on you, Trev..."
You're still so damn surprised at how together David is when you're just a withered mess on the couch. He's always managing to make you proud. He leans down once more when he's finished his work, kissing you with more tenderness than lust.
"Be sure to spread your legs wide, baby." You nod, knowing it's best to follow his advice. David takes the liberty of helping you to hook your legs onto Trever's broad shoulders.
You have no idea why this is happening but Merde, you have Trever fucking Keith inside of you and it's everything you imagined. His thrusts were rough but not too much to take, he certainly fucked like he was on stage and you were lucky to just be in his audience. It takes you a few moments to realize that he suddenly is pounding even rougher, faster, and leaving you feeling like he's weighing now than he actually does.
Then you open your eyes back and realize just why. David's strong bass player hands are at either side of your head as he grinds himself into Trever, who in turn hits you harder and deeper than before. You have no idea how but you manage to get your legs around both men even though you can't hook your feet together behind David's back. You can at least let him know you know he's there that way. Your voice would never make it out at this point of absolute no return as your belly feels like it's on fire.
"Shit, Pierre!! Trever!"
David cums first, one hard long thrust that slams Trever's hips so hard into yours that you're pretty much engulfed by the couch and the two men above you. Trever and you almost follow immediately after, your cry of your boyfriend's name mixes in with his deep growl into your chest.
It takes a few minutes before any of the three of you feels like you need to make an effort to separate your mass of sweaty, panting bodies. David moves first, sliding off Trever's back before immediately curling into you the very moment Trever releases you from underneath him. You nuzzle him out of habit, still trying to catch your breathe. "Je t'aime, David."
A giggle escapes from his lips, "You, too, Pie." He stretches out against you like a cat and purrs up at Trever. "I wonder if you treat all your fan boys this well."
Author: thefiretonight and revengetherapy
Pairing: Pierre Bouvier/David Desrosiers (of Simple Plan)/Trever Keith (of Face to Face)
Rating: NC-17
POV: 2nd person from Pie's
Summary: The sequel to Fan Boy. David takes Pierre to watch Face to Face's set on the Warped Tour.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Author Notes: Written with my wifey bear.
Warnings: Graphic sex.
You've managed to avoid this very situation successfully for the first two weeks of the Warped tour but then David insisted that you had come with him to watch one of your favorite band's set. If only he knew the history behind you and Face to Face and why you've been avoiding running into a certain lead singer...
Suddenly your boyfriend's voice squeaks out and breaks through your thoughts. "Oh, God, Pie, isn't he so fucking hot...?"
You shift uneasily in your place, and tried to get back to what you were thinking before (I wonder, who would win in a wrestling match, Pete or Chuck?) but David, darling David has gone and buried that idea in your mind. And God, he is, he's so fucking hot. Maybe you should get a sleeve tattoo sometime, maybe it'll look at good; but you don't flex and roar like Trever.
Your arm automatically goes around David's slender waist as he leans against you, not bother to hide the slight bulge in his Dickies shorts. "Shit, babe... Just looking at him, those arms alone get me all bothered..."
You have to chuckle at his lack of shyness and tact as you reply, "Really now? I couldn't have guessed..."
He smirks at you, patent D. P. Desrosiers-style, and you flatten your palm against the zipper of his shorts, watch him squirm just the slightest- you know how he does this, just enough to get him off but not so much that you know you're the one doing it- he'd have it down to an art form if you didn't know better.
He turns into your side a little, blocking an unwanted views from the rest of the small audience of musicians made up on the side stage. After all, you wouldn't want to be stealing any of the show from the band. Small purrs are whimpered so softly against your ear as you stroke him off that you almost question if they were real at all until you see the blissful sight that is David cumming; his head tilted back, lips slightly parted just enough for the very tip of his tongue to be seen.
He punches you in the arm when he's back from his high, grumbling under his breath about how that was his last clean pair of boxers, damnit, Pierre. You wipe your hand on his Dickies, just to be an ass, and he nearly headbutts you- and would have, only the set just finished and Trever and Scott (sharing glances you recognize as yours and David's) slip past you, Pete and Chad behind them, and they nearly get past before David pipes up out of nowhere, "oh, my god."
Scott just looks the pair of you up and down before giggling at Trever, kissing his cheek before running towards Pete and jumping on the tiny man's back for a piggy back ride off into Warped's sunset. The older man just shakes his head and laughs, looking over to the two of you before his smile turns into a smirk. "Hey, kid. Long time, no see."
Shit. Of course, he'd have to remember you. You, out of every other stupid fan boy.
David looks up at you, mouths a qu'est-ce que c'est, Pierre? at you and you hope your mouth is shut because otherwise, you're probably doing a great impression of a goldfish right now. Trever raises a brow at you, you force out a hi before you choke. Not that the situation could really get any more awkward for you, but whatever. Sainte merde.
Oh, wait, it could and just did as you watch Trever's eyes, very blatantly checking out David, from head to toe as he let out a low whistle. "I wouldn't have pegged you to go for the pretty boys, kid, but damn. You've got a nice one here. Real nice."
David's cheeks flush red as he presents his hand to the singer, "I'm David."
"So, you're the..."
"I play bass," he says proudly, taking longer than he should have to let go of Trever's hand. You sigh under your breath; it's going to be a long day.
"Yeah? You should talk to Scott sometime."
"Really?" David bites his lip, you can see him practically quivering with excitement. "That would be so cool."
"He's probably busy right now, but... when do you go on?"
"Later," you blurt out, because he's hitting on your boyfriend he's hitting on your boyfriend he's hitting on y-
"We're not doing anything else for a few hours, right, Pierre?"
David's eyes are dark and Trever's smirk is even wider.
"Want to go get some funnel cake and I'll show you boys our bus...? No one's gonna bother us there..." Trever Keith just invited you to his fucking bus... for funnel cake?
Before that even sets in your brain, David quickly takes your hand in his, practically dragging you as he follows the singer. "Oh, that sounds nice. Pierre loves funnel cake, don't you, Pierre...?"
"Sure, who doesn't like funnel cake, eh?" You stare at David, he stares back; you don't even know why you're trying to fight him, you both know it won't work. He walks in the middle, making light conversation, oh, yeah, Warped's been great this year, nobody's gotten food poisoning yet, you know they're making a movie or something this year? and you're hanging off their every word because this is going somewhere, you know it, but this time you're not just some teenager that got lucky. And oh, god, if David knew...
Speaking of David, he actually fucking got a funnel cake and is currently licking his index finger clean of the powered sugar as Trever speaks. Something about how they're going into the studio soon after Warped's done but you're not really paying any attention because your boyfriend is pretty much blowing his own finger and damn, when did you get hard without noticing it?
Trever looks back at you before smiling as he unlocks the door to one of the many buses parked behind the stage. You're halfway up the short flight of steps and David has cream on his lip ring and it's taking every ounce of willpower you have not to jump him right there and then halfway through a conversation about record label politics, you haven't been this rabid in a long time and that's saying something, but it's Trever, it has to be Trever doing this to you.
"You've got a little something, David..." Your eyes wander over to Trever as he steps towards your boyfriend cautiously. "May I...?"
David briefly looks over at you before nodding gently. And, Merde, your knees almost buckle as Trever leans down, brushing his thumb over his lip ring before capturing David's lips and you think fuck, that's hot and why the hell didn't I kiss him so long ago? Damn Chuck and Sebas...
Trever's hands fit like yours around David's jaw, broad and gentle, somehow more articulate with his gestures, and you'd be jealous if it were anyone else, angry, even; how dare he touch David like that doesn't really come into it. Why isn't he doing that to me?
David's hand finds and curls around yours as you watch him kiss Trever back, moaning as his lip ring disappears into the older man's mouth, causing David to squeeze gently to get you to move closer to him. You lean into the petite raven haired boy, your lips briefly brushing against his cheek before you get daring and press your lips to the edge of their kiss, your tongue nudging the path in.
And you feel kind of stupid because you're cute, at best, but they're fucking hot and you're scared of being a third wheel in this operation, even though it's all down to you- but then Trever's hand is prickly-hot on the back of your neck and David's leading you both to the couch, kicking off newspapers and clean laundry.
You find yourself backed to the edge of the couch by Trever, his lips ghosting along your collar as your boyfriend makes his way behind the older man, suckling on his earlobe. The moans escaping Trever's lips sound like smaller versions of the roars he just made on stage an hour ago.
You try to move seductively; in your head, you're draping yourself over one end of the couch, biting on your lip and gazing up with jet black eyes, shirt riding up to your navel as you shift your position- but in real life, your legs go from under you and the heat burning you up, a thin film of sweat appearing on your brow, is just about hiding your blush. You swallow hard, Trever murmurs a laugh like thunder at something David just said that you didn't hear over blood pounding in your skin.
The cool air of the unit in the back lounge hits your bare chest as Trever peels your shirt off you, pausing as David does the same to his own and Trever's t-shirts. You look up just in time to see David's chest presses into Trever's back before he buries his head back in the crook of the older man's neck, gasps now pouring out of his mouth. You have to wonder if Trever's ever felt a lip ring before.
David's feral, eyes golden in the light, and loses his Dickies and already soiled boxers before anyone can back out- and he should look ridiculous, stark naked save a pair of black tube socks and pink-and-black check Vans, streaks of pink eyeliner smudged from the heat- but it's enough to make you drop your pants on autopilot.
Trever's laugh cuts through the small space as both of your and David's hands meet at his belt buckle. David lets out a small giggle before letting you undo the belt as he makes short work off the button and zipper of the singer's jeans. One naked Trever Keith and you're both drooling a little before you lean over the punk god and capture David's lips in the hungriest kiss you've shared in a long time.
You're running out of breath and he knows it, and you know he means well by pulling back so you can breathe but all you can think is want, now and nobody in the room is touching your god-damn cock, but Trever's hands you're sure are burning palm-prints into your thighs, fingers splayed to hold all of it and thumbs creeping down the insides, want, now, need, now.
"Stroke him, Trever... Get him ready for you..." David's voice breaks through and you thank your fucking lucky stars for your boyfriend. Trever wraps his fist loosely around your cock, that smirk back on his face as you show no shame in cooing out his name.
David's off the couch, digging through your pants for your wallet, knowing that you've got at least two or three condoms in there. His voice is gentle but still full of need as he asks Trever where the lube is. The man points at the lower cabinet with his free hand, his other speeding up around your dick.
A low growl causes your eyes to shoot open up again and oh, lord, it's absolutely beautiful. David is somehow managing to concentrate enough to stroke both himself and Trever at the same time, the sight leaving a gasp in your throat that you just cannot make past your lips. His eyes met yours, lips curling into the smile that you know is only meant for you. He suddenly lets go of his and Trever's erections to break open each condom packet before nudging Trever's right leg to give him access.
"Back off for just a second so I can put this on you, Trev..."
You're still so damn surprised at how together David is when you're just a withered mess on the couch. He's always managing to make you proud. He leans down once more when he's finished his work, kissing you with more tenderness than lust.
"Be sure to spread your legs wide, baby." You nod, knowing it's best to follow his advice. David takes the liberty of helping you to hook your legs onto Trever's broad shoulders.
You have no idea why this is happening but Merde, you have Trever fucking Keith inside of you and it's everything you imagined. His thrusts were rough but not too much to take, he certainly fucked like he was on stage and you were lucky to just be in his audience. It takes you a few moments to realize that he suddenly is pounding even rougher, faster, and leaving you feeling like he's weighing now than he actually does.
Then you open your eyes back and realize just why. David's strong bass player hands are at either side of your head as he grinds himself into Trever, who in turn hits you harder and deeper than before. You have no idea how but you manage to get your legs around both men even though you can't hook your feet together behind David's back. You can at least let him know you know he's there that way. Your voice would never make it out at this point of absolute no return as your belly feels like it's on fire.
"Shit, Pierre!! Trever!"
David cums first, one hard long thrust that slams Trever's hips so hard into yours that you're pretty much engulfed by the couch and the two men above you. Trever and you almost follow immediately after, your cry of your boyfriend's name mixes in with his deep growl into your chest.
It takes a few minutes before any of the three of you feels like you need to make an effort to separate your mass of sweaty, panting bodies. David moves first, sliding off Trever's back before immediately curling into you the very moment Trever releases you from underneath him. You nuzzle him out of habit, still trying to catch your breathe. "Je t'aime, David."
A giggle escapes from his lips, "You, too, Pie." He stretches out against you like a cat and purrs up at Trever. "I wonder if you treat all your fan boys this well."