Entry tags:

pierre/david

Dans Mon Café
Working Title: Dans Mon Café
Rating: PG
Pairing: Pierre Bouvier/David Desrosiers (Simple Plan)
Summary: David's mundane job at his aunt's café becomes a little more exciting when a local college student stops in late night.
Disclaimer: I don't own them and this is purely a figment of my overactive imagination.
Author's Note: I wrote this a while ago, but I'm still unsure of it.

Chapter One

Sighing softly to himself as he flicks strands of his ink black hair out of his eyes, David Desrosiers continues bending down, picking up chairs and turning them over before setting them atop the tables of his aunt’s café. Once he finishes, he weaves his way through tables back to the counter and tugs the dish rag strung through his belt loop out, beginning to sing Green Day softly to himself while wiping the faux marble down, the lyrics to Basket Case in stark contrast to the smooth jazz flowing softly the speakers in the ceiling. Jumping slightly as someone bangs on the glass of the door to the café, David turns to it, glaring at the man on the other side of the door, “We’re closed.”

“Can I please come in? I need a shock of caffeine to keep me awake,” the man outside speaks loudly so David can hear him through the glass.

David shakes his head and passes his wash rag to his other hand as he returns his focus to the counter, resuming cleaning the faux marble until the man outside begins banging on the door again. Sighing once more, David turns back to the door and rests one hand on the counter, leaning against it as he sticks a hip out to the side. “Look, what part of ‘we’re closed’ don’t you understand? It’s after ten o’clock, we’re not open anymore.”

The man outside shifts his messenger bag on his shoulder and looks helplessly at David, “All I need is a cappuccino, man. I’m a student at McGill, I have a research paper due tomorrow, and I haven’t even started it yet.”

Sighing softly, David drops the towel on the counter and pushes himself away from it, pulling his keys from his pocket and finding the door key as he slowly walks to the door. He unlocks the door and slowly opens it, letting the man, who showers him with thanks, into the café. David returns to the counter and picks up his dish rag, slipping behind the counter and looking at the intruder, “You’re only getting a cappuccino. Don’t expect me to bake you anything, make you any finger sandwiches, or pull out any packets of cookies.”

“Just a cappuccino,” the man nods in agreement and takes a seat at one of the stools in front of the counter, pulling his messenger bag on the counter until David throws a look at it, at which point the man moves it to the floor. “Do you work here often? You’re always in here cleaning up when I walk by.”

David retrieves a mug from the dishwasher and pulls a half gallon of milk from the fridge before walking back to the counter, looking at the man sitting in front of it, “I work from eight in the morning until ten at night. Of course I work here often.”

The man nods and busies himself with a paper napkin as David begins making his cappuccino, scooping some espresso out to put into the machine before turning it on. Glancing up from his napkin every so often, the man watches David move languidly behind the counter, his motions fluid as he pulls his dish rag out to wipe away a few drops of milk that had made their way onto the plate of the steamer before he puts the milk on it to heat up, “I’m Pierre, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” David replies and turns to resume wiping the counter down, not looking at Pierre as he moves to the section of faux marble closest to the windows.

“Likewise,” Pierre cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of the nametag on David’s apron, leaning further over the counter until the man behind it turns his way. “David.”

Glancing at Pierre out of the corner of his eye, David shakes his head slightly and finishes wiping down the counter with his towel just as the espresso maker finishes. He walks back to the machine and takes the shot the espresso maker had brewed, pouring it into the mug he had set out, “Single or double shot?”

“Double, if you don’t mind,” Pierre replies and David nods. Setting the machine up to make another shot of espresso, David then disappears through the swinging door leading to the back of the café, coming out moments later, sans his apron and towel, just as the espresso machine wraps up. He pours the second shot into the mug and then picks up the metal pitcher full of steamed milk, straining it with spoon as he adds it to the cup. Giving it a swift stir for good measure, David picks the mug up and turns to set it on the counter in front of Pierre to which the man smiles softly, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” David returns to the machines briefly to clean them before he perches himself on a stool behind the counter and he watches Pierre while he drinks. “So, you’re a student at McGill, eh?”

Pierre nods as he nurses his cappuccino, setting it down on the counter briefly, “Yeah, I am. Business major because that’s what my dad wanted.”

“That’s what your dad wanted?” David cocks an eyebrow as he continues watching Pierre, a slight look of condescension passing over his features quickly before fading away.

Nodding again, Pierre picks up his mug and takes a long swig of it, “Yeah. I kind of had to or I’d be up to my nose in debt until I’m ninety. He’s paying.”

“Then change your major and don’t tell him,” David slips off of the stool and walks around the counter to the tables, collecting the salt shakers to refill. “Something fun, like funeral service direction or sports management or art.”

“He’s already ticked off about other things, I’m not going to test him, sorry,” Pierre laughs softly and looks down at his cappuccino as he smiles, grabbing a packet of sugar and adding it to his cup.

David shrugs casually as he steps back behind the counter, lining up the salt shakers on the countertop ad unscrewing the lids. He reaches behind him briefly to retrieve the container of Morton Salt and he pops the top off, refilling the few salt shakers in front of him without spilling a grain onto the counter, “Hey, it was worth a try, wasn’t it?”

“Everything’s worth a try,” Pierre watches the man behind the counter as David recaps the salt shakers, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of him mouth as he concentrates. Smiling to himself, Pierre ducks his head back down and works on finishing his drink as David looks up at him.

“Yeah, everything is,” David nods briefly in agreement before he collects the salt shakers in his hands and walks back around the counter to return them to the tables. While David’s gone from behind the counter, Pierre finishes his cappuccino and he watches as David slips back to his place behind the counter, perching himself on his stool once again.

Setting his empty mug down on the fake marble of the countertop, Pierre pulls out his wallet, “How much is that?”

“Don’t worry about it, the register’s closed out already and I don’t feel like counting all the money up again,” David stands and picks up Pierre’s discarded mug, opening the dishwasher behind him, pulling the top rack out, and placing the mug upside down on one of the plastic spokes.

“Are you sure?” Pierre keeps his wallet out, holding it between his two hands as he looks at David, who turns to Pierre and locks eyes with the man sitting at the counter.

David steps to Pierre and takes his wallet, shutting it before placing it on the counter and sliding it across the fake marble to Pierre, “Yes, I’m sure. Now put your wallet away, I don’t want to see it again.”

“Yes, sir,” Pierre smiles lightly and mock salutes David before picking up his wallet, standing and pushing it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Laughing quietly to himself, David shakes his head and does some last minute rearranging of things behind the counter before plucking a black hoodie from a hook on the wall. He slips the sweatshirt on as he walks around the counter, zipping it as he walks to the door with Pierre close on his heels. Flipping the light switches beside the door off, David pulls his key ring from his hoodie and jiggles it briefly before he picks out the key to the café.

“You didn’t really have a research paper to write tonight, did you?” David inquires softly as he pushes the door open and holds it for Pierre, letting the taller man step past him out onto the concrete of the sidewalk.

Pierre shakes his head, confessing quietly, “I just said that to get you to let me in. I worked up enough balls tonight to actually come and knock, I see you cleaning up in there almost every night.”

Pausing momentarily, David looks at Pierre before stepping onto the sidewalk and he shuts the door behind him, prodding his key around the doorknob until it finds it way into the lock, “What?”

“I walk by on my way home from my internship,” Pierre points up the block, his cheeks turning red from a mixture of both slight embarrassment and the brisk night air. “And I always see you alone inside. Cleaning up the machines or wiping down the counter or putting the chairs up. And you always manage to look so lonely, like you just needed someone to talk to while you wrapped up another mundane night of working at the café. You just look so lonely in there.”

“That’s not so far from the truth,” David shrugs a shoulder slightly and he slips his key ring back into the pocket of his hoodie, darting his tongue out briefly to drag the tip of it over the silver hoop through his bottom lip. “Not many people are interested in coffee at ten o’clock at night, unless, of course, they have a research paper to write and they haven’t even started it yet.”

A light smile plays on Pierre’s lips and he nods, “Yeah, those feisty research paper writers are in desperate need of caffeine in any form at ten in the evening.”

“Well, if you’d like, you can stop by tomorrow night and I’ll fix you up with a caramel macchiato to boot,” David pulls his piercing between his teeth briefly before letting his bottom lip fall back into place. “I’ll even change the CD in the player from that horrid soft jazz to something much better, just for you.”

“That’s dreadfully nice of you,” Pierre smiles once again and David mirrors his smile, reaching out and lightly patting the back of Pierre’s hand. The taller man continues smiling and he shifts his messenger bag so he can clasp the strap in both of his hands, “It’s not everyday someone offers to keep their café open for a stranger, make him a macchiato, and change the music from wretched smooth jazz to something ultimately better all in the same night.”

“You’re not a stranger anymore,” David winks at Pierre before pushing the sleeve of his hoodie back so he can glimpse at his watch, the softest of sighs leaving the man’s lips. “I have to get going because it’s way, way, way past my bedtime and I have to be right back here bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Pierre nods understandingly, his eyes widening slightly as David stands on his toes and leans into him, pressing his lips tenderly to Pierre’s cheek. A smile tugs on the corners of Pierre’s lips as David stands back, the smaller man’s cheeks turning a light shade of pink, “I’ll see you tomorrow night at ten, right? You’re not going to shaft me or anything, are you?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” David replies with a smile and pushes his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Good night, Pierre. Sleep well and sweet dreams after all that caffeine wears off.”

Pierre grins and nods, chuckling softly before replying, “The same to you, David. Without the whole caffeine thing, of course, because you didn’t have any coffee or anything and I think I’m going to shut up now because I’m rambling.”

“Good night, Pierre,” David reiterates as he laughs and shakes his head, turning in the direction of his way home. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Pierre replies and he remains in front of the café for a few moments while he watches David slink away into the night, finally turning in the opposite direction and beginning his walk back to his apartment, silently pumping his fist in the air in celebration.




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