Entry tags:

pierre/david

Dans Mon Café
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 began this a while ago, but just recently had a huge revelation as to where it's going. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter One / Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Sitting on a bench outside of McGill’s University Centre, Pierre fumbles nervously with his cell phone, checking the time every other minute as he waits for David. One o’clock rolls by, then ten past the hour, then one twenty and as half past one approaches, Pierre stands and sighs to himself as he tucks his phone into a pocket of his messenger bag. He starts the walk up Rue McTavish towards the student parking lot he’d left his car in, turning back to look over his shoulder as he hears someone behind him yell, “Wait! Hold on! Pierre!”

When he spots David running towards him, darting around students and faculty walking from building to building, Pierre stops and laughs softly, shaking his head and tapping his wrist to show David fake dissatisfaction.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” David chokes out as he gasps for breath after halting in front of the other man, bending over slightly with his hands on his knees as he recuperates from exerting himself to catch up with Pierre. “I have never been down here before and I go totally lost and this batty old woman I asked for directions had no idea what the hell I was talking about.”

“I was beginning to think you stood me up,” Pierre smiles and he rubs David’s shoulder for a brief moment before he drops his hand to the strap of his bag.

David shakes his head as he stands up and he pushes his hair back away from his face, letting it fall back into place, “Never. I’m just a complete fool with knowing where I’m going.”

“I’m sure you’re fine. Just never been down here before, like you said,” Pierre flashes the other man a reassuring smile and when David takes the hand offered to him, they start walking in the direction of Pierre’s car. “So, you didn’t have any friends that went here for school?”

Shaking his head once more as he walks beside Pierre, David looks around at McGill’s buildings rising around them as he replies, “None that came to McGill. My crowd wasn’t really the college type. More music oriented.”

Pierre nods and watches David, “So they’re in bands and stuff?”

“The ones that aren’t so good are,” David laughs softly. “The one that was really, really good studied at the Conservatoire de Musique de Montréal. But everyone else was just kind of duds. Talented, but not enough to go anywhere.”

“And you? Do you play anything?” Pierre raises an eyebrow, continuing to watch the man beside him as he guides David into the student parking lot and to his car.

David shakes his head and when they reach Pierre’s vehicle, he steps to the passenger side door, “I wouldn’t know a chord if it whacked me in the face. I just sat back, watched and listened.”

“Like a groupie of sorts,” Pierre jokes and David laughs as he climbs into the passenger seat after Pierre unlocks the car.

“But without all the stuff that comes with being a groupie, for the most part,” David straps his seatbelt on and gets comfortable as Pierre pulls out of his parking spot. “Where are we headed to?”

Pierre turns out of the lot and onto McTavish, starting to navigate the streets of Montréal, “I have a feeling you’d like to go anywhere but that café.”

Smiling broadly, David relaxes back in his seat, closing his eyes for a few moments, “Mm, I find you know me pretty well already.”

“You don’t seem too incredibly complicated,” Pierre steals a glance at David as he slows to a stop at a traffic light and he smiles lightly. “Yet.”

“Yet?” David laughs, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at Pierre.

“Hey, I’ve only known you for a little over a month. That’s hardly enough time to gauge someone’s personality. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet. Could have killed a man or two, for all I know,” Pierre winks at David.

David laughs again at Pierre’s comment and he shifts in the passenger seat slightly so he can watch Pierre as the other man drives, “No murders on my record, but I’m the champ at kicking ass and taking names. You better watch your back.”

“Then I better watch out, eh? One can never cover his own ass too much,” Pierre smirks, turning down a few streets to put them in the middle of Old Montréal. He drives idly for a few minutes on Rue Saint-Hubert before he poses a question to the man in the seat beside him, “So, where are we headed to?”

Pursing his lips for a moment while he thinks of what they can do, David fiddles with the buttons on the door, putting the window up and down a few times before he looks back to Pierre, “Why don’t we go to my place? I’ve got beer and we can watch a movie or something.”

Pierre nods and checks traffic before he makes an illegal U-turn, driving in the direction of David’s apartment, “You sure?”

“Positive,” David affirms. “I mean, I think I’ve known you long enough to determine if you’re a serial killer or not and I’m pretty sure you fall into the not category, though you never know. Those serial killers can be pretty unimposing.”

“Yeah, we can be pretty unimposing, I would say,” Pierre comments offhandedly before he widens his eyes and covers his mouth with a hand momentarily. “Shit, did I say that out loud?”

David laughs and punches Pierre playfully in the bicep, shaking his head as he smiles, “Oh, just shut up and drive.”

Pierre fakes hurt and rubs his upper arm, pouting at David for a moment before he turning back to the road and continuing the drive towards the other man’s flat. After a few minutes, they reach the apartment and Pierre circles the block a few times before finally finding a place to park, easing his car into the tight spot around the corner from David’s building before he climbs from the driver’s seat, walking around and opening the passenger door for David.

“Such a gentleman,” David gives Pierre’s cheek a soft, chaste kiss after he gets out of Pierre’s vehicle, taking Pierre’s hand and walking with him around the corner to the door of the staircase up to his apartment. Finding his keys in his pocket, David unlocks the outer door and pulls it open, stepping inside and motioning for Pierre to follow him, “Come on up.”

As he follows David up the stairs, Pierre examines the concert posters lining the walls of the staircase, nodding in approval as he stops behind David while the other man puts his key in the lock, “Not bad taste in music.”

“Thanks,” David looks back at Pierre and smiles lightly, finally pushing the door open and holding it for Pierre. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Glancing around the living room as he steps into the flat, Pierre takes in the sparse, bachelor-esque décor until he rests his eyes on a trio of guitars propped up in the corner of the room. He looks over his shoulder at David as the other man puts the bolt on the door, his brow furrowed, “I thought you didn’t play any instruments.”

David turns away from the door and shakes his head, “I don’t.”

“Then what are…” Pierre nods to the guitars in the corner. “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

“No. No! No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” David shakes his head once more, this time a bit more fervently. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I live here all by myself. I guess I can say they’re technically mine, but they’re not mine mine.”

Still confused, Pierre leaves his eyebrows tangled as David steps around him and approaches the instruments, “So whose…”

“My ex’s,” David stops in front of the first of the three guitars and he gingerly runs his fingers over the headstock. “He passed away and his parents thought he’d like me to have them.”

Pierre watches the other man’s hand grace the neck of the guitar and he speaks softly, “David, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

Turning back around to face Pierre, David smiles wearily and shakes his head, “Don’t be. I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason. Jeff and I had our good times. Hell, our amazing times. And I wish we could have had a few more, but if he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be working in my aunt’s café, I wouldn’t have let you in, I wouldn’t have kissed you, and we wouldn’t be where we are right now. I like where we are right now. It feels good. It feels right. And I love Jeff, I always will, but my heart’s pretty big and there’s always room for someone else. ”

“I’ll be damned if that wasn’t one of the most mature things I’ve ever heard come out of a twenty-one-year-old’s mouth,” Pierre steps over to the sofa and sits down, continuing to watch David as he lingers by the guitars. “How long has he been gone?”

“A little over a year,” David touches the guitar closest to him one last time before he goes to join Pierre on the couch. “He was riding his Ducati home after dropping me off and a guy in a pickup ran a red light and boom. He flew about twenty feet up in the air, according to the driver of the truck, and the coroner said he was dead as soon as he hit the pavement.”

Pierre nods and reaches over, rubbing David’s knee consolingly, “I’m so sorry, David. I really am. No one should have to deal with a loss like that.”

“It’s alright,” David looks down at Pierre’s hand on his knee before he looks up at the man beside him. “I’m pretty good about it now. Most of the time.”

“Ah, so there’s your skeleton in the closet,” Pierre leans over and presses his lips ever-so-softly to David’s temple.

Nodding a bit, David smiles meekly, “That’s my skeleton. And I’m certain you have one or two of your own.”

“That would be for me to know and for you to find out,” Pierre mirrors David’s light smile and he moves his hand from David’s leg so he can gingerly wrap it around the other man’s shoulders. “In due time, you’ll know.”

David leans against Pierre’s side and settles into Pierre’s arm, “And why in due time? Why not now?”

“Because I said so,” Pierre replies and gives David a matter-of-fact look.

“And what gives you authority over me?” David says cheekily, pulling back from Pierre’s one-armed embrace so he can look at the other man with a raised eyebrow.

“You do,” Pierre closes the gap between them and presses his lips to David’s, the soft peck lapsing deeper and deeper until their tongues intertwine.

David shifts on the couch so he can slide one arm around Pierre’s neck as they kiss, his lips moving against Pierre’s for a few moments longer before he pulls back and whispers breathlessly, “Yeah, you’re right. I do.”




Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!