Here We Go Again
Title: Here We Go Again
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: R
Category: AU, Comedy, Drama
Warning: Language, Slash
Pairing: Pierre/Chuck
Summary:
oh baby can't you see there ain't no place I'd rather be
Disclaimer: I don't own them. And if I knew them personally, I probably wouldn't write this.
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Here We Go Again Chapter Ten
Pierre sat at the side of the lake and watched as a small group of boys timed one another's speed at swimming along the ropes. Jordan was sitting beside him on the Lifeguard bench, and Pierre was very happy that it was him and not Chuck. So far, it had been three days since Chuck began his silent treatment, and they had been three very miserable days. The skies were even filled with heavy grey clouds that looked like they might burst at any minute; those clouds matched his mood perfectly.
"It's getting pretty bad," Jordan was saying from somewhere off to Pierre's left, deeply immersed in a story that Pierre was only partially listening to. "Yesterday's lunch period was brutal. Thomas dropped a fork just because Marcus was leaning across the table to grab a Rubik's Cube from Gabriel. He's fucking losing it." Jordan observed his friend's mild nod while Pierre continued to stare out across the lake. "Kind of like someone else I know," he said and nudged Pierre's shoulder.
"Mm, what?" Pierre blinked and sharply turned his head to look at Jordan.
"You're cracking up, man," Jordan shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "Why don't you talk to him?"
Heaving a sigh, Pierre looked down at his hands. "I can't. I tried yesterday at the pool before everyone jumped in, and he acted as if I wasn't even talking to him. And it was his turn in rotation to sit up in the chair, but he got Carrie-Ann to go up instead."
Jordan shook his head silently and looked away, back out at the campers on the lake. He was brought back when Pierre spoke up again. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Jordan said, but didn't take his eyes off the lake. He watched a few girls playing a game at the edge of the dock. "What is it?"
"What were the campers saying about me and Angie?" Pierre's question threw Jordan for a loop. What was he to say?
Jordan coughed and shook his head. "Come on, you shouldn't be worrying about that crap." He didn't like seeing Pierre so down, and this discussion wouldn't help his friend's mood, he knew.
"No," Pierre shook his head and pursed his lips. Jordan thought he looked angry with himself. "Tell me. What did it look like?"
With a great sigh, Jordan looked down at his feet. Pierre saw this action and shook his own head, preparing to hear the worst. "Well, our campers weren't really so stupid," Jordan began, and Pierre knew he was referring to the whole of the Sixteens groups. "But then again, they all know Chuck."
"But someone was saying something," Pierre pressed.
"The younger years," Jordan admitted weakly. "The younger years, they would see you guys working together. The kids Marcus would work with, he'd say that the girls would, like, giggle when they saw you guys working together."
There was a pause, in which Jordan felt a giant weight settling on his shoulders. He felt very uncomfortable admitting all of this to Pierre. It was no one's fault, really, that the younger years were naïve enough to assume these sorts of things; it was just a shame that their innocent musings had to take this kind of a toll. "Did it really look like that?" Pierre asked quietly.
"Well, sometimes." Jordan immediately wished he hadn't said such a thing. Pierre bit his lip and clenched his fists together; he was visibly beating himself up over this. "Don't beat yourself up over it though," he tried to console his friend, "I know you were just messing around. Those kids, they saw what they wanted to see. They saw a guy and a girl having a good time together and they got the wrong idea. It's not as if they know you and Chuck are seeing each other."
Pierre leaned back against the bench and placed his hands over his face. He inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times. "I don't even know about that anymore." The campers' playful screams and laughter nearly drowned out his response altogether.
"What?" Jordan snapped disbelievingly and shook his head. He reached over to give Pierre a light punch on the arm. "Don't say that, don't say that at all. Chuck might not be talking to you, but the two of you are still together."
He chuckled weakly and looked over to Jordan with pathetically sad eyes. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes." Jordan wasted no time in giving his firm, supportive answer. It had only been a few days since that breakfast morning when Chuck had only picked at his food and said virtually nothing while the others looked on with bemusement. It only took two hours that day before Jordan was told by Chuck's CIT, Danny, that the night before, Chuck had come in early from supposedly visiting the pool. When Danny had asked about it, he said that Chuck had morosely divulged to him the story of what he had done the previous night, all the while seemingly kicking himself. "You're being way too hard on yourself, Pierre."
"Yeah, or maybe he's being way too hard on me," Pierre replied gloomily and slumped back against the bench. He looked out across the lake and allowed his eyes to scan over the campers who would almost-certainly not need him today. This feeling of uselessness was really starting to bother him.
It was noisy in the cafeteria, to say the least. The noise was welcome for the time being; however, as Sebastien and Patrick were discussing something that should probably have been kept somewhat quiet.
"He hasn't put the carton of milk down in the last five minutes, he just keeps holding it. I bet a sleeve of cookies he drops it soon."
"He's mostly been keeping hold of food and dropping other stuff like spoons. If he keeps hold of it for five more minutes, the cookies are mine."
"You're on." Sebastien laughed and slapped Patrick on the back as he reached for a slice of watermelon, but kept his eyes locked on Thomas. The boy was sitting at a CIT table with the other Sixteens CITs. Over the last week and a half, Sebastien had noticed a gradual change with Thomas. The boy hadn't been as outgoing, and was instead slightly more introverted; his usual bickering sessions with Liza about her and that other CIT John were missing lately from their Art and Gym periods. Thomas was easily distracted now, and spent more of his time than usual in silence, looking off out windows, consumed with his own thoughts.
Marcus strolled over then from across the mess hall, approaching the table where Thomas and the others were sat. His presence was realized by Thomas just as the boy was bringing the milk carton to his lips. He hesitated for a moment, and a drop of milk fell onto his shirt as he shakily placed the carton onto the table. Sebastien watched with amusement as Marcus noticed Thomas's clumsy behavior and let out a laugh, which Thomas soon imitated, albeit he retained a bit of the nervous look.
"Well, he put the milk down -"
"But he didn't drop any silverware," Sebastien interrupted Patrick. "Those cookies belong to neither of us in particular."
The two turned back to see that Marcus had settled into a seat and he and the boys at the table were now chatting quietly, save for Thomas, who was idly poking the piece of pie on his plate with his fork. Sebastien knew that Thomas's crush on Marcus was getting worse, and he almost worried about what might happen if those two went another three weeks without actually acknowledging it. If Pierre and Chuck had been on good terms at the moment, Sebastien might have considered getting Chuck to go and talk to the boy; maybe slap him with some confidence and sense.
At the thought of his friends, Sebastien had to sigh. He looked across the mess hall and saw that Chuck was sitting with Chelsea near one of the girls' tables.
"I'm gonna go talk to them," he said and stood up from his chair.
"Alright," Patrick nodded and grabbed the last slice of watermelon from Sebastien's plate before he could. "I wanted to head over to see Sarah, anyway." He gave Sebastien a wink and walked off toward the table where Sarah was seated at the other end of the mess hall.
When Sebastien plopped himself into a seat next to Chuck at his and Chelsea's table, he grabbed a slice of watermelon from Chelsea's plate without giving so much as a greeting.
She gave him a scowl.
"I'm sorry!" He laughed, "Patrick ate my last piece."
"Fine," Chelsea rolled her eyes, "but only because you're hot."
Sebastien rolled his eyes and kicked Chuck's foot from under the table. "What's your story, man? Are you ready to stop being a jerk?"
Chuck rolled his eyes at this question and shoveled another forkful of pie into his mouth.
"Come on," Chelsea gave Sebastien's foot a kick. "Give him some slack. He's hurting."
"He's hurting Pierre, is what he's doing." Sebastien remarked and kicked Chuck's foot again.
"Oh yeah?" Chuck picked up a forkful of pie and used it to point at Sebastien. "When David starts allowing most of the people that you know to think that he's banging somebody else behind your back, you say that to me again."
The amused look on Chelsea's face as she looked at Sebastien clearly relayed that she thought Chuck had made a good point; even Sebastien had to sigh and try to find a way around the argument. He shook his head and finished his piece of watermelon. "I just don't understand how you can be ignoring him at a time like this."
At hearing this, Chuck uncomfortably crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his seat. He gave a quick glance in Chelsea's direction, and then looked back at Sebastien. Chelsea had been busy talking a bite of his pie, so he wasn't terribly concerned that she might have understood the true meaning behind Sebastien's words. He knew where this was headed, and he wanted to tell Sebastien that he had no business bringing that up.
Before he could respond, however, Chelsea chimed in. "I'm not saying that he wasn't being an idiot, but do you really think that ignoring him is going to make everything better?"
As he expected, Chelsea had no idea where Sebastien meant to go with his comment, which was just as well. She had no idea about what had happened with Pierre's mother two years ago, so naturally, she would not know that the anniversary of Pierre's mother's death was rapidly approaching.
Sebastien watched his two friends who were seated next to one another across the table from him. Between their bodies, he could see that Angela had entered the mess hall at some point, and was now standing just over at another table speaking with one of the Fifteens CITs.
"It's not that I think it'll fix anything with me and Pierre, it's that I just don't feel like talking to him right now. When I feel like talking to him, I will."
"Fine, be a five year old," Chelsea rolled her eyes. And with Angela simply walking around flaunting herself in front of him-" by this point, Sebastien had begun trying to get their attention to warn them about Angela being near, but it was a lame effort, "and trying to console him..."
"If Angela wants to try to hit on Pierre, that's her problem, not mine -"
"Oh, but, Chuck, I think it's just as your problem as it is mine." Both Chelsea and Chuck started as Angela stuck her head between the two of them and leaned her wrists against the table. She was smirking at Chuck. "Isn't that what this whole argument between the two of you is about, anyway?" She chuckled, "The fact that Pierre is attracted to me?"
Chelsea and Sebastien exchanged very astounded looks with one another while Chuck just rolled his eyes. "Please, Angie. Pierre is not attracted to you." Sebastien had to blink a few times to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him; he was sure that Chuck ought to be bitchslapping someone by this point.
"Chuck, please. This all because you feel threatened by me."
Under the table, Chelsea gave Sebastien's foot a swift kick, obviously trying to confirm that they were witnessing the same thing.
Very calmly, Chuck leaned his elbows on the table and gave an exasperated sigh. "Angela, if I felt threatened by you, would I be ignoring him, or would I be keeping a closer watch on him?"
In their small corner of the mess hall, there was a deep silence. After a beat, Angela stood upright and walked away, giving Chuck no response whatsoever. Sebastien and Chelsea bit their bottom lips, unsure whether they were allowed to laugh.
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Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: R
Category: AU, Comedy, Drama
Warning: Language, Slash
Pairing: Pierre/Chuck
Summary:
oh baby can't you see there ain't no place I'd rather be
Disclaimer: I don't own them. And if I knew them personally, I probably wouldn't write this.
-
Here We Go Again Chapter Ten
Pierre sat at the side of the lake and watched as a small group of boys timed one another's speed at swimming along the ropes. Jordan was sitting beside him on the Lifeguard bench, and Pierre was very happy that it was him and not Chuck. So far, it had been three days since Chuck began his silent treatment, and they had been three very miserable days. The skies were even filled with heavy grey clouds that looked like they might burst at any minute; those clouds matched his mood perfectly.
"It's getting pretty bad," Jordan was saying from somewhere off to Pierre's left, deeply immersed in a story that Pierre was only partially listening to. "Yesterday's lunch period was brutal. Thomas dropped a fork just because Marcus was leaning across the table to grab a Rubik's Cube from Gabriel. He's fucking losing it." Jordan observed his friend's mild nod while Pierre continued to stare out across the lake. "Kind of like someone else I know," he said and nudged Pierre's shoulder.
"Mm, what?" Pierre blinked and sharply turned his head to look at Jordan.
"You're cracking up, man," Jordan shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "Why don't you talk to him?"
Heaving a sigh, Pierre looked down at his hands. "I can't. I tried yesterday at the pool before everyone jumped in, and he acted as if I wasn't even talking to him. And it was his turn in rotation to sit up in the chair, but he got Carrie-Ann to go up instead."
Jordan shook his head silently and looked away, back out at the campers on the lake. He was brought back when Pierre spoke up again. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Jordan said, but didn't take his eyes off the lake. He watched a few girls playing a game at the edge of the dock. "What is it?"
"What were the campers saying about me and Angie?" Pierre's question threw Jordan for a loop. What was he to say?
Jordan coughed and shook his head. "Come on, you shouldn't be worrying about that crap." He didn't like seeing Pierre so down, and this discussion wouldn't help his friend's mood, he knew.
"No," Pierre shook his head and pursed his lips. Jordan thought he looked angry with himself. "Tell me. What did it look like?"
With a great sigh, Jordan looked down at his feet. Pierre saw this action and shook his own head, preparing to hear the worst. "Well, our campers weren't really so stupid," Jordan began, and Pierre knew he was referring to the whole of the Sixteens groups. "But then again, they all know Chuck."
"But someone was saying something," Pierre pressed.
"The younger years," Jordan admitted weakly. "The younger years, they would see you guys working together. The kids Marcus would work with, he'd say that the girls would, like, giggle when they saw you guys working together."
There was a pause, in which Jordan felt a giant weight settling on his shoulders. He felt very uncomfortable admitting all of this to Pierre. It was no one's fault, really, that the younger years were naïve enough to assume these sorts of things; it was just a shame that their innocent musings had to take this kind of a toll. "Did it really look like that?" Pierre asked quietly.
"Well, sometimes." Jordan immediately wished he hadn't said such a thing. Pierre bit his lip and clenched his fists together; he was visibly beating himself up over this. "Don't beat yourself up over it though," he tried to console his friend, "I know you were just messing around. Those kids, they saw what they wanted to see. They saw a guy and a girl having a good time together and they got the wrong idea. It's not as if they know you and Chuck are seeing each other."
Pierre leaned back against the bench and placed his hands over his face. He inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times. "I don't even know about that anymore." The campers' playful screams and laughter nearly drowned out his response altogether.
"What?" Jordan snapped disbelievingly and shook his head. He reached over to give Pierre a light punch on the arm. "Don't say that, don't say that at all. Chuck might not be talking to you, but the two of you are still together."
He chuckled weakly and looked over to Jordan with pathetically sad eyes. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes." Jordan wasted no time in giving his firm, supportive answer. It had only been a few days since that breakfast morning when Chuck had only picked at his food and said virtually nothing while the others looked on with bemusement. It only took two hours that day before Jordan was told by Chuck's CIT, Danny, that the night before, Chuck had come in early from supposedly visiting the pool. When Danny had asked about it, he said that Chuck had morosely divulged to him the story of what he had done the previous night, all the while seemingly kicking himself. "You're being way too hard on yourself, Pierre."
"Yeah, or maybe he's being way too hard on me," Pierre replied gloomily and slumped back against the bench. He looked out across the lake and allowed his eyes to scan over the campers who would almost-certainly not need him today. This feeling of uselessness was really starting to bother him.
It was noisy in the cafeteria, to say the least. The noise was welcome for the time being; however, as Sebastien and Patrick were discussing something that should probably have been kept somewhat quiet.
"He hasn't put the carton of milk down in the last five minutes, he just keeps holding it. I bet a sleeve of cookies he drops it soon."
"He's mostly been keeping hold of food and dropping other stuff like spoons. If he keeps hold of it for five more minutes, the cookies are mine."
"You're on." Sebastien laughed and slapped Patrick on the back as he reached for a slice of watermelon, but kept his eyes locked on Thomas. The boy was sitting at a CIT table with the other Sixteens CITs. Over the last week and a half, Sebastien had noticed a gradual change with Thomas. The boy hadn't been as outgoing, and was instead slightly more introverted; his usual bickering sessions with Liza about her and that other CIT John were missing lately from their Art and Gym periods. Thomas was easily distracted now, and spent more of his time than usual in silence, looking off out windows, consumed with his own thoughts.
Marcus strolled over then from across the mess hall, approaching the table where Thomas and the others were sat. His presence was realized by Thomas just as the boy was bringing the milk carton to his lips. He hesitated for a moment, and a drop of milk fell onto his shirt as he shakily placed the carton onto the table. Sebastien watched with amusement as Marcus noticed Thomas's clumsy behavior and let out a laugh, which Thomas soon imitated, albeit he retained a bit of the nervous look.
"Well, he put the milk down -"
"But he didn't drop any silverware," Sebastien interrupted Patrick. "Those cookies belong to neither of us in particular."
The two turned back to see that Marcus had settled into a seat and he and the boys at the table were now chatting quietly, save for Thomas, who was idly poking the piece of pie on his plate with his fork. Sebastien knew that Thomas's crush on Marcus was getting worse, and he almost worried about what might happen if those two went another three weeks without actually acknowledging it. If Pierre and Chuck had been on good terms at the moment, Sebastien might have considered getting Chuck to go and talk to the boy; maybe slap him with some confidence and sense.
At the thought of his friends, Sebastien had to sigh. He looked across the mess hall and saw that Chuck was sitting with Chelsea near one of the girls' tables.
"I'm gonna go talk to them," he said and stood up from his chair.
"Alright," Patrick nodded and grabbed the last slice of watermelon from Sebastien's plate before he could. "I wanted to head over to see Sarah, anyway." He gave Sebastien a wink and walked off toward the table where Sarah was seated at the other end of the mess hall.
When Sebastien plopped himself into a seat next to Chuck at his and Chelsea's table, he grabbed a slice of watermelon from Chelsea's plate without giving so much as a greeting.
She gave him a scowl.
"I'm sorry!" He laughed, "Patrick ate my last piece."
"Fine," Chelsea rolled her eyes, "but only because you're hot."
Sebastien rolled his eyes and kicked Chuck's foot from under the table. "What's your story, man? Are you ready to stop being a jerk?"
Chuck rolled his eyes at this question and shoveled another forkful of pie into his mouth.
"Come on," Chelsea gave Sebastien's foot a kick. "Give him some slack. He's hurting."
"He's hurting Pierre, is what he's doing." Sebastien remarked and kicked Chuck's foot again.
"Oh yeah?" Chuck picked up a forkful of pie and used it to point at Sebastien. "When David starts allowing most of the people that you know to think that he's banging somebody else behind your back, you say that to me again."
The amused look on Chelsea's face as she looked at Sebastien clearly relayed that she thought Chuck had made a good point; even Sebastien had to sigh and try to find a way around the argument. He shook his head and finished his piece of watermelon. "I just don't understand how you can be ignoring him at a time like this."
At hearing this, Chuck uncomfortably crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his seat. He gave a quick glance in Chelsea's direction, and then looked back at Sebastien. Chelsea had been busy talking a bite of his pie, so he wasn't terribly concerned that she might have understood the true meaning behind Sebastien's words. He knew where this was headed, and he wanted to tell Sebastien that he had no business bringing that up.
Before he could respond, however, Chelsea chimed in. "I'm not saying that he wasn't being an idiot, but do you really think that ignoring him is going to make everything better?"
As he expected, Chelsea had no idea where Sebastien meant to go with his comment, which was just as well. She had no idea about what had happened with Pierre's mother two years ago, so naturally, she would not know that the anniversary of Pierre's mother's death was rapidly approaching.
Sebastien watched his two friends who were seated next to one another across the table from him. Between their bodies, he could see that Angela had entered the mess hall at some point, and was now standing just over at another table speaking with one of the Fifteens CITs.
"It's not that I think it'll fix anything with me and Pierre, it's that I just don't feel like talking to him right now. When I feel like talking to him, I will."
"Fine, be a five year old," Chelsea rolled her eyes. And with Angela simply walking around flaunting herself in front of him-" by this point, Sebastien had begun trying to get their attention to warn them about Angela being near, but it was a lame effort, "and trying to console him..."
"If Angela wants to try to hit on Pierre, that's her problem, not mine -"
"Oh, but, Chuck, I think it's just as your problem as it is mine." Both Chelsea and Chuck started as Angela stuck her head between the two of them and leaned her wrists against the table. She was smirking at Chuck. "Isn't that what this whole argument between the two of you is about, anyway?" She chuckled, "The fact that Pierre is attracted to me?"
Chelsea and Sebastien exchanged very astounded looks with one another while Chuck just rolled his eyes. "Please, Angie. Pierre is not attracted to you." Sebastien had to blink a few times to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him; he was sure that Chuck ought to be bitchslapping someone by this point.
"Chuck, please. This all because you feel threatened by me."
Under the table, Chelsea gave Sebastien's foot a swift kick, obviously trying to confirm that they were witnessing the same thing.
Very calmly, Chuck leaned his elbows on the table and gave an exasperated sigh. "Angela, if I felt threatened by you, would I be ignoring him, or would I be keeping a closer watch on him?"
In their small corner of the mess hall, there was a deep silence. After a beat, Angela stood upright and walked away, giving Chuck no response whatsoever. Sebastien and Chelsea bit their bottom lips, unsure whether they were allowed to laugh.
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