All I Need
Title: All I Need
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: R
Category: Angst, Fluff
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Chuck/Pie
Note: This makes the third edition to my Chuck/Pie collection and the "Everytime" edition to my The Still Not Getting Any... Series.
Summary: [Standalone]
And now I'm sitting here. Like we used to do.
Disclaimer: I do not own the boys of Simple Plan.
I only suspect and wish that this is true.
-
All I Need
There he went again. What had happened between them and made things get to such a point that would make them split up, Pierre would never know. He sat at a patio table while Jeff wasn't far away, tuning his guitar, and watched out toward the street where Chuck stood talking into Patrick's camera. Pierre gulped back a sense of anger toward Patrick as he watched the two of them talking and when Chuck hit Patrick with a large exercise ball he'd been bouncing and the two began laughing, Pierre took notice that their laughter was causing them to lean over and step closer together and he found himself with half the mind to march right over and tear Patrick away from his Charles.
"His Charles." As if that was even a shadow of what it'd used to be; they have no relationship like that anymore and Pierre knows it, yet he still cannot help himself from thinking like that. It's a pathetic thing really, that he still thinks this way and that just last night he climaxed for the man - this only being pathetic because the two dropped their status as a couple more than two months ago. All of that aside he doesn't even know why he would have any ill will toward Patrick; the man is as heterosexual as they come - save for his one and only homosexual attraction, that being reserved for their young, blue-eyed, guitar-playing vamp.
Huffing, Pierre turned his attention to look at the table in front of him, the only thing there being a case holding his CD player and the only CD around is inside: Jimmy Eat World's Bleed American. He sighs and turns to see Jeff still fiddling with his guitar and decides to hide himself away in the music. He brings his headphones to his ears and presses play, leaning back and awaiting for the player to start. A long sigh releases from his mouth an he turned his head to watch the two back out in the street as the smooth sound of "Hear You Me" flowed to his ears.
Chuck and Patrick stood in the middle of the deserted road talking and Pierre watched from the distance, unable to stop the light thud that he felt in his chest when he thought he caught a glimpse of Chuck looking over in his general direction. Just as it had before, each time Pierre witnessed the two men in the street doing anything that showed even the most remote sign of attraction toward one another, his eyes would slit into a glare and he'd get half the mind to find Sebastien and bring him out to parade his broken frame in front of Patrick.
//
Pierre groaned and with another toss onto his side, he exhaled loudly, finding himself unable to sleep again. He sat up in his place on the studio sofa and rubbed his eyes, glancing around the dark room and seeing nothing. He sighed and rubbed his eyes again, leaning over in a hunched position for a few moments. When Pierre opened his eyes again, his attention was drawn to the hallway where someone had just exited the bathroom and the light illuminated the area for just enough time that he saw the top of a messy patch of hair protruding from a pile of sheets on the floor.
And his heart stopped. Pierre laid back and looked at the ceiling above the couch, unable to shake the one thought on his mind: they were sleeping in the same room - regardless of the fact that Chuck was asleep on the other side of the room near the television; they were still together. It had been some time since he could remember sleeping in the same room as Chuck and the thought alone was enough to make him miss it. It was still enough to make his stomach turn in that good way that made the feeling he'd always loved to feel when he was in a purely happy state.
Another toss in his sleep and Pierre sits up again, scoffing at his inability to rest with his stomach so aflutter. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the sleeping pile on the floor. Figuring that there wasn't a chance that he'd get back to sleep at this point, he nodded to himself and got up off of the couch and walked over, kneeling next to the sheet pile and tapping it's shoulder. The mass on the floor groaned and rolled onto it's back enough to look at the dark silhouette of Pierre.
"Pierre, what the fuck?" Chuck croaked out. He looked around, unable to see anything but the dark outline that he knew was Pierre and the small blur of faint blue coming from the window. He dropped his head back and sighed. "Make yourself useful and get my glasses from the table."
Pierre reached behind himself to the table and picked up the glasses, handing them back to Chuck. Charles put them on and turned his head to look at the digital clock on the VCR.
"Fucker, it's three o'clock. Why did you wake me?"
"I couldn't sleep," Pierre shrugged pathetically.
Chuck sighed, a small laugh escaping him and he shook his head. "So, you decided to take me down with you?"
Pierre flashed a smirk that went unseen due to there being no light and then he sighed. He watched as Chuck still lay on his back and the blankets above his chest moved along with his breathing. "Come on," Pierre said and tugged Chuck up into a sitting position, earning a large groan of protest. "I don't want to be awake by myself," he stated and pulled the sheets away from Chuck and ruffled his hair.
Chuck grumbled as he stood up (with the help of Pierre as he was clearly in no state to stand on his own) and followed to where he was being led.
"What the fuck are we doing up here, Pierre?" Chuck looked around in confusion as he found himself being led out the window of the top floor and onto the roof of the studio. In retrospect it wasn't even a window, it was more like a vent coming from the attic-slash-storage space that that was never used save for that one time when they were looking around to decide if this would be a good studio to use and he and Pierre had managed to find their way up here and proceeded to do, well, things. He wrapped the lone sheet he carried with him as he stepped out with Pierre and shook his head, thankful that it wasn't cold out.
"Just sitting... talking..." Pierre responded, walking over to a relatively open area of the roof and sitting down.
Chuck followed him and shook his head. "Fucker. I don't see the point in waking up at three o'clock in the morning just to come up to the fucking roof and 'talk.'"
Pierre shook his head and laughed at Chuck's incessant grumbling. "Don't you remember? We used to wake up like this all the time. And my, you've got quite a mouth on you there, haven't you?" His smirk hid the small bite he had to put on his lip at remembering their old early wakeups.
"It's still three o'clock in the fucking morning and I don't plan to have another fucking important thing to say for at least another four hours," Chuck groaned before looking at Pierre, almost glaring. "And my mouth, monsieur Bouvier, has always been this filthy. Don't you remember?"
He gave Chuck a smart look and lightly cleared his throat.
"Didn't think so."
With a roll of his eyes, Pierre blinked and looked at the street. "I remember it just fine," he said back with a tone. He sighed before a small smirk came to his lips and he glanced over at Chuck out of the corner of his eyes, seeing him look at the ground with a blank stare. "You know what else I remember?" He asked with a small laugh.
Chuck rolled his eyes and sighed, turning his head to Pierre. "What do you remember, Pierre?"
"I remember where you got that filthy mouth from," he smirked.
"What?"
Pierre chuckled, shaking his head. "Your dad would swear all the time when we were kids."
Scratching the back of his head, Chuck nodded knowingly and smiled. "Yeah, I probably did get it from him."
A beat of silence passed before, "Know what else I remember?"
He picked up his head and looked at Pierre. "What else?"
He nodded to himself. "I remember when we'd wake up this early, and go out for walks. Even out driving sometimes."
Quietly sucking in his breath, Chuck bit his lip. "Yeah, we would."
Pierre flicked his ear, thinking of whether or not he should voice what he wanted to. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and inwardly pinched himself. "Why don't we anymore?"
Chuck bent his head and scowled , not wanting to be discussing this. "It's odd doing that when we're not together anymore, isn't it?"
"We would sometimes before then -"
"That was still before we had a history, Pierre," he interrupted.
He was silent, thinking of a way to get what was on his mind out in the open. Pierre hated this. "Why aren't we anymore?"
With a scoff, Chuck sat back and even managed a laugh before speaking with a rather harsh tone. "Would you stop it already? You should fucking know as well as I do; it was your idea."
"What?" Pierre looked at Chuck, all of lost and he sat up straighter. "No, just, I know we were fighting, but... we always fight. I wouldn't just because of that."
"Fighting like we always did is right," he spat. "So with our last argument that's what I said and then you said 'So, maybe we should stop the fights and everything else all together.'"
"I wouldn't do that..." Pierre tried to explain, although what he said, he was unsure, himself. After their last fight he'd slept for about two days straight and much of what he remembered he found hard to decipher as true events or dreams.
Chuck growled and shook his head, looking away. "Fucker."
"What's that?" Pierre looked over, surprised with what he heard.
"I called you a fucker," Chuck said bluntly and glared at Pierre. "Saying you wouldn't do such a thing. Well, guess what, Bouvier, you did. You did say that and the three days after that you ignored me so I guess you meant it, too."
"Well, I did mean it once I found out about your going out to the bar with Patrick and Sebastien and what you - "
"You stop that!" Chuck cut him off and leaned in threateningly. "We were over and that was me letting off steam, trying to cope with it."
"Over? I'd hardly considered it over before that; I had the idea it would end the way it always did with us making up by the end of the week!"
"Pure shit, Bouvier. You can't try to pin this on me, I wasn't the one who decided to cut it off and after you did in the first place, I got to thinking, and you know what? You were probably right about it."
Pierre's face fell and he looked at Chuck, silent and obviously allowing him to continue.
"Relationships can't last on arguments and make-up sex alone, Pierre. Other things need to be there too, like feelings and common interests and - "
He didn't have a chance to continue as Pierre pushed him back and held him down, hovering over his body and kissing him forcefully. The kiss ended quickly and Pierre picked his face away but kept their positions still. "Is that all you really wanted? For me to tell you how I felt?" Chuck glared at him from his spot, not daring to move. "Fine. I miss you. I think I'm the dumbest prick in the world for what I did, I don't know why I said it - I don't even remember saying it."
"Quit your fucking sobbing, Bouvier!" Chuck growled and shoved Pierre off of him. Pierre, not being on guard for such a maneuver, fell back easily and gulped as his friend climbed over him, much the same way he'd done, and pinned his hands down to his sides. "I'm sorry you had such a delayed reaction over this whole thing but it's not my fault that you're a bit slow on the pickup of your actions. I've fucking dealt with all this and I haven't come crawling back to you, so why the fuck don't you just stop doing this to me and let me fucking try to deal with my own shit in peace?"
Pierre looked up at Chuck as he laid under him, feeling the whole weight of Chuck pressing down onto his wrists. He mused that the backs of his hands were probably red and indented by now, and that he couldn't recall the last time Chuck had ever seemed so angry. Certainly, they'd had their arguments before but Chuck had never seemed quite so livid before. Or maybe Pierre had just never noticed.
Feeling rather bold, albeit a bit more than he probably deserved to, Pierre looked up at Chuck; his hair disheveled and scowl on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and the tiniest of bags growing under his eyes, though they were somewhat hidden by the thin-rimmed glasses he wore. But still, Pierre knew the look they held.
"You want me," he breathed out lowly and clenched his teeth when Chuck huffed and pressed down harder onto his wrists.
"I should hurt you for saying that," Chuck sneered and pressed harder onto Pierre's wrists, sitting up straighter and basing himself on his hands. Pierre could feel the tingle in his fingers from the slowing blood circulation.
"But you do."
"What the fuck is it that you want from me, Bouvier?" Chuck sat back onto his heels, his legs over either side of Pierre's and he watched as he sat up and held his hands together, rubbing his wrists, trying to get the blood flow back into his hands. "Tell me; what is it that you're looking for? Do you want me to tell you that I've missed you too? Yes, Pierre, I've missed you; I want you; take me now, here on this roof; I'm all fucking yours."
Pierre gritted his teeth and looked at Chuck, using most of his willpower to not go along with the mocking suggestions Chuck had just made. "As ideal as that sounds, I'll settle for a chance."
Chuck huffed and shook his head clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. "Fucking asshole." He shook his head. "I don't want to give you a chance."
"I don't expect you to."
"It's right that you don't," Chuck snapped and Pierre brought his gaze down. "You tore my heart up and then come back now, waking me up at fucking three o'clock in the morning to bring me outside so that we can fucking 'talk' about absolutely nothing in particular - and then you advance on me, as if expecting me to just throw myself at you." Pierre looked up at Chuck with a cold expression in his eyes. "Why would I give you another chance?"
Blinking, Pierre sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "Because you want to. I know that look in your eyes."
"I'm sure that you do," he snapped.
"But, I do," Pierre assured and without thinking or either of them noticing, his hand settled on Chuck's side. "It's the look I get when all I think about is how much I want another chance. "
"You're being a fucking sap."
"And you're falling for it."
By this point Pierre had inched his way closer to Chuck's face and by this time, it was evident he wouldn't be pushed away again. Feeling so bold again, he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers over his cheek, Charles leaning in only a second later and wrapping his arms around Pierre's waist.
-
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: R
Category: Angst, Fluff
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Chuck/Pie
Note: This makes the third edition to my Chuck/Pie collection and the "Everytime" edition to my The Still Not Getting Any... Series.
Summary: [Standalone]
And now I'm sitting here. Like we used to do.
Disclaimer: I do not own the boys of Simple Plan.
I only suspect and wish that this is true.
-
All I Need
There he went again. What had happened between them and made things get to such a point that would make them split up, Pierre would never know. He sat at a patio table while Jeff wasn't far away, tuning his guitar, and watched out toward the street where Chuck stood talking into Patrick's camera. Pierre gulped back a sense of anger toward Patrick as he watched the two of them talking and when Chuck hit Patrick with a large exercise ball he'd been bouncing and the two began laughing, Pierre took notice that their laughter was causing them to lean over and step closer together and he found himself with half the mind to march right over and tear Patrick away from his Charles.
"His Charles." As if that was even a shadow of what it'd used to be; they have no relationship like that anymore and Pierre knows it, yet he still cannot help himself from thinking like that. It's a pathetic thing really, that he still thinks this way and that just last night he climaxed for the man - this only being pathetic because the two dropped their status as a couple more than two months ago. All of that aside he doesn't even know why he would have any ill will toward Patrick; the man is as heterosexual as they come - save for his one and only homosexual attraction, that being reserved for their young, blue-eyed, guitar-playing vamp.
Huffing, Pierre turned his attention to look at the table in front of him, the only thing there being a case holding his CD player and the only CD around is inside: Jimmy Eat World's Bleed American. He sighs and turns to see Jeff still fiddling with his guitar and decides to hide himself away in the music. He brings his headphones to his ears and presses play, leaning back and awaiting for the player to start. A long sigh releases from his mouth an he turned his head to watch the two back out in the street as the smooth sound of "Hear You Me" flowed to his ears.
Chuck and Patrick stood in the middle of the deserted road talking and Pierre watched from the distance, unable to stop the light thud that he felt in his chest when he thought he caught a glimpse of Chuck looking over in his general direction. Just as it had before, each time Pierre witnessed the two men in the street doing anything that showed even the most remote sign of attraction toward one another, his eyes would slit into a glare and he'd get half the mind to find Sebastien and bring him out to parade his broken frame in front of Patrick.
//
Pierre groaned and with another toss onto his side, he exhaled loudly, finding himself unable to sleep again. He sat up in his place on the studio sofa and rubbed his eyes, glancing around the dark room and seeing nothing. He sighed and rubbed his eyes again, leaning over in a hunched position for a few moments. When Pierre opened his eyes again, his attention was drawn to the hallway where someone had just exited the bathroom and the light illuminated the area for just enough time that he saw the top of a messy patch of hair protruding from a pile of sheets on the floor.
And his heart stopped. Pierre laid back and looked at the ceiling above the couch, unable to shake the one thought on his mind: they were sleeping in the same room - regardless of the fact that Chuck was asleep on the other side of the room near the television; they were still together. It had been some time since he could remember sleeping in the same room as Chuck and the thought alone was enough to make him miss it. It was still enough to make his stomach turn in that good way that made the feeling he'd always loved to feel when he was in a purely happy state.
Another toss in his sleep and Pierre sits up again, scoffing at his inability to rest with his stomach so aflutter. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the sleeping pile on the floor. Figuring that there wasn't a chance that he'd get back to sleep at this point, he nodded to himself and got up off of the couch and walked over, kneeling next to the sheet pile and tapping it's shoulder. The mass on the floor groaned and rolled onto it's back enough to look at the dark silhouette of Pierre.
"Pierre, what the fuck?" Chuck croaked out. He looked around, unable to see anything but the dark outline that he knew was Pierre and the small blur of faint blue coming from the window. He dropped his head back and sighed. "Make yourself useful and get my glasses from the table."
Pierre reached behind himself to the table and picked up the glasses, handing them back to Chuck. Charles put them on and turned his head to look at the digital clock on the VCR.
"Fucker, it's three o'clock. Why did you wake me?"
"I couldn't sleep," Pierre shrugged pathetically.
Chuck sighed, a small laugh escaping him and he shook his head. "So, you decided to take me down with you?"
Pierre flashed a smirk that went unseen due to there being no light and then he sighed. He watched as Chuck still lay on his back and the blankets above his chest moved along with his breathing. "Come on," Pierre said and tugged Chuck up into a sitting position, earning a large groan of protest. "I don't want to be awake by myself," he stated and pulled the sheets away from Chuck and ruffled his hair.
Chuck grumbled as he stood up (with the help of Pierre as he was clearly in no state to stand on his own) and followed to where he was being led.
"What the fuck are we doing up here, Pierre?" Chuck looked around in confusion as he found himself being led out the window of the top floor and onto the roof of the studio. In retrospect it wasn't even a window, it was more like a vent coming from the attic-slash-storage space that that was never used save for that one time when they were looking around to decide if this would be a good studio to use and he and Pierre had managed to find their way up here and proceeded to do, well, things. He wrapped the lone sheet he carried with him as he stepped out with Pierre and shook his head, thankful that it wasn't cold out.
"Just sitting... talking..." Pierre responded, walking over to a relatively open area of the roof and sitting down.
Chuck followed him and shook his head. "Fucker. I don't see the point in waking up at three o'clock in the morning just to come up to the fucking roof and 'talk.'"
Pierre shook his head and laughed at Chuck's incessant grumbling. "Don't you remember? We used to wake up like this all the time. And my, you've got quite a mouth on you there, haven't you?" His smirk hid the small bite he had to put on his lip at remembering their old early wakeups.
"It's still three o'clock in the fucking morning and I don't plan to have another fucking important thing to say for at least another four hours," Chuck groaned before looking at Pierre, almost glaring. "And my mouth, monsieur Bouvier, has always been this filthy. Don't you remember?"
He gave Chuck a smart look and lightly cleared his throat.
"Didn't think so."
With a roll of his eyes, Pierre blinked and looked at the street. "I remember it just fine," he said back with a tone. He sighed before a small smirk came to his lips and he glanced over at Chuck out of the corner of his eyes, seeing him look at the ground with a blank stare. "You know what else I remember?" He asked with a small laugh.
Chuck rolled his eyes and sighed, turning his head to Pierre. "What do you remember, Pierre?"
"I remember where you got that filthy mouth from," he smirked.
"What?"
Pierre chuckled, shaking his head. "Your dad would swear all the time when we were kids."
Scratching the back of his head, Chuck nodded knowingly and smiled. "Yeah, I probably did get it from him."
A beat of silence passed before, "Know what else I remember?"
He picked up his head and looked at Pierre. "What else?"
He nodded to himself. "I remember when we'd wake up this early, and go out for walks. Even out driving sometimes."
Quietly sucking in his breath, Chuck bit his lip. "Yeah, we would."
Pierre flicked his ear, thinking of whether or not he should voice what he wanted to. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and inwardly pinched himself. "Why don't we anymore?"
Chuck bent his head and scowled , not wanting to be discussing this. "It's odd doing that when we're not together anymore, isn't it?"
"We would sometimes before then -"
"That was still before we had a history, Pierre," he interrupted.
He was silent, thinking of a way to get what was on his mind out in the open. Pierre hated this. "Why aren't we anymore?"
With a scoff, Chuck sat back and even managed a laugh before speaking with a rather harsh tone. "Would you stop it already? You should fucking know as well as I do; it was your idea."
"What?" Pierre looked at Chuck, all of lost and he sat up straighter. "No, just, I know we were fighting, but... we always fight. I wouldn't just because of that."
"Fighting like we always did is right," he spat. "So with our last argument that's what I said and then you said 'So, maybe we should stop the fights and everything else all together.'"
"I wouldn't do that..." Pierre tried to explain, although what he said, he was unsure, himself. After their last fight he'd slept for about two days straight and much of what he remembered he found hard to decipher as true events or dreams.
Chuck growled and shook his head, looking away. "Fucker."
"What's that?" Pierre looked over, surprised with what he heard.
"I called you a fucker," Chuck said bluntly and glared at Pierre. "Saying you wouldn't do such a thing. Well, guess what, Bouvier, you did. You did say that and the three days after that you ignored me so I guess you meant it, too."
"Well, I did mean it once I found out about your going out to the bar with Patrick and Sebastien and what you - "
"You stop that!" Chuck cut him off and leaned in threateningly. "We were over and that was me letting off steam, trying to cope with it."
"Over? I'd hardly considered it over before that; I had the idea it would end the way it always did with us making up by the end of the week!"
"Pure shit, Bouvier. You can't try to pin this on me, I wasn't the one who decided to cut it off and after you did in the first place, I got to thinking, and you know what? You were probably right about it."
Pierre's face fell and he looked at Chuck, silent and obviously allowing him to continue.
"Relationships can't last on arguments and make-up sex alone, Pierre. Other things need to be there too, like feelings and common interests and - "
He didn't have a chance to continue as Pierre pushed him back and held him down, hovering over his body and kissing him forcefully. The kiss ended quickly and Pierre picked his face away but kept their positions still. "Is that all you really wanted? For me to tell you how I felt?" Chuck glared at him from his spot, not daring to move. "Fine. I miss you. I think I'm the dumbest prick in the world for what I did, I don't know why I said it - I don't even remember saying it."
"Quit your fucking sobbing, Bouvier!" Chuck growled and shoved Pierre off of him. Pierre, not being on guard for such a maneuver, fell back easily and gulped as his friend climbed over him, much the same way he'd done, and pinned his hands down to his sides. "I'm sorry you had such a delayed reaction over this whole thing but it's not my fault that you're a bit slow on the pickup of your actions. I've fucking dealt with all this and I haven't come crawling back to you, so why the fuck don't you just stop doing this to me and let me fucking try to deal with my own shit in peace?"
Pierre looked up at Chuck as he laid under him, feeling the whole weight of Chuck pressing down onto his wrists. He mused that the backs of his hands were probably red and indented by now, and that he couldn't recall the last time Chuck had ever seemed so angry. Certainly, they'd had their arguments before but Chuck had never seemed quite so livid before. Or maybe Pierre had just never noticed.
Feeling rather bold, albeit a bit more than he probably deserved to, Pierre looked up at Chuck; his hair disheveled and scowl on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and the tiniest of bags growing under his eyes, though they were somewhat hidden by the thin-rimmed glasses he wore. But still, Pierre knew the look they held.
"You want me," he breathed out lowly and clenched his teeth when Chuck huffed and pressed down harder onto his wrists.
"I should hurt you for saying that," Chuck sneered and pressed harder onto Pierre's wrists, sitting up straighter and basing himself on his hands. Pierre could feel the tingle in his fingers from the slowing blood circulation.
"But you do."
"What the fuck is it that you want from me, Bouvier?" Chuck sat back onto his heels, his legs over either side of Pierre's and he watched as he sat up and held his hands together, rubbing his wrists, trying to get the blood flow back into his hands. "Tell me; what is it that you're looking for? Do you want me to tell you that I've missed you too? Yes, Pierre, I've missed you; I want you; take me now, here on this roof; I'm all fucking yours."
Pierre gritted his teeth and looked at Chuck, using most of his willpower to not go along with the mocking suggestions Chuck had just made. "As ideal as that sounds, I'll settle for a chance."
Chuck huffed and shook his head clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. "Fucking asshole." He shook his head. "I don't want to give you a chance."
"I don't expect you to."
"It's right that you don't," Chuck snapped and Pierre brought his gaze down. "You tore my heart up and then come back now, waking me up at fucking three o'clock in the morning to bring me outside so that we can fucking 'talk' about absolutely nothing in particular - and then you advance on me, as if expecting me to just throw myself at you." Pierre looked up at Chuck with a cold expression in his eyes. "Why would I give you another chance?"
Blinking, Pierre sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "Because you want to. I know that look in your eyes."
"I'm sure that you do," he snapped.
"But, I do," Pierre assured and without thinking or either of them noticing, his hand settled on Chuck's side. "It's the look I get when all I think about is how much I want another chance. "
"You're being a fucking sap."
"And you're falling for it."
By this point Pierre had inched his way closer to Chuck's face and by this time, it was evident he wouldn't be pushed away again. Feeling so bold again, he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingers over his cheek, Charles leaning in only a second later and wrapping his arms around Pierre's waist.
-