Title: Daydreaming
Author: thefiretonight and revengetherapy
Pairing: David/Pierre
Rating: PG-13
POV: 3rd Person
Summary: AU about Pierre as a daydreaming college student.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Author Notes: brought to you by bears. <3



Out of everything that once described Pierre Bouvier, shy was never once used before the hyper active teenager turned into an early twenty something year old college student. Maybe it was the intense courses he just wasn't ready for or the hordes of unruly masses that seemed to like to bump into him on his way to attempting to make it to his lectures on time. Pierre wasn't quite sure. He just knew that he probably wasn't cut out for this college thing but he was going to damn well try his best so that his parents would not kill him after he dropped out like a pathetic loser.

Being a loser was just something that Pierre would not be ready to admit until an odd family reunion fight, preferably not until he was in his 40's. He could picture in his head, the screaming of his elderly mother that he never amounted to anything and was just a waste of their hard earned savings, a small frown on his face as the boy entered the school's one and only cyber cafe. Pierre's only contact with the outside was there, in the form of the computers on which he ended up instant messaging and emailing his friends back home who couldn't afford the trip to visit their old friend. Nor could Pierre or his parents afford a phone for him, let alone a trip home, other than holidays and summer breaks.

Pierre didn't like to admit it, but there was an ulterior motive behind going to the café at that time of day. Like every day. He'd shrug it off if anyone asked about it, he'd put it down to it being quiet, mid-afternoon, something like that. In reality, around ten to three was when he walked past. Well, ran past; pulling on a mostly-pristine white lab coat, folders under one arm, coffee thermos under the other, glasses slipping off his nose... Pierre watched him every day, crossing the park plaza to the Science buildings, always busy, always in a rush. He knew nearly everyone struggled with their work; even his best friend, Chuck, who had always been studious to a fault, found himself pushed for time these days. Or maybe even the people he held dearest didn't like him much any more, who knew.

Sometimes, Pierre wished he could casually catch up the other man on the way to a class, but he always seemed like he had somewhere better to be, and for once the brunette couldn't find the nerve to spring a line on a stranger. Hell, he'd settle for actual conversation with this one, whoever he was. Giving himself a morose glare in the reflection of the café's refrigerator, he signed off and packed up his things. If he didn't go to this lecture, his absence would put him in danger of failing the class, and there was no way in hell he could do that.

There weren't too many things Pierre was sure of anymore (his GPA being one of them) but he did know what gorgeous was when it passed him right by. In this case, it was the boy who captured his attention. The first day he saw him, he almost ran into a post. Pierre had quietly thanked the Gods that he hadn't, for if he had, he'd sure have been burnt by the hot coffee he was carrying. Instead he barely missed the pole, ending up with an empty cup and a blush spilled across his cheeks, along with coffee across the cafe's floor.

Embarrassing memories aside, Pierre made a mad dash towards his lecture into the science building near the edge of the campus. Along the way, he let his mind drift off to thoughts of how nice it might be to hold the boy's hand as well as his books as they made their way to the building, together.

Lost in his own little make-believe world, he realized too late that he'd gone far past his own lecture hall, and had to back up. Damnit. He was already running late. His day really couldn't seem to get any worse. Trudging back down the hallway, he started to wonder if it was really worth it. Maybe his parents wouldn't care too much if he just disappeared. He'd be a disappointment either way. Maybe he could just run off and never come back. With all the money he didn't have, especially not with such a debt on his shoulders, and a car that barely ran. Maybe Chuck would come with him. Ha. It was easier just to go the lecture, pretend to listen, fail his class anyway, drop out, die in a hole...

A soft voice carried through the classroom as Pierre snuck into the back row of seats in the lecture. It was obvious that they had a guest lecturer. Certainly it was a nice change of pace versus the shrill of his normal professor. The hopeless boy opened up his backpack, pulling out his notes and pen only to draw his eyes to the front to the class to the source of that voice.

Him.

Pierre scrabbled through his notes, checking every page, in case they'd included him in anything; a photograph, a footnote. Nothing. He raised his head, watching the dark haired man with more attention than he'd given anyone all year. This man was vivacious, animated, waving his arms around as he spoke with dramatic cheer. The student was fairly sure he was in love with the guest speaker. Of course, the subject of polymorphism could only be exciting for so long, and once again Pierre found himself drifting off into his fantasy land, where the object of his desires was wearing only that infamous lab coat, and the way his r rolled off his tongue would roll right into his mouth; he'd make those glasses fog up before they slipped off his nose, all shaking hands on delicate, pale skin, a little rough, a little awkward, a little perfect.

In his mind, the guest speaker's hands were wrapping themselves around his neck, post cordial. Nose flushed into Pierre's broad shoulder as Pierre cleaned off the other's glasses with a spare end of a bed sheet. A smile crept along his lips as he crashed back into reality.

He was alone in the hall. Not even his teacher, who usually stayed after for about twenty minutes to answer questions. Pierre was pretty sure he wasn't going to make his next class on time.

Dragging his bag down the stairs and into the corridor, Pierre skulked down the hall. He only had one more class that day, and then could go 'home' to his hole of an apartment (it was cheaper than college dorms for a reason), decide which flavor ramen he wanted with his shitty beer (that he was surprised he could even buy, on account of he looked ridiculously young for his age) before falling asleep over a paper due last week. He'd be late for it, but having spent an hour or so in relative company with the man of his dreams was enough to weigh out everything going wrong in his life.

Of course when the last class of the day was let out, water started to drip onto Pierre's back as he lifted his bag onto his shoulder and sighed. He forgot an umbrella and would mostly likely be completely soaked by the time it would take for him to walk back to the complex a few blocks away from the campus. The boy huffed to no one in particular and decided that just this once, he could spend a few extra dollars on a cab home.

A few minutes had passed as Pierre waited for any signs of a yellow vehicle coming towards the pick up area. His shirt was now pretty wet, clinging a bit to his chest, making him slightly uncomfortable. A soft voice and a sudden shadow over him, combined with no longer feeling the dripping beating down on his back signaled to Pierre that he wasn't alone anymore. He knew that voice, more importantly as he turned to see who it was, he knew that face.

The dark haired boy smiled brightly at Pierre, standing on his toes to able to get the umbrella over both himself and the one who had daydreamed about him so often. "You looked like you were getting cold."

This was certainly the craziest day Pierre had experienced in a while. "You were in the lecture earlier, right? I think I saw you at the back?" The brunette tried to find words, but his mouth ran frustratingly dry. He settled for a nod. "I don't think you answered the register, though..." He watched the other man's eyes narrow in thought behind slightly bleary lenses, and swallowed hard. "Bouvier?"

"I- yeah, that. That's me. Pierre." He wasn't wearing his lab coat any more, Pierre began to notice. He had a long, black overcoat that brushed his calves.

"David. Desrosiers. Nice to meet you, Pierre." He took his free hand out of his pocket to shake the student's.

David's hand fit perfectly into Pierre's, he thought. It was so soft, warm; a smile slowly crossed Pierre's face as he looked down at their hands meeting, his cheeks a bit rosy.

"So if you're headed the same way, we could share a cab. Lord knows not many pass by here, students never really have extra pocket money for them, anyway." David seemed so nice and sincere. A gentle cough escaped the raven haired man as Pierre slowly remembered to pull his hand away.

"Uhhh, sure, if you don't mind," Pierre felt as though his voice cracked a bit as he spoke, even if it actually did or not. A small cab pulled up and the man driving stepped out to open the door for the two males. David gracefully stepped into the cab first, closing his umbrella as Pierre's heart came crashing down in front of him.

David's left ring finger. A small silver wedding band.

So much for daydreaming, then. Pierre looked down at the ground, quietly getting into the cab. Maybe he wasn't meant to have so many distractions, anyway.