One Step At A Time [boyxboy]

Chapter 12

David and Pierre stood in front of a large, oak door, both with slightly anxious expressions on their faces. Pierre turned to look at David, wondering why they hadn’t yet gone inside. “Dave?” he asked, pulling David from his trance-like state, and causing him to turn to look at him. “What’re we doin’?” he asked, blinking rapidly.

“Umm...” David trailed off, looking back slowly at the door. How could he explain that he was nervous to see his dad? He hadn’t seen him in quite a while, and even when they had seen each other in the past few years, they barely interacted. How could he explain his reasoning for choosing to live with his mother rather than his father? How could he explain that he felt guilty for choosing his mom because she had more money, even though he truly got along with his dad better? He couldn’t recall ever actually walking into his father’s new house, although he’d lived in it for at least five years, so it was only natural for him to feel like a stranger in it. “I’m waiting for you to ring the doorbell,” David decided, turning to look at Pierre again, but this time with an impatient, accusing look. 

Pierre raised an eyebrow at David, but rang the doorbell anyway. “Jeez, ya could ‘a’ told me...” he muttered, looking back to the door. “Ain’t ‘cha never been insahd buhfore?” Pierre asked, looking back to David, who offered a shrug as a response. “Then why can’t ‘cha go insahd without rangin’ the doorbell?” David just shrugged again, keeping his eyes trained on the door. Pierre sighed, seeing he wasn’t going to get a real response, and just turned back to the door as well. He knew David well enough now to know that when David didn’t respond the first time or the second time, he wasn’t going to respond at all. Stubborn ass, Pierre thought, looking down at his feet slowly. His attention was drawn back up quickly when the door opened, and he saw a relatively short man with bright blonde hair standing there. 

“David!” he exclaimed, before pulling David into his arms. 

David returned the hug half-heartedly, patting the man a few times on the back. “Hi dad,” he said as he pulled back. 

“Come in, come in!” David’s dad offered, opening the door wider and grabbing one of David’s bags. 

“Come on,” David instructed, turning to look at Pierre. Pierre noticed that strained, slightly stressed look back on David’s face, but didn’t ask him about it; he just nodded, grabbed his bag, and followed David into the house, making sure to close the door behind him. He looked around the house, his eyes wide and mouth open with awe. Everything was so sparkly, clean, and big. He was pretty sure he’d never seen such a grand house before in his life! It looked to him like a movie star would live there, or something! “Pierre, this is my dad,” David said, snapping Pierre’s attention back to him. “Dad, this is Pierre,” he continued, pointing from one to the other. 

Pierre smiled and dropped his bag on the ground next to his feet, offering his hand out to David’s dad. “Nahce tuh meet ‘cha,” he said, giving the man a firm handshake as he took his hand. 

“You too,” David’s dad said, shaking his hand back. “I may be ‘Dad’ to him, but you can call me Mr. Desrosiers,” he said, pulling his hand back and standing up straight.

“Mr. Day... Day.... Day whut nah?” Pierre asked, scratching his head with confusion. 

David smiled at Pierre, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t know my last name?” he asked with a laugh. 

Pierre shook his head. “Ah just figgered it was Forrester, lahk yer mama,” Pierre said with a shrug. 

David’s dad laughed and shook his head. “Well, it’s Desrosiers,” he repeated slowly, his french accent sounding rather impressive.