The Charade

Chapter 9

David woke up the next morning and was alone.

He sighed sitting up and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

He's gone. The voice pointed out. He got what he wanted and now he's gone; might want to check the night stand for payment.

"Fuck off" David muttered climbing out of bed and pulling on a pair of underwear. "He's not gone, he just left."

For good probably, he's gotta find a replacement for us since you murdered the last one.

David walked through his tiny apartment to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He left it run and walked out to the living room.

"Everything okay?"

David turned sharply on his heel to face the source of the noise.

Pierre was sitting on the couch watching David curiously.

David nodded glancing at the flickering light of the TV.

"Thought you left..."

Pierre just shook his head. "Nope"

He doesn't trust you. He's judging you, can't you tell?

David didn't say anything else, just turned back around walking up the hall back to the bathroom.

Maybe he's afraid you'll kill him next.

David just chewed on his lip and kicked off his underwear before climbing behind the curtain.

He heard the familiar creak of the bathroom door and ignored it; he knew exactly who it was.

Maybe we could drown him; that would be fun.

The curtain pulled back and David didn't move, just kept his eyes forward.

Even when he felt Pierre's hands pushing up the front of his chest, Pierre's chest pressing against his back, his lips pressing against David's neck...

"Did you think about what I said?" Pierre asked kissing David's shoulder.

"What's it matter what I think?" David muttered "You've made up your mind already"

Pierre sighed rolling his eyes, but he spoke evenly, calmly. "If I had to make up my mind about something I wouldn't be asking you"

"I would rather tell the fucking world"

David pulled away from Pierre and climbed out of the shower finding a towel.

"And playing with my nipples and kissing my neck isn't going to change that"

**

Pierre sat between David and Chuck in the midst of an interview.

David hadn't spoken to him since that morning and it was driving him crazy; David had absolutely no right to be mad at him.

He felt David's hand rest on his thigh, glancing briefly at it in the middle of a question before turning his attention back to the interviewer; he wasn't going to give David the satisfaction, he'd been ignoring him all fucking morning, he wasn't about to give him what he wanted now, especially not in public.

They finished with the interview and everyone found their way back to the dressing room, everyone except Pierre and David.

They were walking down the small dimly lit hallway behind everybody else. Pierre grabbed David's wrist forcing him to stop walking.