Kings and Queens of Promise

I managed to get through the weekend without anymore dramatic occurrences. Every time I went into Jack or Pierre’s room, they’d be asleep. I kept Alex running errands for me and, by Monday, I was ready to have more to do. Of course, since Jared still wasn’t home from his trip, I ended up having nothing to do again and ended up hanging out with Frank in the pool house. So, Tuesday morning, when I woke up, I showered and put my pajamas back on before heading down to find Pierre. He was in his bed, sleeping. I went downstairs, having some lunch for myself before fixing something for Pierre: Jack was now completely healthy and had left early to go hang with his band.

“Hey,” Pierre greeted quietly as I entered his room.

“I brought you a sandwich, if you think you can eat it,” I said, setting it on his nightstand. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, going to get his water. When I returned, he was picking at the sandwich. “That’s all you’re getting until dinner, so you’d better eat.”

“Will you sit in here with me?” he asked hopefully. “You can watch TV or whatever you want.”

“Alright,” I agreed, crawling up next to him and sitting down. I grabbed the TV remote and flipped through the channels, eventually finding a FRIENDS marathon.

“Em, you’re great, you know that?” Pierre said as he leaned over to put his empty bowl on the nightstand.

“I know, I am,” I joked, elbowing him lightly. “It’s funny that I feel so comfortable with you.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, looking at me curiously.

“Because, you’re the lead singer in one of my favorite bands,” I smiled.

“Well, maybe it’s because you got to know me as a person before you knew me as Pierre Bouvier.”

“Bouvier?” I repeated, stifling a giggle.

“What? Is there something wrong with my name?”

“No, it’s just funny,” I giggled.

“Oh,” he rolled his eyes, elbowing me.

“What is it, French?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, so what’re the guys’ last names?”

“Chuck Comeau, Jeff Stinco, Sebastien Lefevre, and David Desrosiers.”

“I like David’s the best.”

“People always do,” Pierre said, shaking his head. I returned my attention to the TV, watching as the gang had Thanksgiving while Chandler was stuck in a box. As I watched, Pierre slid down so he was more laying than sitting, looking up at me.

“What?” I asked, noticing him looking at me.

“Nothing,” he said, looking away. I remembered the other day, when he’d kissed me. I wonder if he even remembered doing it. “So, what’s going on outside my room lately?”

“Not much,” I shrugged. “Jack, Frank, and I held a funeral for a butterfly.”

“Jack and Frank?” Pierre repeated. “I didn’t know you’d met Frank…and since when is Jack on speaking terms with you?”

“I just told him what was on my mind and he seemed to come around,” I shrugged. “He’s still very tense around me.”

“I still don’t understand his unexplainable fear of you,” Pierre said, shaking his head.

“Apparently, we have a history.”

“What kind of history?”

“I don’t know. I honestly can’t remember him,” I shrugged.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll come around. At least you’ve got him speaking to you?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. Pierre sighed and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me down so I was laying against his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Um, snuggling,” he said in a very ‘duh’ tone of voice.

“Pierre…do you remember Saturday morning?” I asked.

“I’m not sure…” he said. “The past few days have been a bit of a blur.”

“Oh.” I bit my lip, looking away.

“Why?” he asked. “Did I do or say something that got to you?”

“No…” I said uneasily.

“You sure?” At this point, he was looking at me and I could feel my cheeks heating up. His hand gently touched my face, tilting my chin up so I was looking at him. His warm brown eyes met mine and I could feel his breath against my lips.

“Pierre…” I whispered, “Don’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I don’t know you. We just met a week ago.”

“You know me.”

“But…I’m not sure I have…those feelings for you,” I said quietly.

“You have to have some feelings. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let me kiss you.”

“You do remember! I thought you-” I was cut off as his lips met mine in a kiss that could almost be described as desperate. His hand slid from my face to the back of my head, holding me against him as his lips moved fervently against mine. It took a moment before I thought to push him away. “Pierre, I can’t,” I said, trying to get up.

“Please, don’t go,” he said, holding me around the waist. “I won’t do it again, alright? I’m sorry.”

“I just…this is already hard for me,” I confessed. “I’m living in a new home, having to deal with Syn and Jared and Zacky and Jack…you’re my closest friend here besides Alex. What if we got into a relationship and then broke up? Then things would be weird. I just can’t risk that.”

“That, and you don’t have feelings for me,” he concluded.

“No, I…well, I don’t…I don’t know, Pierre. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This doesn’t have to be a relationship, Em,” he said, gently cradling my head in his hands. “But…I really, really would like to kiss you again.” I bit my lip, trying to decide. I knew it was a very bad idea. Even if he only wanted a kiss now, it would undoubtedly flower into him wanting a little bit more, and then even more. But the look he was giving me, a silent plea, was making my resolve crack and, on some level, he knew it. His grip tightened slightly as he drew my face closer to his, so his lips were only inches from mine. “Is this okay?” he asked quietly, breath hot on my lips. Slowly, I nodded.

Pierre looked at me for a moment, eyes staring intently into mine before his lips lightly brushed against mine. I let out a shaky breath before I started to kiss him back. After a minute or so, he rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him. His hands traveled down to my waist, holding on tightly as he slid his tongue smoothly past my lips. I tentatively met him halfway, lightly brushing my tongue against his. As the moments passed, I began to feel more comfortable and it got more intense. At some point, I even began to enjoy myself. I tangled my hands in his hair and deepened the kiss even more so, making Pierre let out a groan of appreciation. I’m not sure how long we just laid on his bed, making out, but before I knew it, the sound of the front door slamming made us jump apart. I almost laughed at his appearance: his hair was disheveled, his eyes were practically panic-stricken, and his lips were bright red.

“You look like a deer caught in the headlights,” I laughed.

“Who’s home?” he asked. I got up and crept to the door, looking out in time to see Jack stumble into his room.

“It’s just Jack,” I said, going back to Pierre’s bed. “Holy crap!” I exclaimed as I saw it was already five o’clock. “I have to make supper!”

“No need. I’m not hungry and Jack’s probably passed out drunk by now,” Pierre said, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

“I still have stuff I need to do,” I laughed. “How long has it been since anyone did your laundry?”

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

After cheerfully going into the laundry room attached to Pierre’s bedroom and throwing in a load of clothes, I decided to go up to my room to take care of Lily and check my email. Pierre protested, practically begging me to stay with him, but I insisted. I left his room and hurried up to my own, still smiling.

But my smile faded as I walked into my room. What was I doing? I had just made out with Pierre…and enjoyed it!

“Oh, God…”I mumbled, sitting on my bed and resting my head in my hands. With a sigh, I tried to make sense of my situation, but failed miserably. With no other alternative, I got up and ran downstairs and out back. In my haste I’d forgotten to grab my jacket…or shoes, for that matter, but I was running anyway.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing out here without any shoes?” Frank shouted from the door to the pool house.

“I need to talk to you,” I said, fighting a wave of shivers.

“Well, come inside,” he said, putting has arm around me and leading me inside. I appreciated the warmth that radiated from him as he held me against his side. This was the first time I’d actually been inside Frank’s house: usually we’d sit in his greenhouse full of roses. He’d told me about his rule: any of the guys could take flowers from the greenhouse, but if they touched any of the flowers in front of the pool house, they were dead.

As we entered the pool house, I looked around. The walls were full of photos and posters of various men and a few odd paintings. The floors were tiles of hardwood, but a huge swirl rug covered most of the floor. To the right was a bar that separated us from the kitchen, which was covered in a purple rug. “What’s with the rugs?” I asked.

“Oh, Syn said I can’t tear out the floors to put in carpet, so the rugs are my substitute,” he explained, leading me through an entryway on the left. This was undoubtedly the living room: there was a TV in the left corner and a fireplace next to it. “I don’t watch TV very often, but I use the fireplace every day when it’s cold.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because, Syn makes me pay the electric bill and this way I run up less electricity.” He led me to the couch, making me sit down and handing me a thick, faux-fur blanket. I looked down at the rug below the couch and saw it was multicolored squares and rectangles. “Do you want some tea?” he asked. “I just made it.”

“Yes, please,” I said, teeth chattering. He smiled before heading toward the kitchen. “I love your decorating.”

“I take what I can get. Every time I hear of a flea market, I get out my disinfecting kit and buy as many rugs, blankets, pillows, and furnishings as I can afford.”

“And how much money do you spend on plants?” I asked teasingly.

“Hey, I like to live life colorfully.”

“I can see that,” I said, glancing down at the rug.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked once we were both sitting on the couch with our tea.

“Well, it’s just…I don’t really know what’s happening,” I said. “I’m having…boy problems and I thought you might understand, since…y’know…”

“Since I’m gay,” he finished, nodding.

“Yeah. Well, um, the other day, the first day Pierre was really sick, he, um…he kissed me.”

“Yeah, girl, get it,” Frank laughed, whistling.

“Frank, come on, this is serious,” I said, showing him my serious face.

“Alright, continue.”

“Well, then today, he kissed me again. Then, I told him that I wasn’t in a place for a relationship and he said that what was between us didn’t have to be a relationship and I just…I felt happy about it. I don’t know why, but I did. Then we, um…well, we started making out and I actually enjoyed it. But I’ve only known him for like a week! I barely know him and I vowed I wouldn’t just sell myself out like that. I’m trying to be a good person, ever since my accident, and now I’m turning into some kind of slut!”

“Whoa, Em, calm down,” Frank said, laying his hand on my shoulder. “You’re just confused. You are a good person and you most definitely aren’t a slut. Pierre…Pierre has a way of making people happy, even in a not so happy situation.”

“Well, it’s not like he can control my emotions. I let myself think it was okay, but once I got away from him, I realized what a big mistake it was letting him kiss me. I mean, what if he expects this from now on? What if Syn finds out and fires me? Man, what if Jack finds out and hates me?”

“Em, don’t get ahead of yourself. Firstly, why should it bother Jack? You and Jack are not an item, even if you somewhat were in the past. He would never think of you as a slut, since he obvious has a major crush on you and thinks you could do no wrong. And as for Syn, he would probably just insist you give him a little something, too. My biggest concern, if I were you, would be Alex finding out. He may not be a fighter, but he will stand up and find a way to terminate your employment here.”

“Why? Just because me and Pierre are messing around?” I asked, cringing at the mental image.

“He is very protective of you, Em. Honestly, he would probably even face fighting Matt if it meant protecting you.”

“How do you know everything?” I asked, amazed.

“I’ve been working here for three years and I’ve been somewhat of a guidance counselor for these guys for at least two,” Frank chuckled.

“Really?” I asked. “Well, then, why am I just so blissful around Pierre, but freaking out when I’m away from him?”

“Maybe he’s just charming?” Frank suggested. “It’s not surprising. Pierre was the first one that was really kind to you, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, but I just…I don’t see him in a romantic way,” I admitted. “So why did him kissing affect me so much?”

“Maybe he’s just a good kisser. He is French, after all. I wonder if you’ll find out what else he’s good at,” Frank wondered aloud, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut it, perv!” I shouted, smacking him with a pillow.

“Oh, no, you didn’t.” He grabbed his own pillow and hit me in the face.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, smacking him again.

“War!” he shouted, begin to viciously beat me with his pillow. I fell right off the couch, hitting him in the stomach with my pillow before running away. He chased me into the kitchen and I jumped onto the bar, sliding across it and running back to the living room. I saw a door on the right and ran into what appeared to be Frank’s bedroom. I tried to slam the door, but Frank was too fast, grabbing it and wrenching it open. I dove for his bed, grabbing a green pillow from it and throwing it at Frank. He caught it and hurled it back at me. I threw myself across the bed to avoid it. “Alright, tickle time!” he declared, sitting on top of me and beginning an assault on my ribs.

“Oh, God, no! Frank, stop!” I squealed, tossing and turning to get him off. When I started hitting him, he grabbed my hands and pinned them over my head, smiling triumphantly down at me. I glanced down at our position and furrowed my brow, coming to a sudden realization. “Look, Frank. This isn’t even turning me on in the slightest. I have a hot guy sitting on me, and I’m not turned on at all.”

“I don’t know whether to be mad or thank you,” Frank said jokingly.

“I just don’t understand,” I said, sitting up.

“Forget about it,” Frank shrugged. “What’s it really hurting? Would anyone care if they found you and me making out?”

“Frank, they all know you’re gay,” I pointed out. His cheeks turned slightly pink. “Wait…they don’t?”

“All of them know, except one,” he said, getting off me and sitting on the edge.

“Frankie,” I said in a sing-song voice, “do you have a crush on one of our men?”

“No!” he said, a little too quickly.

“Frank, you’re a very bad liar,” I laughed. “So, which on is it? Maybe I could put in a good word.”

“Um, no thanks. I don’t want anyone to say anything to him.”

“Well, what does it matter if he finds out? If things get awkward, you just stay out here, as always,” I said. “So, come on, which one is it?”

“I, um…I can’t Em,” he said quietly.

“I’ll tell you one of my secrets if you tell me this one,” I begged.

“Well…tell me yours first,” he said.

“Well, I used to be a big partier. I did drugs and drank constantly. I still have the scars to prove it,” I said. Frank looked doubtful.

“You were a party girl?”

“Yeah, hard to believe, I know. Now, tell me who you like!”

“I like…” he started, cheeks now flaming red. “Zacky.” With that said, he threw himself facedown on the bed and covered his head with a pillow.

“Zacky?” I repeated. “Good lord, why on earth would you like him? He’s so bipolar, it’s ridiculous.”

“He’s not bipolar,” Frank said from under his pillow. “He’s incredibly smart and sexy and he loves nature as much as I do.”

“Zacky loves nature?” This was news to me. So far as I knew, his nose was always buried in his computer.

“Yes. Haven’t you seen his wall?”

“Um, his wall?”

“Yeah, the one with the window.”

“Oh, I’ve never really been in his room. I just open the door to yell at him,” I chuckled.

“Well, he’s got lots of animals. He has a dog named Ichabod and betta fish named Oswald and two ferrets named Bonnie and Clyde, a bunny named Bella, and three canaries named Margo, Tweety, and Sunshine.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of pets for a grown man,” I said.

“He loves them and they love him,” Frank said, finally coming out from under his pillow. “None of his pets have ever bit him, and they’re never noisy, he says.”

“That’s pretty cool. I might have to see all these animals,” I said. “This is very surprising. I’d never have pegged him as an animal lover.”

“No one would,” Frank said. “He just started liking animals when he got here.”

“Dang it, we got all distracted,” I said, suddenly remembering why I’d come out here. “What should I do about Pierre?”

“Keep it casual,” he said. “Right now, it’s not hurting anything. He’s lonely, you’re lonely. He’s not looking for a relationship, you’re not looking for a relationship. He wants a fuck-buddy, you’re available.”

“Frank!” I shouted, smacking him.

“You wanna start this again?” he asked threateningly, holding up a pillow. I sighed.

“So, you basically think I should do…nothing?”

“Exactly. If he goes too far, tell him. If you don’t want to make out with him, tell him. It’s that simple, do you want to make out with him?”

“Well…not at the moment,” I said.

“Then, if you feel that way next time he wants to, just tell him ‘I don’t want to make out with you’. If he gets mad, he’ll get over it. Pierre’s not one to hold grudges.”

“If you’re sure,” I said hesitantly, getting up.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Back inside where it’s warmer than in here,” I said. “Wanna join me? We can have a slumber party.”

“Alright,” he grinned, jumping up and throwing some pajamas and a change of clothes into a grocery bag. “This will be fun.”