Am I More Then You Bargained For Yet? [Standalone]

Title: Am I More Then You Bargained For Yet?
Rating: NC-17
Author: Moi, blackeyedwicca
Pairing: Pierre/David
Chapter: Standalone
Summary: Ever since David wore his dress for Halloween, his band were constantly telling him it was okay to dress in drag. Pierre more then any of them.
Beta: Christine. My, lovely, lovely awesome friend who I adore. *smooshes*
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don’t own anything. Hell, I don’t even own a skirt O_o
Dedication: helpnewopensave for requesting this. Sorry it’s so late!!
A/N: Okay so, this is the prompt ‘skirt’ from my prompt table. Feel free to request something. Just click the link and follow the guidelines. Title of this shamelessly stolen from FOB. And yes, I'm posting again. Sue me :P Please don't, heh.



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It wasn’t a fetish.

David told them straight up, it wasn’t, okay? He just did it for laughs. You know, Halloween combined with a random and spastic David? Yeah, see, it totally made sense for the dress to be his choice.

So, you know, seriously, they needed to stop telling him he could wear girls clothes and that they didn’t mind.

Okay, because, yeah, he was gay. What he wasn’t though, was a trans-fucking-vestite, and he would appreciate it if they all stopped slipping him Rocky Horror Picture Show DVDs for fuck’s sake.

It was starting to get on his nerves because the last time he checked, he’d never worn a dress, skirt, or panties before that Halloween show in his life.

It was a once in a lifetime, never to be repeated moment that was meant to be a fucking joke, and now they wouldn't leave him the fuck alone.

Pierre? Yeah, he was the worst one of them all. He was practically telling David to wear girl clothes. And seriously, what the fuck? If Pierre wanted a girl to be their bassist he could just ask, Jesus.

It was almost like Pierre wanted him to parade around in drag. Which you know, was creepy in itself. Just, the idea of a guy liking another guy in drag concerned him a little. It was like they were really sexually confused. Guy or girl, who do I pick?

The fact that it was Pierre though, made it a little less plausible in his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Pierre was capable of liking guys. He figured anybody had the potential to be bisexual. It was just… he couldn’t see Pierre having a thing for him.

Pierre had been given plenty of opportunities to kiss, grope, fuck or confess undying feelings of love to David, and he hadn’t. Two years of being openly gay, and no suggestive flirting? David just concluded: well fuck, so much for that chance.

So yeah, he just waved it all off, pushed anything he had to down and went on with his life. He’d been doing fan-fucking-tastic too. Then of course, his little escapade with the dress and now it was like coming out as gay all over again.

At least the guy’s hadn’t tried to start setting him up with transvestites. That was one thing he didn’t need.

Still, his complete lack of interest in girl’s clothes seemed to have got the rest of the band to leave him alone. He just needed to fucking drill it into Pierre’s thick skull that he didn’t want to be a fucking chick and all would be fine.

He was completely prepared to do that, too. It had taken an hour and a bit of pacing, but he was marching up to his and Pierre's room, ready to hit Pierre if need be and knock some sense into him.

However, he’d opened the door and made his way to the bedroom only to stutter to a stop and stare at the bed he had claimed earlier in the day.

Blinking a few more times, he shouted, completely mortified and not even caring if Pierre was in the room or not, “WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A SKIRT, STOCKINGS AND HIGH HEELS ON MY BED?!?!”

He continued to gape at them once he’d finished, not moving until Pierre spoke from the direction of the bathroom, voice quiet, “Because I want you to wear them.”

Turning startled eyes on the singer, he found him flushing, his eyes trained on the ground.

“You want me to what?!” David asked, his voice sounding strained to his own ears.

Pierre shrugged, still not looking at him. “I want you to wear them.”

David blinked. “What the fuck are you? Sexually confused or some shit?”

Because, seriously? What else did he want? Lipstick and a bra with a few tissues shoved in it to complete the effect?

Pierre ran a hand through his hair, looking completely fucking embarrassed and awkward. “I don’t know,” he tugged at his hair before looking at David for the first time since he’d entered the room, “but seeing you in that dress was the hottest thing I’d ever fucking seen.”

Confusion overruled any of the embarrassment he was feeling as he gestured at the skirt. “And this was your big idea of telling me? Throw women’s clothes at him and hope he bites?”

Pierre flinched a little, before seemingly unable to help it he asked almost fucking hopefully, “Would you bite me?”

Eyes wide, David exclaimed, “Oh my god.”

Not even waiting for an answer he turned and started to leave the room. Pierre quickly caught up with him though and grabbed his wrist. “Wait, David-”

“Oh no,” David shook his head, “I do not want to know what other fantasies you’ve had me star in.”

Pierre looked pained. “David, just. Fuck. Look, it’s not like that, okay?”

Pulling his wrist free, David crossed his arms and demanded, “Then what is it like, Pierre. Please, enlighten me.”

Pierre licked his lips, eyes falling to the floor again. “I… I just.” He groaned. “I think you’d look pretty in a skirt. I always have since like, fuck, the first day I met you,” he tensed a little, “I’d always sort of had a thing for guy’s who did that, and then you. Just. Fuck. That dress.”

He flicked his eyes to David’s. “You tempt me on a good day, David. But I still don’t know what kept me from kissing you on stage that night,” his voice lowered, “or from doing a lot more to you in the dressing room.”

David sucked in a breath as his stomach twisted.

“Shit, Pierre,” David whispered.

He sighed before letting the bassist’s wrist go. “You don’t-I mean. Just, fuck,” he ran a hand through his hair again, “I’m sorry. I got-I shouldn’t have, just.” He sighed. “I’ll shut up.”

He went to take a step back, but David reached out and lightly touched Pierre’s shoulder, making him freeze and focus his eyes somewhere around David’s chest.

“Look, Pierre. I honestly think someone who finds a guy in drag attractive is sort of creepy,” he flinched and looked ready to pull away, but David quickly grabbed Pierre’s shirt, “But, I’ve done a lot worse with past partners.”

He looked up at David, eyebrows furrowed as he questioned cautiously, “What are you saying?”

David shrugged awkwardly. “As long as having a relationship with you won’t fuck up the band,” he brought his eyes to Pierre’s, “I’d wear them for you.”

He’d barely finished speaking before Pierre was pressing him against the door, one hand up his shirt and the other on his hip as he kissed him.

A small squeak of surprise escaped, but he quickly kissed back, the hand on Pierre’s shoulder moving to curve around his neck.

The movement however, made Pierre break the kiss and move to brush his lips over David’s throat. “Are you sure about this? Not just the girl parts?”

David moaned as Pierre sucked a piece of skin into his mouth, before grumbling slightly, “As if you’re really giving me a choice.”

He started to pull back at that, but David just tugged his neck, bringing Pierre’s lips back to his skin. “That wasn’t a fucking no.”

David felt Pierre’s grin on his neck as he brushed a kiss there. He then moved up to David’s ear and asked, “Is it too much to ask for you to wear something on the first go?”

Scrunching his eyebrows in thought, he decided, “I’ll wear the skirt. That’s it.”

It was so out of place, but Pierre was suddenly hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

When Pierre pulled back, grinning widely. David sighed slightly. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“Hey,” Pierre’s smile dropped, and he brought a hand up to lightly brush David’s cheek, “You really don’t have to, David.”

Smiling slightly, he moved into the touch. “Just don’t make me go out in public in this shit and I’ll survive.”

Pierre shook his head, moving close and brushing a light kiss to David’s lips. “Nope. You’re all mine.”

A small shiver wracked David’s frame, but Pierre just smiled before tugging him into the bedroom and shutting the door. The singer quickly filled with nerves though as his eyes darted between the outfit on the bed and David.

Sighing again, David pulled his hand free before walking over to the skirt. He picked it up before turning back to Pierre. “I’ll just go uh… get changed?”

Pierre nodded. “I uh, yeah, thank you, I’ll um,” he gestured at the bed, “Get rid of the other stuff.”

“Okay,” David agreed, feeling awkward as he hurriedly stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Leaning back against it, he shut his eyes before muttering, “The things you do for a fucking crush, seriously. Just, fuck.”

Continuing to curse and mutter under his breath. He got out of his jeans, kicked off his shoes and took off his socks before he hesitated. He chewed on his bottom lip for a few moments before deciding, fuck it, and put the skirt on over his boxers.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he edged in front of the mirror to look at himself. He blinked a couple of times because, okay, seriously. He didn’t look too bad. Like a bit of an idiot, sure. But it wasn’t as horrible as he’d imagined.

Just as he reached down to finger the material, he heard his name being nervously called from the other room and making him jump slightly. Edging over to the door, he opened it a little and poked his head out.

“I look ridiculous,” he told Pierre as the singer sat on the edge of his bed, bouncing his leg and tapping his finger against the mattress.

His eyes snapped to David, but upon only being able to see his face, he dropped his gaze to look at his now still legs. “You really don’t have to David. I can… I mean, you don’t have to at all.”

“Shut up, Pierre,” he muttered, flushing as he slowly pulled the door back and stepped out. Wrapping his arms around his chest, he watched the singer’s eyes travel over him and making him feel so fucking embarrassed.

Pierre’s eyes rapidly darkened and he swallowed visibly.

“Come here, David,” he said, his voice rough and making David shiver.

He did as Pierre said though, walking over to him and stopping in front of the older man.

“Do you-”

“Twirl,” Pierre whispered. His eyes were on the skirt.

David bit his bottom lip, but something in Pierre’s voice made him step back and do as the singer asked, the skirt fanning out around him.

When he stopped and faced Pierre again, the singer’s eyes slowly moved up to his. “Come here.”

He did as he was asked, but as soon as he reached him. Pierre pulled him down and onto the bed before swiftly climbing on top of him and pressing a harsh kiss to his mouth.

Moaning slightly, David reached up and gripped the back of Pierre’s shirt, pulling their bodies even closer together.

Pierre broke it quickly to groan out, “The things you do, David. Fuck. You’re so hot.”

David barely even had the chance the blush before he was being kissed again as Pierre’s hand start to creep up his thigh and towards the skirt. He skimmed underneath it, making David arch slightly and break the kiss to grunt.

With a smile, Pierre’s hand slipped out before lightly gripping the waistband of the skirt and David’s boxers. David quickly grabbed Pierre’s arm though, making the singer frown.

He smirked, his usual attitude coming back as he asked, “How hot would it make you to fuck me wearing it?”

Pierre cursed, dropping his forehead to rest it on David’s shoulder as he stayed completely still. “David, don’t.”

“Why?” David asked, confused.

He let out a shaky breath. “Because the thought of that is going to make me come, shit.”

David bit his lower lip, but it still didn’t stop the smile from appearing as he curved his body up, pressing it to Pierre’s before he whispered in the other’s ear. “Am I making you hot in a skirt just for you, Pierre?”

He moaned lightly, and David full out smirked. “What would you do if I’d worn the stockings and the heels? Or maybe an outfit? A secretary or even a French maid?” Ready to do whatever you wanted.” Pierre’s breathing was getting heavy and he was lightly grinding against David’s thigh, but he didn’t care, he wanted Pierre to loose it.

Lightly tugging on Pierre’s ear with his teeth, he let go to purr out, “Maybe you could even fuck me up against a wall and in a dress next time.”

“Fu-uck,” Pierre moaned out.

It wasn’t until he slumped slightly that David realised with some surprise. “Holy shit, you actually did come.”

“Shit,” Pierre panted, “What the hell did you expect?”

David blinked a little. “That you were just, well, lying?” Pierre lifted his head to look at David, his eyebrows furrowed, so David elaborated. “I’ve never fucking made people come with words alone before, Pierre.”

“It wasn’t just words,” Pierre insisted, “You just. Fuck. I’ve wanted you for years and then you… you.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You actually play out my fucking kink and get into it. Shit, David,” he shuddered, “The images you gave me,” he opened his eyes, “I didn’t even let myself imagine them.”

David looked kind of sheepish then. “Um, sorry?”

“No,” Pierre shook his head and bent down, lightly kissing David, “Trust me, you’ve just. Fuck man. You don’t even know how perfect you are.”

David blushed a little, looking down at Pierre’s chest. “I just wore a skirt and said a few things.”

He was kissed again, harder this time, before Pierre said, “You’re perfect. Shut up and accept it.”

David pouted, but it disappeared entirely when Pierre edged down his body, making his eyes widen. When he lifted up David’s shirt and kissed his stomach slightly, David let his head fall back on the pillow.

“Pierre-”

“Shh,” Pierre said, cutting him off and pushing the skirt up so it was curved over and onto his stomach, “Let me.”

Pulling his boxers down, Pierre moved forward and brought his mouth down on David. The bassist moaned and Pierre hands quickly went to his hips, stopping him from arching too far off the bed.

He quickly reached down and threaded his fingers in Pierre’s hair, tugging every few seconds as small whimpers escaped, because shit, Pierre wasn’t teasing. He was swallowing, sucking and rubbing his tongue in all the right places.

Pierre had barely been at it a minute, before David was hissing out the singer’s name, trying to warn him, but Pierre didn’t move. He just took more of David in his mouth and sucked hard.

Crying out, David arched forward, hands pulling at the strands of Pierre’s hair. Pierre just swallowed it all down before slowly moving off David, the bassist’s hands falling from his hair.

Smiling, he pulled David’s boxers the rest of the way down before throwing them to the floor and climbing up to lay beside him.

David turned and lightly placed his hand on Pierre’s chest. Moving closer, Pierre wrapped his arm around the bassist’s waist.

“Don’t you want to change your pants?” David questioned even as he started curling into Pierre and shutting his eyes.

Stroking David’s spine softly, Pierre replied, “I’ll live.”

“I’ll be here when you get back, you know,” David murmured.

Placing a soft kiss to David’s forehead, Pierre replied, “I know. I just don’t want to leave right now.”

“If I wasn’t about to fall asleep,” David yawned, “I’d offer to share a shower with you.”

Pierre grinned. “I could carry you? The cold water would wake you up.”

Cracking open his eyes; he seemed thoughtful, before he said, “Okay.”

Smile widening, Pierre got off the bed, and with some help from David rearranging himself, was holding him bridal style. David’s arms wrapping around his neck.

“It’s too bad I’m not blonde,” David commented, “We could remake the shower scene from our DVD.”

Pierre laughed. “You could always re-dye your hair?”

“Hmm,” David screwed his face up in thought, “It would be a nice change.”

Moving his head slightly, Pierre just pressed a kiss to David’s arm, making the bassist smile as they entered the bathroom where David’s clothes still littered the floor.

Putting David back on the ground, he wrapped his arms around David’s waist. He pressed a kiss to the back of the other’s neck before saying, “Again. Thank you for the skirt.”

Smiling, David leant back into Pierre and replied, “Anything for my boyfriend.”

He could feel Pierre’s grin pressed into his shoulder, and before he could help it, he said, “Oh, and I do bite.”

Pierre’s responding groan only made him laugh.