So after Halloween Patrick was grounded, which was anticipated. His mom was mostly just really worried that he'd been gone so long, and smelled like alcohol, which is good it means his mom loves him. Being told that he's being dropped off and picked up at school for a month isn't as cool.
Not to mentions midterms were coming up which meant staying after class for homework help and using lunch as an extra study hall. Sure, he saw Pete, flashes of him on his way to his mom's car as she honked loudly, a glance across the hall right before the bell rang, but really that didn't leave much time for talking. He didn't even get to use his cell phone for the first week, and when he got it back he'd not been that surprised to only have about 10 texts, and 7 of them were from a number he didn't know. Pete.
The first couple were from the first of November asking how bad the damage was, then ones asking if he'd freaked Patrick out, then one that was really long and confusing but kind of poetic in a way and finally one saying he wouldn't bother Patrick anymore. Patrick couldn't text fast enough that 'no, it's cool, phone got taken away'. Pete didn't reply that night, or the next day, in fact he didn't see him around school and when he talked to Joe (whom he saw only in Algebra and they were usually on the other side of the room for obvious reasons) he said that Pete hadn't said anything about Halloween other than asking for Patrick's number.
Patrick's life goes on kind of like that, he notices Pete show back up, but the fact that he sees him more and more creeps up on him like the chill of Winter. When he literally bumps into Pete on his way to English, it's kind of starling.
"Sorry, hey..." Pete says, it's quiet and he keeps his eyes averted.
"Uhm, hey dude..." Pete doesn't say anything so Patrick tries to keep the conversation going on his own, "Uhh...so I texted you after I got my phone back..I'm..I'm still grounded for another week or so though..."
"Oh?" Pete pulled his phone out and scrolled calmly through his messages as though phones weren't prohibited and the tardy bell didn't just ring, Patrick felt tense. "Oh...shit..I...I never saw it, I thought you-..." Pete trails off and shrugs.
"Hey so, I'm late to class but uhm...we should hang out again when my mom feels like I've learned my lesson or whatever."
"Yeah?" Pete grins wide and Patrick can't help smiling either as he nods. He sees the door to Mr.Lawrence's class shut and knows he's going to have to be loud and open it and everyone will look at him, but that's okay because Pete kisses him cheek quick and runs off. Patrick stands there stunned for about a minute, he remembered everything that happened, sure, but he hadn't really expected that. He pushed it aside as nothing and pushed open the door to English.
_________
He got a text from Pete on the way home from school asking where he was and his mom asked who it was and if it was the 'Pete' that got him in trouble, which it was and she just sighed. It was weird, Patrick had expected her to take his phone away again or something when instead she just kept driving and Patrick kept texting.
By the time they got home, Patrick was laughing at some bad joke Pete had sent him and his mom was just smiling lightly. Patrick stopped getting replies from Pete around 7pm and figured he should give him a break, he could do his homework but it was Friday and he didn't feel like it. He just ate dinner, talked about school, played video games, called Joe because he was bored out of his mind as usual but then his phone beeped to tell him he had someone else calling and told Joe he'd call back, Joe was not happy about ending their intense debate about Admiral Ackbar's role in Star Wars.
Pete had called, so he called back, it barely rang before Pete picked up, "Hey, so hey Patrick, what are you doing tonight?"
"I'm...playing video games and contemplating doing a book report and it's only Friday night..."
"Dude, it is Friday, fuck book reports...uhm so hey anyway, you wanna come with me and a few friends to this little show? It's a local band, they really suck but the mosh is always on and I mean..I don't know...I miss you."
The last part made Patrick's face heat up a bit, "Uhhh..I would really, really like to....but I'm still grounded."
"Really? I'm so sorry, I thought you were joking or something."
"Nope, a whole month of not doing anything but sitting in my room by myself....or going to the store with my mom..." Patrick replied, tossing a hacky sack ball up in the air repeatedly.
"Oh...can't you just sneak out?" Patrick dropped the hacky sack.
"You're kidding right? I'm grounded and you want me to- Pete I don't know what kind of impression I gave you but uhm..usually staying in my room alone is all I do normally....with the added bonus of Joe every now and then. I don't sneak out and like go to parties and shows or-"
"You went to a party in Chicago with a guy you barely knew and then let him kiss you." Patrick wouldn't mind punching Pete in the fact right now.
"I didn't know the party was in Chicago and...and I was like....drunk so-"
"Excuses, you still agreed to get in a strange boys car, didn't your mother raise you better?"
"She did, that's why I'm not gonna sneak out." He heard Pete huff.
"Okay fine....you don't have to sneak out....but, I know where you live and I am going to park at the stop sign on the corner and wait for 15 minutes around...uhm probably 10-10:30ish...and if you don't show up that's cool but I will be sad and if you do I promise to treat you like a gentleman."
"Uhm...yeah well...don't wait too long." Patrick replied, feeling awkward and weird at turning Pete down and the fact that Pete didn't want to take no for an answer.
"Okay, see you later Patrick." Pete hung up before he could correct him.
_______
At a quarter til ten Patrick told himself that changing his outfit was normal and it didn't mean he was gonna go sneak out or something, he's not stupid. Well, he's 16, he's pretty stupid...16 and half, he's stupid and a half. So when he checks to see that his mom is passed out in the living room watching the Travel Channel and sees that it's already a few minutes after 10 he just walks out of the back door. He just walked out, and he's halfway across the driveway and he can't believe he's doing this, he doesn't even feel dangerous, he just feels like a bad idea.
He stands at the corner and waits, and he waits, and it's cold and his jean jacket isn't helping when the wind blows. He's shivering when he sees the fourth car go by and turns to leave, Pete really didn't wait up for him, figures. Why would he even trust this guy again.
Then a horn honks and Pete's car pulls up next to him on the sidewalk, window rolled down to show a grinning Pete, "Haha, knew you'd come! Now get in it's cold as hell outside."
Patrick knows, he can't feel his feet, or hands, but he says nothing and gets in the car. They drive past Patrick's house and his heart thumps, but the porch light is still off and the glow of the tv is still present in the living room so he tries to stay calm.
Patrick thinks he does a good job of staying calm as they get to the venue and Pete introduces Patrick to a few people he'd never met and a couple he'd seen at the Halloween party who give him a knowing smirk and Patrick would do without that really. He'd only been to a couple of other shows with Joe, and if he thinks hard enough maybe he can see Pete at one of them. The band does suck, and Patrick tries to stay with the crown until his hat gets knocked off for the third time and he gets kneed somewhere he'd rather not talk about. After that he goes off to the back of the room and stays there. Pete finds him an hour or so of blaringly loud noise later, he's sweaty and his eyes are wide and he's smiling and he tells Patrick that their set is over.
Patrick was kind of happy, until Pete insisted on staying a little while longer to talk to the band, Patrick had to bite his tongue when Pete told them the set was awesome. The ride back to Patrick's house is full of musical debate and Patrick complaining about his hearing loss because the guitarists decided the amp needed to be on 10 at all times. Pete mostly laughed and smiled, it was nice and a distraction from the way Patrick's stomach was starting to knot up at the realization that he might get caught coming home.
Pete stopped two houses down from Patrick's, killing the engine and turning towards Patrick, still smiling. "So uhm....I had fun tonight."
"Yeah, me too." Patrick replied, lying blatantly but it was kind of nice being sort of around Pete.
"Oh...good, great really uhm...I mean, I haven't really been on a date in awhile, mostly just hook ups or whatever so-"
"Date!?" Patrick asked, sure he had missed out on something here. Pete ducked his head down, smiling fading.
"Oh I...well yeah I thought..never mind, not a date right?" His smile had returned and he was glancing up at Patrick, the smile was really forced and it made Patrick feel stupid.
"I just didn't think...like I just assumed we were just hanging out."
"Oh right, yeah..."
"No, but hey I mean....it was a nice date too." Pete quirked an eyebrow at him, and Patrick couldn't help the shy smile it made him produce. Pete was nice, and nice looking for the most part, Patrick just had no idea he'd want to date Patrick. It seemed kind of ridiculous, but he was starting to realize that Pete was kind of ridiculous himself.
"Okay awesome, cool so uhh..." Pete paused glances at the keys hanging from the ignition, " It'd be cool if I kissed you goodnight?"
Patrick's face heated up again, and he nodded when Pete glanced up at him. The kiss was slower and more gentle than he'd remembered, Pete didn't let it last too long or get too deep, but it was nice. Patrick really hadn't kissed that many people, and he'd put Pete at the top of the list honestly.
They said goodnight and Pete made a u-turn and went the other way as Patrick walked to his house, he'd left the back door unlocked and he was careful and quiet opening it. The house was dark, the tv off, his mom gone and his heart pounded in his ears as he crept back to his room. He didn't get accosted by his mom so he figured that was as good a sign as any as he got undressed for bed, his cell phone buzzing right before he fell asleep as Pete texted to say he got home safe and that they should go out again sometime. There was also a winky face, Patrick tried not to smile too much and just tried to let it settle part of his worried mind so he could sleep.
_______
When Patrick woke up and finally got up to get breakfast, he saw his mom drinking coffee at the kitchen table, staring at him as he made cereal and sat down to eat it, her eyes didn't leave him and it was kind of creepy.
"So...Christmas is coming up, thought of anything you want?"
"Mom, it's like...almost a month away."
"It is almost a month away isn't it?"
"Uhm....yeah?" Patrick replied, trying to make his brain work in a coherent manor as he swallowed a mouthful of fruity pebbles.
"You know what else is about a month away?" She asked, Patrick 'hmm'd at her in question, "The next time you won't be grounded."
"What?" Patrick asked around a mouthful of cereal, his mom's gaze narrowed.
"You left the house last night, didn't bother to tell me, I can only assume whom you were with, it was way past your curfew and you were stilled grounded for a week. Now? You're grounded until Christmas Eve."
"What? Mom that's-"
"No arguing, I don't know what's gotten into you Patrick, but that's unacceptable. Do you know how scared I was when you weren't in your room? I didn't fall asleep until I'd heard you come home at 12am, I shouldn't have let you go to that party and I shouldn't have given you that phone back, which I want back from you as soon as you're done eating."
Patrick was so, so fucked.
He ran upstairs, stomped a little, knew it wasn't going to get him anywhere but he did anyway\/ He grabbed his phone and paused for a second to text Joe and Pete that his phone was being taken away again before his mom came into his room and just kind of took it from him, stopping as an afterthought to unplug his PlayStation which was really not okay. She glanced at his CD player but the sad look in his eyes kept her from taking that too.
_________
Pete was busy with soccer or so he heard from Joe, he didn't say much about why he was grounded and Joe didn't ask. His mom didn't really ask much else either, but he wasn't allowed to go to the store alone anymore and he had to be in bed by 9pm even on weekends (which was crazy). Patrick assumed this is what boot camp felt like, he felt like he'd heard Pete mention going to boot camp before. Patrick couldn't stop thinking about Pete.
Not because Pete kissed him or anything or because apparently they were dating, no, none of that. It was just that Pete was really interesting and funny and kind of really out of his league. Patrick spent quite a few nights of laying awake in bed wondering if Pete was doing this on a dare or a bet and that would hurt, and he considered asking Joe if he'd heard anything about a bet to date some dorky kid for some reason, but then he'd have to explain himself and Pete. Which would make things awkward for everyone. Patrick didn't like being alone with his thoughts.
The week of Christmas, Patrick's mom decided to unground him early so he can help with Christmas shopping. It was cold out, and the ice had come but the snow was taking it's time, if it was coming at all. He spent all day begging his mom not to get him and her matching sweaters, it didn't really work. They had reindeer on them, and they jingled, and they were apparently going to wear them at the Christmas party his mom was planning because some kid's mom had one last year and people were still talking about it and Patrick really wished he was still grounded.
He got his phone back through when she suggested he call and ask Joe and his family to come if they wanted, but he got a little sidetracked with the hundred or so messages Pete had sent (sorry, i'm so sorry, don't hate me, i wanna see you again, i miss you ;(, srry ive been so busy, do you like apple or cherry pie more?) and so on.
"You wanna invite Pete?" Patrick jumped, looking up to see his mom standing behind him, a weary smile on her face.
"I..uh...no, I mean-"
"You're inviting him, and I want to meet his parents." She walked off without further ado, carrying a box of ornaments and Patrick assumed that he just might as well invite Pete...and his parents. How bad could this go?
________
Bad, very bad, Patrick keeps forgetting that like John Hughes movies there is conflict, but unlike the movies there is no resolution just more awkward and uncomfortable conflict. Uncomfortable because Pete's parents were really nice and his mom liked how Patrick and his mom's sweaters matched and complained that Pete wouldn't ever wear his matching one if she got it. Pete snickered quietly, and Patrick blushed and he laughed harder when he blushed. Patrick's mom walked off with Pete's talking about Pete and Patrick and if that wasn't awkward enough Joe ran over and bumped into Pete's dad (spilling egg nog) and when Patrick went to clean it...he jingled.
When the mess was clean and Joe caught the eye of Patrick's cousin Marissa, he snuck off to his room to see if he could just change his sweater, because no one would notice, right? Only, in his room, he found a Pete, who turned around when he heard Patrick jingle. Patrick stood in the doorway, a confused look on his face as Pete quickly set a stack of Patrick's CDs back down and almost made them fall over onto his guitar and Patrick doesn't want to think about that. Pete walked forward smiling and poked Patrick in his stomach.
"Ow...I don't jingle if you poke me, I'm not the Pillsbury Dough Boy."
"Laugh."
"What?"
"He laughed when you poked him, sorry I just..uhm..." Pete looked sideways, glancing at a stack of old school folders.
"Oh...okay." Patrick was confused, he was used to himself being awkward, but Pete being awkward was a totally different thing here. "You okay?"
Pete glanced back at him and nodded, walking back into the room and siting on the edge of Patrick's bed, patting the space of comforter next to him. "C'mere."
Pete's confidence seemed to have returned but oh, yes there is, Patrick's worry and self-consciousness, back to normal.
Patrick shut the door and went to sit next to Pete, not remembering his bed being so uncomfortable. "So hey...Merry Christmas Eve Eve."
"Uh, same to you." Patrick returned about one fourth of Pete's smile.
"So uh...You met the folks, I met yours." Patrick nods, wanting Pete to continue, "So uh...I was just like...this is gonna sound stupid but...uhm..."
Patrick didn't like Pete being tongue tied and nervous, it really didn't suit him. "I'm sure it won't sound stupid?"
Pete let out a breath before continuing, "Okay so...I know we've only known each other..well like two months, but you've been grounded and that's my fault and really I don't blame you if you say no just for that reason, but I really like you and you have all the CDs I own or wish I did and I bet you play guitar better than I do because I kind of suck and your mom is really nice and her pumpkin squares me want to forget about the diet the coach puts us on but yeah so uhm...Do you wanna like..Do you wanna go steady?"
"I uh...go steady?" Patrick was slightly confused and taken aback as his brain processed Pete's quick speech.
"Like, my boyfriend, want to be..do you? Oh god, I sound like Yoda, do you want to be my boyfriend? There, yeah that." Pete waited with what appeared to be baited breath as Patrick caught up to speed.
"Is this a bet?" Pete's face fell.
"Is what a bet Patrick?"
"This, you and me...I mean...stuff like this doesn't happen to me, and like, I'm pretty sure you could do a lot better." Patrick wasn't lying, he's sure Pete could get someone taller and thinner, maybe someone who was his age and went out partying every night like him or whatever.
"I'm pretty sure you're the coolest person I've ever met though." Pete's words were quiet and he wasn't looking at Patrick anymore.
"I'm so sorry." Patrick replied, the thought of being the coolest person Pete knew seemed silly, considering he'd met Gabe and Andy and they both seemed pretty amazing.
"What? No, like.....I've had a lot of girlfriends and I've never had a boyfriend because guys are assholes and the girls were all bitches, but that's because they were all the same person right? Defying their parents, getting drunk before 5pm, having sex in the back of my car- point is, you're like...you're really cool without being fucked up? I like that."
"Oh." And really Patrick had no idea what to say, his brain was busy going over 'sex in the back of Pete's car'.
"Yeah and, I don't really know what to get people for presents, so like..I wanted to give you me for Christmas if that made sense?"
"Oh...uhm...if I say yes do I still have to give you your present?"
Pete's grin returned with the connotations Patrick was implying, choosing to ask about the gift instead, "You got me a present?"
"Uhm..sort of."
"What is it?"
"Oh..it's just some CDs from this one band I think you'd like but-"
"That's awesome, I love it."
"Uhm, you don't have it yet?"
"You don't have your present yet either."
"Oh....uhm...right...so I don't know how relationships work?"
"Me either." Pete replied with a shrug, but he scooted closer to Patrick, shifting the bed and making Patrick jingle again. Right before he leaned in he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of plastic mistle toe, holding it up and making a kissy face and Patrick kind of took a second before he realized he was supposed to kiss him.
It was more like the first time he'd kissed Pete, only without the fake fangs and Patrick wouldn't admit missing those. He felt Pete's hand slide into his hair, knocking his hat off but Patrick didn't mind. He was also glad that Pete didn't mind when Patrick let a wandering hand rest on Pete's leg, Patrick felt a bit giddy realizing he was making out, with his boyfriend. Which whoa hey, that was a weird combination of words to think for him, but it was pretty fuckin' awesome and he wanted to tell Joe that he made out with someone, only having Joe walk into his room in he middle of it was NOT his preferred method of breaking the news.
"WHOA OH MY GOD DUDE WHAT." Patrick pulled away and blushed so hard he felt a little light headed, or maybe that was the kissing.
"Uhm I-"
"Joe-Troh! Hey dude."
"PETE HEY BUT WHOA WHAT." Joe was really loud, louder than usual, that was really loud. That was turning it up to 11. That was a sonic boom. That was the decibel amount needed for his mom and Pete's mom to come running (he presumed) down the hall, pushing Joe aside to see what was going on. Pete's mom sighed with a look like she'd caught Pete in other boys rooms before, like this was normal and not weird or anything to yell about and Patrick wanted to huge Pete's mom and ask to be adopted but that would make being Pete's boyfriend weird.
Patrick's mom on the other hand looked like she was missing a few pieces of the puzzle, glancing between them and then back to Joe. Joe was still standing and staring at them in a bit of awe and bewilderment, it was kind of an okay look for him. Pete doesn't help by casually removing Patrick's hand from his thigh and curling their fingers together.
Joe inches his way out of the room and Pete's mom lets out a light laugh, it kind of sounds like Pete's laugh, which in turn makes Patrick's mom burst into a nervous fit of giggles. It's a chain reaction really, because that makes Pete laugh and Pete's laugh makes Patrick laugh. It takes a minute for it to die down and when it does Patrick's mom plucks the fake mistletoe out of his hair and offers it back to Pete before telling them they need to come mingle more (meaning Stephanie Grayson's mom showed up or whatever).
Pete doesn't stop holding his hand.
________
Pete kisses him goodnight, in front of pretty much everyone, and most people try to look away or just don't notice. Pete's dad shakes his hand and Pete's mom hugs him and insists he call her mom or Dale just anything but Mrs. Wentz.
"So.....a senior huh?"
"I guess so?" Patrick shrugs and carries the half empty plates of snacks back to the kitchen. His mom followers with stray mugs of half sipped hot coco or egg nog.
"His mom says he talks about you a lot." Patrick ducked his head over the sink, blushing. "He's not a good influence."
"Mom." Patrick says desperately, whether to defend Pete or to make her stop talking about him he's not sure.
"Okay..okay...well...front what I've seen and heard....I like him...but if he pressure you into anything-"
"MOM!"
"What? OH, oh no, I mean like sneaking out again. Not...Not that...he doesn't pressure you for that does he?"
"NO! Oh my god."
"Good okay, but if you tow were, you'd know to be safe-"
"Yes mom, okay I'm going to my room now." Patrick scurried off, jingling all the way before his mom could say anything else.
_______
Pete calls him at 6am on Christmas, Pete's already awake and opening presents and he insists that he pick Patrick up later and that they go do something, but then he remembers that everything's closed and just says he should pick Patrick up later anyway. Patrick's still on the phone as he shuffles to the living room where his mom is drinking her first cup of coffee and she gestures to the little pile of presents under the tree, he opens them while talking to Pete. His grandma had sent handmade mittens, pink ones, his grandma never caught on that Patrick was her grandSON<\/i>. He gets a weird movie and a CD from Joe (a band that Patrick's pretty sure Joe only likes because he played guitar on half a track). Then he gets to the big present from his mom, Pete's still talking about gingerbread cookies and how his brother already broke something he got, Patrick almost drops the phone when he see the Mac Book sitting half unwrapped on the couch.
Later that day, Pete comes by and he ends up staying on Patrick's couch eating leftover pumpkin squares and talking to Patrick about the CDs he got from him, sneaking kisses when Patrick's mom walks out of the room.
"So Gabe's throwing this New Years party, and it's gonna be even better than the Halloween one-"
"Why didn't he have one for Christmas?"
"Oh, Jewish, y'know." Patrick just nods along with Pete, "So yeah, we're going if that's cool?"
"Oh uhm..." Patrick glances at his mom, who was obviously listening in on them from the kitchen doorway. She sighs and shrugs.
"I guess...I just don't like you staying out so late, who's Gabe?"
Pete just grins and charms her pants off (not literally), but it convinces her to let him go. He's pretty excited.
_______
The days stretch on and Patrick's mom opens a bottle of sparkling grape juice the night before New Years Eve and they have a fake little countdown and party, eat some black eyed peas and sing Auld Lang Syne. It makes him feel less guilty for not being around the next evening.
_______
Pete picks him up at 9:30 sharp, he stays for a minute or two, wishing Patrick's mom a happy new year and offering her the sparkly gold top hat he's wearing and when she decline he puts it on Patrick and blows a noise maker as they walk back to Pete's car.
Patrick doesn't say anything as they get on the highway, Patrick's mom forgot to ask where the party was and they end up back at the same apartment complex that Patrick had been to with Pete before. The difference was; most of Patrick's awkwardness ebbed away when Pete's hand clasped around his own and Pete pulled him around introducing him as, 'This is my Patrick'.
Pete, after much nagging, finally let go of Patrick and stopped making him blush in front of strangers, to go off and find Gabe. Patrick was cool with that, he talked to someone who was pretty alright, they liked most of the local bands and even drummed in a few of them which was great, Patrick plays drums, he knows how to speak drummer. Patrick however, is bad at keeping track of time and before he knows it, it's one minute until midnight. He says goodbye to the drummer, Andy, and goes to find Pete, wading through people and party hats (his own shiny gold one almost falling off in the process). He can't find Pete until someone points him towards the balcony. It's a small concrete pad, somehow being supported, it didn't look very safe but Pete was there talking to someone until Patrick stepped out on it.
"Oh hey, Chris, this is my Patrick." The other guy glanced at Patrick and took him in, an heir of judgment thick in the air, the countdown inside begins. Chris starts to leave, shoving Patrick aside slightly before looking back at Pete who shoos him, and he finally leaves, taking the awkward silence with him. Pete just smiles and shrugs in reply to Chris, pulling Patrick close. 5<\/i>. brushing a piece of his hair aside. 4<\/i>. Patrick heart thuds harder. 3<\/i>. Pete's eyes slip shut, so Patrick lets his close too. 2<\/i>. Pete leans closer, forehead against Patrick's, noses brushing. 1<\/i>. "Happy New Year." Pete whispers, just before pressing his lips against Patrick's. The fireworks boom and burst downtown, and if their eyes were open they'd have a perfect view, but they kind of aren't and so they just keep kissing.
The kiss lasts well into the new year, from the balcony, through the guests, Pete kind of nodding an early goodbye to the people he can in the few spare breathes Patrick allows. They kiss as Pete blindly fumbles to unlock the car door, breaking away for a solid 5 seconds until he can slide into the backseat and Patrick can climb into his lap. At some point Patrick's party hat fell off, at some point Pete's noise maker got crushed, at some point the door closed and the windows fogged over. Patrick kept thinking that he was probably doing everything wrong, but Pete didn't tell him to stop biting his neck or not to kiss there or touch there, he just kept making breathy noises and once he kind of squeaked when Patrick shifted in his lap. After about ten minutes of solid making out (and convincing Pete to give him a hickey), Patrick was kind of dying with the way his zipper was pressing against him, so he instinctively reached for it and Pete's hand stopped him, and then Patrick's awkward self-consciousness kicked in. So he pulled away fast and hit his head on the car ceiling light, and Pete winced in sympathy.
"Shit, you okay?" He was just as breathless as Patrick.
Patrick gritted out a, "Fine." as the pain eased away. Pete smoothed his thumb over Patrick's pulse, and oh yeah, Patrick was trying to get his pants off and then Pete stopped him. "Oh, and..I-sorry, I don't know how this works?"
Pete just kind of smirked at him in the half light, "Well when two dudes like each other very much-" Pete shut up when Patrick smacked his shoulder.
"I meant like...you stopped..me.." Pete glanced away from Patrick's gaze and nodded, "Why?"
Pete sighed, "I stopped you because I do this with everyone okay? I make them love me, and then I fuck it up and fuck them and then they realize they don't like me all that much and then they regret it, or worse I realize I didn't like them and then I regret it but I try and stay friends with them and well...it's not that way with you, it only happened that way once, with uhm..with Chris but-"
"Pete okay, hey I....uhh.." Patrick actually wasn't sure what he meant to say, he wanted Pete to shut up. He stayed quiet for about 30 more seconds, Patrick watched the windows defrost as the temperature cooled a bit.
"Not that I don't want to do things with you, pantsless things, but I just...we should wait?"
Patrick whined quietly, the situation wasn't as urgent as before, but still, "Like..how long?"
"Well..uhm..I don't know, until it feel right?"
"It feels just fine right now, I mean..I've waited plenty of years Pete." Pete laughed lightly at the tone in Patrick's voice, Patrick wasn't amused.
"I think we both need to learn how to take it slow." Patrick huffed and slumped forward, head on Pete's shoulder as he mumbled a dejected, 'Fine."
Pete just turned his head and kissed the side of Patrick's, a hand smoothing over Patrick's back, "I should get you home. "
They managed to get into the front of the car with little damage to each other or the car, the radio is playing ABBA and Patrick fights the urge to sing along until Pete sings and it's terrible so Patrick has to at least drown him out. It's almost 1am by the time they get back, and Pete walks Patrick to the door, Patrick feels like he should invite him in for coffee like he's seen on tv and the movies, but that would be ridiculous under the circumstances and for the fact that he thinks they're out of coffee. Instead he let's Pete kiss him goodnight, Patrick thinks maybe he can invite him in for tea or something instead of coffee, but he pulls away and smiles and waits until he hears the lock click after Patrick gets inside.
Patrick's mom is asleep on the couch and he wakes up her up and says 'happy new year' and watches her stumble off, still half asleep to bed. When he finally gets tucked into his own, his phone buzzes and he looks to see that Pete's sent him, 'hppy new year :*<\/i>'. Patrick replies, 'so how long do i have 2 wait again?<\/i>', Pete half jokingly sends, 'I', Patrick hates to think he'd have to wait in the first place but he doesn't push it and just replies, 'romantic, gnight<\/i>'. Pete replies with a simple, 'xo<\/i>' and Patrick falls asleep with fireworks behind his eyelids.
<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:24849","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/24849.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=24849"}}],"title":"How To Kiss A Patrick In 10 Days (Or Something Like It)","published":"2011-12-01T03:48:39Z","updated":"2011-12-01T10:01:14Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"love"}}],"content":"Title: How To Kiss A Patrick In 10 Days (Or Something Like It)
Pairing: Peterick
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Pete decides that it is very important to his life that he kisses Patrick.
Day 1<\/b>
Pete walks out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed, flossed and mouth washed. The breath of an angel, mouth probably sweet and minty, perfect for kissing. He walks over to where Patrick's sitting on one of the two identical beds in their hotel room, eyes glued to his laptop, but Pete doesn't care, this time...this time he's got this. He slinks over, crawling onto the bed and curling himself close to Patrick, waiting for him to respond.
When he doesn't and Pete gets a little distracted by the waves of music bouncing on the screen before they pause and get edited, Pete realizes he has to make himself more known. Which he does by laying his head in Patrick's lap, on top of the keyboard of course, causing the music to close on the screen and Patrick's slightly upside down face to look like it's going to kill Pete. Not good.
"Sorry..." Pete mumbles fully apologetically, with just an edge of being flirty, he thinks this is going well. Patrick sighs and moves the laptop out from under Pete, setting it to the side before continuing repairing anything Pete messed up. Pete sighs and pouts, loudly, pulling a stray thread on Patrick's sweats until Patrick bats his hand away, and then. Oh...and then Patrick's attention is on him, the laptop saying Shutting Down, and Patrick's paying attention to Pete.
Pete sits up quickly, almost making Patrick jump before he scoots closer and leans in, and Patrick does jump a bit. Scooting away from with with an eyebrow raised. Pete just smiles lightly and leans back in, his perfectly minty clean breath ghosting over Patrick's lips before he is rudely shoved away as Patrick slides off of the bed to put his laptop up. Pete's thinking of a plan B.
His theory was, Patrick wouldn't kiss him because he only tried to do it when he'd just eaten a bag of flaming hot Cheetos, when he'd drank his own piss, the time he licked Dirty's foot for 20 bucks, point is...dirty mouths don't get kisses, especially not from other worldly creatures like the Patrick. So Pete's idea wasn't really correct, but the theory was still a good one, perhaps Patrick hadn't brushed his teeth yet and was insecure about this. Pete sprung into action, digging through Patrick's bag until he found his tooth brush and ran into the bathroom and used the mini-toothpaste that Pete had earlier, running a bit of water over the combination before going and finding Patrick looking at his bag and the contents of it that have been spread throughout the floor and then back up to Pete.
Pete who walks forward valiantly, extending Patrick's toothbrush to him, ready to go, and Patrick. Patrick takes it, and puts in inside his mouth and...punches Pete's arm really hard, and Pete doesn't cry because he's a big boy, and Patrick walks off to the bathroom brushing his teeth as planned. Then he slams the door, and stays in there awhile, and probably showers. SHOWERING<\/i>, Pete thinks, how did he not think of showering? He smells like shit.
Pete tries to remember adding that to the list for next time. There will be a next time, so help him he won't stop until he gets to kiss Patrick. It's really that important to do.
Day 2<\/b>
Early morning interview, coffee, more coffee, snuggles on the van ride to the radio station. Pete's a little behind schedule. The interview goes great, he talks about how amazing Patrick is and it makes him blush and Joe cuts him off to talk about guitars or something, which is uncool, so what if they asked him a question he wasn't finished. See, Pete showered that morning (standing in hot water until Patrick yells at you is considered showing) and brushed his teeth, and he knows Patrick showered and brushed his teeth recently, so now he was adding onto the list of things so he could ensure the perfect kiss. The new item was 'flatter Patrick'.
Again, going well mostly. Pete gets another, 'I don't know what I'd have done without him, probably be dead in a ditch somewhere...he's like my savior' in before they have to go play an acoustic set across town. On the ride there Pete's coffee induced brain tells him to continue his flattering. "Patrick..."
"Hmm?" Patrick's sitting behind him so he has to twist in his seat and that's cool because it's not like he's wearing a seatbelt anyway.
"Patrick, have I told you lately how your eyes shine with the light reflected off of your glasses?"
"Wha- Pete that doesn-"
"And how heavenly your voice sounds, even early in the morning when you kind of sound like Optimus Prime, it's kinda sexy."
"I'm gonna....talk to Charlie now."
"But Patrick, I didn't get to the part where I tell you that your hair looks like kittens playing in the su-" And Pete doesn't get to tell Patrick because the driver hits a bump or a grate or a squirrel or some shit and Pete falls backwards and sideways and ends up licking Dirty's foot again.
The rest of the day is hectic and busy and Patrick manages to be off doing something else when Pete isn't and vice versa. And he doesn't play well on purpose, but Patrick doesn't even call him out on it like he usually does. Andy does though and it kind of makes him even more sad but whatever. Fuck Andy. He's a drummer, what does he know?
And fuck him twice for calling dibs on rooming with Patrick. It's not fair, it is a total dent in the plan. It's not like Pete's gonna give up though, there's always tomorrow.
Day 3<\/b>
Pete manages to sweet talk (50 bucks and an autograph) the girl at the desk into giving him a spare key card to Patrick's room. He bathed, he brushed his teeth and he had Patrick's favorite coffee (the perfect temperature too) and a donut and he planned on the whole flattering thing no matter how scary early morning Patrick looks.
He walks in, balancing the coffee and the donut carefully, and shuts the door quietly because Andy is a bitch in the morning. He looks and sees Patrick's glasses on the bedside table and tiptoes over, setting the coffee and donut down, settling softly onto the bed behind the sleeping Patrick. He sees a tuft of hair sticking out from under the blanket bundle and smiles a bit, leaning over, painfully restraining himself from kissing his neck before Patrick wakes up, and whispers, "Good morning my love.", before the mandatory snuggle against his neck.
"Pete?" And Pete freezes a bit, because...."Pete what the fuck are you doing?"
"Andy?"
"Yup."
"Uhhh..." Pete doesn't move from where he's basically spooning Andy.
"That coffee better be for fucking waking me up, and it better fucking be soy." Pete mentally groans and hears Patrick shuffling awake and padding towards the bathroom, the light flicking on, oblivious to the rest of the world.
"You can have the donut too if you want."
"Just fucking get out of here before I kill you."
"Yep." And Pete jumps up and practically runs out of the room.
____
Patrick walks out of the bathroom a few seconds later and glances at Andy who's sitting up and sniffing tentatively at the coffee Pete had left. "Where'd you get that?"
Andy shrugs, "You can have it, I don't like caramel."
"Ooh, my favorite." Patrick smiles and steals the cup before Andy can change his mind.
_____
Pete stands outside in the hall repeatedly banging his head against a framed painting of a lake because it hurt less than the wall next to it.
"Pete...." Pete turns around to see Charlie standing there looking confusedly at his watch, "It's not even 9am yet, you know that right?"
"Uhhuh..."
"You already woke Patrick and Andy?"
"Uhhuh." Charlie looks a bit astonished.
"And he's still alive.... Go ahead and tell them that we actually have to get to the venue early to talk about stage arrangement, okay?"
"Uhhuh." Charlie nods and walks off, and Pete's head hurts and he goes to look for Aspirin.
______
They're late, by like a lot, everyone blames Pete but it's not his fault. It's like one fourteenth his fault because Andy and Patrick were the only people who weren't on the same page, and that barely counts. Joe argues that it's one half of the goddamn band and counts quite a lot, Pete wants Joe to go fall on his head. Joe actually does later when he walks off of the stage backwards and Pete feels bad, but at least he has extra Aspirin on him.
Patrick ducks around him shly almost, and it's confusing and Pete forgot to flatter Patrick earlier. Which doesn't help explain Patrick's slight shyness, and then when Pete tries to go and tell Patrick 'that his blue Lego shirt makes him look super hot' Patrick looks at him and walks the other direction, quickly. Pete thinks maybe it wasn't shyness after all, but avoiding Pete isn't something Patrick would do, because that's mean.
______
After a few hours (of whining) at the venue they all get 'two hours and 45 minutes of free time, 'Go crazy, but don't really Pete I swear to god, don't forget we got a tech who can play your parts'. Pete corners Patrick and asks him out to lunch, which Patrick accepts because they were all actually going out to lunch, but Patrick said yes to Pete special so it's like a date.
Pete tries to hold his hand at the booth and Patrick lets him until their food gets there. Pete keeps trying to feed Patrick and after a few awkward french fries up noses Patrick gives in, sort of. Pete considers this a breakthrough.
______
At sound check Pete let's Brian tune for him, and it gives Pete a chance to stand offstage in front of Patrick and smile and cheer at him, which gets him flipped off twice and once he gets a smile but that might have been the weird way Patrick holds his mouth when he sings, but it doesn't matter, he got smiled at. Of course Dirty had to pick today to find a mini-motorcycle backstage and Pete had to make a split decision to watch Dirty ride down the sidewalk on it and miss Patrick doing whatever else he does really...
______
He has to actually warm up in the hour before they go on because he owes it to the fans not to let kissing Patrick get in the way of his awesome bass playing, when hey....Why should it get in the way? Why can't they go hand in hand?
After Pete's usual banter, with added Patrick love, he attempts to just...y'know to run across the stage and kiss Patrick while still playing. He got pretty close too, during their cover of Mr.Brightside. So, so close and Patrick flinched away and Pete tried to smile it off, whatever.
Later Patrick asked him why the hell he tried to kiss him on stage in front of like at least a thousand camera phones. Pete shrugged and ran off to shower because he smelled weird, and he was slipping on his list of things needed for Patrick kisses. It was like juggling, and Pete doesn't like juggling, or clowns but that's not the point.
Pete had learned something though, Patrick doesn't like PDA, which Pete can live with. So he has to be clean, Patrick has to be clean, he has to flatter Patrick until hand holding and blushing occur and then it also has to be in a private area. Which wouldn't be a problem if they weren't back on the buses, but they were.
Pete thought that the universe was being totally lame and needed to stop for a minute so he could kiss his Patrick.
Day 4<\/b>
They're in a town with a name Pete can't pronounce, or he can pronounce it but he doesn't want to because they spelled it wrong. Whatever, the point is, he's part of an enlightening conversation with Korean Tom Cruise and Patrick about something that sounds important, but he's mostly just nodding and agreeing with Patrick. Actually, he's just waiting for KTC to go away so he can show Patrick the storage room that has a couch in it (the universe is obviously starting to pay attention), but then Patrick walks away with him and Pete is standing there confused and ignored and it's really uncool.
He finds Patrick walking down one of the corridors a few minutes later when Pete's decided to just check out the rest of the venue, and the best part is; Patrick is alone. Pete smirks and approaches him, blocking his path, "Hey there."
"Hello Pete, I need to go that way now." Patrick points past Pete, but he doesn't budge. Pete's trying to figure out how to get Patrick to go find that room with the couch when Patrick somehow steps around him and keeps going, it's shocking really. Pete runs after him and stops him again, lightly pulling his arm. Patrick huffs and turns around, face to face with Pete, and Pete can't stop smiling.
"Hey there." Pete repeats, Patrick looks a little wary. Pete scuffles a bit closer and wraps his arms around Patrick's neck and not in a 'I'm hugging you' way but in a 'I'm totally going to kiss you' way. Then Patrick starts leaning in too, his arms sliding around Pete's waist, and....and he hugs him. Head on his shoulder, holding him close, and not to say Pete isn't completely awesome with the hug (it's a hug from Patrick, it's the best kind), but it wasn't the expected result. Pete has to do something about that quick.
"Patrick I wanna show you the couch room." Pete whispers, he doesn't know why he whispers it, and the creepy factor goes up as Patrick pulls away with an odd look.
"Pete, are you alright?"
"Yes, very okay." Pete replies quickly, nodding. Patrick doesn't look convinced.
"I'm gonna-"
"No!" Pete grabs Patrick's arm again and tries to pull him down the hall, but Patrick doesn't budge.
"Pete, really are you okay?" Pete groans at the sincerity in Patrick's voice.
"I'll be fine if you just come to the couch room." Patrick just stares at him as Pete tries to pull him again, he gets Patrick to take a step before he pulls his arm away.
"Pete-"
"Dammit just come with me!" Pete yells frustratedly, it really shouldn't be this damn hard to convince Patrick. Patrick who is standing there and just staring at him, looking a bit shocked. Someone pokes their head out of the dressing room door, looking around to see them standing there and they say, "You guys, 45 minutes 'til you're on."
"I have to go warm up, shit." Patrick walks off into the room looking flustered. Pete sinks to the floor and pouts as the door shuts and echoes in the hall. The show goes about the same way.
Day 5<\/b>
Pete woke up late, and the coffee tasted burnt, and Joe ate the rest of his Reese's Puffs and he was just about ready to cry when his straightener either was broken or the wall socket was and on top of it all they had two interviews before their scheduled show. Pete was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, and everyone knew it. He didn't even say anything or pout that much, that's how bad it was, everyone just innately knew.
Patrick was really shifty around him too, like he expected Pete to manhandle and yell at him again which in hindsight wasn't the best way to get kisses either.
The rest of the day went accordingly: interview where Pete says 'fuck' live on air and the station almost kills him because apparently they're a clean station, the next interview Pete ends up telling a tour story and everything is going well until he realizes he just said that Joe smoked weed on air (and everyone already knows) and they laugh it off but Joe looks like he's gonna kill Pete a lot too. Pete breaks two strings onstage during sound check alone and the second one snaps and hits his cheek and it's not okay because he's bleeding and he tears up a bit.
But that's when Patrick comes to the rescue with a SpongeBob Band-Aid, putting it on for Pete and he looks like he's about to kiss Pete's cheek but stops, and it makes Pete's pout return. Which Patrick huffs at as he pulls Pete over to look at the new guitar strap he got, and Pete looks around for a second and even though they're on a stage, the audience is empty and the crew is on break.
"Hey Patrick?" Pete asks as he hops up to sit on an amp.
"Hmm?" Patrick looks over to Pete like he was distracted, he sits next to Pete on the low amp and Pete automatically scoots closer.
"Sorry, about yesterday."
"It's cool dude, have you been doing okay though? I mean..today seems like-"
"Yeah, no good, very bad day..." Pete sighs and looks at his shoes and kicks his feet, he almost doesn't notice Patrick scoot closer, or how Patrick's arm slides over his shoulder. He definitely notices the quick peck on his cheek, right on the Band-Aid depicting a fun day jellyfishing. Pete turns his head quickly, but not fast enough to catch Patrick's lips. Which is alright because Pete didn't brush his teeth that day anyway. Patrick just smiles a bit shly and pulls away, hopping up and saying, "Race you back to the dressing room, Joe told me earlier that we got fruit roll ups."
"No way!" Pete loves fruit roll ups. Patrick was jogging across the stage before Pete had even stood up, and well... Pete tripped on the way there, twice, but Patrick let him win AND eat the last fruit roll up.
The show that night was awesome and Patrick actually came over to lay his<\/i> head on Pete's<\/i> shoulder and Pete couldn't stop grinning. After the show Pete got to give him a sweaty hug but he was so exhausted that by the time he got back to his bus he actually fell asleep in the back lounge watching The O.C.
Day 6<\/b>
Today, Pete finds out some very interesting things about Patrick in relation to kissing. They're at this 50s themed diner for lunch because someone suggested it to them and Pete's sitting there, telling an enthralling story about the time his brother broke his arm to get out of gym class, but the test was running so he was fucked both ways; when he saw Patrick casually put the stem to the cherry from his shake into his mouth. Pete's word stutter, watching Patrick from the corner of his eye and then out pops a fucking tied cherry stem that Patrick just sets on his napkin and goes back to drinking his shake. Pete didn't realize he'd stopped talking, he forgot what it was about anyway.
Pete doesn't say anything as he quietly slips away to the counter and asks for a cherry, getting one 'of course<\/i>', from the cute girl working there, he gnaws the cherry off. quickly swallowing it before putting the stem in his mouth. He feels stupid, he's Pete Wentz, he should be able to do this. The stem he spits out is slightly bent and mostly just gnawed on, Pete huffs and goes to ask the girl for another when Patrick shows up and scares him. He only really jumps a little though, and knocks over the tip jar on the counter and makes the girl scream too. Pete apologizes quickly as well as Patrick.
Patrick, who notices belatedly that Pete was trying to tie a cherry stem in a knot and obviously failed. He smirks and says, "We gotta go in like 5 minutes." and then walks away.
Pete isn't sure if he hates his tongue or cherries more.
_____
Right before the show that night (but after Pete asking Andy if you can exercise your tongue and getting a weird look and a 'Google it?'), Pete overhears Patrick talking about his first kiss. He hears about how his real first kiss was with with a friend's older sister and that he totally sucked at it of course, Pete bets it was better than he thinks. Everyone laughs and goes about telling their stories and Pete wanders off, fingering the notes on his bass and pretending he's not jealous of Stacy or Sarah or Samantha or whatever Patrick said her name was. Pete needs to step up is his game.
Well after the party that night, because Pete deserves a party and then he'll step up his game.
Day 7<\/b>
Pete wakes up on the wrong bus, upside down, and with half a Twizzler in his pocket (which is cool because he is starving). The only other food he can find includes granola mix and vegan poptarts which keys him off to being in the wrong area of buses. The second thing that tips him off is a bleary eyed Patrick stumbling into the kitchenette, rubbing his eyes. It's kind of adorable, and Pete wants to kiss him and.... oh wait, isn't that the current point of Pete's life?
"Good morning." Pete greets with a cheery tone, Patrick blinks at him and rubs his eyes more and blinks again but then it's still Pete standing there. Patrick makes a slightly incoherent noise and shuffles forward again. "I can make coffee?"
Patrick stops and half smiles and nods, and Pete gets to work. Patrick leans against Pete as the coffee brews and Pete considers kissing him then, because they're alone and they might not have bathed or brushed their teeth but at least they both hadn't (probably) and Pete was making coffee and Patrick was sleepy and snuggly and probably open to suggestion. Pete shifts his shoulder and quietly says, "Hey."
Patrick stands up more, looking at Pete and 'hmm'ing, Pete turns just a bit more and slides his hand across Patrick cheek and sideburn into his hair and Patrick just kinda smiles at it, eyes mostly closed, and Pete leans in just a bit more, licking his own lips. He didn't think he'd feel this nervous, so he closes his eyes as the coffee machine lets out a few quiet beeps signaling that the brewing cycle is over and then... Patrick's not there.
Pete opens his eyes and looks at his hand (still in the air where Patrick's face should be) and for a moment he wonders if he was hallucinating or dreaming but he turns around to see Patrick behind him, pouring coffee. Pete might steal his cup and make Patrick pour another just because.
______
Pete's head is a little off all day because they didn't have time for him to go to his own bus before they had to go do a signing at this local place that apparently keeps selling out of their new album. He used the excuse to steal one of Patrick's shirts, he was gonna get a hoodie too but Patrick took it from him and wore it that day, so really it's not that bad.
What is kinda bad is that some girl shows Pete a picture she drew of him and Patrick kissing, she thought it would be funny, Pete kinda wants to recreate it and see if that's what they'd look like. On the upside, it makes Patrick blush and stutter but he forgets to sign her CD. Pete signs it for both of them, she deserves it.
The show gets delayed a bit, which ends in playing Truth or Dare Dirty, which ends in playing Dare Dirty, which ends in a few bruises and a possible broken pinky toe. Alas the show goes on, it goes on and on and Pete feels a bit guilty for feeling bored, but he can't help it. Things get a bit better as they finish with Saturday and then at least Pete gets to jump into the crowd (albeit with security guard safety) and scream and it's kind of awesome as usual. He says his 'thank yous' and 'you're the best crowd' and then heads off stage, bumping into Patrick.
Patrick's got a towel on his head and just smiles at him, slinging an arm around his shoulder as they walk together. Pete thinks for a second that maybe he doesn't need to kiss Patrick, that he's perfectly fine with what they've got now (not that a little kiss would change anything<\/i>, he reminds himself). Patrick lets the towel drop around his neck, turning his head towards Pete, arm still around his shoulder. Patrick's sweaty and he smells funky (or maybe that's Pete), but his eyes are shining and he bites his lip as he smiles at Pete. Pete thinks that he definitely has to kiss him, and of course Patrick pulls away and walks off and leaves Pete wondering what in the world he is doing with his life.
Day 8<\/b>
Pete's parents come out for their show today, so Pete kind of forgets (totally doesn't forget at al<\/i>l) about kissing Patrick for a moment. He spends the day showing his parents around the buses and the venue and introducing them to new crew members and re-acquainting them with old ones. He gets chewed out about his new tattoo even though they don't really mean it, they just care.
He gets his dad involved in pranking Dirty, which is awesome. Dirty wouldn't have fallen for it otherwise. His mom scolds them both afterward, but watching Dirty walk around with paper plates glued to his hands and feet is pretty much worth it.
He sees Patrick around, but it almost feels like Patrick's avoiding him, or maybe Pete's avoiding Patrick, or maybe they're both just distracted: he's not sure.
Pete makes sure the show that night is great, because well... his parents are watching. He tries not to do anything too dangerous, only jumping once from the low amp. His mom's eyes still go wide, but it's kind of just amusing. He feels a bit reckless, like a teenager again, it always happens around his parents.
When Patrick's steps away from the mic, letting Joe rock his guitar solo, Pete skips over and leans on him for a second; his ear pressed to Patrick's pulse, hearing it pound. He hears that it pounds in time with his own, until his own skips a bit in it's rhythm. Patrick moves to sing the next chorus and Pete can't help leaving a quick press of a kiss to his neck before bouncing away again. Pete glances back when he hears Patrick sing the wrong words, and he almost kind of smirks at it.
When his parents have to leave, Pete almost cries, but he's a big boy now so he doesn't. He's almost super jealous when his mom kisses Patrick's cheek as she hugs him goodbye, and she notices her son's pout and comes over to hug and kiss him again, reminding him that she'll see him again soon. It's not exactly what he would have liked, but it's totally okay and it helps; that and watching Dirty hug his dad (paper plates having been mostly removed) was kind of hilarious.
Pete sleeps well that night, and before he drifts off he gets a weird feeling that tomorrow will be a good day.
Day 9<\/b>
Today Pete decides he is going to really, for real, fucking finally kiss Patrick. If he doesn't do it today, he just won't, he'll give up. Today however, he is stepping his game up. Today he was up early, he bathed, he brushed his teeth, he called Andy to remind him to make Patrick do the same (which he will make Patrick do because Andy is really a good friend and wouldn't want his friends to be smelly and unfresh anyway). Pete was flattering, but not to an extent that made Patrick glare him, he let Patrick take the important questions during their phone interview later (by important, Pete means about the music and he would have let Patrick answer those anyway, but still). The rest of the day and tomorrow are free due to scheduling errors that Pete shouldn't be, but couldn't be happier about, so that means the universe is paying attention.
All of these things, and Patrick is smiling and being happy and he even told Pete that he liked the shirt he was wearing. Pete knew it was Patrick's favorite shirt on him but he wasn't going to say anything and ruin it.
But then comes the problem of getting Patrick alone. With three busses, a couple vans, a trailer and everywhere in town, it shouldn't really be that hard, but everyone's bored so they follow everyone else around. Like; Pete asked Patrick out to lunch and then Joe wanted to go and then Charlie said he had to go with them because he's their bodyguard or some shit and they had to be safe. Pete didn't pout though, he made jokes and told stories and let Patrick tell stories and laughed at his jokes and paid for the meal whether he liked it or not, because Pete is just a gentleman like that.
There was a moment at lunch, sitting at the Taco Bell, eating chalupas when Patrick got sauce on his cheek because Mexican fast food is drippy. Pete leaned in and licked it without thinking, and everyone kind of went quiet until Patrick started laughing and wiped at the spot with a paper napkin and said, 'dude, gross<\/i>' and Pete tried to play it off cool. Although, his brain now thinks that Patrick tastes like Mild Sauce, but that's okay.
What's even kind of better is that later in the afternoon, while Pete's throwing pieces of paper he found at Dirty or trying to get them to stick in Joe's hair, Patrick reaches over and brushes Pete's bangs out of his eyes. Pete turns toward him, Patrick fingers lingering around his forehead and his heart speeds up, his brain going into overdrive. Pete couldn't believe that Patrick might be about to kiss him or...or he was just annoyed with Pete's bangs and he moves his hand away and mutters something about Pete needing a trim soon. Pete tries really, really <\/i>hard not to be sad, leaning on Patrick and tossing a paper ball that gets stuck in Joe's hair helps.
________
The rest of the day Pete keeps trying to get Patrick alone, nonchalantly of course. It keeps happening, but right when Pete is about to make a move, someone shows up and ruins the mood (Dirty throwing toast at Pete for some fucking reason, God like what did he ever do to Dirty?) or asks for Patrick to come with them to check something out or Pete to go clean up the paper in the lounge because it could be a fire hazard (that one makes Pete scoff until he remembers that they had to have a 'no fireworks on the bus' rule and yeah, fire hazard).
So really, Pete's plan is all but coming together and simultaneously falling apart at the seams as the sun sets and Patrick is decidedly tired and wants to sleep early. Pete follows him to his bus, which is surprisingly empty and Pete's brain starts up again and so does his heart but he keeps his cool.
"Pete, you don't have to follow me around like a puppy, seriously, I'm gonna go to bed anyway."
"Yeah hey, we could like watch a movie or something and wind down together?" Patrick glances at Pete for a second before shrugging and almost yawning and saying, "Cool."
Pete tries not to grin creepily as they go to the lounge and turn on the Xbox to find that Andy had some nature DVD in it about Planet Earth, Patrick says it's actually pretty cool. So they sit and watch it for a bit before Pete kind of let's his hand rest on Patrick's knee, and it's warm and nice and Patrick doesn't say anything, Pete keeps his gaze on the screen just in case.
He scoots just a bit, until their shoulders and thighs are touching, his heart picking up just a bit when he feels Patrick lean his head against his shoulder. He licks his lips and closes his eyes for a second, trying to keep his breathing calm before he speaks, "Patrick, I...I just really....I really want to..."
Pete can't really finish his sentence, and he finds it odd that Patrick's not cutting him off with something like 'What Pete?' or 'Can you get to the point?' and Pete finally glances at Patrick. Patrick's asleep, drooling on his hoodie and Pete really should have guessed it. He lets Patrick sleep until the DVD stops and then he wakes him up and says goodnight before getting up to head to his own bus.
"Hey, Pete?" Pete stops and turns back to Patrick, who's stretching a bit as he stands to go to his bunk.
"Yeah?" Patrick blinks for a second and then glances down in thought, biting his lip and Pete's heart kind of stutters. Patrick finally looks back up to reply.
"I-" But whatever Patrick was going to say is cut off when Andy walks onto the bus, yelling back outside at someone and Patrick just shrugs and finishes, "Goodnight."
Pete nods and passes Andy to go back to his bus for the night, he doesn't really sleep much.
Day 10<\/b>
Pete wakes up from the two hours of sleep he got, his iPod still running in his ears. He gets up and pulls a hoodie on before padding to make coffee. It's not really early, but it's early enough to know that no one else is awake. Pete gets dressed while the coffee brews, not realizing until he pours the first cup that he's dressed completely in black, head to toe. Subconsciously in mourning he supposes.
He feels completely bored by the time the coffee buzz kicks in and he takes to writing down things he needs to do, lists and stuff, but when he accidentally writes 'kiss Patrick' he sighs and crumples the paper, throwing it somewhere across the room. He gets online for a bit, checks his email, tweets a bit...well a lot, the fans seem to be pretty amused by it. He even remembers to answer some questions on the fobrock q&a. After about an hour Joe gets up and complains loudly that Pete drank all the coffee and now they're out and accuses him of eating his Coco Crispies (which isn't fair because Joe finished those days ago and then ate Pete's cereal too). Joe wakes everyone else up on the bus by being loud, the day has started.
Pete suffers through until lunch by staying cooped up in the back lounge with headphones on, watching movies on his laptop. Then people want him to do things, like eat, and leave the bus, which is ridiculous. They end up at some vegan place because Pete wasn't there when Andy suggested a place to eat to get everyone to out vote him so they could just go to Taco Bell again. Vegan tacos aren't the same.
Pete just stays quiet though, eats slow, doesn't talk much, tries not to look at Patrick. Tries not to smile at him or something, there's no point today. After lunch, Pete resumes his sulking in the lounge, everyone else opts to go find a mini-golf place or possibly a bowling alley, Pete's heart just really isn't in it today.
He's just started watching The Goonies when he feels the seat next to him dip, and when he looks up Patrick's glancing at his screen, watching the credits in the silence of the bus. Pete unplugs his headphones and let's Patrick watch with him. They quote it and laugh and joke around and Pete's almost sad when the movie ends.
"Wanna watch something else?" Pete asks, clicking around.
"Not...maybe." Patrick replies, and Pete sets his laptop aside, shifting to turn towards Patrick, and Patrick looks kind of sad.
"What's wrong?"
"That's what I meant to ask you."
"Oh...nothing dude, I'm great."
"You passed up mini-golf, you are not great." Pete huffs in response, putting on a probably unnecessary air of indignity.
"Just because I passed that up doesn't mean I'm not perfectly fine."
"Okay, fine...." Patrick settles, "But...I mean, you've been weird for like a week now, you sure nothing's wrong?"
"Yeah, it's cool."
"Oh...alright then..." Patrick trails off into the silence for a moment before adding, "So making me brush my teeth a lot, trying to show me a random room with a couch and sulking around aren't things that are... y'know wrong?"
"There is nothing wrong with making you brush your teeth." Pete counters.
"You called Andy at 8am and told him to make me brush them, that's a little weird."
"Little bit...yeah..." Pete frowned, he thought he was being normal and not weird that day, but that is probably a weird thing, he'll agree.
"And now you're frowning again, Pete just tell me what's up."
"Nothing is what's up, okay?"
"Pete." Pete glances up to Patrick to see his stern gaze and Pete's heart does something weird when he decides to just tell Patrick, because why not, he's given up now, it can't really hurt.
"Okay....okay...." Pete let out a breath and looks away before starting, "So I decided that I really wanted to kiss you-And before you say anything listen okay because....I had this great plan, I thought you didn't want to kiss me before because I hadn't brushed my teeth, but then you still didn't, so I thought maybe you thought you needed to brush yours? Anyway, then I realized I should probably also be clean and not smell like a sack of old potatoes, and then I realized that flattering you might help-"
"Is that why you-"
"Yeah, probably and then I think I went too far when I decided to just wing it and kiss you on stage, but you don't like PDA obviously-"
"Well not in front of 2500 peo-"
"So then I tried to get you alone and I was like really creepy and forceful and I'm so fucking sorry, and yesterday I decided if I didn't kiss you then I wasn't ever going to, and you...you fell asleep, so....so now I don't want to kiss you I guess and I'm...I'm sorry I'm so weird."
"Pete..." Patrick paused, seemingly at a loss for words and Pete expected him to tell him he was stupid or something, "You're so stupid..." There it is, "...but I like that you're weird....it makes you Pete and I mean.....I can't believe anyone would go through that kind of trouble to kiss me..." There a playful edge to Patrick's voice, almost laughing at the end.
"But Pete....I mean....did it ever occur to you that maybe I just didn't want to kiss you?" That...well that really hurt and Pete didn't expect that at all. He didn't mean to glance at Patrick with his hurt expression, and he didn't expect Patrick's bemused one to turn to concern. "No, hey...not that I'm sure you don't kiss well or something, but I mean...I mean you're Pete, dude."
Pete nods, swallowing the lump in his throat, Patrick notices and his face falls even more and he glances around like he's looking for something to distract Pete. That's when something really weird happens. That's when Patrick scoots closer and slides his hand around the back of Pete's neck and gnaws on his lip a little nervously. That's when Patrick lets his eyes flutter closed and leans in and presses his lips against Pete's.
It's really light, and really unexpected, and Pete's eyes slip shut as quickly as he realized what's going on and he kisses back. Patrick keeps it slow but let's it deepen a bit, for just a moment, showing Pete what cherry stem tying consists of, before he pulls away. He leaves his hand around Pete's neck and Pete almost doesn't want to open his eyes, but he does.
"There...there okay, I kissed you and...and you kissed me and now you can stop being sad okay?" Pete's heart was hammering in his ears and he almost didn't catch what Patrick said, when he does he shakes his head. "No? Not okay? Was I that bad?"
Pete sighs heavily before replying, "No, you were...you're great actually, I just....I'm not gonna be happy now...I totally thought I would be..but..."
"But?" Patrick prompts, his hand sliding away from Pete.
"But now I'm gonna want to kiss you more than just then, and I don't know....it was a bad idea from the beginning really." Pete shrugs. Patrick blinks as he processes Pete's words.
"Well...well I don't see why you shouldn't be able to kiss me more..." He gets quieter and trails off by the end of his statement, and Pete bites his lip around the smile growing on his face. "Like, as long as we are alone and you've brushed your teeth and you don't overly flatter me until I want to hit you or something."
"O-okay." Pete replies, cursing himself mentally for stuttering and not being able to control his smile, "Can I kiss you again right now?"
Patrick opens him mouth to reply, but then just closes and nods lightly. Pete just grins wider, scooting closer, sliding his arms around Patrick's neck, getting to watch Patrick close his eyes in anticipation and Pete closes his too as he leans in.
Dirty bursts in with everyone else, loudly complaining about being banned from the only mini-golf course in Florida. He thinks he hears Patrick huff, but he can't stop smiling, he just buries his face against Patrick's neck, placing a soft kiss there, a promise for later maybe. Pete decides that that's the best way to kiss a Patrick (or something like it).<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:24826","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/24826.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=24826"}}],"title":"Little Black Dress","published":"2011-10-29T12:30:10Z","updated":"2011-11-06T12:50:18Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"penis"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"cross-dressing"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"Title: Little Black Dress
Pairing: Peterick
Rating: nc-17
Summary: Patrick has a crossdressing kink and Pete catches him in the act.
A\/N: Written for yukio-nenjikuji<\/a> on Tumblr
Patrick slid his fingers along the soft cotton panties, they were bikini cut and black with small colored polka dots and they were one of Patrick's favorite pairs. He had them laid out on the bed with the black slightly lacey almost-lingerie slip dress. He didn't want to go all out tonight, Pete was coming back before long, but Patrick hadn't done this in so long and didn't want to put it off again. He pulled his shirt and jeans off with slightly shaking hands, slipping out of his boxers and almost tripping on them, he kicked his clothes off to the side and reached out to the underwear on the bed. He tried to be delicate, to not rush anything but he pulled them on a little quickly, shivering as he adjusted himself, knowing that they weren't gonna fit right much longer. He slid the slip over his head, arms raised, letting the heavy but flowing fabric slide down his torso, making him shiver.
He adjusted the dress, the silky fabric cold against his warm skin, underwear tight and soft, and he laid back on the bed. He closed his eyes and let his hands slide from his collar bone down along his body, feeling his nipples through the thin black fabric, the smooth glide of the fabric beneath his fingers. He slid his hand down along his thighs, slopping just before the edge of the dress and pulling the fabric out tight, stretching it across himself, hips pushing up faintly against it.
Patrick pushed the fabric against his thighs, loving the shift of it against him, how the short hemline felt out of place from jeans or shorts. He had turned the stereo on low, just to give something besides silence to his aural senses but had long since forgotten what was playing; other than his hands playing at pushing up the hem of the dress, slowly and painfully higher, letting it bunch up. Patrick gasped a little loudly as he finally let the fabric slip up and over his mostly hardened cock.
He let himself cup a hand over his cock, feeling the soft and warmed panties, squeezing the length underneath, keening low in his throat. Patrick let himself think of the other pretty things he'd dress up in from time to time, just for himself, just to get it out of his system; he had a complete set of lace and see-through mesh lingerie, he had panties with little bows on them that would catch with the glide of his hand, he had another dress, a light blue one that the salesman told him complimented his eyes as he rung it up and it had made Patrick blush dark red and anxious to put it on. He thought about letting Pete know he did this, but Pete had made it clear going into their relationship that he was okay with Patrick being a guy, great with it even, and Patrick didn't want him to think he was doing it to convince Pete of anything....it was just, Patrick enjoyed the soft fabrics and the sinfulness of the skimpy little things, he was barely dressed but he was still dressed, a tease to himself. He almost loved ruining the underwear and the dresses, ruining something so sweet and delicate.
By this point Patrick was rolling the palm of his hand at a good rhythm across his cock, still over the underwear, making small noises when he'd speed up some and whining when he slowed down. Patrick loved making noise usually, mostly because of how Pete got off on it. When he made these noises Pete would usually pull back from his, staring and taking him all in and then he'd let out a quiet, "Fuck."
Patrick's eyes snapped open, heart thumping even harder against his ribcage, hand frozen, fingers spreading out as though to try and hide the panties. "Oh, Fuck." He heard Pete's voice again, closer, like he'd stepped a few feet into the room instead of standing at the door. Patrick shot up into a sitting position to stare at Pete, his cock slipping over the top of his underwear and pressing against his stomach, the dress falling over and obscuring the view. Pete was staring there anyway.
Patrick was flushed from being caught, too tongue-tied to speak aloud to Pete. Pete stood paused and staring for another minute before pulling his shirt off and crawling up to Patrick on the bed, sliding a hand around his neck and kissing him hard. Patrick's fingers scrambled against the sheets for a moment before reaching up around Pete's neck, making a surprised sound against his mouth as Pete laid him back down against the bed. Jean covered thigh pressing between his legs, the contrast causing Patrick to buck up against it, the soft cotton sliding against the rough denim. Pete pulled away from his mouth, pressing his leg snugly against Patrick's cock, shivering when Patrick let out a strangled moan, head tipping back. Pete nipped at the soft pale skin of Patrick's neck, fingers sliding over the lace straps of the dress, pulling them to hang over the sides of Patrick's shoulders so he could continue his trail of soft kisses and sharp nips along Patrick's collarbone. Patrick mewled and bucked up against Pete, fingers carding through his hair.
Pete pulled back suddenly, eyes dark and lidded as he pulls away from Patrick, settling back between his spread legs, taking him in. Patrick stuttered to speak but a flicker of Pete's gaze made him stay quiet, made him watch Pete watch him. Pete reached out tentatively, hands trailing lightly down the same trail Patrick's started out on, lingering to rub against his nipples and immediately sliding the dress back up Patrick's thighs. Pete's fingers traces the outline of the panties elastic band, feather light when traveling over his cock and it was maddening.
Without warning Pete hooked his fingers under the hem of the panties, and slide them down, Patrick shivered and raised his hips, letting Pete pull them down his legs and off, holding them and running his fingers over them, observing the slight wet spot left on the front. He set them aside with care, hands sliding back up Patrick's thighs, rustling the fabric and making it fall back over his cock, Pete leaned down and pressed his hot mouth over the cool silk, humid air blowing through against Patrick and he moaned loudly, fingers curling into Pete's hair.
He mouthed along Patrick's length before pushing the dress back up and taking Patrick into his mouth, tongue flicking just under the head of his cock. Patrick let out a quiet sob and resisted the urge to push into Pete's mouth. Pete closed a tight hand around Patrick's base, squeezing as he slide just barely lower. Pete's other hand slid up Patrick's thigh, fingers toying with the material of the dress, making it tickle Patrick's skin and he couldn't stop the faint giggle he let slip. Pete just slipped a bit further down and sucked harder, causing Patrick's quiet amusement to turn into a full moan, hips lifting up to chase Pete's mouth as he pulled back for a moment's breath.
Pete looked up at Patrick's disheveled hair, lips bite swollen, thin lacey straps still slide off of his shoulders, before taking him back in. Taking him lower, letting him brush against the back of his throat as he hollowed his cheeks and set a fast paced rhythm. Pete squeezed his hand, and let his thumb brush down over Patrick's balls, loving the shocked little gasp Patrick emitted between harsh breaths and whimpers and whispers of his name.
Patrick squirmed against the sheets just to feel the fabric slide against his skin, like another caress, Pete's heavy hand braced on his hip to try and keep him still. But with the way Pete was working he couldn't stay still, couldn't stay quiet, pitch raising melodically as he grew closer. Pete swirled his tongue before sliding down and sucking hard, simultaneously pulling the dress down with his hand and letting it slide against his inner thigh as Pete twisted his other hand. Patrick let out a half-choked gasp, toes curling as his heels dug into the bed, fingers twisting beside him, rumpling the sheets as he came apart, hot and wet in Pete's mouth.
Pete pulled off shortly after, pressing hot against Patrick's front, pressing his forehead against Patrick's bare shoulder, a hand fumbling into his jeans. His breath hot against Patrick's cooling skin, voice low and rough as he spoke, "Next time..next time-fuck..tell me you're gonna do this an-and I'll-" Pete pulled in a harsh breath as Patrick lazily pressed his thigh up against Pete, but he caught his words again, " I- God, I wanna tease you through your panties until you're begging and eat you out and fuck you...shit I wanna fuck you in this, because you deserv-serve..such a ...pretty girl..." Pete's words of praise trailed off into quiet stutters as Pete brought himself off, shooting hot over his hand and onto Patrick's dress.
Pete didn't pull away, just lay there, shifting slightly to comfortably lay against Patrick; who hand was brushing Pete's hair back, listening to his breath slow. "I've got to admit, I'm kind of bummed I didn't tell you about this sooner..."
Pete pulled back enough to look at Patrick, asking, "What?"
"The dress and the underwear...I mean...I just like it, I-I have stockings too and like bodices and-"
"Oh my god." Pete breathed out, sounding awed, Patrick had the decency to blush.
"Yeah..so...maybe this means you're cool with it? Like-"
"It kind of means you should just wear stuff like this all the time and have sex with me a lot."
"Pete..." Patrick said, a jokingly warning tone to his voice.
"I'm serious, I'm totally buying you lingerie for your birthday." Patrick just huffed lightly, but really he was completely okay with his boyfriend enjoying his kink too.<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:24291","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/24291.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=24291"}}],"title":"Supposed vs Opposed","published":"2011-09-30T10:45:10Z","updated":"2011-09-30T10:45:10Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"penis"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"Title: Supposed vs Opposed
Pairing: Peterick
Rating: NC-17
Summary: it's true love, and sex, and too complicated to be explained in a summary, that's why i wrote a story. read it, check it out.
<\/p>
After months of little to no communication I finally give in to see
him. We're sitting on his couch in front of some made for television
horror movie. My arm's braced on the back of the couch as he leans
against me, it's casual, but to anyone else it's the perfect setting for
disaster. I wonder.<\/p>
I glance at him, his attention rapt on the
screen. His hair looks over gelled and under styled, kind of matted in
places but I don't bother to fix it. The plain gray shirt he has on is
only rivaled in style by those too-baggy sweatpants that he's probably
been lounging in all week. We probably both could use a bath, but with
our mentality we never take one when we have all the chance in the
world. Too easy.<\/p>
I close my eyes and duck my head down just a bit,
nuzzling my nose against his cheek and part of his ear. Interested in
the way the inner curves of it feel in texture. I hear him sigh heavily,
what's wrong? I don't ask I just repeat the action, pressing a soft
kiss right before his ear this time. He goes rigid against me. Kind of
funny, isn't it?<\/p>
"Pete?" His voice sounds tentative, and hopeful and perfect as usual.<\/p>
I
mumbled a quiet, "Yeah?" in response, and grimace when my voice cracks
from lack of use these past couple of hours we've managed to sit like
this.<\/p>
He pulls away from me, and I remember that we're not just
characters and that this isn't coming from the mind of some teenage girl
with nothing better to do. When I chance to look at him again, he's
still pretty close. Staring at me, a slow smile creeping onto his face
and I try to smile back.<\/p>
Then he does something that scares me, or
I can only assume so with the way my heart picks up and how my throat
feels too tight when I try and swallow again. He leans against me again
and presses his cold nose against my neck, nuzzling me back, making sure
to kiss just so, just softly right behind my ear. I feel crazy.<\/p>
I
must be if I'm imagining him doing this. If I'm imagining the soft,
chapped press of his lips against my throat and my jaw, the shivers it
inadvertently causes. The casual flick of tongue before he moves back
again, eyes dialed in the flickering glow of bad acting and fake blood.
Was that it?<\/p>
Has he been waiting for that? Is he waiting for me to
reciprocate? He doesn't look away, and I feel like we've been staring
at each other for hours instead of seconds until I lean forward. My eyes
close on instinct, I don't kiss him yet. There's that moment though,
right before the kiss, where I should feel all sorts of anticipation and
unresolved tension, but all I feel is his little puffs of breaths
colliding with mine and all I think is that I should have brushed my
teeth.<\/p>
He closes that space though, and we're kissing and it's
slow and nice. Just nice, not mind blowing, no indoor fireworks. I let
him decide to pull away and when I look at him again the side of his
mouth is quirked up and he's blushing. Which might be the only thing to
have compelled me to lean in again.<\/p>
We go through this a few
times, each time the kisses are longer and a couple times we miss the
mark and his nose bumps into mine or I only catch the corner of his
mouth. I realize belatedly that this would probably be termed as making
out, and something turns in my stomach. Acid build up, maybe, but I'm
used to it.<\/p>
The next time I pull away I feel the weight of his
hand braced on my neck, fingers slipping up into my hair, sure to get
caught in it, I haven't really been taking care of it again. I see that
same damn half smile that he pulls, and I lean back in as he pulls away,
tugging his fingers out of my hair. Which is only fair.<\/p>
The part
where he stands up and tugs my hand is all part of this game. I let him
take me along past the dirty coffee table, and messy kitchen. Down the
short dark hallway into the dark clothing strewn bedroom, and it's like
floating. I'm not here, I'm just here. A spectator to my own life. Which
only seems right, right?<\/p>
He stops and fumbles with the laptop
plugged in charging in the corner. This isn't how it goes, but he's
doing that anyway. He clicks hurriedly and some sort of cliched smooth
jazz starts playing, inwardly I didn't expect anything else. It's quiet
though and somehow is easily ignorable, I know how it feels.<\/p>
He
slinks back over, it fits him, and presses against me. Presses his lips
back against mine, works a hand back into my hair. I don't feel the
build up of lust, no carnal need to touch him back, but I do. I do slip
my arms comfortably around his waist, simple. Only everything is
complicated.<\/p>
My hands are starting to sweat and I feel
light-headed, and he pushes me back until I sit on the bed. He pulls
away from me, reaching down to unbutton my jeans, all of his attention
focused therein, unlike how it's supposed to be; us kissing until our
heads spin, fervently trying to get each other naked without breaking
away. I kind of like this more, watching his hands work, fingers curling
swiftly to pop the button loose and slide the zipper down. I'm kind of
happy I stopped buying jeans that barely fit skin tight or ones with
buttons all up because they looked cool. Cool is impractical.<\/p>
He
lets me work them the rest of the way off, slipping out of his sweats
just to show off some generic pair of boxers. I hate to admit I'm glad I
wore underwear, I'm sure I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to just
wear the skintight jeans, commando, but if I did that I might as well
wear eyeliner again.<\/p>
He looks a little lost, god only knows how
fucking lost I must look. He brushes a hand through his hair, messing it
up just a little more, biting his lip out of habit.
"Uhhhhmmm....shirts?"<\/p>
I don't completely know what he means, no perfect mental communication here, "Off or..?" He asks, clarifying.<\/p>
"Oh....your call."<\/p>
So
he shrugs and pulls his off. It's weird again, to me anyway. I've seen
him shirtless before, countless times, it's not much different but his
confidence about it is surprising. I end up taking mine off for lack of
anything better in mind, and he smiles again. I did good.<\/p>
"Scoot
back some." He orders, patiently, as though if I didn't really want to I
didn't have to, but I do anyway. I scoot until my knees are barely
bracketed on the bed. He kneels onto the bed, to the side of me and
works his leg over my lap until he's sort of straddling me. Almost
slipping as he adjusts himself and I reach out to save him, hands
cupping his ass on accident, but it seems an okay thing to do. Eyes
locking onto mine, heart probably beating faster because of his near
injury rather than me touching him, but I'll take it.<\/p>
Then we're
kissing again, and it's still nice. Just nice though, not enough to get
me hot, not enough for me to get past the fact we're best friends. The
quiet moan he has me swallow tells me that it's not the same story for
him, hell all of this so far has told me things about him I thought were
fiction. I don't think he even reads the fiction about us, doesn't even
know it's out there. Pseudo-innocence is his kind of thing I suppose.<\/p>
He
leans into me and I have to brace us with my elbow pressed hard into
the bed, slipping slowly until we end up sort of horizontal. My legs are
still hanging off of the bed and my pulse pounds low in my stomach at
the strange circulation. He just readjusts himself again, sitting right
across my hips. The kiss breaks with that, and instead of pressing our
lips back together he just starts nipping at my neck. A little too
light, and a little too infrequent.<\/p>
I hear him huff, and then he
clamps his teeth a bit harder, sucking on the impressed skin after and
oh. My eyes flutter shut instead of staring at the stupid stucco
ceiling, my breathing shuddering lightly as he works his way along my
collarbone, nipping and licking and sucking. He shifts again, pressing
his ass against my now half-interested cock. I make this quiet noise,
that I'm pretty embarrassed about for some reason, he's heard me make
these noises before. Muffled in the next bed over, across the half inch
of hallway space tour buses have. He just shifts back again,
purposefully and I make that same damn noise, and he sits up.<\/p>
He's
still, the weighted pressure still there over me, my hands migrated to
his hips at some point and i thumb over the soft skin and take a moment
to notice the song's changed genres. Something I probably have on my own
iPod but have long since forgotten the name of. He's biting his lip
again, he's hard too, again nothing we haven't see before.<\/p>
"I've
done this before y'know?" I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he flushes a
bit darker, something settles in my stomach. So he stutters, "I-I
mean....god, hold on..."<\/p>
He slides off of me and so I sit up,
scoot back, staring off in the direction he left in. He pads back in
from where, I can only assume the bathroom across the hall, cock bobbing
proudly and I can barely hold back a laugh or smile. He doesn't seem to
care, just smiles back, crawling back to me on the bed, messing the
already-had-been-messy sheets up more.<\/p>
"This..I've..." He doesn't
finish the sentence, he looks young again, not that he isn't but I mean
really young. It pulls at something in my chest that immediately drops
to my stomach when I see he's holding a tube of half used KY and some
off-brand of condom. I don't breath, that'd be too good of an idea.<\/p>
"It's....I'm
getting carried away, of course I am...." He smiles, just a quirk of
his lips, nothing too special. He wants it all, and I don't blame him
but I have to wonder why he wants anything from me. His fingers loosen
around the items and then tighten, he's slumping in on himself, not
quite as excited as he was before his bad idea. This whole thing has
been a bad idea.<\/p>
I love bad ideas.<\/p>
I push forward, push him
back, watch his eyes widen, note how he pushes his questionable
substances aside for later (soon). I brace myself over him, heart not
beating fast enough but hard enough for sure. Oh.<\/p>
In that moment I
hated that feeling. I pressed our lips together harder than we'd let
them be before, I bit and searched and made sure he couldn't breath. I
take his breath away. Ha.<\/p>
He wants it all, he wants too much, too
fast, not fast enough. He can have it. I just hope to God it doesn't
break him. I pull away for such an insignificant moment it blurs into
the next. I slide my hands across his shoulders and chest and he squirms
and makes the shyest of needy noises.<\/p>
I slip my hands lower
still, to his wriggling hips. I leave his mouth to find his neck to bite
and suck and lick like he'd done to me, only harder, not caring if he
likes it, he asked for it. He moans, and I've heard it all before, he
says my name, and I've heard it all before, he begs for more. That's
something new. I'll be happy to give him more of everything.<\/p>
I
pull slowly at the stretchy elastic around his waist, slide my tongue
slowly around the shell of his ear. Pretend I have a plan. I have to
pull away to get them pulled off and he whimpers quietly. I don't know
what to do for a split second after the sound reaches my ears, but then
he lifts his hips, and yeah, okay, right.<\/p>
I pull the boxers down
his thighs, staring at just those right now, touching just because. But
they don't feel as special as everyone thinks, or maybe it's just me. He
shivers, full body. I kneel up and watch him kick the underwear away,
mine stay on for stupid reasons, I'm sure.<\/p>
I inspect him, laying
flushed on messy sheets, desperate just for me. I find it somewhere in
the back of my mind to keep going, because he deserves it all. I forgo
the pleasantries and wrap a tight fist around his cock, watching his
eyes widen, hearing his breath catch, feeling him pulse. A couple of dry
tugs and he throws the lube at me. No, really, he threw it at me.<\/p>
It's
uncapped with a loud pop, the plastic scraping against calloused
fingers, not feeling it like I should have. Just enough in my palm to
see it slide around, this is the beginning of this whole act getting
messy. So I replace my hand, watching how when I slow down he thrusts
up. When I speed up he moans in the low end of his range.<\/p>
But this
isn't all of it, this is just scratching the surface. Tip of the
iceberg. You get the idea, cliches. I let go and he still bucks up,
fingers near his head, clasped around the bottom edge of an old pillow. I
drag my nails feather light across his balls, earning another shiver
and I send one back without meaning to. I go lower until I can't see the
tips of my fingers, so I feel around, I guess he thinks I'm teasing I'm
just lost.<\/p>
I hear him swallow audibly, "Pete." and I pause
everything. I pull my hand back as he starts to shift, and he swirls
over onto his stomach. It's the only way I can explain the move he just
pulled off, still between my legs just a different side of the coin. I
smirk lightly wondering how many times he'd tried that and it'd gone
wrong before now.<\/p>
Then I look him over again, head tilted
sideways, braced on his arms, back bowed ever-so making his ass stick up
just a bit more. More lube, more of this mess to be made. Then I
hesitate, figures.<\/p>
"I..." croaked out like a true frog prince. His
eyes flutter open, dart sideways towards me. I keep the gaze as I press
a finger in between his cheeks, pressing against his entrance. The
lashes flutter, and he bites his lip and sure as hell doesn't tell me
I'm wrong. I press a finger in, careful not to make it slip too far too
fast.<\/p>
This part I know, this part I've done before. I know just
how to brush my knuckle, how to soothingly probe deeper. I know that the
tiny gasps I'm receiving are the reason another finger joins the first.
Why I pry them apart and push them deeper. How the gasps get louder,
how my nails catch just a bit on the way in that time, be more careful. I
think, does he want a third one, he wanted it all, but then I glance
down at myself and scoff at the thought. I slide in another anyway and
watch his mouth stay stuck in a permanent silent moan. I can feel him
twitch and shiver around my fingers as they slip easier, he has<\/i> done this before.<\/p>
And
then, something weird happens as I stumble upon this thought. Who?
Who's got to touch him like this, make him feel this, been here before
me? How long has he waited for me to take this chance. When did I lose
that first chance? Or is this it, and then it is my first chance. I lean
forward and kiss his shoulder as I push them back in and his hips twist
against the sheets.<\/p>
I kiss his shoulder again as he whimpers and I
pull my fingers away. Watch his eyes flutter just lightly, not opening,
it's like he's dreaming beneath those salty lids. I fumble for the
condom and fumble getting my underwear down and fumble opening the foil
and fumble rolling it on. Suddenly my hands won't stop shaking, suddenly
I can't wipe the sweat off my upper lip fast enough.<\/p>
I nudge his
thighs apart and he seems to wake up from that dream he was having. He
pushes himself up, hands and knees, perfectly displaying himself to me
were this to be the animal kingdom. But oh yeah, it is. So I kneel up,
and spread him apart, eyes closed to the shudder and the strange high
note coming through tinny laptop speakers. I press myself against him
sliding slightly, thinking I might have used too much lube for his
liking, but how could I know?<\/p>
I start to push in, eyes still
closed, because I still know this part. I still know how to be slow and
accommodating, how to rub soothing circles against his lower back, how
to bite off a moan when he shifts back against me and tightens down for a
millisecond. The shuddering breaths from both ends when I can't go any
deeper without moving back again, the slow unwinding of muscles.<\/p>
"You..Pete
you can move, whenever." I take another shaking breath, wondering how
long I'd stayed just so, waiting, having forgotten to count the seconds.
He wants me to move so I do, slowly rocking back and forth until I
start slipping a little further back each time. Until I start sliding
back in.<\/p>
Slowly building up a rhythm of back and forth, breathe through your nose and out your mouth. But he whines, and presses back. Not fast enough Pete, come on now.<\/i>
I speed it up, gripping his hips, digging my fingers into the fleshier
parts. He moans my name, and it's the most ridiculous thing on the
planet and laugh. I laugh too loud and too long, still thrusting, same
rhythm.<\/p>
I hear him laugh too, quiet and breathy, punctuated by
gasps and lip bites until we both fade off. When I've started going
faster without meaning to, but it's okay. So I try harder without
meaning to and it's nice. So I try twisting my hips and he pushes back
against me, my name spilling out again.<\/p>
But this time it's enclosed in a soft moan, followed by a shiver and I can't do anything else but reply in a strained voice, "Patrick<\/i>..."<\/p>
I speed up again. Keep the same angle Pete, we know how this goes.<\/i>
The quiet gasps getting progressively louder with each thrust.
Crescendo. The sinful slap of skin on skin that always manages to be
ever present and ever a turn off no matter how good the pleasure is.
Beat. The moans, and whimpers and whispers from god knows who anymore.
Melody. Lyrics. Cadence. The song that's playing quietly paling in
comparison.<\/p>
But this isn't what I'd expected, not all of this. I
take my frustration out by giving it all I've got. Giving everything to
him. The sweat falls, beading up and managing to get caught in my eyes
for a moment, stinging. When my vision comes back he's barely bracing
himself anymore, one hand wrapped around himself, trying to keep time.
Which he does, drummers are weird like that.<\/p>
I hear him get louder
and quieter at the same time, breaths huffing from our lungs trying to
get out and stay out but they always get pulled right back in. Then he
shudders, and he whispers my name one last time before the beginning of
the end. Another piece of this beautiful mess.<\/p>
He tightens down on me repeatedly, rapid fire muscle movements, pulling me in and bringing me down with him.<\/p>
And just like that it's over.<\/p>
Just
like that I'm pulling the rest of the way out and tying off the
garbage, still warm when it's chucked into the trash. Just like that and
I'm coming down and wiping my forehead free of sweat. Laying down on
the cooled half of the mattress. Eyes closed.<\/p>
It hits me what I've
done, like a ton of bricks, like a ton of feathers. I fucked him. Not
just metaphorically but physically. A whole new level of messed up and
ready to freak out. I feel wrong and vile and I used him and made him
cheap. He's just a sales return now, without a receipt, I lost it years
ago.<\/p>
My heart won't slow and my throat burns threateningly, I
focus on hearing him breathe. Breaths slowing down like my own should
be. Then the mattress moves, and I can't open my eyes. Can't look to see
him grimace and run off to the bathroom to try and clean me off of him.
He couldn't if he tried.<\/p>
Then I feel a slightly clammy but warmed
forehead press against my shoulder. An arm across my chest, fingers
wrapping perfectly to fit into the grooves of my shoulder. That's it, no
other connection, no need to lay pressed completely together and sweaty
I suppose. Everything's still wrong somehow.<\/p>
Then he fixes it, so simple how he does it. Years of mastering the art, but he fixes it.<\/p>
"I
love you." It's warm, and solid and he scoots a bit closer, nuzzles his
nose against my neck. My pulse slows but my heart stays beating hard
before I reply and complete the repairs. Feeling his smile already,
feeling it infect me without a warrant. In that moment, I love bad
ideas, and cliches and best friends. I do.<\/p>
"I love you too."<\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:23896","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/23896.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=23896"}}],"title":"Happy Halloween","published":"2011-09-26T09:05:53Z","updated":"2011-09-27T00:17:15Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"holiday fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"halloween"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"highschool au"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}}],"content":"Title: Happy Halloween “Harder, Mikey…please!” Gerard manages to grit out between moans and grunts that slip from between his lips. Mikey picks up his pacing, slamming his hips against Gerard’s ass hard enough to bruise. <\/p> Mikey leans over his brother’s back, whispering roughly into his ear, “You like this don’t you, tell me.”<\/p> Gerard gasps at the way the angle changes as his brother leans over him, mumbling in between curses and nonsense, “Oh yes…love…f-fuck.” Gerard loses his words, reveling in the feel of his brother’s throbbing cock buried deep inside him, brushing over his prostate in just the right way.<\/p> “God..Yeah, I know you do…” Mikey leans back, gripping hard at Gerard’s hip, nails digging in, leaving red cresent-shaped marks as he snaps his hips forward faster, tilting his head back and losing himself. Everything building up into a beautiful cacophony, and then breaking. Shuddering against his older brother, Mikey cums hard, feeling Gerard contract around him signaling his own orgasm.<\/p> Gerard moans softly as Mikey pulls out, feeling the cum slowly drip out of his hot, stretched hole. “You like the way that feels, huh?”<\/p> <\/p> Gerard nods his head, unable to speak properly, his nerves still taught from the high. Mikey leans down, lapping lightly at his own cum, licking it out of his brother’s ass. Mikey loves the way his brother moans at this, and all in all he doesn’t really mind the taste.<\/p> <\/p><\/a> <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:22705","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/22705.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=22705"}}],"title":"After the Last Fall Out Boy Show","published":"2011-03-05T08:25:38Z","updated":"2011-07-29T12:05:54Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":" Title: After the last Fall Out Boy show (or I couldn't think of anything more cliche to call this trite)<\/span> Patrick caught Pete’s eye just as the bridge of Chicago Is So Two Years ago hit. It was perfect eye contact, and Pete’s smile was wide. There was something about the eye contact and the look Patrick returned that made Pete shiver. After the show a fan tried to stick around and go party with the band, but Pete had more important things to do than deal with some hussy. He walked up behind Patrick, whispering in his ear, nipping at it gently. “Maybe we should head back to your bus.”<\/p> Patrick just nods vigorously and pulls Pete to the bus, barely making it inside before Pete was placing light kisses along Patrick’s neck. As soon as the door shut Patrick pressed Pete against it, kissing him deep and dirty. Not stopping until they both came up gasping for air. They stumbled to the back lounge, or made it that far, before Pete shoved Patrick onto the couch, climbing into his lap.<\/p> Everything was hot and tense, and perfect. They made music just in the way their hips crashed together in a frantic attempt to find solace. Shirts pulled away, pants unbuckled and unbuttoned. Hands tracing and searching, mouth sucking and biting. No, it wasn’t perfect, but it was wrong enough to be right. It was too much and not enough, and something neither of them could ever forget.<\/p> Afterward, Pete pulled Patrick sideways to cuddle on the couch as he drifted off to sleep well, and dream well, for the first time all tour. Patrick pulled on a shirt after Pete had slipped into his dreams, out of habit and self-consciousness he was still trying to overcome. It ended up being Pete’s but it didn’t really matter as Patrick lay back down and held onto him, drifting off just as easily.<\/p> In the morning Joe teased them for falling asleep together on the couch, and Pete just smiled and made a slightly blushing Patrick some coffee and toast and eventually, Patrick smiled back. Albeit slightly annoyed as Pete started talking of wedding plans.<\/p><\/a> <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:22423","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/22423.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=22423"}}],"title":"Patience","published":"2011-03-05T08:23:39Z","updated":"2011-12-15T13:07:08Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"kinky"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":" Title: Patience <\/p><\/div> Pete’s eyes were blind-folded and his wrists were secured above his head to the bedpost by a silk scarf. He was left there momentarily, shivering in anticipation, and exposed. Patrick wanted to take his time tonight, wanted to make Pete give in and give up just from his touch. Nothing rushed, or hurried in the way Patrick placed his soft lips to the curve of Pete’s jaw. Brushing them over the pounding pulse, muscles in his neck tensing at Patrick’s too light touch, but didn’t dare beg for more yet.<\/p> Pete blindly felt Patrick’s lips trace along the thorns around his collar, licking lower and pulling a sensitive nipple between his teeth. Pete gasped quietly, back arching ever-so-slightly, pushing himself towards Patrick. Giving in.<\/p> Patrick had a devilish smirk as he kissed and licked lower, spreading Pete’s legs to kneel between them as he languidly traced each piece of Pete’s bartskull with the tip of his tongue. Teasing, and Pete pulled against his restraint, growling low in the back of his throat trying to get Patrick to move on. But, Pete wasn’t the one in charge.<\/p> Patrick removed his mouth from Pete’s skin completely, and Pete whined through his nose like a sad puppy. Patrick leaned up and kissed his roughly, biting Pete’s lower lip almost hard enough to make it bleed, and all Pete could do was buck up into non-existent friction. Patrick pulled back enough to whisper, voice rough as he slowly drug his blunt nails down along Pete’s sides, “You’re learning about patience Pete, you will be patient.”<\/p> Pete nodded his head once, and managed to mumble a low and almost breathless, “Yes, sir.”<\/p> Patrick started over, kissing from Pete’s jaw back to his belly button, back to the bartskull. Scraping his teeth over Pete’s hip bones, sliding his hands up Pete’s thighs, still teasing. It was driving Pete insane, but he stayed still and didn’t push.<\/p> Patrick finally wrapped a warm hand around the base of Pete’s cock, not stroking, but it was still friction. Pete’s low moan was choked off when he suddenly felt Patrick’s tongue, licking a stripe from his fist up, swirling his tongue around the head. Pete could only whimper as he was engulfed by the warm, wet heat of Patrick’s mouth. Making up inside his head the image of those pink lips stretching out, of his throat relaxing and letting Pete slide in just a little further. Not being able to see was torture, and it only got better when Patrick hollowed his cheeks, pulling up slowly from the base back to the tip.<\/p> The slow rhythm of heat and suction Patrick was keeping was making Pete shake and shiver, and bite his lip to keep from speaking out of turn. Patrick was dragging this out and dragging his tongue in just a way to make Pete’s head tip back, groaning and pulling against the ties again, wanting to slide his fingers through Patrick’s hair or hold him steady and fuck up into his mouth. But he wasn’t allowed either of those things, and so he took what he was given.<\/p> Patrick slowly but surely sped up his pacing, bobbing his head faster and sucking harder, intermittently slowing back down again and taking him all the way down. Pete’s breaths were hitching or stopping completely, and he could hear his heart in his ears and feel the deep burn and drawing building up. Patrick swirled his tongue like a tidal wave around the tip before quickly bobbing his head and Pete moaned loudly, pushing his hips up just barely. Patrick dug the nails of his unoccupied hand into Pete’s hip as a warning, but still slid down slow, all the way, his nose brushing the waxed-bare tanned skin just above Pete's cock. Pete felt him breath out through his nose then back in, breathing is the musky scent of Pete.<\/p> Patrick moaned around Pete’s cock, and Pete couldn’t stop the quiet sob that was almost ripped from his chest as the subtle vibrations rang through him. Patrick pulled back, not going so low again or slow again, but just sticking to the quick pace and tight suction. Pete was close and didn’t know what to do, he wouldn’t be able to hold off on the nerves that were screaming at him to let go. So he didn’t, he let go, gave up. Orgasm burning up his arched spine, patterns like fireworks bursting behind his eyelids. He reveled in how intense it was and how lost he was when it happened.<\/p> Patrick licked away what he wasn’t able to catch of Pete’s cum, swallowing as a reward for how well Pete behaved. Patrick licked his lips unconsciously as he pulled the blind from around Pete’s eyes and kissed him back his own taste, pulling away soon after to free Pete’s wrists.<\/p> “You were a very good boy, Pete.” Patrick purred as he smirked, and Pete’s wrists fell free but stayed together and raised above his head. And Pete smiled, almost preening at Patrick’s words. Patrick watched Pete lay still as he put away the ties and smiled as Pete waited for him to kiss him again. Pete had given in and given up himself to Patrick, and he was a very good and patient boy now…..well, in bedroom at least.<\/p><\/a> <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:21594","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/21594.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=21594"}}],"title":"Miss You","published":"2011-02-24T10:38:46Z","updated":"2011-10-07T10:16:14Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"Title: Miss You Title: When You Wish Upon A Star Patrick sat quietly, strumming along the strings of his guitar, striking a mellow G chord. When music all went digital people were worried about what might happen to the scene. But the thing is, even when they developed holographic instruments, and super sonic sound quality, they didn't kill rock'n'roll. No matter what the music industry did, there was no bass-tone computer program that could cancel out the feel, the hum the sound of a six string acoustic guitar. <\/p> Do you remember last summer, the sugar coated poison that rotted our teeth. That bled into our systems and let us fly. The warm waters lapping at our feet, waiting for the sun to go down. Sitting quietly, just sitting, and watching the sun die. It burnt out that night, but in turn lit a new flame.<\/p> Not a slow burning flicker, but a more rampant spark. Like a Black Cat firework. The stumbling and hushed voices. I captured everything you meant to say with my lips. Pressed against a dirty bus, hands creeping, searching for something to hold onto.<\/p> I didn’t know what I was doing, I still don’t. The clank of a buckle, jeans layed dying on the ground, clinging to our ankles in an attempt to stay alive. The heat, the fever, gnawing on our nerves. I hadn’t felt it try to break me in so long.<\/p> Passing out later on the same bus. Still too hot but too young, too stupid to notice. We banged the doldrums. Upset the euqatorial calms in the warm, still waters. It was something that would never last, something that had to be reset with the alarm clocks and the time off.<\/p> Inside jokes made codewords for sudden bursts of dangerous nostalgia. It never meant more than it was to you, it still means more than it ever did for me. I’m hopeless, and hopeful. I let myself break my own heart this time. We’re still best friends (ex “friends”) until the end. Better off as lovers and not the other way around.<\/p><\/a> <\/p> Title: When you Wish Upon A Star Patrick is awaken around three hours later, the sun still not up. He grumbled as he a cracked a sleep infested eye open to see Pete, sitting in his computer chair and watching the projector play some stupid late night game show. It was on mute, or close to it anyway, but the lights were flickering rampantly and Pete has apparently just cheered too loudly for someone. Patrick's internal clock tells him he could still sleep a few more hours, but the bright sun and loud music make him decide otherwise. Pete was sitting in his computer chair again, blasting 5o4 Plan, he also had a cord attached to the laptop, that seemed to also be connected to his wrist. "You know, for a robot...you don't seem very...roboty." Patrick said suddenly, making Pete look up from where he was reading one of Patrick's vintage paper made books. <\/p> He had a spit slick hand wrapped around himself, tugging harshly, knuckles brushing against his zipper so fast he was sure to have scraped up fingers after this. He had to be fast or-<\/p> "Hey, Mikey! Are you done in there yet, I have to fix my makeup real quick I think I smudged it." His brother's voice echoed through the door. Mikey moved his hand faster, ignoring it. "Mikey!"<\/p> Gerard banged on the door forcefully, Mikey sighed and looked down at his hand. He couldn't get off, he needs to fucking get off. More banging, Mikey painfully tucks himself away and manages to at least do the button on his jeans before Gerard barged in and stood in front of the mirror. Re-applying dead rose blush around his eyes, mouth open in concentration.<\/p> Mikey didn't make to leave the bathroom yet, it was one thing Gerard seeing him hard, he didn't need Frank to find a way to work that into a new nickname for him. Gerard's eyes slide down in the mirror, and a smirk graced his lips. Mikey ignored this too, pressing his hair down and walking out of the bathroom, still far from soft.<\/p> Mikey sits across the room from the rest of the guys, crossing his legs just in case. It's been so fucking long since he last got off by himself, much less another person. His body didn't seem to want to stop being horny tonight, and honestly it wasn't cool, he had to be on stage in a matter of minutes.<\/p> Gerard walked back in, singing something Britney Spears as 'vocal warm ups' and crossed the room straight away to Mikey. Mikey switched which leg he had crossed. Gerard pushed his leg back to the floor and sat in his lap, still smirking.<\/p> Mikey closed his eyes and tried not to think about it, tried thinking about their mom, or that one teacher that used to not wear bras so her tits hung low on her stomach, or dead...unicorns. All of these things just made Mikey really sad. Gerard shifted in his brother's lap, pressing his ass right up against Mikey's hard dick.<\/p> Mikey grabbed Gerard's upper thighs, digging his nails in, trying to put across the message of 'stop that'. Instead Gerard rolled his hips, grinding down, making Mikey whimper.<\/p> "House lights are out, get your asses on stage!" Gerard stood swiftly, not looking back at his brother. Mikey stood, glaring at everything and headed on stage.<\/p> Mikey adjusted his bass, waiting for Give 'Em Hell Kid to be announced, trying not to press his hips against his instrument. Trying to focus on playing music rather than being hard on stage.<\/p> "...SO GIVE 'EM HELL KIDS!" Gerard shouted into the mic, getting some feedback. It just added to the song as Mikey started playing waiting for Frank to kick in, then Bob, then Ray, then more singing.<\/p> Gerard was moaning and gasping as much as he was hitting any notes in the song, Mikey kept his head ducked down, staring at his hands, glasses slipping further towards falling off.<\/p> The songs went on and Mikey started wondering if their set had always been this long, or if every song had this much bass in it. Honestly, his guitar was humming through his entire body, chipping away at the willpower he had left. He was sweaty under the lights, and his coat, but mostly the lights.<\/p> He was thankful when the lights dimmed, knowing that the last song of the night was coming up. What Mikey was not thankful for was the fact that Gerard decided that was the perfect song to orgasm to. Or well, it's what it sounded like.<\/p> Between lyrics Gerard spouted curses and breathy 'oh gods', <\/em>dragging his hands all over himself. The song was almost over though, Mikey kept telling himself, then he'd be able to go jerk off and maybe even shower. The breakdown of the song kicked in, and while not having to sing, Gerard walked over to Mikey.<\/p> Tilting his chin up, and leaning in to lick a hot wet strip along his jaw, running his hand across Mikey's torso. Mikey's hips jerked, his cock twitched. Just as soon as he'd come though, Gerard was back across the stage finishing the song and saying goodnight.<\/p> Mikey practically threw his bass down, walking quickly back stage, each step causing everything to chaff in the worst places. He ended up back in the same bathroom as earlier, same position as earlier. Hair mussed, sweaty, glasses fogged over. This time however, Gerard wasn't interested in fixing his makeup when he waltzed in.<\/p> Gerard pressed himself to his brother, trapping him against the wall. He leaned down, licking very much the same trail as on stage, before biting roughly just under the dip of Mikey's collarbone. Gerard tugged the stupid red handkerchief from around Mikey's neck, and unzipped his jacket. Mikey shrugged out of it, feeling too overheated even for the lack of bright lights. Gerard followed suit, most literally, pulling the crushed denim jacket off and unbuttoning his black shirt.<\/p> Mikey watched, whimpering quietly with a hand back around himself. Gerard slipped to his knees, half unbuttoned and impatient. Sliding his hands up Mikey's thighs before grabbing tightly, almost pulling his hips off the wall. He let his eyes slip closed before taking the tip of Mikey's cock inside his mouth, moaning theatrically as he slid down the length, lips stretching out.<\/p> Mikey's hips snapped forward, unable to help himself. He couldn't care who's mouth it was or if he was choking them, the hot, wet, tight suction engulfed his senses. Gerard's eyes watered slightly, when his brother pushed in deeper, down his throat, but he just let him do it. Let him fuck his mouth.<\/p> Mikey's fingers weaved into Gerard's unruly black hair, tugging and pulling, drawing more moans from them both. Mikey's hips snapped forward once, twice more, before he came down his brother's throat.<\/p> Gerard stayed attached to his brother's softening cock, cum and spit leaking from the sides of his taught lips. A hand pressed against himself, kneading through his pants. Mikey pushed his brother off of him, sliding down to the floor, spent.<\/p> Gerard grabbed one of Mikey's hands, and Mikey let himself be guided to press against his brother. Mikey gathered himself long enough to reach into Gerard's pants to jerk him roughly. Gerard came with a surprisingly quiet gasp, slumped against his brother on a dirty bathroom floor.<\/p> "Fuck, I needed that." Gerard mutters against Mikey's shoulder, Mikey makes a noise of approval. There was pounding on the door and Ray was shouting through about needing to use the bathroom. Mikey stood and hauled his brother off the floor, trying to make them look presentable before leaving the room.<\/p> "Y'know Gee, the next time you need some help with that...I'll probably be more than willing..." Gerard leaned in suddenly pushing Mikey against the counter and kissing him sloppily, muttering something along the line of 'best brother ever' before walking out of the bathroom, Mikey just smiled and let Ray shove him out of the room. Mikey might just have to get that on a t-shirt.<\/p><\/a> <\/p><\/font> Title: When you Wish Upon A Star <\/p> <\/p> Patrick Stump was a fairly wealthy young man, who went to a private school, and had a nice enough home life. So perhaps, he was a little bit of a geek for 20th century music and movies (Stars Wars is still fun even if it's two centuries later), and he kind of had no friends. He had a couple, but apparently not enough for his mom to not buy him a companion bot for his birthday.<\/span><\/p> It'll be like a tutor."<\/span><\/p> "For what?" Patrick was doing Above Average in all of his classes. <\/span><\/p> "Music." Patrick has to mentally scoff, he'd do better teaching a robot than being taught in that field. Outwardly, Patrick sighs and looks back to his mom.<\/span><\/p> "Where is it?" His mother smiled before answering.<\/span><\/p> "Your room, I sent him up to tidy things...he has quite a few functions."<\/span><\/p> "He?" Patrick asked, his mother nodded.<\/span><\/p> "Well..I know you like all that old music, the..screamo? I was looking around and someone was selling a replica-bot of one of those singers you liked and, well....It was pretty cheap, and they did all the reprogramming themselves."<\/span><\/p> Patrick nodded slowly, half turned to the lifter pad, ready to head to the upper level. He stepped onto the pad and his mother started walking away before he spoke up, "Which...which singer?"<\/span><\/p> His mother waved a hand, "One of them, I'm not sure..I just know you mentioned the band before; Armando Las Angeles, or something."<\/span><\/p> Patrick taps the pad with his foot and it begins to raise, and he tries to think of what band his mother was talking about. He stepped off on the second floor and watched monotonously as his door slid open when it recognised his presence. Walking in and setting his laptop bag down, he didn't notice the thing sitting very still on his bed. When Patrick turned around and gasped loudly out of shock, the robot just smiled and spoke.<\/span><\/p> "Hey dude, my name's Pete. Your mom's a nice lady. Her name is Patricia."<\/span><\/p> Patrick stood all his five feet almost four inches and stared at the thing on his bed. It looked nothing like any of the generic androids he was used to seeing advertised, which was a relief. Patrick really did want to call it a person, it looked just like the real thing, sounded like it too. Whoever had ordered him must have spent a lot of money on it. Tanned snythoskin, dark almost curly hair slightly longer than what Patrick remembers of his pictures, a couple tattoos. Very custom, and it seemed odd that someone would sell it.<\/span><\/p> "How old are you? I'm only 2, even though I'm built to look 21." The bot grinned widely, exposing perfect white teeth, it seemed almost amused at being a two year old model of something that was being reproduced a new version each week.<\/span><\/p> "Sixteen," Patrick responded, " but my birthday's coming up."<\/span><\/p> "I love birthdays. I love balloons, and music, and clowns. Do you like those things?"<\/span><\/p> "Uhh..."<\/span><\/p> "I alphabetized your music collection and reorganised your clothing by color and made your bed and did you know you had a sock under your bed, it was very dirty, you're flushed are you feeling well?"<\/span><\/p> "Pete..." Patrick said cautiously.<\/span><\/p> "That's my name, don't wear it out. Did you know I was made after this guy from a band? I can sing just like him, it's cool wanna hear?"<\/span><\/p> "Do you- can you just shut up?" Patrick managed to say, a little too loudly, but hopefully Pete heard it over his own voice.<\/span><\/p> "Sorry, Master Patrick." Patrick blushed, opening and closing his mouth without words, feeling like a fish, so he stopped. Pete had shut up, that was the important part. He took his laptop out of it's case and set it on his desk, preparing to do the assignments he hadn't finished in class.<\/span><\/p> "Homework?" Patrick looked over at Pete, who was kicking his dangling legs against the bed. Pete was shorter than Patrick had expected. Patrick just nods in his direction, he doesn't see how Pete's eyes glow for a moment, scanning the laptop. "Your computer has a Trojan, and the answers to your math homework are 1.222844, the constraints and the profit function, f(x) = 1\/x, undefined variables, and x equals 3, 45, and negative 8."<\/span><\/p> "That's cheating." Patrick says, watching the voice command of his laptop kick in and fill out his homework before he can stop it. Pete just shrugs happily.<\/span><\/p> "You have a nice guitar."<\/span><\/p> "Thanks..." Patrick responds, pretending to be checking if Pete's answers were right, they are.<\/span><\/p> "I tuned it for you."<\/span><\/p> "YOU TOUCHED BETSY?" Patrick is officially angry with this bot, and does not blame it's previous owner for getting rid of it.<\/span><\/p> "Sorry, Master Patrick."<\/span><\/p> "Hey, don't..j-just..like..Just Patrick, okay?"<\/span><\/p> "Okay." There was quiet while Patrick checked his messages, nothing but spam. "Episode IV was my favorite."<\/span><\/p> "What?" Patrick asked turning towards Pete.<\/span><\/p> "A New Hope...Star Wars." Patrick's eyes lit up at that, none of the weird scanning electronics lighting though, just the regular emotional response type.<\/span><\/p> "Episode V was so better though." Patrick responded smiling slightly, Pete smiled back and accessed his files on opinions and debate. "Mom, I'm almost 17...bedtime, really? Where's Pete gonna stay?"<\/span><\/p> "Yes, really. I'm sure he can just go on standby and stand in the corner or something right?"<\/span><\/p> That sounded odd to Patrick after the conversation he and Pete had shared. Pete however just replied politely, saying that'd work fine, and Patrick's mom left for her own room. Pete stood from the bed for the first time since Patrick had seen him and asked which corner Patrick wanted him in.<\/span><\/p> "Uhh...whichever you want?" Pete chose the one on the far side of the room, near the closet hutch. And stood there, eyes open, not blinking. "You're...You're not really on right now right?" Patrick asked, feeling paranoid in the quiet before slipping a shirt over his head and pulling the perfectly made covers back from his bed.<\/span><\/p> "I was running updates still."<\/span><\/p> "Oh." Patrick blushed again, Pete had seen him mostly naked, great.<\/span><\/p> "You're self conscious about your body?" Patrick responded back with a quiet 'yes'. "That's not cool dude, you aren't ugly. I'd even say you were cute."<\/span><\/p> Patrick pondered Pete's overuse of the word 'dude' and tried to bury his face further into his pillow so Pete wouldn't see how red he was after being called 'cute'.<\/span><\/p> "Goodnight, Mas- Patrick." Patrick mumbled something back, and let himself drift off, thinking about it being his birthday tomorrow, and sleeping in.<\/span><\/p> Part 2<\/a><\/span><\/p> <\/span><\/p> <\/span><\/p><\/a> <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:19641","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/19641.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=19641"}}],"title":"A Fever You Can Sweat Out","published":"2011-01-15T03:28:35Z","updated":"2011-10-13T08:18:11Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"pants"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"asdfghjkl"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"Title: A Fever You Can<\/em> Sweat Out The sweat, the high, the deafness. Some of Pete's favorite things about after show rituals. Along with these things come groupies, and parties with free alcohol and if you're lucky a person willing to let you use their shower.<\/p> The show tonight? Awesome. Pete tells everyone, and Joe rolls his eyes and Andy shrugs modestly. Patrick points out how Pete completely forgot the bridge to Pros and Cons. Which wasn't "awesome<\/em>" at all.<\/p> "Oh, come on dude, you're just jealous cause you want my body." Pete counters, Joe snorts loudly from where he's trying to wind a cord up before shoving it in with his guitar.<\/p> "Fuck you." Patrick practically snarled, flipping the latches shut on his case, they clack loudly.<\/p> "Ahh, c'mon Lunchbox, you haven't even bought me dinner yet!" Patrick goes out of his way to hit Pete with his guitar, twice, walking by to the van. Andy shrugs at Pete's raised eyebrows and throws his sweaty shirt at him before bolting off after Patrick.<\/p> "Ahh, what the fu-HURLEY!" Pete throws the shirt down, Andy's loss, and chases after him.<\/p> ____________<\/p> "We're goin' to a party, gonna party hard! WOO!" A chorus of this ungodly diddy, Pete's concoction, floats through the van again. Someone had stopped Joe before the show with an address and a promise of the best chronic he'd ever smoke. Pete was happy because she was hot.<\/p> Pete however, was not happy, that Patrick (golden voiced angel of Glenview) wasn't singing along with him and Joe and Korean Tom Cruise. No, Andy wasn't singing, he was upset with Pete and the whole straight edge thing really puts a downer on parties. So, Andy has a reason for being a buzzkill, but Patrick. Well, Patrick should be singing, and exited.<\/p> He's what, 17? No way, at all, he should not be happy right now. Party, girls, booze, pot, NO ADULT SUPERVISION!<\/p> "You're 23 Pete, that's adult." A collective contradictory laugh filled the bus, even from Pete himself, "...Legally." Patrick added as an afterthought. "Look, I just..I don't feel...good?"<\/p> "Not good physically or not good emotionally because if you're feeling homesick again I'll call Patricia and have her tell you that she loves you."<\/p> "Pete, I don't need you to get my mom to-Why do you have my mom's number?"<\/p> "In case I need to call her and have her tell you you're loved." There's an awkward pause in conversation, Joe and Andy are arguing about Batman versus Spiderman again, and KTC is threatening to turn this van around if they don't stop.<\/p> "I just...I might be coming down with something an-"<\/p> "OH SHIT, Do we need to nix the party and go to the hospital because I swear to god if you lose your voice OR IF YOU GET SICK AND DIE AND THEN PATRICIA WON'T LET ME CALL HER ANYMORE!"<\/p> "PETE!"<\/p> "WHAT!?"<\/p> "STOP FUCKING- Stop fucking yelling, okay? It's like...fever, stomach thing...I'll be fine, I'll just take a Tums and sleep it off, sweat it out."<\/p> Pete frowned, "Dude, you sure? I could...like stick behind and take care of you."<\/p> Patrick rolled his eyes, "I'll be fine, really."<\/p> Pete made to reply, but it was cut short when Joe sang out, "STOP! Party time!"<\/p> The van did come to a halt in front of a fairly nice two story, all lights on, front door propped open, loud music echoing into the dimly lit street. Andy replied, "Keep your day job, Joe...I think I'm gonna stay back too."<\/p> "No!" Everyone turned to Patrick, who looked like he might be blushing in the half light of the van, "I just..uhm...headache too maybe, an-"<\/p> "C'mon Andy, loosen up...The girl who invited us was totally checkin you out." Joe speaks up. Pete looked affronted.<\/p> "Nuh-uh! She was all about my jeans!" Pete said, sliding the door open. Andy ended up getting out to follow the others up to the house, responding back, "She must be a lesbian then."<\/p> "Girly jeans!" Joe shouts afterward.<\/p> Patrick hears Pete's answer of 'Dick!' <\/em>and what sounds like Joe being shoved to the ground, Patrick can't see, he's too busy digging through one of his bags. Patrick knows he brought it with him, a gag gift of sorts from when he told Pete that he was probably bisexual, (because everyone is really born with the ability to be bisexual, it's society that tells us it's wrong). Of course, it was something Pete thought would make a great joke of gifting him a, very realistic, dildo for his birthday. It wasn't really that funny.<\/p> Patrick hadn't really thought about gay sex, that way, until the gift. He'd heard about prostate stimulation though, so, maybe,<\/em> when he got the gift he had tried that. It really wasn't that unpleasant. He just, he'd never used the toy before, and for some reason he brought it with him in case. (He brought a lot of in case things with him: shower cap, deck of cards, 2\/3 of his CD collection and about 5 more hats than he'll end up wearing).<\/p> The thing is, he'd been thinking about it lately. He'd also been pretty sexually frustrated since the girl that was hitting on him not only left him in the middle of a handjob, but also left him for Pete. Pete, dammit, Pete got him into this mess, the least he could do was use something Pete gave him to get himself out of it. He finally grasped the synthetic hardness, it was weird, room temperature, but Patrick's hand was sweaty and slightly shaky.<\/p> He tossed it unthinkingly onto the pallet of sleeping bags and egg crate foam in the back of the van while trying to find the lube. He didn't bring lube surprisingly, Pete made him go into a convenience store and buy it, with condoms, and tell the cashier that he was in a band. He found the barely used bottle, (seriously, getting uninterrupted jerk off time was like finding a herd of unicorns) and clambered over the back seat, landing awkwardly on his elbow.<\/p> Patrick huffed and started toeing off his shoes, casually un-buttoning his jeans and pushing them down until he could kick them off too. He was already pretty hard, every time he realizes that he's really doing this he blushes to himself and a low warmth fills his stomach.<\/p> He grabs the small bottle and the toy and makes himself comfortable. Half propped up on a rolled sleeping bag, a wadded up blanket near him in case he needs to elevate his hips or something. He's a little over and under-prepared. He palms himself through his boxers before shoving them down impatiently, and uncapping the lube to wet his hand, grabbing himself and stroking slowly, lazily.<\/p> He might be stalling this a bit. He still remembers how weird his fingers felt up there, but he won't talk himself out of this again. He let's go of his dick, re-opening the lube and pouring more, this time into his left palm. He scoots down some, the cool nylon of the sleeping bag making him slip a little too low and he has to re-adjust (wasting time yeah, every time<\/em>, Patrick thinks errantly).<\/p> Patrick drags two fingers through the pool of cool slick before lifting his legs up and pressing one against himself. The lube lets it slide in too easy, and Patrick barely feels the strange sting or the automatic response of clamping down. It's just one finger though, he works it slowly in and out, reveling in the way the wetness feels before adding a second. This time the response is there, and it stings a bit. In a good way, Patrick decides, as the fingers slip further and almost touch that spot.<\/em><\/p> Patrick fingers himself, slowly building to a moderate pace, stretching his fingers to stretch the tight muscles of his ass. He lightly grips himself with his other hand, sighing contently, starting to lose himself in the complacent rhythm.<\/p> He cracks a heavily lidded eye open to glance at the dildo. Laying there, all seemingly harmless. Gnawing on his bottom lip, Patrick lets go of himself and pulls his fingers away, feeling empty from it. He reaches for the toy, holding the base of it with one hand, pouring more lube onto it with his other before stroking it to coat it evenly. Patrick breathes deeply before scooting further down and propping his ass up on the blanket wad, pulling his knees up to his chest almost.<\/p> "Just do this, just do it, relax<\/em>." He mutters to himself, pressing the tip to his hole. Pushing the head in he feels confident that this is just fine, but he tries to push in more, and he freaks out and pulls it out completely, cursing himself. He takes another deep breathe and goes for it again, he almost wants to shout triumphantly when he feels the weird burn and slide going deeper this time.<\/p> He gets it halfway in before he decides 'that's good enough, I'll start from here', and pulls it almost all out again. It's really not that bad, he keeps telling himself. He's almost gone soft, but all in all it doesn't feel like he's dying or being split in half. He keeps slowly dragging it in and out, letting it slip deeper each time.<\/p> It starts brushing against his prostate, and Patrick does let out a small, "Fuck yeah!" <\/em>when he realises he's really doing this, doing it right anyway. He starts letting himself move the toy faster, almost faster than he was working his fingers earlier. He's got this great angle that gives him a burst of pleasure every time he pulls the toy back and before he can help it he's got a hand around himself again. But he's still more focused on the burning, fever inducing feeling that's making him roll his hips and clamp intentionally to feel it harder, deeper, faster, more<\/em>.<\/p> He's so lost in it he barely notices the van door sliding open, he barely notices someone stumbling in and the door being shut, Pete's voice floating to him, "Okay, so, she was<\/em> checking Andy out and since I'm not getting laid I though I'd come check on..on-o-ono-on- uhhm."<\/p> Patrick opened his eyes, frozen in fear, for some reason he didn't let go of himself or the toy inside him. Just layed there, exposed, touching himself. He felt like saying, "Oh hey Pete, how's the weather?" <\/em>or something equally stupid that would NOT help right now. Instead he just tries to slow his breathing and maybe stop blushing so hard and hey, why is Pete climbing over the backseat.<\/p> "Uhm, Pete?" Patrick's voice is a little scratchy and heavy on his tongue. Pete just stares at him again briefly before pulling his shirt off and unbuttoning his pants. "Whoa, whoa, hey..who said-uh...You didn't get invited to this party?"<\/p> Pete just smirked and shoved his girly jeans down further, no underwear, Patrick swallowed thickly, Pete answered, "I RSVP'd...", before twisting to lean up and kiss Patrick thoroughly. Leaving no part of his mouth un-licked and biting Patrick's plump bottom lip before leaning back. Patrick was speechless, but Pete was kind of a really good kisser.<\/p> Pete was also really good at leaving hickies, and he had his head bent down to start work on marring Patrick's pale skin. Patrick gasped lightly when he felt Pete's canines graze his pulse and couldn't really help but start moving his hands again. Pete trailed the hand, that wasn't helping brace himself from falling over, up Patrick's shirt, brushing his taut nipples and dragging his chipped and sharppied nails on their way back down. Pete let his fingers dance along one of Patrick's thighs while sucking on Patrick's collarbone. He grabbed the base of the toy the next time it was pulled out.<\/p> "Pete?" Patrick breathes out, voice shaky with want and worry. Pete just leans up to nuzzle Patrick's neck. Patrick grimaces slightly, thinking of how sweaty he must be right now, as Pete licks a strip of skin before he's pushing the toy back in. Rougher than Patrick had been and he makes a choked off noise. Pete nips his ear and along his jawline as he repeats his actions; pulling out slowly each time, letting the burn simmer before slamming the toy back in, making Patrick cry out.<\/p> "Pete<\/em>." Patrick manages again, almost pleading for something. Pete to go faster, to bite harder, something.<\/em> Pete just leans his mouth close to Patrick's ear again, whispering hoarsely.<\/p> "Let me fuck you?" It barely sounds like a question, and barely sounds like words when Pete shoves the dildo in again. Patrick makes a low keening noise in the back of his throat and Pete leans away, still moving his hand for Patrick.<\/p> Patrick looks to Pete in the darkness of the van, watching him rummage inside a bag. It's not even his bag<\/em>, Patrick thinks, it's Joe's<\/em>. Pete finds whatever he's looking for, and leans back over Patrick to kiss him lightly, "I'm gonna stop this okay, but then I'm gonna fuck you, so it'll be okay, alright?"<\/p> Patrick just whimpers when the toy is pulled out completely, and strokes himself faster to make up for it, he feels just on the edge of close. Patrick watches as Pete rolls a condom onto his flushed cock, spreading lube on himself and it looks funnily like when Patrick lubed up the toy. Pete spreads Patrick's thighs wider to fit himself between them and rubs himself against Patrick's ready and quivering entrance. He looks like he's having a moment of clarity through his haze, but Patrick had smelled the alcohol and weed on him. Pete thought he should say something about taking advantage, but that only really works if Patrick is the one drunk, right?<\/p> Pete presses the head in, rolling his hips until he bottoms out and groans loudly next to Patrick's ear. Any other time and Patrick would have jerked away and given him the finger, but as is, he just moaned back. Pete felt different than the toy; for one, there was the fact that he had an entire body on top of him which wasn't as bad as it sounds, and then there was the fact that he could feel Pete pulsing inside him, the warmth, it made it real.<\/p> Pete braced his arms on the sides of Patrick's head before rolling his hips again, cursing something about Patrick and how tight he felt. Pete was going too slow, far too slow and Patrick, with some effort, lifted his hips and pushed against Pete's on the next slow roll. Pete smirked again, and brought his hands down to grab Patrick's slightly fleshy hips, digging his fingers into the pale softness before fucking him hard.<\/p> So hard that, had Patrick been wearing a hat, it would have fallen off or something, really Patrick wasn't quite up to making hat analogies right now. The harsh smack that sounded each time Pete's hips thrusted forward was almost covered by the noises Patrick was making. Strangled gasps and whimpers that almost turned to yelps when Pete twisted his hips and began hitting his prostate dead on.<\/p> Patrick's hand fisted himself again, pumping hard and fast, imagining what Pete's cock slipping in and out of him looked like and he cried out, maybe Pete's name or a curse, he can't remember. His orgasm hit him hard and to the core, it shook him deep and was definitely going in his top ten. He barely registered Pete moaning his name a little too theatrically before collapsing onto Patrick.<\/p> Patrick mumbled something against Pete's shoulder, so Pete pulled out a bit roughly and rolled over to lay between Patrick and a precarious stack of luggage. "Hmm?"<\/p> "I said, you smell bad." Patrick muttered in response, feeling a little bit the consistency of over-cooked pudding. Pete's arm flopped over onto Patrick's stomach in retaliation.<\/p> "You smell too." They lapsed in the silence of the afterglow, the sounds of a party still raging on across the street.<\/p> "Hey, Pete?" Patrick asked, almost wincing at how his voiced sliced the quiet. Pete grunted softly in response. "We're not...like, this was weird and-"<\/p> "I figure, I don't meet your eyes tomorrow. I feel really bad about taking your innocence, in about a week I finally talk to you again and then we can have sex all the time..." Pete's words sounded carefully chosen, though slurred ever so slightly. Patrick couldn't help the bubbly laughter that built up and burst forth from him, Pete kind of couldn't help his responding grin.<\/p> "You didn't have to call her that though, I'm sure she didn't know you were Jewish<\/em>." Andy and Joe's voices were barely audible, however faintly growing closer.<\/p> A slew of 'shit'<\/em>s and 'goddammit<\/em>'s and 'those are my pants, Pete!'<\/em> were thrown about in a frenzy to get dressed and look presentable. Patrick was doing up his jeans and Pete was trying to slide his shirt on, slipping and falling from the slippery sleeping bag fabric.<\/p> The van door slid open and Andy peered over into the backseat to see a strangely cuddled Pete and Patrick. He just looked away and climbed the rest of the way into the van. Joe followed shortly, after having argued that he can't drive, he's baked and tired.<\/p> Pete hopped over the backseat calling 'Shotgun!'<\/em> and Patrick tried not to wince as he slid over to sit next to Andy.<\/p> "You feelin better? I remembered this really cool vegan trick for fevers-"<\/p> "No, it's cool...I just had to sweat it out." Patrick replied watching Pete glance back at him as he pushed his headphones over his ears.<\/p> Somewhere in between a chorus and a verse he heard Joe shouting from the back of the van, "Dude, is this a fuckin used<\/em> condom? DUDE, IS THAT A FUCKIN DILDO<\/em> WHAT THE FUCK!? THERE'S GIZ ON MY BLANKET!"<\/p> Pete just laughed loudly and yelled for Joe to 'suck it up'<\/em>. "I'm not sucking anything of yours, Wentz."<\/p> It was followed by more laughter, and Patrick letting himself drift off, face pressed against the window, hoping Joe doesn't throw the toy out of the van on the highway. Then thinking that, he won't need it in a week anyway.<\/p><\/a> <\/p>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:19352","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/19352.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=19352"}}],"title":"What Brothers Do","published":"2011-01-11T09:59:34Z","updated":"2011-04-22T09:58:10Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"mikeyway"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"mcr"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"geetard"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"waycest"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}}],"content":" Title<\/u><\/strong>: What Brothers Do <\/p>Mikey was 10 the first time anything sexual happened with his brother. Well, not really<\/em>; he was 10 when he walked into his brother's room to find him on his bed with a hand down his pants. Title<\/u><\/strong>: All I Want For Christmas Is You
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Halloween dance, Patrick's being forced to go...but someone saves him and takes to a party...and things.
A\/N: Shitty title is shitty.
\n
\n
\n
\nSomeone who knows someone who works for yearbook who is dating a girl in the council decided it'd be cool to have a Halloween dance to raise money and have girls dress slutty on school property. Unfortunately everyone and their moms agreed on the idea. Even Patrick's mom who should really stop going to PTA meetings and forcing Patrick to do stupid school things because she nominates herself chaperone.
\n
Which this time was no different. Patrick doesn't mind Halloween, he loves candy, the free kind, but it's a costume dance and he hasn't dressed up since he was 10 and being an awkward 16 year old who has enough trouble with even getting a reputation much less soiling one, he doesn't want to become 'the kid that's mom dressed him like a cowboy and made him dance with her at school'. No, in fact he cringes deeply at the idea, but he knows there is no way out of going. So he has to think of a costume, one his mom will agree with and that he won't have to just...kill himself over.
\n
He asks his friend Joe about his costume and Joe tells him he's gonna dress like Slash, which is basically the best idea Patrick would never have come up with. Joe is also going to the dance with his girlfriend of two months, Marie, and she's funny and nice and she's dressing like a groupie. Patrick has yet to hear a female costume that didn't sound slutty by default.
\n
Well, Greta said she was going as a hippie, but he's heard about hippies from his mom and knows better than to think they're all sunshine and flowers. Either way, Patrick felt fucked, lacking a costume idea long enough for his mom to jump in and add ideas; 'Cowboy' No, 'Clown' No, 'Vampire' Hell no. It wasn't until a few days later when his mom threw a cape and a small black mask at him and said, "You're going as Zorro." That it was decided.
\n
Which...okay, Zorro isn't cowboy or god forbid a vampire. He's heard every guy that's not Joe say they're being vampires, Bill, Brendon, Joe's stoner friend Travis, everyone really. So a cape and a mask and a hat he hadn't seen his mom put down weren't as bad as fangs, fake blood and white paste makeup.
\n
The dance was the weekend before the actual holiday and his mom spent all day getting her classic witch costume together. "You don't have to dress up mom." "Of course I do! Come on, get in the spirit for once." Patrick just sighed and put on a black shirt and some dark jeans, fastening the cape multiple times before it didn't look stupid (ha). After he snapped the mask on and pulled the hat down he walked out into the kitchen where his mom was filling little goodie bags and stopped when he entered.
\n
"Oh, forgot to give you this, "She reached down and handed Patrick a fake sword and it's sheath and he groaned, "Just clip it on your belt, and honey do you want me to do the mustache?"
\n
"Mustache?"
\n
"Yeah, Zorro had the pencil thin-"
\n
"Mom no."
\n
"C'mon, don't you wanna look sexy like Antonio Banderas?"
\n
"No, and I'm pretty sure he was the first Zorro who didn't have a mustache." His mom just shrugged it off and asked.
\n
"So are you meeting your date there?"
\n
"I don't have a date?"
\n
"Oh..." She looked up from where she had been placing fake vampire teeth inside cellophane bags, looking like maybe it just hit her Patrick didn't want to go or something, but the look passed and she plopped the last pair of teeth into the last bag.
\n
They got there early and Patrick stood in the corner by the sound booth, flipping through the booklet of songs that they had and finding little to nothing of interest. At around 7pm some people showed up, a couple vampires, a Spiderman, a girl in a miniskirt and animal ears. After 7:30 most of the people he knew were going were there, Joe looked awesome but the fact that he'd brought a real guitar with him was drawing all sorts of attention and he had to get Patrick to go get his mom's key and put it in their car for safe keeping.
\n
The guitar kept awkwardly bumping against his sword and catching his cape and it was kind of cold now that the sun had set and he instantly regretted not wearing a longer sleeved shirt. After locking the guitar safely inside he heard someone walking up behind him, he turned and no one was there, just the dull thrum of crappy music and the flicker of parking lot lights.
\n
"Hey."
\n
Patrick jumped back into the car and his hat fell off, which he promptly picked up and looked at the person standing next to him. It was some guy he'd seen around, upperclassman, possibly a jock he can't remember, but he was definitely going for the whole 'tortured emo vampire look'.
\n
Patrick jammed his hat back on, cape swishing awkward in the wind and replied," Uhh, hi?"
\n
"Is that yours?" Patrick was confused.
\n
"My...the hat?"
\n
The guy laughed, "No the guitar dude, it's nice."
\n
"Oh, uh...no it's my friend Joe's."
\n
"Trohman?" The guy asking tentatively.
\n
"Uhh.yeah..."
\n
"I know him, he's cool." the guy paused for a second before adding, "Oh, and I'm Pete and I vant to suck yur bluuud!" Pete definitely put on the whole cliched Transylvanian accent and Patrick kind of almost laughed. Then the awkward silence set in and Pete shrugged, "Uhh..vampire..y'know..."
\n
"Oh, yeah totally, you look cool." Which was a weird thing for Patrick to say, because vampires are stupid, but Pete seemed nice and Patrick doesn't know. Pete smiled again, and showed off the fake clip in teeth, the expensive kind.
\n
"Sooo...what brings the masked avenger to this school dance?"
\n
"Uhh...his mom."
\n
"Oh.."
\n
"Uhm, what brings a vampire here?" Patrick realizes how not smooth that was and how oddly phrased it was, and he hopes that Pete will leave or stop smiling at him.
\n
"Well, obviously all of the teenage virgins...and their blood." Patrick blushes at the word 'virgin' and tries to laugh.
\n
"You should..like, probably go inside and I should too before my mom comes looking for her keys or I say something stupid...again."
\n
"You haven't said anything stupid."
\n
"Well I look stupid."
\n
"Nah, you look hot like Antonio Banderas." Patrick laughed loudly, and trailed off with another bloom of red on his cheeks.
\n
"If you want we could go to this party that I'm supposed to be at, I just stopped by to see if anyone wanted to go, because going to a party alone is lame."
\n
If going alone was lame, not going was twice as lame and Patrick didn't dare think of how lame it was to go to a school dance with your mom.
\n
"Uhm..."
\n
"I mean, you seem cool, and I swear I saw you rockin a Bowie t-shirt the other day."
\n
"You like Bowie?"
\n
"Who doesn't, Ziggy was my second costume choice...but I can't pull off spandex and red hair. So, you wanna go?"
\n
Pete looked strangely hopeful and Patrick glanced at his mom's keys and said, "Give me like 5 minutes."
\n
Patrick ran back inside, found his mom scolding Brendon about eating all of the cupcakes and took a deep breath, "Hey mom."
\n
"Oh, there you are, what were you doing? I was about to have to come find you."
\n
"I was talking to a friend, and he asked if I wanted to go to this party an-"
\n
His mom took her keys back as he spoke and cut him off, "Party? Patrick, this is a party, we have dancing and music and food and friends, what more do you need to have a party?"
\n
Patrick looked around and bit his lip thinking, "I...mom, I just really want to go an-"
\n
"Well, where is the party?"
\n
"I...don't know?"
\n
"Who's the friend you're going with then, Joe?"
\n
"No, Pete."
\n
"Pete."
\n
"Yeah..." Patrick trailed off, knowing his mom didn't really pay attention to the peope he talked about and only ever knew to ask 'Joe'.
\n
"Patrick, I'm not going to let you go with someone I don't know toa party that is god knows where."
\n
"It's close by, and I'll have my cell phone and I'll be back before the dance is over I swear."
She huffed at him, looking contemplative. "I'll also have this, " Patrick smiled and jokingly took out the plastic word, "I'll be fine mom, I'm 16."
\n
"Yeah..you are just 16." Patrick rolled his eyes. "Look, if you really don't want to be here....then...fine, go, but I am going to call you and check in and if you don't answer I'm calling the cops, got it."
\n
Patrick's eyes widened and he nodded, "Yes okay, don't want cops, so I got it."
\n
Patrick turned to leave, his stomach feeling like it had dropped out when his mom called, "How are you getting there?"
\n
"Pete's driving."
\n
"So he's already got his license huh?" There was something in her voice that sounded amused, but it could have been him straining over the distance and the music, Patrick shrugged, and his mom just smiled tiredly and shooed him off.
\n
Patrick sheathed the fake sword as he quickly went back out, looking around for Pete and finding no one. Patrick belatedly realized that, 'no, why would someone like him just invite him to a party'. Patrick hadn't gone to a party in his entire life, why now? He was just about to turn back in when a barreling force knocked him over, later found to be Pete, laughing and shouting a combination of 'RAAARRHH!' and 'Oh my god YOUR FACE!'.
\n
Patrick just stood up and glared and turned to go back inside when Pete jumped and caught his wrist, "Hey no, let's go right?"
\n
"Wait, you're not just pranking me?"
\n
"No...?"
\n
Patrick just hoped for the best and got into Pete's car. They talked on the way there, about how Pete was on the soccer team, and how he loved Halloween and last year he was Darth Vader and asked Patrick about band when Patrick mentioned being able to play the imperial march on trumpet (almost). They actually had a lot in common and Patrick wondered why they hadn't talked before, and then he saw the highway sign that said they were a mile from Chicago, and then Patrick started panicking.
\n
"Dude calm down."
\n
"Calm down? We just took a 20 minute drive away from the town my mom thinks I'm in and I don't even know you, what if you're gonna strand me and some hobo is gonna kill me."
\n
"Dude, "Pete said slower, looking towards him, "seriously, calm the fuck down. You act like it's the first time you've broken a few rules."
\n
Patrick stayed quiet, "Oh..." Pete said, "So...right, sorry. Just try and have fun because hell, if you're gonna get in trouble might as well have fun in the meantime right?"
\n
Patrick sunk in his seat, cape bunching up, and it hit him, "Oh god, I'm dressed like a dumbass."
\n
"No man, Zorro is awesome and it's a costume party, don't worry, you'll have girls all over you in a second asking for your insignia."
\n
"Girls don't like me..."
\n
"Guys then, I don't know, whatever."
\n
Patrick didn't say anything else as they pulled up to an apartment complex with way too many cars parked outside. Pete probably ended up parking in an old little lady's parking spot for her apartment and she had just run to get some cat food and Patrick felt terrible but didn't say anything.
\n
Patrick followed Pete closely into the party, and if Patrick thought high school girls dressed slutty he was wrong, very wrong. Lingerie seems like enough of a costume here. There were fake cobwebs strung up in the small space, and another batch of vampires for Pete to compete with.
\n
Patrick checked his phone and looked up to see Pete was gone, and so Patrick went and found a chair in the kitchen and sat. Enduring strange looks from a pirate and a...hooker, Patrick didn't know. He was offered a beer a few times by someone who introduced himself as Gabanti, Fortuneteller Extraordinaire, which he kept turning down. At around 8:30 his mom called and he wound up in the bathroom so it was quiet enough to answer her. She just asked if he was fine and having fun and asked how Pete was and told him to be home before 10pm, and he just rushed her through and reassured her and finally hung up, walking out to bump into Pete.
\n
Pete who had obviously been taking the offer for drinks and god knows what, but he wasn't so bad off, Patrick guessed.
\n
"Patrick! Where've you been?"
\n
"Kitchen, you?"
\n
"Oh, around." Pete shrugs and and Patrick sighs.
\n
"So I'm guessing you can't drive right now."
\n
"Well, we're not leaving right now, so I don't see why it matters. C'mon, get a drink, get a girl and have some fun."
\n
"I don't want want to drink or grab a girl so-"
\n
"Guy, like I said, whatever. Have you met Gerard? He's cute, he'd like you c'mon." Pete was tugging at Patrick's arm, and he was winning the battle of pulling him towards the creepiest looking guys he'd seen there. So he did what he had to do, he pulled out his fake sword and hit Pete with it until he let go.
\n
"Jesus, what the hell dude, I thought you were cool."
\n
"I'm not cool Pete, I'm lame and I'm not having fun, can I just go sit in your car or something?"
\n
"No, you're gonna have fun dammit." Patrick shrugged and Pete folded his arms with a determined look before walking off and Patrick sighed, thinking he was out of the clear. However Pete came back with 'Gabanti', "Patrick, this is Gabe, he's awesome and together we're going to make you have fun."
\n
"We've met." Gabe said smiling, "I sensed a disturbance in his force, what's up little bro?"
\n
Patrick shrugged. "He's never been to a party and he thinks his mom is going to kill him." Pete filled in.
\n
"Well, I know what to do."
\n
"What oh magnificent Gabanti?" Pete countered.
\n
"Beer and dancing!" Pete grinned as Gabe shoved an open can into Patrick's hands and ran over to put Thriller on. Patrick held the beer and tried not to be excited about Michael Jackson. Pete took the can and pushed it into his face and Patrick fought him away. Pete sighed and gave up, took a sip and set it down, pulling Patrick towards the living room where everyone had started trying to dance along.
\n
Pete actually knew the moves and he looked ridiculous, and so did everyone else so maybe Patrick danced a little bit, more than he would have if he'd stayed at the dance. Pete didn't drink anymore as the night progressed but Patrick sort of did, he had a beer and he drank something Gabe had named a Cobra Bomber, which almost made him throw up. Around 9:30, Patrick got nervous through his haze and told Pete his mom wanted him home. Pete reluctantly said goodbye to everyone and led a stumbling Patrick to his car.
\n
Patrick was giggly and his hat was around his neck, holding on by it's string, he'd lost is sword sometime earlier but he didn't care, and Pete was smiling and showing off his fangs every time Patrick slipped and had to have Pete catch him. He slipped a lot.
\n
Pete got in the car, not starting it right away, "So, did we have fun?"
\n
Patrick smiled and replied, "Do those fangs hurt?"
\n
"Uh, to wear? Not really."
\n
"No I meant if you bit me, would it hurt....I wanna be a vampire Pete. They're so cool."
\n
Pete laughed a little awkwardly and Patrick scooted closer. "I did have fun but I never got a girl..or a guy whatever." Patrick slurred a bit and blinked slowly, thinking the words properly over and over inside his head.
\n
Pete laughed lightly, but not mockingly, "So...if I told you that I thought you were adorable and kinda wanted to kiss you I might not be turned down?"
\n
"No you wouldn't be, but I'm not adorable, I'm sexy like Antonio Banderas." Patrick smirked.
\n
Pete smirked back and reached out to lift Patrick's mask off, dropping it in the seat, then he reached to take his fangs out and Patrick pulled his hand away and leaned in clumsily. He's kissed a girl before, a girl named Susan back in middle school, who Joe told him would kiss any guy for 5 dollars and Patrick ended up giving her 7. Either way, Susan and Pete and being older and less sober made things weirder, but nice and eventually Pete got the idea to y'know open his mouth. And use his tongue and make Patrick make this weird noise when Pete bit down on his lower lip, Patrick pulled away a little breathless. Pete looked worried.
\n
"Are you okay?"
\n
"I'm awesome, why?"
\n
"Uhm, you're bleeding a bit."
\n
"Oh." Patrick reached up and pulled his fingers away from his lip with just the smallest bit of blood and he half shrugged, leaning back in as Pete leaned away.
\n
"Uhm....how about I get you home before your mom calls the cops on me or something."
Patrick sighed and nodded, stealing glances at Pete the drive home, sucking on his lower lip. Patrick was able to give directions back to his house where his mom's car was parked and the clock in Pete's car said it was about 15 after 10.
\n
"So we had fun, I think I turned you into a vampire and I think your mom just looked at us through the curtains."
\n
"I'm gonna go get grounded."
\n
"Yup....and y'know, if you ever get ungrounded, catch me at school or ask Joe for my number and we'll hang out again okay?"
\n
"Oh..okay, yeah." Patrick opened his door, and started to shift to get out when Pete caught his elbow, making him turn back and get caught in a rough press of lips. Pete did this weird swirl with his tongue that Patrick thought was awesome and tried to copy and failed and then Pete lightly bit his lip again, letting the fake teeth scrape more than pierce this time, before pulling back.
\n
"Happy Halloween dude."
\n
Patrick nodded and gave a dopey smile, climbing out of the car after grabbing his mask. He watched Pete drive off before going inside and facing his doom. But it was kind of worth it and if anything Patrick likes vampires again.
\n"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:23467","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/23467.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=23467"}}],"title":"Words","published":"2011-07-29T12:02:26Z","updated":"2011-07-29T12:02:26Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}}],"content":"Title: Words
Summary: Pete has new words, and they're for Patrick.
Rated: PG
"I have new words." A pause, waiting for recognition or realization anything and it never comes, just silent patience that never amounts to anything, "They're not for Bebe."
"Oh." And that's all that comes back through the tinny phone speaker, 'oh', monotone and just on the edge of 'I still have no idea what you're talking about'. Pete sighs, he hates being straight-forward.
"I couldn't show them to her, they're not for her..to sing, y'know? They, " Pete pauses and waits, just a little too long and yet Patrick says nothing, " ...They remind me of Fall Out Boy."
And Pete thinks that sounds ridiculous, he's had fans give him their own lyrics through the years under the same impression, 'they sound like fall out boy', 'its like you possessed me to write this'. So Pete rephrases, "They are Fall Out Boy lyrics."
And then it's Patrick's turn to sigh, "That's...great Pete?" Which isn't as bad as Pete had expected and it isn't as wonderful as Pete had expected and Pete really needs to stop having expectations. Especially with Patrick, who'll never change.
"Pete, I'm about to be on tour, I'm about to put an album out." Patrick's tone slides easily on the scale from disdain to excitement.
"I know, I can't wait-"
"Then you understand right?"
"But I-"
"I don't have time for it right now, I don't have any 'Fall Out Boy' music...maybe you should tell Joe, go work on stuff with him." Which is a pretty low blow considering how well Patrick is supposed to know Pete. How they always work on the song together first. How Patrick is the only person he lets use his words. But then Pete remembers how he lets Bebe use his words. The not-so-good ones, the more nonsense than real meaning lyrics, the ones he wrote purposefully to be lyrics. But what he has for Patrick isn't that, it was a letter originally, started that way. He started a letter to Ashlee, then he started it over and tried to write one to his son for posterity, they both ended up sounding like suicide notes. Then there were the journals he'd been writing in a moleskin. Words that Patrick needed to help him make sense of, things that he needed him to understand like with everything else that he understands about Pete.
And Pete realizes he's been silent again, and he realizes that Patrick hadn't noticed or doesn't care, so he just listens to Patrick's end a bit longer. He thinks he hears a car pass by, someone talking, something reminiscent of dropping a light bulb just light enough that it bounces and doesn't shatter.
"I wrote them for you."
"Pete, please..." Patrick sounds begging for something and Pete's stomach clenches, " I get it, they're for me, they're for Fob, but that's not what our lives are doing right now...save it, we'll work on it later but I really have to go right now, okay?"
"I-Yeah, sure okay. By-"
"Okay bye." Patrick cuts him off in a rush, and Pete hears another person talking and the phone go crackly and silent.
Pete hangs up and looks at the scattered papers and pens and his ballpoint ink stained hands and wonders. He wrote the words and they're for Patrick, they're for his best friend. They're for the short kid that wears a hat. They're for the awkward and shy man that likes jean jackets and wore yellow pants because he thought they looked cool. The dude that a would rather spend a day trying to write a song with Pete than going to an interview alone. The guy that told him he didn't think he could do it alone, didn't think he'd hold up in an interview or a show without Pete there beside him.
And Pete's eyes sting, and he bites down on the inside of his cheek as his vision blurs and he feels the small oceans drip down his cheeks. He wipes them away and wants to look in a mirror to see if the ink on his fingers left stains under his eyes like when he used to wear eyeliner for weeks without taking it off.
He wants to crumple up his words, they're empty to him now, but he doesn't because that's something that kid used to do. The kid that wore boxer briefs outside a hotel at 5am to go pool hopping, the kid that wore the eyeliner, that thought being famous would fix all of his problems. And Pete realizes he's just a hollowed out version of what he used to be, the outside shell weathering away itself and he thinks Patrick took what he had. Patrick took that charisma, the ambition the recklessness. Left Pete with the bruised eye and the bad reputation.
And Pete laughs, because isn't this really what he's always wanted?<\/a>
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:22928","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/22928.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=22928"}}],"title":"PWP","published":"2011-03-05T08:26:31Z","updated":"2011-07-29T12:09:43Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"mikeyway"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"mcr"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"geetard"}}],"content":"Title: PWP (Pretentious Way Porn)
Pairing: Waycest
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sometimes Gerard and Mikey have sex
A\/N: Written because I received a badfic version of this and rewrote it because I could.
<\/p>
Pairing: peterick
Summary: after the show shit gets frisky
Rated: pg-13 tho
A\/N: I wrote this because there was a really bad FOB sexual frustration post and I had to do it, I just had to.<\/p>
Pairing: peterick
Summary: blowjob and bondage
Rated: nc-17<\/p>
Pairing: pete\/ashlee, pete\/patrick
Summary: one sided ranting
Rated: pg-13
I'll say 'I miss you', if that helps. I've said it a million times, or at least it feels that way. In songs, and mix tapes, and small nods and goodbyes. I see you more in pixels than in real life anymore.
We're on good terms. Well, you're on good terms. My marriage is falling apart and you're on the sideline. You don't cheer or boo, you sit boredly and wait for the game to end. I wish I could end it for you.
If I say that you'll look at me, I won't see you, but on the phone you'll pull a face I know too well. It's tired now, it used to be concern but now it's frustration and worry.
You worry that if I do anything the press will ask you questions. You have every right to not deal with me anymore. That's the whole reason we took a break. You don't need me.
You don't need me, you never did, and for the most part never will. You only need me to be quiet, and smile. You only need me to be a mannequin or a marionette.
You were my fixer. My band aid, my kiss it better. You would let me cry on your couch at 4am because no one else would listen. You would sing me to sleep on nights I was drunk and called you and begged you to. You were the angel on my shoulder to tell me when my ideas were dangerous and then the devil that watched me go through with them and laugh.
I never realised how much you did for me.
I never thanked you enough, and I won't ever be able to.
You were so happy when I got married. I wasn't going to be your problem anymore, I was hers. Only, she doesn't sing like you do, she doesn't have the same jokes, she doesn't make me smile no matter what. Which I guess is something I should have realised sooner. Before I married her, before she got pregnant, before I got drunk and ended up with her back in my hotel room.
But back to us; I miss you, I need you. You talk to me often enough and you ask, 'Didn't we just have dinner together yesterday?' and you know it was over a week ago. You try and manipulate me, make me think that we're together more often than not. I noticed you started screening your calls, soon you'll notice I stopped leaving messages.
The worst part is: I know I'll be alright. I know I'm fine without you around all the time. I functioned without you for years, but I'm stuck. I'm stuck in reverse right now, because if I go backwards everything else will follow, right?
It doesn't matter, but I miss you.<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:21358","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/21358.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=21358"}}],"title":"What are friends for?","published":"2011-02-22T03:15:18Z","updated":"2011-10-02T10:42:13Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"gabe saporta"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}}],"content":"Title: What are friends for?
Summary: blowjobs are fun
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: Gabe Saporta\/Pete Wentz
Gabe was confused as Pete climed and straddled his lap, planting bites and kisses along his neck and jaw. He leans away only to tug his shirt off, tossing it somewehre out of the way and working to pull Gabe's off too.
Gabe obliges, lifting his arms and letting the shirt slide away from his skin. Pete presses their lips together forcefully, there's nothing sweet about it, nothing slow or soft. Pete claws at Gabe's sides as their hips crash together, Gabe groaning and cupping Pete's ass to pull him closer.
Pete pushes at Gabe's chest to break the kiss, pulling back only to suck harshly at his pulse while belts are unbuckled and buttons popped. Gabe moans low as Pete bites down, scraping his teeth along the tan flesh as he simultaneously curls a hand around the base of Gabe's dick. He pumps him slowly, pulling back to watch the way Gabe's eyes flutter and his mouth drops open, before sliding out of his lap. Down to his knees, licking along Gabe's length, tongue wet and heavy.
Pete presses his tongue hot and flat against Gabe's tip, tasting him, before sucking him into hollowed cheeks. Gabe's noises grow louder and his hand slide through Pete's ironed hair, making it stand up in odd directions, but for once Pete doesn't care. He just takes Gabe further, slowly, swallowing around him when he can't take anymore.
Gabe's hips snap up, choking, making Pete's eyes water, but he just pulls up slowly before bobbing back down. Pete sets a rhythm, pressing back into Gabe's fingers then down, feeling him slide against the slightest brush of teeth. Gabe groans and pushes his hips up again though Pete's hands are gripping hard on his hips as a warning. Pete stops when Gabe bucks again, pulling back to just suck lightly around the head of his cock. Gabe's groans again and tugs at Pete's hair, trying to pull him down, but Pete doesn't move.
So Gabe does, pushing his hips, fucking up into Pete's mouth. Pete lets him, hollowing his cheeks and humming low around him. He lets Gabe's dick push in further and deeper, making him gag lightly, but Pete's eyes are blown and heavily lidded, watching Gabe unwind, enjoying the feel of his lips stretched to their fullest.
Pete lets a hand slip from Gabe's hips, snaking it into his own tight jeans and stroking himself quick and dirty, moaning again as Gabe slips just too far in. Gabe cries out, mumbled curses and a little Spanish, cumming deep inside Pete's throat. Pete pulls away on instinct, off-white streaks staining his lips and his cheek, but he just moans and let's himself spill over his hand. Not even coming down until he notices Gabe wiping lightly at his cheek with one of their shirts.
"Dude, is that my shirt?" Pete asks, voice rough and cracking slightly.
Gabe smirks down at him, "Probably."
Pete just huffs and leans his head on Gabe's knee, smiling up at him, "Dick."
"Asshole." Gabe answers without hesitation, and they just laugh because what are friends for?<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:21096","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/21096.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=21096"}}],"title":"Once You Wish Upon A Star 4\/?","published":"2011-01-20T12:01:14Z","updated":"2011-07-07T07:54:23Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"petebot"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"Title: When You Wish Upon A Star
Pairing: Peterick
Summary: Pete Wentz is a robot, it's the furture, Patrick Stump is a lonely music geek.
Rated: PG-13
A\/N: Longest part yet! -pops the cheap champagne-
Patrick wakes up later than he'd mean to. Pete's not around, so he quickly dresses and grabs his things before heading to see if his mom is still around to take him to school. She asks if he wants breakfast, that Pete must have been up before dawn to make it. Pete is in the kitchen, staring at everything but Patrick's direction. Patrick shakes his head politely and heads to the car.
"Weren't you going to take Pete?" His mother asks. Patrick stays quiet and shakes his head, "You sure?" she asks.
"School banned electronics, I'm sure he counts." The school only banned communicators, they never said anything about androids. Patrick's mom needn't know the difference, she just smiled slightly and started the car.
_____
School felt like hell, as usual. Classes, lunch, classes, band practice. He liked the last bit, he was in jazz band, drummer. They made him use these electronic plastic tap kits though, it dulled the fun a bit. No one talked to him, the teacher included, apart from a few nods in his direction of approval or whatever it may represent.
He caught the tram home. Pete was in the living room with his mom, Patrick forgot she gets off early on Mondays. She's having tea and Pete's talking animatedly, he even smiles and gestures Patrick to come sit with them. Playing dumb now apparently instead of avoidance, Patrick can work with that.
"I gave Pete directions to that theater I told you about, he looked up some information and they're having a show this weekend, on Saturday."
"There's gonna be a Ramones cover band and two local bands. One of them sounds pretty bad, but the other one has a really cool name: Carousel Mind." Pete looks like he's humming with excitement, and if Patrick thinks about it he probably is.
_______
The week slid by, Pete would casually try to converse here and there with Patrick but mostly let him alone. It was almost as if Pete didn't remember what he did, but Patrick was okay with that. Maybe he erased the memory for all Patrick could care ( or that's what he told himself). School came and went, and Pete even got Patrick to sit and play him something on his guitar. It was just a short thing he'd been working on and there were no words, but Pete said he'd recorded it anyway. Patrick was starting to wonder how much memory Pete had to keep files on him.
Friday night rolled around quicker than you could spell 'sesquipedalian' (one who uses big words), so...not fast enough. Pete was charging again, flicking through his files and Patrick had been absentmindedly strumming his guitar and waiting for something interesting to happen.
"So, do you want to go to the show tomorrow?" Pete asked, downsizing whatever he had been looking at.
"I don't know." Patrick answered, not really thinking about his reply as much as the feeling of strings sliding across the callousing pads of his fingers.
"Oh, it'd be fun to go. I wanna try crowd surfing."
Patrick mentally laughed at the idea of Pete trying to crowd surf, and he figured he might as well go. He'd wanted to see a live show before, he'd just never really had an offer to go to one where he wouldn't stand lonely in a corner.
"I guess, we could go...Mom wants me out of the house, so it'd make her happy."
Pete beamed so brightly Patrick's face momentarily got set on fire, even more so when Pete replied, "It's a date!" and went back to whatever he was doing.
Patrick accidentally started playing First Date by Blink-182 and really tried not to think about it. Pete said he was cute, twice, but he's programmed to like Patrick. Besides, the rules about human to robot relationships are pretty strict. No one underage, nothing more than physical relationships. People are still trying to get it legalized like gay marriage, but it's not so often that robots and humans fall in 'love'. Patrick doesn't believe in love too much, especially not with sentient androids that can be re-programmed just as easily to kill their lovers.
So basically, Patrick ignores whatever weird thoughts he has about Pete. He focuses on maybe what he'll wear tomorrow night, which hat would look nice with which outfit, if he should shower now or tomorrow before the show or if he should bother showing at all. Pete ends up saying that it was getting late, it was almost 12am.
Patrick nodded in agreement and put his guitar away, trying not to wonder if Pete was looking when he changed for bed. Pete was standing in his chosen corner, looking forlorn, so Patrick said, "I don't mind if you want to watch tv...or mess around on my computer, if you don't want to go on standby."
Pete said something that sounded like 'okay cool', but he ended up running standby anyway from the looks of it.
______
Patrick woke up sometime in the early afternoon or late morning, he wasn't sure. All he was aware of was his clothing flying into his face. And upon further inspection Pete standing at his closet, wearing nothing but boxers, repeatedly trying on his shirts before throwing them off again.
Patrick sat up sleepily yawning and rubbing his eyes, "Pete, what're you doing?"
Pete turned around with one of Patrick's favorite shirts pulled halfway down his torso and an expression thoroughly appropriate for the situation. Pete starts to try to explain several times until Patrick burrows back into his warm covers, discreetly not looking at Pete.
"If you want to borrow something why didn't you just ask?" Pete shrugged and pulled the shirt off, bending over and picking up the others that he'd tossed to the ground. Patrick closed his eyes and also didn't look at Pete's ass that was prominently sticking up in the air.
_____
At around 6 o'clock Patrick's stomach was a little fluttery and he kept re-adjusting his hat. He wasn't really paying attention to the emergency numbers his mom was lecturing him on that she'd also programmed twice over into his phone and kept reminding him that she'd searched around and she doesn't want him in any 'mosh pits'. She said it with an air of slight disgust and and an overtone of concern for her son.
Pete ended up in his own clothing again, but he was wearing a pair of Patrick's bright orange shoes because Patrick couldn't decide if he was going to wear them or the one's he had on, so Pete helped by wearing the other pair.
Patrick's mom went on to give the same information to Pete and he repeated everything back to her, so she stopped worrying out loud and let them go. They took the tram downtown (Pete kept inappropriately talking to people sitting near them and telling them excitedly that he and Patrick were going to a show) and found the old brick building between the swanky night clubs and seedy cafes.
It was just after 7, so the band was still setting up. Between him and Pete, Patrick noted there were only a handful of people there, and a few of them were probably band members. Pete pulled Patrick to the stage and made him stand there and awkwardly converse with The Pinheads and a couple guys from Carousel Mind. Patrick was upset to find out the Ramones cover band did holocore covers of old Ramones songs. Pete kept looking over at some tall guy at the bar, but when Patrick asked him about it he just shrugged.
The band was mostly set up and more people had actually shown up, so they started a bit early. Patrick couldn't quite decipher which song it was supposed to be, and the drummer was way off, but Pete still tried to start a mosh pit.
More people started showing up, and Patrick tried to stay near Pete who kept disappearing randomly and Patrick was starting to consider calling one of the emergency numbers. The last band, the one Pete had just been shouting to him about, Carousel, came on stage. Pete disappeared again.
He showed back up on top of an amp in the middle of a song and jumped into the crowd. Patrick had his eyes closed, pressed against the wall in the back of the room, truly afraid to see Pete hit the floor. There were no gasps of horror, just loud cheering and soon Pete was shouting at him again.
"Patrick! Patrick did you see me, that was awesome! You should try it!" Patrick's eyes flew open to see Pete, hair mussed, clothing dishevelled. Patrick thinks he should look sweaty and be breathing harsh, because even Patrick was doing that and he wasn't partaking in death-defying stunts, but robots don't do either of those things. "Come dance with me!"
Patrick kept trying to pull his arm away from Pete, but apparently Pete did have super strength (or Patrick was really weak, he preferred to assume it was the former). Patrick was pulled into the throng of people moving in no particular direction but seemingly to be going somewhere fast and dangerously.
Patrick didn't want to dance, he never danced, he was not even sure what to do besides flail. Pete though, Pete just pulled him close and moved his hips to the back beat of the bass line in the song. Patrick tried to back away or stand still so Pete would stop, but Pete just slid his arms around Patrick waist and pressed himself closer.
Patrick tried to move with him, keep a rhythm, it was hard though. Especially with the way Pete seemed to be humming against him, channeling the music so fluidly. Patrick was flushed and aroused (there's only so much a 17 year old male can take). He gasps lightly, too quiet behind the noise of the room, when Pete's lips brush his ear.
The song ends though, and Pete's eyes go wide, and he lets go of Patrick and mumbles about using the restroom. Which at first Patrick nods, but then asks 'What?' when he realises, 'oh yeah android'<\/em>.
Patrick fights his way through the show goers and finds Pete crouched down in a dirty corner in the small bathroom. "Pete?"
Pete's head snaps up far too quickly and he stands, "Do you want to go home? I'm sorry I did that. It was inappropriate and you probably hate me and want me deactivated."
"I-..Pete...it's..." Pete stares expectantly, the dull beat of music and cheering fill the silence. Patrick finally resigns himself, "Yeah, let's go home..I'm not-there's no reason to ..deactivate you, okay?"
Pete just nods and waits for Patrick at the door. They ride back home quietly, but when they walk back in the door and Patricia greets them Pete flies off the handle telling her about how he ..flew off the handle. Patrick's mom fixes him with a stern look as if to say, 'be more careful with your toys'<\/em>.
When asked how his time was, Patrick mumbled 'fine' and followed Pete to his room. Pete was sitting on the edge of Patrick's bed, picking at the comforter. Patrick had started to notice Pete had little tics, like picking at fabric and gnawing on the tips of his fingers as though biting his nails. Patrick sits next to him without thinking much about it.
"So." Patrick's word filled up the room until it was hard to breathe before Pete finally responded.
"You should really deactivate me. It's the best thing to do in these cases."
"What cases?" Patrick asked almost immediately, brow furrowing.
"I like you, Patrick."
"Yeah, so...you were programmed to-"
"I like you more than I was programmed to." There was a stretch of quiet and Pete was doing a pretty good job at unravelling Patrick's comforter.
"Like...yo-" Patrick started, Pete sighed deeply before turning quickly, cutting Patrick off, cupping his cheeks and kissing Patrick slightly too hard. Patrick made a squeaky noise but didn't push away, instead he tried to move his lips with Pete's. Pete went slow and sweet, like first kisses should be. Although he allowed himself to briefly nip at Patrick's pillowy bottom lip to see if it was really as soft as it looked (it was), before pulling away and dropping his hands.
"Like....I want to be able to kiss you like that again, and kiss you deeper, and let you touch me more and cuddle you at night so I can keep you warm and make sure you're safe when you sleep-"
"Pete." Pete shut up. "Pete, that's...you're right, it's not right. You're just...you probably have a wire crossed or a loose bolt or something, it's okay, we'll fix it-"
"I don't wanna be fixed if that's what you think." Patrick didn't reply, he just stood and went to shower away the show. He tried to make it quick to keep from doing anything that might make things worse. When he came back to his room, Pete was on standby in the corner as though nothing had happened.
Patrick sighed and kept tossing and turning after he got into bed, desperately pushing away memories of Pete's hips crashing like waves into his. Pete's lips pressed tightly against his, and the scrape of his teeth when he pulled away. Patrick wished he could delete tonight forever, or maybe just deactivate himself.<\/span><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:20939","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/20939.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=20939"}}],"title":"When You Wish Upon A Star 3\/?","published":"2011-01-19T12:12:52Z","updated":"2011-01-21T02:44:38Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"petebot"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"love"}}],"content":"
Pairing: Furture (lol furture) Peterick
Summary: Pete Wentz is a robot, it's the furture, Patrick Stump is a lonely music geek.
Rated: PG for now
A\/N: SO SLEEPY...
<\/p>
They were made from synthetic wood compound now, and recycled aluminum and copper for strings and components. It's still real, something to hold and feel the music ghost through. Betsy, Patrick's acoustic, was possibly his most prized possession. He started picking out this Saves the Day song he'd most recently taught himself by ear. He couldn't help tapping his foot along, couldn't really help singing the words along.
He played through most of it before hitting a bad chord he kept forgetting about, and setting his guitar aside. Looking up he saw an awestruck Pete standing near his door. Patrick's eyes shifted around, trying to focus on anything but the fact that someone had heard him singing.
"Angels." Pete blurted out.
"What?" Patrick countered, still not looking at him, instead adjusting his hat. It was a trucker hat with some logo for some team or business he'd never like. It was deep blue though, and he liked it.
"It was like, the room was filled with angels." Patrick snorted loudly in response. "No, okay...so my metaphor needs some work, but you...you should be in a band or something."
Patrick just scoffs a little quietly at that. He'd thought about it, but the only bands kids wanted these days were Holopop or Holocore...no one understood what a real instrument meant anymore. Pete looks sheepish, and he straightens the birthday cards Patrick had received from distant family members that his mom made him display on a shelf.
"I recorded it, if that's okay?" Pete finally asked.
"You..recorded..me?" Pete nodded and walked over to Patrick's laptop, pulling the usb attachment he'd used for charging out of his wrist. Patrick errantly thought that it wasn't the same wrist he'd touched earlier. "May I?" Pete added gesturing to the computer, Patrick nodded curiously.
Pete connected himself to the laptop's port, his eyes momentarily flashed green. Patrick averted his eyes again, finding it too strange. It was quiet but for some clicking noises of the keys, and then Patrick heard himself and a guitar playing back.
Patrick leaned over and watched the media player on his laptop's equalizer pulse up and down in time with the rise and fall of his voice. Pete had captured most of it, in fairly good quality. Pete was standing there smiling. He leaned over and opened up something, he was opening up himself Patrick realised, his own files on Patrick's laptop. For a moment Patrick wished he could have the ability.
Pete clicked on a folder marked Patrick, and in turn there were more folders; Videos: 1, Pictures: 13, Documents: 3, Sound Files: 11. Pete looked to Patrick while explaining, "Things I store so I can remember your likes and dislikes, like this."
Pete clicked on a document, and it was an exact transcript of the conversation they'd had yesterday. "It's like....these files are my memories."
Patrick couldn't help himself as he clicked on the pictures, before Pete could stop him. There were only 13 pictures, but they were great quality. Two were copies of Patrick looking towards the floor, cheeks ablaze. He felt them heating up in real time. Pete disconnected quickly, as though he were afraid Patrick might find something else or that he felt ashamed for having those saved.
"Why..?" Patrick made to ask, trying to think of a good way to phrase that.
"I told you, you're cute." Pete answered honestly, watching the chord automatically retract into his wrist before he pushes the flesh toned cover back over it, to hide it. Patrick made to change the subject.
"Were you watching tv last night?" Pete grimaced and nodded.
"I was hoping you'd forget...you're a fairly heavy sleeper."
"Shouldn't you have been on 'standby' or whatever?"
Pete shrugged, "I have troubles accessing it anyway."
"Oh, I'm sure my mom could get that looked at if you want?"
"No, I don't really like standby anyway...I mean, I can charge just as easily without it."
"Why don't you like it?" Pete hesitated, as though he didn't want to say. But he belonged to Patrick, Patrick got the say in what he did. If he asks something, Pete answers, it's only right.
"My dream sequence is...The way I was made, I have...Well, you'd relate it to nightmares."
"Oh...I hate those." Patrick replied, not sure what else to say. Pete looked suddenly alert.
"You should come with me, Mom's finished your surprise desert and dinner is ready."
Patrick perked up at this, "Surprise desert? Pumpkin squares?"
Pete nodded, looking slightly disgruntled, "I wasn't supposed to tell you."
Patrick laughed, Pete didn't need to tell Patrick that one of his saved sound files was Patrick's laugh. "It's okay dude....let's go."
______
They headed the lower level and Patrick's mom immediately covered Patrick's eyes with her hands, an odd chorus of 'Happy Birthday' ensued. And Pete, for having been a lead singer, was really off key. When they finished and Patrick's mom let him open his eyes, sure enough there was a pan of Pumpkin Squares with mini LED mock-candles stuck in them.
Patrick thanked his mom as she went to get the main course, veggie lasagna, and he sat down. Pete sat next to him at the relatively small rectangle table, it could hold hold more than it looked, it extended though Patrick and his mother have never needed it's ability to.
"Hey do you..eat?" Pete laughed his loud bray at Patrick's question, Patrick heard his mother's laugh from the kitchen, amused at Pete's amusement.
"Of course not....I mean, I could. I have the ability to masticate and pass food through an acutely replicated digestive system. But it's really just wasteful, and weird."
"Right..Can you like, taste though?"
"Probably...I was built with all five senses. I'm surprised you haven't asked if I'm anatomically correct." Patrick laughed awkwardly and reached to sip the water his mother had set out for the meal. There was a short lull as his mom walked in and set the hot pan of food down. "I am."
Patrick choked slightly on the water, Pete immediately reaching to pat his back. Patrick's mother just sat down opposite them smiling. "You are what, Pete?"
Pete looked quickly to Patrick, far too quickly for Patricia to see. Long enough for Pete to note the slight panic in Patrick's eyes and the redness that coated him to the tips of his ears. "A good singer, Patrick said I sucked."
"Patrick be nice." His mom said with a mock sternness, dishing out plates of food. Patrick just nodded and forked food into his mouth so he didn't have to speak. Had Pete just lied? Are androids even aloud to do that?
The rest of the dinner and desert was filled with politely joking conversation, at some point tapering off into a debate on whether or not Pop Punk should have the word 'punk' in it. Patrick's mom just nodded along quietly, not quite getting it, but still happy Patrick finally had someone that did.
Eventually, Pete and Patrick headed back to Patrick's room. Pete offering to stay and help clean up, but Patricia waved him on to 'go play with Patrick'<\/em>.
_____
Back in his room, Patrick felt fairly tired from the day at hand, and slightly food sleepy. So he laid back on his bed, getting comfortable. Pete stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure if he should sit in the computer chair or just stand, so Patrick spoke up, "You can sit here if you want, there's room."
Pete took the invitation and sat halfway down the bed, "Did you have a nice birthday?"
"I guess." Patrick replied, eyes closed to the ceiling.
"I was your present right?" Pete asked. Patrick opened an eye and looked to Pete.
"Yeah..I guess you were." Patrick suddenly felt uncomfortable and sat up, sitting behind and slightly off the the side of Pete. Pete smiled slightly.
"Good present?"
Patrick smiled back, "Well...you didn't even have a bow on you. How can you be a good present without a bow?"
"You don't even have a hat on, how can you be a good Patrick when you're not even wearing a hat." Pete countered, Patrick reached up finding that his hat had slipped off when he'd laid down.
"I guess I'm not then....Hey, Pete?"
"Hey, Patrick." Patrick rolled his eyes lightly.
"You...you lied to my mom earlier."
Pete suddenly looked worried, "Should I not have? It seemed that you didn't want her to know what I'd said."
"Yeah, no! I...I didn't really want her to know, it's be a little weird I think."
"It was weird that I said that? I was just joking around." Pete's gaze dropped to the floor.
"Yeah, it was fine, I just..my mom might not have..found it funny or- Just...I don't know." Patrick felt weird sitting up this time, and laid back again, pushing his hat out of the way. Pete lifted his feet onto the mattress and reclined as well, grinning at Patrick. Patrick couldn't help smiling back at Pete he'd noticed, he even laughed slightly at the action.
"Are you, are you copying me?"
"Are you copying me?" Pete replied. Patrick just shook his head and asked Pete about Arma Angelus. Pete went off telling him all he'd been progammed knowing and it grew later. Pete was in the middle of telling one of his favorite stories that had come with the band's file when he noticed Patrick's breathing evening out.
Patrick looked sweet and soft and happy. Pete couldn't help but take the moment to lean over and press his lips lightly to Patrick's cheek. There was a spark, a literal one, static electricity. Patrick's eyes flicked open to see Pete close up, still hovering over him.
"Sorry." Pete muttered, and before Patrick could say anything he was across the room, <\/span>powering down into his disliked standby. Patrick just brushed his fingers across his cheek, feeling for the tiny lightening strike that wasn't there before getting ready for bed and turning out his lights. It was almsot an hour earlier than his mom would have told him to sleep. But he just laid in bed anyway, feeling as though all the sleepiness had been washed away.
Patrick tried to turn his brain off, he wished he could go on standby so easily. Wishes sometimes come true though, because in mid-thought of going over what happened with Pete, he drifted into an uneasy sleep. Dreaming here and there of files and numbers and sparks of electricity.
<\/span>
Part 4<\/a>
<\/span><\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:20512","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/20512.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=20512"}}],"title":"Be Weary Of The Metaphors","published":"2011-01-19T03:01:03Z","updated":"2011-01-19T03:01:59Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"mikeyway"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"mcr"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"sol"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}}],"content":"
Title: Be Weary Of The Metaphors
Pairing:PetexMikey
Summary: Summer of Like, just read it.
Rated: pg-13
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:20275","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/20275.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=20275"}}],"title":"When you Wish Upon A Star 2\/?","published":"2011-01-18T11:17:32Z","updated":"2011-01-21T02:43:49Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"petebot"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"
Pairing: Furture (lol furture) Peterick
Summary: Pete Wentz is a robot, it's the furture, Patrick Stump is a lonely music geek.
Rated: PG for now
A\/N: Woot Woot, writing stories fun fun...
<\/p>
Pete's head snapped quickly to where Patrick was sitting up, and just as fast the tv was off, as if Patrick would assume he hadn't seen him watching 30 Seconds To Mars (The game show, not the classic rock group). "Pete?"
Patrick doesn't hear a response, just his sleepy voice echoing inside his head. Patrick just laid back down and pretended he was convinced nothing happened.
_______<\/span><\/p>
"Good Morning. I'm charging."
Patrick blinked slowly, trying to let this make sense, "Why do you keep touching my things?"
"You haven't told me not to." Pete replied, tapping his foot along in perfect time with the song. "I got bored and made breakfast, by the way. It's on the lower level and it should still be warm, Mom left for work."<\/span><\/p>
"Mom." Patrick deadpans.
"Patricia told me to call her that, do you mind?" Patrick just blinked again slowly before heading to the kitchen.
_______<\/span><\/p>
"What would make me more...roboty to you, Patrick?"
"Are you like...really strong or..I mean okay the math you did yesterday was pretty cool and all, but... I don't know you just seem really...human."
"It's because I'm not one of the "clones"." Pete replied, a mechanical shudder went through his spine.
"You mean..cause you're not a Jane or John robot? I get that...I'm kind of really happy you aren't..."
"They're terrible, they don't even realise they're all wearing the same outfit." Pete laughed at his joke, a loud obnoxious noise. Patrick wondered if that could be fixed, and then he laughed slightly too. He hadn't really taken in Pete's clothing, it was simple enough. A black shirt and a pair of blue jeans, and Converse that looked like they might not be the knock offs the fashion industry were trying to bring back into style.
"Yeah...You know, you seem to have a lot of personality...how-?"
"The person that ordered me, they were very strange from what's left in my memory about them. I was made as an exact replica, the person said they'd time travelled just to make me right."
Patrick's eye widened at this, "Time travelled? That costs...and two years ago it was even more dangerous than now."
"I told you the person was weird."
"Why'd they get rid of you?"
Pete had a pained expression come across his features, a brief humming noise filled the room, "Those files are long gone dude, sorry."
He paused shortly before blurting out, "Wanna see my tattoos?"
"I-what?" Patrick asked really hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. Pete just grinned and stood up, pulling his shirt off uninhibited. He twisted around trying to both see and point to a strange symbol at his lower back. Patrick had to laugh slightly, "What is that supposed to be?"
"I don't know, isn't it great?" Pete said grinning, he walked over and sat next to Patrick on his bed. "I like this one too." Pete said pointing to one of his wrists, "I wish I had more."
Pete sat quietly, and started to kick his legs against the bed. Patrick couldn't really help himself from reaching out and tracing over the small inked in design on Pete's wrist. It wasn't raised like a tattoo should be, it was printed on he could tell. Silk-screened or lasor etched he couldn't be sure. Patrick was slightly surprised however at how warm the imitation skin felt. He didn't notice Pete shift into him, barely noted Pete's head leaning on his shoulder. He did however jump slightly at how close Pete's low and slightly scratchy voice was in his ears.
"That feels nice." For some reason it sent chills down Patrick's spine, so he retracted his hand. Pete stood up and had his shirt on faster than Patrick would have blinked. He wanted to apologise or even ask if he did anything wrong, but then Patrick's mom was at his door. Telling him that she overhead someone talking about an old theater that had been restored and fixed up, and how they were letting retro bands play there on the weekend, maybe he should go and take Pete.
"That sounds great mom." Patricia looked over at Pete, who's head was buried in Patrick's closet pretending to re-reorganise something. His mother crossed the room and leaned in to speak to Patrick.
"You like Pete enough right? You get along?"
"Yeah, mom...he's cool..thanks." She smiled and wrapped an arm around him in a half hug, kissing his ear with a loud smack.
"You know, you can take him with you to school and show him off if you want."
"Uhm....maybe." It didn't really sound like too much of a good idea, he didn't need to give the kids a reason to start making fun of him again.
Patrick's mom smiled and awkwardly patted Pete on the head on her way out.
"Do I get to go to school with you?" Pete asked, sitting back down on the bed, shirt-on this time of course.
"You really..do you really want to?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Not really..but like, if you want-"
"It's not about what I want, I'm programmed to make you happy." It's said without an air of upset, a slight inflection of pride even.
"Well, " Patrick said slowly, "I want you to...if you want you to." Patrick watched as Pete blinked several times in quick succession.
"Yes?" Pete said, eyebrows creased.
"Okay then..sure you can come." Patrick said in a rush (okay, so maybe deep down Patrick really wanted an excuse to show Pete off to everyone). Pete laid his arm across Patrick's legs.
"Do you want to touch me again? I don't mind it." Patrick flushed deeply, staring at the tan and warm weighted arm in his lap. He didn't really answer, just lifted a hand to trail it lightly across the skin. Tickling Pete's palm, making him burst out with his annoying laughter, it just made Patrick smile.
They sat pressed together for a good chunk of an hour, eventually striking a conversation about body modifications and musing whether or not androids could get them, 'like upgrades!'<\/em> Pete had pointed out. Patrick didn't ever stop touching Pete's arm while they talked, he wasn't sure why completely. The part he'd figured out he tried not to think about. He just focused on how Pete would sigh against his shoulder or giggle depending on how or where on Pete's arm he touched, he even tried pinching him. Pete gasped loudly.
"Sorry..sorry, I didn't know if you felt-..I should have asked."
"It's okay, physical pain, no mater how intense, is only temporary...if I wanted I could wipe the sensation from my mind and not even remember it."
"Whoa...are you going to?" Patrick asked, absentmindedly tracing patterns on Pete's forearm.
"I don't think so....I should probably go see if Mom wants help with dinner, if that's okay?" Patrick nodded, though in their position Pete probably didn't see, and reluctantly let Pete stand and leave the room. Patrick thought his mom probably told whomever she bought Pete from to make him want to help her out around the house. He rolled his eyes and went to play Betsy.
Part 3<\/a><\/span><\/p><\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:20135","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/20135.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=20135"}}],"title":"Give 'Em Hell Kid","published":"2011-01-18T09:32:50Z","updated":"2011-01-18T23:21:27Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"mikeyway"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"mcr"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"geetard"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"waycest"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}}],"content":"
Title: Give 'Em Hell Kid
Pairing: Waycest
Rated: NC-17
A\/N: For one of my lovely wives
"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:19745","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/19745.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=19745"}}],"title":"When you Wish Upon A Star 1\/?","published":"2011-01-17T10:15:12Z","updated":"2011-01-21T03:39:19Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"petebot"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"patrick stump"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fob"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"pete wentz"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"peterick"}}],"content":"
Pairing: Furture (lol furture) Peterick
Summary: Pete Wentz is a robot, it's the furture, Patrick Stump is a lonely music geek.
Rated: PG for now
A\/N: am I really doing this?<\/p>
They argued the qualities of Han Solo, and how Princess Leia's dresses got shorter before moving onto the subject of the late 1990's Chicago Hardcore Scene. By the time they were sharing favorite Bowie songs, night had fallen and it was late enough that Patrick's mother interrupted them and called bedtime.<\/span><\/p>
Patrick tried not to let his skin crawl as he got changed for bed, he couldn't help feeling he was being watched, though Pete had gone on standby.<\/span><\/p>
Pairing: Peterick
Rated: NC-17
Summary: Van Days, Parties, a Dildo, Patrick Stump
A\/N: Here's to you Liz
Author<\/b><\/u>: ![\"[info]\"](\"https:\/\/l-stat.livejournal.com\/img\/userinfo.gif?v=1\" "\\"\\"")
<\/a>almightyonion<\/font><\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating<\/u><\/b>: R
Summary<\/b><\/u>: Mikey learns about masturbation
Disclaimer<\/b><\/u>: I really don't own anything cool, so...yeah
Author Notes<\/b><\/u>: Comment if you read, because input is totally awesome.<\/span><\/p>\u3000<\/span>
Mikey remembered standing there, watching the rustle of his brother's hand in his boxers. The way his toes curled up, and how Gerard seemed to be stifling strange noises. Mikey left before his brother finished, thinking that Gerard was just really weird.
_____
Mikey notices over the next couple of years that Gerard does that thing more often. Mikey doesn't ask why, doesn't try and figure out what's going on. Why should he? He's more interested in Gerard reading the new issue of Batman with him when he's done.
He gets a strange feeling he shouldn't bring it up to his brother though. Something built into his mind that tells him it's probably a private activity for a reason. So Mikey doesn't say anything,
______
Mikey tries to ignore the kids at school for the most part. They always make fun of his clothes or his age or something. He thinks it's stupid, just because he's 7 months younger than the other 5th graders.
He can't help but overhear a few of the older (13 already) year old boys (the cool <\/em>ones) talking about masturbation. It's just after lunch, and he happened to be enjoying himself quite nicely hidden behind the big bush near the fire exit door. Just sitting and thinking, and now overhearing.
"Yeah, you just grab is and rub it and it feels really good."
"But how do you do it?" The first kid (Tyler, Mikey thinks is his name) looks around the playground, the spot they're at is deserted save for them, and Mikey himself. He looks back to the questioning boy (Mikey can't remember his name, he's in Ms.Weiss' class). To break the small silence the nameless kid asks a new question, "Can you show me?"
Mikey notes Tyler's eyes go wide, a look of almost disgust on his face, "Why, are you gay?"
The other boy immediately shakes his head no, he looks like he's going to say something else but the bell rings. Mikey waits until he's almost late for class to leave the bush.
____
When Mikey got home from school he had completely forgotten about recess. He threw his backpack down inside the door, he didn't have any homework so he went to Gerard's room like he usually would.
The basement's dark as usual, Mikey's eyes take a little while to adjust before he realises Gerard's in the middle of that thing<\/em>. Mikey would normally just walk out and come back later, but in the dark he tripped over something on the floor and of course it made a terribly loud commotion.
"Shit!" Gerard's hand stilled and he flipped a light on. Mikey stood back up from where he'd unceremoniously fallen to the floor, Gerard quickly pulls his hand from his jeans. It's quiet, all for Gerard's audible breathing. There's a deep flush on Mikey's cheeks at being caught, matching his brother's fairly well.
"Sorry, you were busy and...uhm..I-sorry." Mikey stutters out, trying not to stare at how Gerard's pants seem to tent in the crotch still. "I'll go."
"No, hey...it's...you wanted to watch the original Dracula today..it's...it's cool." Gerard brushed a hand through his hair, digging around the shelf by his bed for a pirated copy of Nosferatu.
Mikey didn't point out the tent in his pants, he didn't ask what he was doing. They ended up talking over the silent film, making up silly things for the characters to say. Watching the movie with Gerard overrode the memory of walking in on him before for years after. It wasn't really that big of a deal to Mikey.
____
A week or so later there was a terrible storm. Mikey, well, he wasn't afraid of storms. He was afraid more or less of the damage that they could do, and being struck by lightening. He wasn't normally pushed this far, but when the hail started cracking sharply against his window he hightailed it to his brother's room. The basement was the safest part in a house after all.
It was dark, but he pushed his way through god knows what cluttering the floor, and practically jumped into his brother's bed when the thunder clapped hard enough to shake something off a shelf. Gerard let out a surprised 'mmmf'<\/em> type noise from the bed's disturbance.
"Mikey?" Mikey replied by making himself at home in his brother's bed. Which meant stealing half the sheets for his own and maybe hiding under them a bit when the lightening flashed behind the black curtain in the small basement window. Gerard just laughed quietly.
Gerard never kicked Mikey out of his bed, no matter how old he was getting. It's just not what he did. Looking back, it might have been something to avoid. No, instead Gerard just awkwardly half snuggled his brother, and attempted to fall back to sleep. Mikey can't sleep when it's storming though, so he starts thinking, thinking about all the things he doesn't normally think about since he has nothing better to do to take his mind off the rumbling storm. He thought, and thought and eventually found himself in need of an answer to continue thinking.
"Gerard?" Mikey almost whispered, any quieter and the rain might have drown out the noise. Gerard grunted in response. Mikey hesitated to continue, he wanted to know, but he didn't want to upset his brother, "The thing you do sometimes...I mean...these kids were talking about mastication and I didn't know if that's what you were doing, but it sounded like it."
"Mastication<\/em>?" Gerard's voice was muffled, but slightly higher pitched with anxiety.
"Something like that..." Mikey replied, he was flushed again. He wasn't sure why, he hadn't done anything embarrassing like trip and fall on his ass this time, he was just asking a question.
"it's....uhm...jesus<\/em>, don't they teach you about this stuff in school?"
"What?" Mikey questioned, thoroughly confused. Gerard groaned as though in pain before responding.
"About..like..sex<\/em>."
"Oh...no? Is that what you're doing?"
"Sort of....masturbation is like....it's just-"
"I heard it feels good." Gerard scoffed slightly.
"You got that right." They lapsed into a quiet, only impeded by the pouring rain.
"Gerard?"
"What, Mikey?" The reply was muffled with tiredness.
"Does masturbation make you gay?" Gerard's answering laughter could rival the thunder outside. Mikey immediately felt regret in asking. "Shut up."
"God..sorry...It's just, funny. I don't think it does..."
"What does make you gay?"
"Fuck, I dunno Mikey...you're born that way or whatever."
"I think I'm gay."
"What? What the hell?"
<\/em>
"I.." Mikey stuttered, he feels so stupid, he keeps saying the wrong things, " The kids at school sa-"
"Fuck the kids at school." Gerard said, sticking up for Mikey, like brother's do. It got quiet again, Mikey noted the rain was slowing down, the thunder's rumble further away. Gerard's breathing was showing signs of snoring, but Mikey had one last question.
"Gee...what is<\/em> gay?"
"Hmm..? ..Gay's like....it means you like boys."
"I like you, you're a boy."
"That's different."
"Doesn't sound different..." Gerard made no reply, but the storm having stopped, Mikey had drifted off to sleep.
______
It was finally approaching, Mikey's 13th birthday. He wasn't really excited on the surface, but deep down he was pretty happy to become a teenager. Gerard was out of the house, at some friend's place, working on something for school. Mikey didn't like Gerard's friends, whoever they were.
They made it to where Mikey had nothing better to do with his time but sit in Gerard's basement and look through his comics without being told, 'That's first edition, don't hold it like that, dammit you're breaking the spine!' ..which all in all was nice, but he kind of missed his brother. Mikey had found the copy of X-Men where Cyclops lost his powers that Gerard had been complaining about losing and then he found....Something really weird.
Mikey can't really remember what his exact thoughts about finding a porn magazine in his brother's room, but he remembers thinking it was weird. He remembers the centerfold spread, two girls and a guy, they were all tattooed and naked. He felt uncomfortable, looking at naked people, but in these pictures they looked confident. Comfortable to be stark against a black back drop, touching each other in front of a camera. Mikey flipped another page, it was just the two girls; one was sitting in a chair, the other kneeling between her legs, half turned away from the camera.
Mikey was flushed, he was curious, and slightly amazed. The next picture was harder to flip to, the pages attached and wrinkled as though something had been spilled on them. Mikey has to swallow thickly when he saw the man, his cock erect, the man appeared to be touching himself and looking right as Mikey while doing so. Mikey gasped and shoved the magazine back into the pile of comics and sketchbooks he'd found it in.
He stared at his lap, at the tenting, it made him think of Gerard. It made something pulse through him like an electric shock. The sensation caused his mind to go on a rampage, thinking of Gerard like the guy in the magazine naked and confident, or about his brother looking at the magazine while masturbating. Masturbation, Mikey had looked it up in the dictionary after talking to his brother.
mas·tur·ba·tion (\/\u02ccmæs t\u0259r\u02c8be\u026a \u0283\u0259n\/) –noun 1. the stimulation or manipulation of one's own genitals, esp. to orgasm; sexual self-gratification. 2. the stimulation, by manual or other means exclusive of coitus, of another's genitals, esp. to orgasm.
<\/em>
Needless to say he spent a good afternoon looking words up and still being confused. Now though, sitting here aroused in the dimly lit basement, he was starting to kind of understand it. He cautiously rubbed across the bulge in his jeans, gasping loud enough to make himself blush harder. It felt like his nerves were on fire, each time his fingers brushed over his zipper it felt better but at the same time he never wanted the throbbing blood-rush to stop.
His breathing harsh, he noticed a growing wet spot on the front of his pants, something he'd normally be very upset about, but at the moment could care less. Mikey supposes it's only fair that Gerard walked in on him.
It was unfair however that Gerard was buzzed, maybe a little stoned. He giggled and walked in sitting next to Mikey, who was glaring at his lap, the heat throughout his body not subsiding. Mikey tried to stutter a reasonable explanation, but Gerard just shrugged in response.
"You can finish if you want, I don't mind." Gerard's pupils were blown, definitely stoned. When Mikey didn't move to continue, Gerard reached out to pull his brother's hand back to his crotch, Mikey shrugged his arm out of Gerard's grip. "Hey, dude..seriously...it's cool."
Mikey's breathing was slowing down, the sinful burn simmering in his stomach. "I can do it with you...if you want..."
Mikey didn't respond to Gerard's slightly slurred words that brought the simmer back up. He wasn't sure why the thought excited him. Gerard leaned across Mikey's lap, coming close to brushing his erection. He sat back up holding the magazine Mikey had found earlier, tossing it in Mikey's lap.
"Look through that...you're old enough right?" Gerard muttered, nonchalantly digging a cigarette out an old pack that had been stashed somewhere near the magazine, lighting it with a carefully eased precision. Mikey remembers watching Gerard practice smoking a year or so back, he's pretty sure he's still doing it wrong.
Mikey couldn't bring himself to move, so Gerard grabbed the magazine and flipped it open to the picture of the girls, Mikey almost visibly shuddered from the image. Gerard seemed to notice, because he said, "You can keep this, if you want...consider it an early birthday present."
Mikey found himself boldly reaching out and turning the magazine to the page of the slim yet muscular tattooed man, looking briefly towards his brother. Gerard giggled loudly in response, he was sitting too close, he must have scooted nearer. Mikey could feel every inch of Gerard's side pressed against him suddenly, his senses sharp enough he felt to cut diamonds. He absentmindedly brushed his knuckles against himself, breathing in sharply almost out of surprise.
Gerard was staring at the printed page though, he snubbed his half smoked cigarette out on a makeshift ashtray, and casually unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Mikey felt his breathing pick up, a slight wheeze in the smoky haze of the basement. Gerard didn't seem to think before pushing his jeans down, letting them slide to his ankles, letting his cock stand proudly, outlined by his dark boxers.
Mikey felt stupid, and anxious, but mostly stupid; he still wore fucking tighty-whities, his argument on wanting boxers losing every time his mother took him clothes shopping. He stopped short of that thought however, he didn't want to think about that, he wanted to focus on not glancing towards his brother. Gerard was balancing the magazine open with one hand, the other was teasing himself through his boxers, he seemed lost in his own mind.
Gerard's gaze slid to his brother, catching him staring, "Come on, pants off....stop being a pussy."
Mikey frowned, he hated it when he was made fun of, much less by his own brother. With slight anger, he quickly shoved his jeans to match his brother's, flushing again at the underwear difference. Gerard just smirked at him before lifting his boxers and pushing them onto the pooled clothing at his feet. Mikey knew the challenge, it was like a game of chicken. Mikey pushed his underwear to his knobby knees, watching as they slowly slid down his calves to his ankles.
Of course, he looked at his brother's dick. He noted the differences in size (not that much), shape (basically the same), the way it seemed strained and tinted red from blood flow, he noted the body hair he'd yet to inherit.
Mikey watched Gerard grasp himself surely, years of practice, he sighed through his nose and let his eyes flutter before looking to Mikey. Mikey, who sat there helplessly, half naked, and aching for something he wasn't sure of. He watched Gerard stroke himself a few times before stopping, and frowning slightly towards his brother.
"Here." Gerard said, grabbing Mikey's right hand and making him hold himself. Mikey's eyes unfocused at the lightening that ran through his body, and Gerard didn't let go of his hand. Instead, Gerard tightened his grip on both Mikey's hand and his brother's cock, making him pump roughly up and down. It was a little un-choreographed, unsteady, too dry, but Mikey wouldn't know the difference.
Mikey let his eyes slip shut, and focused on the friction, the warmth of his brother's guiding hand and how he swore he could feel Gerard's breath on his cheek. He felt something building, something magnanimous in pleasure. He barely noticed the small noises he was making, he couldn't stop them if he had. Gerard was moving their hands faster, and he felt like he was going to die from the strain, the burn in his muscles as they tensed.
Soon, the pleasure had built up and finally let lose, exploding stars behind Mikey's eyes. He choked out a sound, almost a sob, as he came. Strips of clear-off white cum landing over his and his brother's fists. Mikey wanted to let go then and there, but Gerard kept moving his hand until Mikey had softened, until he was whimpering more in pain from the sensitivity.
Mikey sat there, arms now uselessly laying at his sides, his underwear still wrapped lazily around his ankles. He heard the quiet skin on skin sound come back to the air, he knew it was his brother but he didn't look. His body still felt hot, sunburned, a dank scent filled the air. Musk and sweat and cum.
He heard his brother make a high pitched whine, a keening noise from the back of his throat before the only sound left was Gerard's heavy breathing. Mikey still didn't look, not until he heard the flick of a lighter.
Gerard was flushed, glistening, he'd wiped his hand on something and was now smoking the rest of his cigarette, looking content to sit there half naked. Mikey pulled his underwear and jeans back up, but didn't rush away from the room.
When Gerard finished smoking he pulled his boxers back up and handed Mikey the magazine again. "Really, keep it, happy birthday."
"Gerard....?" There were too many questions Mikey wanted to ask, too many things he needed answers to before he kept thinking so he wouldn't run in circles. Gerard just leaned in and kissed his cheek and shrugged.
"It's what brothers do."
"You're weird." Gerard nodded in agreement before picking up a comic book.
"Oh hey! I've been looking everywhere for this issue, wanna read it together?" Mikey nodded and let himself lean against Gerard's side as he opened it to the title page. Mikey supposes it's not really that weird, it is what brothers do after all.
<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:18309","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/18309.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=18309"}}],"title":"Doctor, Doctor!","published":"2010-12-26T05:47:12Z","updated":"2011-02-24T11:14:33Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"this is a tag"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"asdfghjkl"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"stupid shit"}}],"content":"Title: Doctor, Doctor!
Summary: Short drabble about heartbreak
Rated: PG
A\/N: Written off of Disloyal Order of Water Buffalos by Fall Out Boy
"Doc, there's a hole where something was. There's not a thing that can fill it. I've tried your pills, and my pills, and no pills. I've tried Grey Goose and Jack Daniels. I went broke, I got rich. I was abstinate, I fucked everyone. There's a piece of me missing. I know who has it too, which is the worst part. I know who has it and I don't have it in me to take it back. That piece isn't mine anymore anyways, but Doc it hurts.
It feels like a playlist of the saddest songs, like your first puppy getting hit by a car over and over. The sun's burnt out, the stars all fell. There's not a thing that can keep me up at night and not a thing to make me sleep. When I breathe I'm underwater, when I don't I never die. But this hole is like a moth eaten sweater; every day that goes by without proper repair makes it larger, more ragged, more unrepairable.
There's no more rhythm to my blues. Nothing to catch me as I fall. I don't think you quite understand though, Doc, I don't know you ever will. I can speak a million metaphors for heartbreak, but not one can make it better. I can make believe in this loneliness, but I can't believe without carelessness. No, there's a hole where something was, where something wasn't before. But you see Doc, that thing came and now it's gone, and I had to let it go."<\/a>"},{"id":"urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:almightyonion:17745","link":[{"@attributes":{"rel":"alternate","type":"text\/html","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/17745.html"}},{"@attributes":{"rel":"self","type":"text\/xml","href":"https:\/\/almightyonion.livejournal.com\/data\/atom\/?itemid=17745"}}],"title":"All I Want For Christmas Is You","published":"2010-12-18T11:05:13Z","updated":"2011-08-19T08:47:28Z","category":[{"@attributes":{"term":"waycest"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"cute"}},{"@attributes":{"term":"fic"}}],"content":"
Author<\/b><\/u>: <\/a>almightyonion<\/font><\/b><\/a><\/span>
Rating<\/u><\/b>: PG-13
Summary<\/b><\/u>: Gerard helps Mikey with Christmas decor