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Language:
English
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Published:
2014-06-12
Words:
969
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
8
Kudos:
106
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A Better Kiss, A Hotter...

Summary:

Patrick is angry, really angry. Pete obeys to calm Patrick down.

 

Title taken from Lying Is "The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off" by Panic! at the Disco.

Notes:

*Warning*

There are a few threats of violence in this fic, but no actual violence.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Patrick slammed Pete against the wall and held him there, Patrick’s forearm to Pete’s throat. Pete heard the wind moving past his ear as Patrick’s fist whizzed past Pete’s ear and landed on the wall right next to him. Pete knew Patrick was more pissed off than usual; very few people ever got the chance to see this Patrick; angry Patrick with murder in his eyes; angry Patrick who chose violence over peace; angry, murderous Patrick who kissed like the devil and fucked like a dream.

“I’m going to make you use that big mouth of yours for something besides talking. When I move my arm, you’re going to drop to your knees, undo my pants, and blow me until I tell you that you can stop. Got it?”

Angry, murderous, violent Patrick who kissed like the devil, fucked like a dream, and loved to order Pete around. Pete nodded.

“Good. Don’t talk unless spoken to. Don’t… Fuck it. You know the rules, don’t you?”

Pete knew the rules. Pete loved the rules. More specifically, Pete loved to break the rules. Pete nodded again.

“Then do what you’ve been told to fucking do. And I swear to God, Pete, if you break the rules this time, I’ll break your fucking jaw so you can’t talk for weeks.”

Patrick removed his arm from Pete’s throat, took his hand off the wall, and took two steps back,  just enough room for Pete to do what he’d been told. Pete immediately dropped to his knees and freed Patrick’s cock from its denim restraint. It bobbed up and down in its freedom, already glistening with pre-cum. Pete licked his lips, hungry for Patrick.

Pete pushed Patrick’s skin tight jeans (ones Pete recognized from his own closet) to his ankles. When Pete came back up, he ran his tongue along the bottom of Patrick’s shaft. Patrick moaned from deep in his chest. It sent shivers up Pete’s spine. Pete clasped his hands together behind his back (per the rules) and leaned forward until his lips were just in front of Patrick’s cock. Pete bit his bottom lip and stared up at Patrick through full lashes and hooded eyelids.

“Fuck, Pete. I already gave you permission when I told you to drop to your knees and blow me. So do it now, or I’m getting away from you and that mouth of yours for a week, and the only time you’ll see me in that week is on stage, and I promise you that those times will not be easy for you to deal with.”

Patrick traced his thumb over Pete’s slightly chapped bottom lip. Pete whimpered at the gentle caress. Sweet, adoring Patrick was a rare sight when he was like this. The contrast between Patrick’s voice and actions versus his touch was overwhelming.

Patrick stuck his index finger in Pete’s mouth, and Pete sucked on it. Patrick pushed his middle finger into Pete’s mouth as well. Patrick slid his thumb down Pete’s cheek and placed it on the bottom of Pete’s chin. With a gentle, yet firm grip, Patrick opened Pete’s mouth wide. Patrick grabbed his cock and guided it into Pete’s waiting, salivating mouth. Patrick removed his fingers, and Pete closed his mouth around Patrick. Pete hummed in delight. Patrick’s hand raked through Pete’s hair. He grabbed ahold and took control over a fraction of Pete’s movements.

Pete lapped at the pale flesh in his mouth, savoring the saltiness. Patrick tightened his grip on Pete’s hair and moved Pete’s head back and forth. Pete relaxed his jaw and pressed the perfect amount of teeth (the amount that Patrick had taught him to use) against Patrick’s throbbing cock. Patrick’s hand stalled, and he whispered obscenities under his breath. Pete continued to move back and forth, speeding up and sucking harder, letting his tongue work on Patrick. His neck was starting to ache from the fast, monotonous motion.

“Fuck, Pete. I’m gonna… Stop. Stop, and just finish it. Make me cum, baby.”

Pete unclasped his hands and wrapped them around Patrick’s waist. Pete took a couple deep breathes through his nose before he completely relaxed his jaw. Then Pete dug his fingers into Patrick’s perfect little ass and pulled Patrick closer. Patrick’s cock slid down the back of Pete’s throat with no problem, like two pieces of the same puzzle that fit together perfectly. Pete held on to Patrick but allowed enough leeway for Patrick to thrust.

Pete looked up at Patrick through tear-filled eyes. Patrick jaw was slack, his eyes hooded. Their eyes met, and Patrick let out a quick gasp before he chewed his bottom lip. Pete swallowed around Patrick’s cock as it thrust down Pete’s throat as far as it could go. That was it for Patrick. He squeezed Pete’s hair and held him in place as his body spasmed with its release, cum shooting down Pete’s throat. When he was done, Patrick pulled out, pulled his pants up, and fastened them.

“Good boy,” Patrick cooed at Pete, stroking his face. “Very good boy. Thank you.”

Patrick smiled and started to walk away. Pete fell on to his hands and knees and crawled after Patrick, whimpering.

“Oh,” Patrick said. He stopped and craned his head back over his shoulder. “You thought that you’d get off too?”

Pete nodded.

“No, sweetie. This was to teach you a fucking lesson about keeping your fucking mouth shut. But hey, if you’re a good boy until after the show, that includes not touching yourself, then I might just consider fucking you tonight.”

With that, Patrick walked away, leaving Pete whimpering in the middle of the floor, hard as a rock. But the promise of sex kept him from sticking his hand down his pants. Maybe when Patrick fucked him, he’d let Pete get off too.

Notes:

Disclaimer:

I do not know, nor own Fall Out Boy or any of its members. I did not receive monetary compensation from this work, I just really like writing about band members.