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Give 'Em Hell, Kid.

Bulletproof Lonliness

I wouldn't front the scene if you paid me

Bob (favorite)

So give me all your poison, and give me all your pills. And give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill.You're running after something that you'll never kill. If this is what you want, then fire at will.

Bulletproof Lonliness

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Bob (favorite)
Title: Bulletproof Lonliness [Standalone]
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: Pete can't sleep, so he visit's Patrick's bunk in the middle of the night
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words and the idea.
Author Notes: Written for the Usual Suspects, with love. ♥




Bulletproof Lonliness




"'Trick? You awake?" Pete whispers, as he gently slides back the curtain of Patrick's bunk. The sight he's met with causes his breath to freeze in his lungs; Patrick is so beautiful. Even in the darkness, Pete can make out the smooth lines of his friend's cherubic face. He knows he should go back to his own bunk, but he also knows if he does that, he'll never be able to sleep.



He's not having an 'episode' exactly, he's just been fighting insomnia for the past three nights. He's tried everything. Running a couple of laps before bed, the old myth of warm milk, (which, for the record is notably disgusting) and he's even gone as far as counting sheep. Nothing works, and the sheep thing is just amusing, really. Though, it did give him an idea for a line of Clandestine pajamas, which he can't wait to get started on. He's thinking a baby blue background, with a print of little white sheep, who of course, will bear the signature Bartskull logo.



At least something brilliant has resulted from his restless nights, he thinks, as he pauses outside Patrick's bunk. Against his better judgment, he quietly slips into the tiny space, and slides forward until their bodies are pressed together.



"Hey," Patrick stirs, while reaching his arms out and pulling Pete close. "You came back," he mumbles, his voice thick and heavily laced with sleep.



He thinks I'm Lisa, Pete belatedly realizes as Patrick snuggles closer. Oh God. The pair had argued earlier, and she walked out. Oh, great timing, Wentz. Pete is mentally berating himself. "Mmm hmmmm." His heart is hammering in his chest, and he wonders just how much the bus ticket to Hell is going to cost him. Patrick's eyes are still closed, but his lips are parted, and Pete really wants to kiss him.



"C'mere," Patrick coos, while holding Pete tight and rubbing his back. Usually Pete abhors darkness, or near-darkness as it were, but right now, he's thankful for the opaque blanket it's shrouding them in. Like a secret; no one has to know. "Mmm, you smell good," Patrick whispers, as he brushes his lips lightly against Pete's neck. Pete can smell the alcohol still lingering on Patrick's breath, and he wonders just how many drinks his friend had knocked back that evening.



Pete smells like the vanilla body wash he showers with, whenever he thinks no one will be getting close enough to him to notice. It's Patrick's favorite, and Pete only knows this because the few times they have ever set foot in Bath and Body Works together, (buying gifts for the various females in their lives) Patrick always has a small love affair with the Warm Vanilla Sugar.



"Jesus, this smells good enough to eat," he'll declare while lavishly dipping into the sample lotion. Pete has this stored this the back of his memory for future reference, of course. It's situated firmly between Patrick having an obsession with his mother's pumpkin squares (which Pete's still trying to perfect, via the recipe she emailed him) and the fact that Patrick hates barbecue sauce. Vital information, Pete thinks, because when they're an old married couple, he'll need to know this stuff right?



Getting back to their current situation, Patrick is still kissing Pete's neck, while making soft little sounds that travel straight to Pete's cock. He knows he should be putting a stop to this, but he can't; he's wanted it for too long. So what if Patrick thinks he's someone else? It's not exactly a lie right? I mean, he hasn't actually called Pete "Lisa" so really, what's the harm? And okay, now Patrick's firm hands are rubbing soothing circles between Pete's shoulder blades, which results in tiny whimpers getting lodged in the back of his throat. Damn.



"Feel good?" Patrick mumbles, as his fingers keep up their delicious torture.



"Yeah," Pete answers softly, as he reaches out with shaky hands to touch Patrick's face. This is everything he's ever wanted, yet it doesn't belong to him. He knows that any minute now the spell will be broken and he'll have to lock his feelings away again. "Really good," he adds, before giving into his desires and pressing his lips to Patrick's. The kiss is nothing more than the sweet slide of their mouths, but it ignites a fire low in Pete's belly, and he has to fight hard to keep from doing it again. Patrick is like Pandora's box, complete with the key fitted snugly in the lock. All Pete has to to is turn it. This is all so wrong, and he knows it, but he's only human. He starts to pull away, but suddenly, he feels Patrick's hand gripping his hair and coaxing Pete's lips apart with his tongue.



Well, okay.



Pete moans softly into the kiss, and lets out a sharp gasp when he feels Patrick's erection rubbing against his thigh. Ohhhh. When he tells the G rated edit of this story to his grandchildren, Pete's version will be that Patrick 'totally wanted him.' Right now, it's actually the other way around as Pete snakes a hand between their bodies and slips it right into Patrick's boxers. Hey, if he's already going to Hell, he might as well have a little fun first.



"Mmmmffffhhhh," Patrick grunts, while tightening his hold on Pete's hair, and kissing him harder. This is all going to End Badly, Pete is pretty sure, but right now, he doesn't care. Patrick is kissing him, and he is the one solely responsible for the sweet sounds that spill from Patrick's perfect lips. It doesn't take long for Pete to build up a steady rhythm, and soon, Patrick is shuddering against him and moaning louder.



"Yeah baby ... nnnnghhhhh ... just like that," he cries out, as he breaks the kiss and comes all over Pete's hand. Once he's completely spent, he collapses against Pete's shoulder, while kissing it softly.



Pete himself is teetering on the brink of release from the sheer weight of the situation, coupled with hearing Patrick cry out in the throes of orgasm. He knows it'll only take two or three rough strokes to get him off when he's back in the privacy of his own bunk. As Patrick's breathing begins to regulate, Pete hums softly and leans forward to kiss his eyelids in a hopeful attempt to lure him back into a deep slumber. "I love you," he whispers against the sweetness of Patrick's cheek, only when he feels Patrick's whole body relax against him.



"Mmmmm," Patrick sighs contentedly as he pulls Pete close and tucks himself under his friend's chin. They lay like that until Patrick's cute little snores tickle Pete's neck, and then very gently Pete untangles himself. With a little luck, he manages to slip out of the bunk effortlessly, and in his place, he props up two small pillows against Patrick's side. Lastly, he pulls Patrick's blanket up around him and blows him a silent kiss, before crawling into his own bunk.



Pete's body is wound tight like a coil, and he has to suppress the urge to punch the wall when he realizes that he's going to have to hear all about Patrick's "incredible sex dream" in the morning. He can just hear it now. "It was so real, Petey!" (Yeah, no shit.) Then it happens. The hot trickle of tears are unstoppable as they cascade silently down his cheeks. To muffle his cries, he presses his face into his pillow, while punching the mattress as hard as he can.



His heart is breaking, but he has no one to blame but himself. Patrick has Lisa. Patrick is happy.



Pete, unfortunately, is not. Despite the fact that he has Ashlee, the simple truth is that she isn't Patrick. She'll never be Patrick, and until she can magically morph, the bulk of Pete's problems will remain unsolved.



His sobs eventually reduce to quiet sniffles as he hugs his pillow to his chest, and wishes with all his heart that it was Patrick. It could (maybe?) be Patrick, if only he weren't too fucking scared to verbalize his feelings when they are both awake and at least somewhat conscious. Suddenly, he feels a gust of chilly air sweep against his bare back, and an uncomfortable weight settle deep in his stomach. Someone is sliding the curtain of his bunk open, and Pete doesn't even need to guess who it might be.



Fuck.



"Pete." Patrick's voice is firm, but surprisingly pleasant as he fits himself into the bunk and positions his lips near Pete's ear. No. This is not happening, yet it is, and Pete is powerless. He doesn't even want to know how Patrick managed to wake up and put two and two together, because at this point he's fucked no matter what.



"I'm sorry," Pete sniffles he turns to face Patrick. He knows he's busted, and that insulting Patrick's intelligence will only make matters worse.



"Pete, don't." Patrick leans in close and inhales the heady scent of Pete's strawberry shampoo. (Yes, Pete likes to smell edible.)



"How much do you hate me?" Pete asks, when their eyes meet finally. Even in the darkness, Patrick's manage to retain their familiar warmth.



"Just tell me why," Patrick says, while reaching out to trace the outline of Pete's lips with his index finger.



"I wanted you; I wanted you so fucking much, and you thought I was Lisa, and I broke, man. I used that to my advantage, and I honestly didn't give the consequences much consideration." Pete's words tumble out in an exhausted rush, as he places an unsteady hand on Patrick's shoulder.



"I see," Patrick nods, while running his fingers over the soft curve of Pete's hip. He fully appreciates the startled gasp his actions evoke, and then he uses Pete's hip as leverage to pull him closer. "And now?" Their lips are only inches apart, yet light years away. Patrick can feel the humid warmth of Pete's breath caressing his face, and the rhythmic flutter of Pete's heart, pressing against his own.



"I still want you."



Finally Patrick smiles, and brushes the wild, ebony hair from Pete's face as he leans forward and rubs his lips softly against Pete's. "So what are you waiting for?"



Pete doesn't even hesitate, he simply reacts. In two seconds flat, he's on top of Patrick, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists above his head. Next, he leans down as far as he can bend, and slides his wet mouth up Patrick's neck. Every so often, he pauses to scrape his teeth against deliciously sweaty skin, which rewards him with Patrick's nails returning the favor on his back.



"Tell me what you want," Pete purrs against Patrick's ear, while slowly sliding their bodies together.



"You know what I want. What I've wanted since the day I met you," Patrick admits, as he tilts his face and catches Pete's lower lip between his teeth. A big part of Pete has always known that Patrick's had a crush on him, but he's honestly never thought it to be much more than that.



Intrigued now, he pulls away slightly, and rubs a hand against Patrick's cheek. "C'mon, tell me," he grins, before tilting his head to kiss Patrick slowly. A little incentive, he thinks, as he feels Patrick rubbing at his collar bone.



"I want to fuck you," Patrick blurts once they break apart, and Pete feels his whole body flush. Okay, that? He wasn't expecting.



"Whoa, I never took you for a top," Pete laughs, more than pleasantly surprised, while leaning in to initiate another kiss. Patrick has never seemed much like the aggressive type, but Pete can definitely get used to it.



"Fuck you!" Patrick shrieks once they break apart. Even though the bunk is fairly tiny, he still manages to wrap his arms around Pete, and successfully reverse their positions. "You think you know everything, Wentz?" he laughs, once he's settled comfortably. "You think you always get to be in control? Well, not this time," Patrick grins as he gives one of Pete's nipples a hard twist.



Pete sucks in a sharp breath, while pulling Patrick close. "You're so fucking hot like this," he pants, while removing Patrick's hat, and running his fingers through the soft strands of reddish gold. "I want you to fuck me hard," he growls, as the request vibrates against Patrick's ear.



"Lube," Patrick demands, while running a teasing finger along Pete's Bartskull tattoo. "And condoms," he adds, while sitting up and stripping off his boxers in the cramped confines.



"Bag," Pete supplies, while pointing to a black lump just at the foot of the bunk. "In the front pocket," he continues, as he sheds the rest of his own clothing when Patrick shifts.



Once Patrick retrieves what he's after, Pete welcomes him back into the circle of his arms. "This is real, right? Please say it's real," he says, while spreading his thighs and allowing Patrick to slide between them.



"It's real, Petey," Patrick assures, as he leans down and kisses Pete slowly. Once they break apart, Patrick sits up and quickly sheaths himself with the condom, before slathering on a generous layer of lube.



"Go slow," Pete cautions, while giving Patrick's hand a squeeze. "I ... uh, I'm not usually on the receiving end," he explains, and spreads himself wider.



"I will," Patrick promises as he nudges Pete backward. "Do you want me to use my fingers first?" he asks, while wetting his lips and rubbing Pete's inner thighs.



"Yeah, that might be good," Pete agrees, and watches as Patrick coats two of his fingers with lube. He's silently grateful for the night light he keeps in his own bunk, because really? This might be the hottest thing ever. Slowly, Patrick begins working a finger into him, inch by inch, until he's in up to the knuckle.



"How's that?" he whispers, as he squints and tries to focus on Pete's facial expression. It looks like a cross between pain and shock, and Patrick hopes he's doing this right. Admittedly, this will be the first time he's ever had actual sex with another guy, unless you count the time that Bob Bryar drunkenly blew him when they lived together.



Which, for the record, Patrick does not. He's also quite thankful no one knows about that, especially Pete.



"Yeah, that's good; you can move, you know," Pete chokes out, while Patrick wonders just what he means. Oh. Yeah, he fails a little at this, he realizes, but he finally gets it. Slowly, he slides his finger out, and then back in again, while working himself deeper into the searing heat of Pete's body.



When Pete moans again, a litany of well-practiced curses spill from his lips as he writhes against Patrick's fingers. "Another," he begs and hooks his legs around Patrick's waist to achieve better positioning. Patrick quickly does as told, and just barely manages to wedge a second finger in. The fit is tight, but Patrick can feel Pete's muscles stretching with every press.



"Oh God," Pete cries out as Patrick corkscrews his fingers and rakes them over his prostate. Oh yes, Pete could get very very used to this. "Jesus fuck," he screams out and squeezes Patrick's shoulders hard. "'Trick ... you gotta ... nnnghhh ... " he trails off, as he frantically reaches around for Patrick's hand, and grips him by the wrist. " ... stop," he pleads, as he meets Patrick's confused gaze.



"You okay?" Patrick asks suddenly, his tone as soft as his touch. He stills completely when Pete doesn't answer, and then gently slips his fingers out. About fifteen seconds pass before Pete is able to speak, and they are the longest fifteen seconds of Patrick's entire life.



Finally Pete nods, his mouth hanging open and his stomach trembling. "Yeah," he manages, as he gives Patrick's wrist a sharp tug. "But if you didn't stop, I was gonna come, man," he smiles, and he can feel his whole face growing hot. Who knew that Patrick would have this kind of effect on him? Usually Pete is quite in control, thankyouverymuch, but Patrick is somehow able to summon Pete's inner submissive.



"Oh," Patrick giggles, and even though it's more cute than sexy, it just makes Pete that much harder for him.



"Come on baby, I want you inside me," Pete whines, while reaching out to pull Patrick closer. Even though the suggestion was originally Patrick's, Pete realizes that this is exactly what he never knew he wanted. Well, the part about Patrick being on top, anyway. As for the rest of it, Patrick is definitely the textbook definition of everything Pete has ever wanted.



"Okay," Patrick nods, while lifting Pete's hips and quickly positioning himself. Reaching down, he gives his cock a few rough strokes to redistribute the drying lube, before slowly guiding himself inside of Pete.



"Easy," Pete cautions, as he takes a deep breath, and fists the bed sheets. Seriously, he can count on one hand the amount of times that he's ever let someone fuck him. In fact, the only person who's ever had the privilege was Mikey Way, and that was only because each time it happened, Pete was too drunk to protest.



"How's that?" Patrick asks, once he's got himself buried deep. He can barely breathe, and he feels like he might suffocate, but he's not stopping now.



"Good," Pete winces slightly, and rests his hands on Patrick's waist. "Go slow."



Nodding again, Patrick cautiously works himself into Pete's tight ass, while leaning down to brush his lips against Pete's forehead. Once he establishes a rhythm, he leans forward again to pay special attention to Pete's neck. Gently at first, he merely teases the skin there with his teeth, before leaving a trail of stinging bites all around Pete's collarbone. "Feel good?" he asks between bites, while Pete thrashes beneath him.



"Nnngghh ... yeah," he whimpers, arching his hips to match Patrick's thrusts. "You can go a little faster now."



Obediently, Patrick quickens his pace, while slipping his hands under Pete's shaky thighs; they are a little cramped at this angle, and he needs more space. "Up," he suggests with a quick lift, and manages to raise Pete's hips a bit higher. Much better, he conveys with a nod, as he spreads Pete a little wider. "Are you close?" he asks, while pressing deeper, and sliding against Pete's prostate again. He knows he's hit it each time when Pete shudders and clenches his thighs.



"Jesus, yeah. Right there baby," Pete hisses against Patrick's smooth lips, as he claws at the T-shirt the singer is still wearing. Up until right this very second, Pete had forgotten just how amazing this could feel. Sure, Mikey had been great in bed, but Patrick? Patrick is nothing like Pete ever imagined. Especially surprising is the level of self-confidence he seems to possess, considering the fact that Pete is pretty sure he's never done this before.



"How's that?" Patrick asks, while sifting his fingers through Pete's hair, and gripping it roughly.



"Faster," Pete urges, though he's certain that Patrick's hips have reached their maximum velocity. Looking up, he meets his friend's eyes in the dim light, while feeling a trickle of sweat run down his cheek. It's at least nine hundred degrees in the bunk, but right now he can't seem to focus on anything but the fact that Patrick might actually fuck him into the mattress. In fact, he's not even sure it's Patrick right now, because even despite all the times he's overheard (okay, eavesdropped) Patrick and Lisa having phone sex, Patrick has never been like this.



"Damn, you're so tight," Patrick moans against Pete's sweaty skin as he rocks his hips forward again. He's not going to last much longer, so he can only hope that Pete is as close as he is. "Come on," he pants, while dragging his nails down Pete's chest, and inching forward until their mouths are almost touching. He can actually feel each whimper vaporizing against his lips, as Pete's tongue slides out to meet his own.



"Patrick, you need to touch me," Pete begs between kisses, as he reaches for one of Patrick's hands, and presses it hard between his own legs. "Please."



"Didn't anyone ever teach you that patience is a virtue?" Patrick pants against Pete's lips, as he wraps his fingers around his cock, and gently rubs the pad of his thumb along the underside.



"I seem ... to have skipped that class," Pete grunts, while digging his heels into Patrick's sides, and pulling his tiny singer as close as he possibly can. "Fuck ... don't stop."



"I wasn't planning on it." Patrick's words ghost across Pete's mouth, as he dips his head and starts biting and sucking on Pete's collar of thorns tattoo. In unison, he matches the speed of his thrusting with the firm jerks of his wrist, until Pete is coming hot and sticky over his own stomach, and crying out Patrick's name.



Suddenly, Pete could care less about waking up his band members, or anyone else within earshot because he's pretty sure what's left of his coherency is leaking out of his eyeballs. His shouts quickly dissolve into satisfied little whimpers as he buries his face against Patrick's neck and kisses it softly.



"Mmmmm," Patrick giggles as he leans into Pete's touch, while raising his hips and attempting to slide himself out. Suddenly, strong arms reach down to firmly hold him in place, while Pete shakes his head, and squeezes him tight.



"You didn't come yet," Pete says, while kneading at Patrick's sweaty skin.



"It's okay," Patrick smiles and kisses Pete softly. "Next time," he promises, even though he's not quite sure that there will even be a next time.



Again Pete shakes his head, and locks his strong legs around Patrick's waist. "Finish," he insists, while rubbing Patrick's cheek, and trailing his fingers through his hair. "Come on, baby," he urges. "Come for me."



"Are you sure?" Patrick's voice wavers slightly as he waits for Pete to reply.



"Yeah," Pete smiles lazily as he gives Patrick's hips an encouraging squeeze. "Fuck me like you mean it."



It shouldn't be funny, yet Patrick can't help the rich, throaty laugh that echoes in Pete's ear as he slides back into him. "You better hold on then," Patrick cautions with a wink, just before kissing Pete roughly, and swallowing whatever retort his bassist might have countered with. The slow, steady roll of his hips is now being replaced by quick, desperate thrusts, as he drags his sharp canines up Pete's neck and whispers a steady stream of obscenities in between bites. "Almost there," he grunts after a minute or two, while bracing himself for the release that's only seconds away.



"That's it baby," Pete gasps, while pulling Patrick into a heated kiss. Finally, the sensory overload is too much for Patrick, as he loses control and comes harder than he ever has before. His release crashes over him in relentless waves as he struggles to catch his breath. He stills for a quick moment, before sliding himself out, and collapsing heavily on top of Pete.



"Wow."



"Yeah," Pete agrees, and pulls Patrick close.



"That was incredible," Patrick says, while trying to regulate his breathing.



"Patrick, I lov --" Pete starts, but is quickly silenced with a soft kiss, and Patrick's calloused fingers on his face.



"Petey, don't. Not now anyway. Please, not the post-sex cliche," Patrick grins against Pete's lips and kisses him once more before pulling back.



"I do though, I mean ... just so you know." Pete's eyes are downcast now, as he tries hard not to feel rejected. He supposes Patrick is right, but that still doesn't stop him from feeling the tiniest bit deflated.



"I do too, Petey. Just so you know," Patrick whispers, while tipping Pete's face up and pressing their foreheads together.



"Yeah?" And there it is, the smile that melted Patrick's heart from the minute they met.



"Yeah. And if you didn't already know that, then I'm doing something wrong here," Patrick laughs while kissing Pete like he might never stop. Like all good things eventually do, the kiss ends finally, and Pete molds himself around Patrick's solid warmth, while clinging to him possessively.



"So. Not bad for your first time with a guy, huh?" Pete teases, while pushing the sweaty hair from Patrick's forehead.



Patrick playfully swats at Pete's shoulder and curls up in his arms before he answers. "What makes you so sure I've never been with another guy?" he asks curiously, while pressing his nose against Pete's, and relishing the way Pete gently rubs his back.



"Dude. Letting Bob blow you doesn't exactly count as sex."
  • *SQUEE/FLAIL/SHRIEK*

    FABULOUS work, as always, baby :)
    I LOVE IT :) And I love yoooou :D

    <33333
  • the last line made me laugh :)
  • Guh.........
    Loved it.
    I love your stuff so much. It's brilliant.
  • ..................................*FAILS AT COHERENCY*

    OH MY BOB. ANGIE. You need to write more XD <33333333 *LOVES*

    That was -amazing- love!! Not only was it heart-breakingly sweet, it was also pants-meltingly HOT! Yes, this fic warrants made up words *points* XD

    Okay, spam time ;) *SNUGS*

    Nothing works, and the sheep thing is just amusing, really. Though, it did give him an idea for a line of Clandestine pajamas, which he can't wait to get started on. He's thinking a baby blue background, with a print of little white sheep, who of course, will bear the signature Bartskull logo.

    XD ADORABLE. And I seriously want those pajamas! I CAN HAZ?

    He thinks I'm Lisa, Pete belatedly realizes as Patrick snuggles closer. Oh God. The pair had argued earlier, and she walked out. Oh, great timing, Wentz.

    My heart did an OH NOEZ kind of thing there XD *doesn't want Patrick to wake up*

    "C'mere," Patrick coos, while holding Pete tight and rubbing his back

    Awwwww! *heart melts* :D You're so brilliant at cute interactions :)

    And omg, the hotness that follows this scene...follow me to the freezer for more details...XD *FAINTS* Pete is so sneaky.

    The hot trickle of tears are unstoppable as they cascade silently down his cheeks. To muffle his cries, he presses his face into his pillow, while punching the mattress as hard as he can.

    Awwww :( *pets him* Poor Pete!

    "I want to fuck you," Patrick blurts once they break apart, and Pete feels his whole body flush. Okay, that? He wasn't expecting.

    ...........GUH. XD XD XD Freezer. Now. *LOVES* That was so sweet!! And I loved the part about Pete telling Patrick to shush before he said the "cliche'd I love you" XD Oh Pete.

    But oh my God Angie, that was so AWESOME!! Why aren't you happy with it? :D It's cute, funny, brilliant and did I mention just a tiny bit on the hot side? <333333333333 Keep writing hun, you're amazing! :) And this is from someone who hardly ever read FOB slash XD

    Incredible as always <3333333333333333


    • *FLAILS ALL OVER* THANK YOU LYNNIE!!!! THAT WAS THE BEST COMMENT EVER :D :D I live for detailed reviews so THANK YOU!!! EEEEEEEE :D :D *happy dance* :)

      I'm so glad you even picked your favorite parts out. THANK YOU. (I said that already, didn't I? XD)

      And I CAN HAZ CLAN-PAJAMAS TOO? They'd rule wouldn't they? I'm pretty sure Pete trolls the intrawebs, so maybe he'll find my story. XD. I KNOW he knows about patrickxpeter. XD. So lets hope :)

      Thank you (for the millionth time!) for the lovely review honey!!!

      *SMOOOOOOOOCHES* :D :D :D


      Oh, and I wasn't happy with it because it just feels repetative in comparison to other things I've written. I need to write something totally different now. :) *LOVES*
  • (no subject) - fortheloveofpie
  • Patrick is like Pandora's box, complete with the key fitted snugly in the lock. All Pete has to to is turn it.

    i love that!

    this was fantastic, bb! <333
  • (no subject) - betterasalover
    • *blushes* :D Thank you SO much!!!! :D I'm thrilled that you liked it, and thank you for leaving me such great feedback. :D

  • Gosh, that last line was perfect XD
    I loved this story so much, it covered a tremendous range of such powerful emotions. Very well done=]
  • I adored the last line. Patrick should know that Pete knows everything.
  • this fic is amazing because
    a.it was well-thought out
    b.it was kind of emotional

    Pete's body is wound tight like a coil, and he has to suppress the urge to punch the wall when he realizes that he's going to have to hear all about Patrick's "incredible sex dream" in the morning. He can just hear it now. "It was so real, Petey!" (Yeah, no shit.) Then it happens. The hot trickle of tears are unstoppable as they cascade silently down his cheeks. To muffle his cries, he presses his face into his pillow, while punching the mattress as hard as he can.

    c.there was hot sex
    d. all of the above
    • Thank you SO much!!!!! :) I'm so glad you liked it!! (Ps, sorry I was too lazy to log into my fic journal, lol. ^^)
  • (no subject) - geoffaree
    • Thank you!!!! :D


      You're a Pete/Patrick fan too? I LOVE P/P! But I'm also all over the place. I love most FOB, PATD,& MCR pairings. (Or crossovers!) Plus I'm a huge Cobra Starship fan. Okay, most FBR bands, lol. I haven't gotten into writing them YET though. It's been a while since I wrote anything, but I'm working on an epic Bob/Frank, a fluffy Bob/Frank and A really depressing Gerard/Bert. I am trying to decide if Bert gets a happy ending or not. XD.


      As you can see, I'm REALLY all over the place with my writing. I just love varied stories. That's why I love your writing! You can take all the pairings and make me love each one even more than I did before. That's why it's SO hard to pick an OTP though. (*coughBOB/FRANK*cough*)


      I used to be a big fan of pairing Gerard with people, but lately, I've grown out of that. I much prefer the other four band members in any combination with each other. XD. Though I do want to pair Gerard with Bert, or Adam Lazzara. I may or may not be (eventually...someday...) writing a Gerard/PETE (Wentz!)*shifty eyes* But it'll be all angry & sort of snarky. (They get stuck in a basement together, and well, it's not happy times for a while. XD)

      Enough rambling. XD.

      THANK YOU FOR COMMENTING. I love comments, and I'm really glad you liked my story. ^_^
      • (no subject) - geoffaree
        • HA!! ANTI-FERARD FTW! *HIGH-FIVE* Well, I'm not anti exactly but ... ugh. Just over the years I've gotten SO sick of it. It actually annoys me these days. It's not even canon anymore and I'm well over it. I definitely do love the Waycest though. XD. It's my exception to pairing Gerard with any of the other guys. I mean the guy forces us to slash them. He gropes Mikey any chance he gets. XD. I've written quite a bit of Waycest. ^^


          And I looooove all the pairings you mentioned. It's easy to love each combination. :)


          HOLY CRAP. Mikey/KURT? That might be the most epic of them all, considering Kurt Cobain will always be one of my ultimate heroes. :)


          I used to be big Mikey/anyone fics but I've kinda moved on to Bob or Ray centriic stuffs, But I incorrporate Mikey a lot into my fics 'cause he's just too awsome not to.


          Oh, see? ME TOO!! XD. I do love Mikeyway though. To itty bitty pieces. (Hence the username. XD) But I favorite writing Bob/Frank and Peterick. I need to write more fic with Ray in it though. Maybe Ray/Bob! I've never written that, and it's one of my favorite pairings. :)


          <33333333 :D
          • (no subject) - geoffaree
            • EEEEEEEEEEE. *READS!* Thank you!!

              Randomly... I've been meaning to ask you if that was Kurt! *Squints* Now is a good time to mention I have lousy eyes, and hardly wear my glasses. Since it's a side shot, it's not as easy to tell. I was pretty sure it was him though. :D


              *high-fives again for good measure* DOWN WITH THE FERARD!!! XD
              • *is too lazy to log into other journal*

                I should really wear my glasses to, but I dont 'cause I can see just fine and one eye is just a bit worse than the other. so I only wear mine when I have like a massive headache or something...accuallly I don't even know were they are at the moment, I should probably find them.

                *double high-five and hip-bump for extra good measure*
                <33
                • *dies laughing* XD We're so much alike it kills me. XD. When it comes to vision, I'm the same way. I really SHOULD wear my glasses, but eh. :p Oh well, I can generally see just fine!

  • i've read this a zillion times and it never stops being amazing.
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