Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1098871.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Fall_Out_Boy, Bandom
  Relationship:
      Patrick_Stump/Pete_Wentz
  Character:
      Patrick_Stump, Pete_Wentz
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs, Anal_Sex, Facials, Coercion, Begging, Rough_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-24 Words: 1909
****** let's get you wasted (and alone) ******
by snitches_get_stitches
Summary
     Patrick is young and insecure and desperate, and Pete just can't help
     himself.
Notes
     true story: i accidentally typed "brostate" instead of "prostate". i
     guess my subconscious is still trying to tell me "no homo"
     anyways, like, four pages of bb!patrick porn. hope you have beautiful
     wet dreams about this.
     characters own themselves, duh.
The thing is, Patrick is a total fucking slut.
And wow, Pete feels like such an asshole because he knows why Patrick is like
this; he knows that he's insecure, that he would do anything for some kind of
approval from Pete, for any kind of affection his starved little self get could
his hands on. And, Jesus, Pete's such an asshole. Because he could've been a
decent fucking person, he could've--he should've been Patrick's friend and
nursed his fragile, broken self-esteem back to health, because seriously, the
kid had more talent in his little finger than Pete had in his whole body. He
really, really did.
But he was sovulnerable.
So vulnerable and so eager to please and Pete had taken advantage of it, had
taken him back to his apartment ("Just some more practice and stuff," he'd told
Patrick's mother, the poor woman, "An extended audition, your son's amazing,")
told him that maybe if he sucked Pete off, if he showed him how bad he wanted
this chance, he could be in the band.
Pete would've kept him anyway.
But here he is, slumped against the wall of his bedroom, one hand fisted in
Patrick's fine hair as the younger (so, so young, just a pretty sixteen) takes
him in his mouth, long and deft fingers wrapped around the base. It's fucking
obscene--the stretch of Patrick's pretty pink lips, full and shiny, around his
cock, the light scrape of his teeth every time he pulls back, the way the line
of his throat fills out every time he deep-throats Pete. He's young and awkward
and insecure, but he's still the perfect picture of porn, deceivingly innocent
eyes peering up at Pete through dark gold lashes, seeking approval.
Pete releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as they made eye-
contact, tries to hold back his orgasm as Patrick's throat works around him. He
cards his hands through Patrick's hair for a brief moment before muttering,
"Jesus, Patrick. So fuckin' hot. Should--fuck--should put a patent on that
mouth."
The blonde moans around his cock, flutters his eyes shut, and Pete's hips jerk
without his permission. "Fuck, sorry," he apologizes, before-- "Here, come up
here."
Patrick pulls off almost reluctantly, giving one last lap at the head of Pete's
dick before Pete fists a hand in his shirt and hauls him up to full a height,
just a couple inches shy of Pete's own.
Pete yanks him closer and Patrick stumbles, makes a surprised noise at the
tongue Pete's suddenly thrusting into his mouth before he melts into it, hands
settling lightly on Pete's shoulders. Pete only grips his waist tighter and
grinds up into him, naked dick rubbing against Patrick's jeans. They both moan
into each other's mouths, and Patrick's flushed and gasping when they pull away
for breath, burying his face in Pete's shoulder.
"Pete, fuck," he says in a high, tight voice, fingers digging into Pete's
biceps. Pete can feel his hardness pressing against him through the denim, hot
and heavy against his own pelvis. "P-please, I need--"
"You need what?" Pete teases him. "My cock in your ass, is that what you need?"
Sixteen, his conscience hisses at him. Jesus Christ. He's going to hell.
But Patrick only whines high in his throat, hips jutting forward almost
unconsciously. "Pete, please, oh, god."
Pete grins despite himself, fisting a hand in Patrick's hair and kissing him as
wet and dirty as he possibly can. Patrick moans. "Bed," he pants into Patrick's
mouth, walking them backwards until the blonde's knees hit the mattress and he
falls back against the sheets. The fall breaks their kiss, but Pete just crawls
between his legs and recaptures Patrick's bottom lip between his teeth, tugging
harshly before releasing it and licking over it in apology.
"Fuckin' gorgeous," he murmurs into his jawline, and Patrick moans, hands
twisting in the pillow cover and turning his head to give Pete better access.
It's such a submissive move, and Pete bites at the line of his jaw, up to his
ear before tugging at the earlobe. Patrick jerks, and Pete grins against his
skin. "Need you to take off your shirt for me, okay?"
Patrick's nodding before he even finishes his request, hands reaching for the
hem of his T-shirt even as the blush rises in his cheeks. Pete can understand
why--the kid's a tiny bit on the chubby side, baby fat still clinging to his
hips and thighs, but fuck if that doesn't make him hotter.
He struggles with the fabric for a moment before he manages to pull it over his
head, leaving his hair mussed (like it wasn't already), the shirt still tangled
around one arm. He doesn't have time to right it before Pete as back on him,
dragging his teeth down his neck until he reaches his clavicle, biting at the
bone sharply. Again, Patrick jerks, but it's more urgent this time; less
controlled.
"Oh, god," he hears him gasp. "Please, do something--"
"I am doing something," Pete teases, before licking over a pretty pink nipple,
and the blonde groans, rocking his hips up against Pete's stomach. Pete takes
the nipple in his mouth, sucks it hard, while he reaches up with one hand to
play with the other. There's a high whine that escapes the younger's throat,
and the rocking of his hips increases, jeans rubbing Pete's skin raw.
"C'mon, Pete, please,please, do something--"
"Do what?" Pete likes making people beg for it, loves knowing what they'll do
for Pete's dick up their ass. Jesus. He's such a goddamn narcissist, it really
can't be healthy.
Patrick makes a high sobbing noise, finally looking down at where Pete is
teasingly tonguing his belly-button, dragging his tongue in and out of the deep
cup. "Fuck me," he finally cries, hands twisting hard in the pillow case. "Fuck
me, suck me, anything, please, Pete, I need it, need you."
Pete grins, thinks that'll do for now, before he's fumbling with Patrick's
jeans, finally getting them unzipped and yanking them down his thighs and off
his legs along with his underwear. The kid's got gorgeous thighs--pale and
unmarked, lightly decorated with light blonde hair and the occasional stray
freckle. But Pete's finding it hard to focus on his thighs when there's a hard
cock right in front of him, hard and leaking and begging to be teased.
Patrick actually fucking sobs when Pete licks a quick stripe up his dick, keeps
him from thrusting with two solid hands on his hips. The noise goes straight to
Pete's cock, and as much as he'd love to keep playing with Patrick, he really
can't wait much longer.
He leans up and over Patrick, over the side of the bed to fish through his
bedside drawer, crowing with glee when he finds lube. He kisses Patrick dirtily
as he coats his fingers before pressing one inside of him. Patrick pulls away
from the kiss, hisses under his breath, but Pete just begins to thrust it in
and out, watching the way the blonde's fingers twist in the white of the
pillow.
He groans out when Pete adds a second finger and begins working those into him,
just this side of too dry despite the lube. But fuck, it's hot, watching his
fingers disappear inside his hole, and suddenly Pete can't wait much longer.
"Fuck," he hisses, drags his fingers out. "Fuck, can't wait anymore, have to,"
he gasps.
He doesn't close the statement; just watches Patrick watch him with hooded eyes
as he coats his dick, biting his lip as he works his hand over the sensitive
skin.
"Pete, I dunno if--"
"Shut up, you can take it."
Patrick does shut up, snaps his jaws closed, and some asshole part of Pete's
brain says, smugly, like a good little bitch. Pete hates himself, but it's hard
to really beat himself up about it when he's pressing the head of his dick to
Patrick's entrance.
And fuck, fuck, he's tight, so good around his cock. Pete reaches a hand out to
stroke Patrick's knee, to try to get him to relax so he can push himself the
rest of the way in without hurting the other. It works, and Pete pushes himself
in just a little too roughly, all in one thrust. Patrick cries out weakly,
thighs shaking where they bracket Pete's hips, sweat starting to slick down his
temples. And fuck, he's hot; Pete really can't help himself when he leans
forward to lick a stripe across Patrick's cheek, which shows up well in the
shitty light from Pete's lamp, and pins the blonde's wrists to the bed.
"Okay?" he breathes against the corner of his mouth, and the younger sucks in a
shallow breath before nodding, wrists twisting under Pete's grip.
So Pete has at it, thrusting into him roughly, wrists beneath his hands and a
pretty, pretty jawline under his lips. He mutters filth into the other's ear
about how pretty he looks (pretty pathetic) pinned to the bed, whimpering and
writhing under the thrust of Pete's own body. He's being free and easy with the
moans, gasping in Pete's ear when he brushes his prostate, tightening around
him briefly. Pete's finger nails dig into the soft of Patrick's wrists and he
thrusts harder, faster, feeling himself grow closer to his climax.
The noises Patrick's making gradually work their way higher and louder, his
eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a perfect O when it's not gasping out
expletives every time Pete's cock drags against that place inside him. "Oh,
god," he whines, voice high and tight, and it shouldn't be as hot as it is.
"Oh--oh, g-god, Pete, I'm gonna--please, fuck, touch me, please."
"Touch--touch you where?" Pete manages to grunt out. Jesus. Sixteen. He's going
to Hell. If not, then to jail.
Patrick's eyes flash up at him, and he looks like he wants to challenge Pete,
just for a second, but the desperation wins and he cries out, "My cock,
please, please, Pete, I need it!"
His voice cracks on the last syllable as Pete pushes his thighs back further,
giving himself better leverage to fuck straight into Patrick, and the blonde
nearly screams, body spasming under Pete as his prostate is repeatedly slammed
into. "I don't think you do," he manages to groan, and then Patrick just
fucking comes all over himself, head thrown back, body writhing against the
sheets as his tightens almost painfully around Pete's cock, thighs shaking on
either side of Pete's hips.
Pete has enough time to grin before he pulls out, still hard, and climbs over
so he's straddling Patrick's chest. The blonde's having a hard time keeping up,
chest still heaving from his own orgasm.
"I'm going to come on your face," Pete announces, voice gravelly and deep,
jerking himself quick and rough. "And you're going to let me."
Patrick doesn't even have time to protest; the next moment Pete's groaning,
loud and low, coming in thick spurts on the blonde's features. His eyes shut
just in time, but his mouth doesn't, and Pete grins through the post-orgasm fog
as some of it lands in the other's mouth.
Patrick frowns, wipes disgustedly at his face, but says nothing.
When Pete cleans them both off and Patrick turns away from him when he lies
down to bed, well--Pete doesn't either.
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