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Post #39
spn cowboys
immortal_lights wrote in anon_lovefest
Five photos that Jon Walker took
Five times Frank Iero almost died
Five times Brendon Urie cried
Five times Brendon Urie fell asleep in someone's lap
Five things Gerard Way drew for his band when words weren't enough
Five guys that Patrick Stump blew
Five times Ryan Ross let Brendon Urie walk away when he should have told him to stay
Five times Mikey Way wrote on himself
Five Times Sisky Wasn't Old Enough (And One Time He Was)
Five fucks Jimmy Urine remembers in particular
Five times Greta Salpeter questioned her straightness
Five times Brendon Urie told his band he loved them
Five requests that bandom boys have actually made on an anon_lovefest post
Frank/Mikey, watersports from Post #37

Well, that was a good post. Regular post this week. Have fun!

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Patrick had thought, when he first started getting chubby, well, there goes any chance I might've had with Pete. Not because Pete was vain or something - Pete was the least superficial person Patrick had ever met - but because he just couldn't imagine any situation where he'd be comfortable enough to feel comfortable naked. In front of Pete. With Pete. Being naked.

He hadn't even wanted to imagine it, actually. The whole thing freaked him out.

As it turned out though, it wasn't Patrick at all that had the problem. There he was just so over more than drunk, grabby, touching Pete in all types of interesting places at the New York Angels & Kings and it was Pete that was we shouldn't and just don't, okay? and Patrick, you don't really want this, okay man?

And it went on forever. Forever-forever. Eighteen thousand trillion hundred-billion years until Patrick wasn't even drunk anymore, thank you. Not drunk, but still strangely grabby. And amazingly confident about touching Pete in all those interesting places. And when Pete grabbed Patrick's hand that was grabbing at Pete's crotch and said, "Jesus. Jesus, Patrick. Nnngh."

Patrick felt like fucking Brad Pitt. Or, like, Tony Stark or something. Definitely more Tony Stark than Brad Pitt - he felt sexy. And bad ass. And fucking sexy.

Because Pete was no longer a person. Not an intelligent one at least. Patrick made him into a heap of porno sounds and sweat. Patrick felt like a sex god sent from the heavens to rock Pete's fucking world.

And okay, maybe he was still a little drunk. But, honestly, it was just a buzz.



And Pete wasn't drunk at all, which was a goddamn travesty because he was being completely uncooperative with Patrick's roaming hands, and all his attempts to unbutton Pete's jeans. Which was fucking important-

"-you stupid fuck," Patrick said, licking a disgusting wet line up Pete's neck. "Come with me to the bathroom so I can blow you."

And Pete said something that sounded like nnghogwhhefennhhhng. Which actually isn't anything at all, so Patrick said, "Come on, Pete.Come. On."

And whispering, as a side note, Patrick added, "Me."

Which caused Pete to sputter and tremble a bit and thrust his erection involuntarily against Patrick's eager hand.

In the bathroom, when they finally got there, Patrick's fingers working on getting Pete's jeans the fuck off, his mouth hot and everywhere on each inch of Pete's bare skin he could find, Patrick said, "So long, oh my God. You're so -."

Pete said, "Don't finish it, it's not true. You're. Patrick, fuck dude, you have no idea." Pete, trying to slow Patrick's frantic pace, trying to keep his jeans the fuck on, said, "I'm not going to be enough for you. I'd do anything not to disappoint."

And Patrick thought, fleetingly, maybe Pete was talking about his medications. Maybe there were side-effects. Maybe Pete couldn't get it up, or couldn't come, or wouldn't enjoy it. Or maybe Pete was the one, all this time, who was truly feeling unattractive.

Which Patrick knew was fucking ridiculous.

And also, if the erection digging into his hip gave any clue, well, the drug thing was a non-issue.

So Patrick said, dropping down to his knees, pulling out Pete's cock and breathing hot and heavy around the head, "You are perfect. Fit with me great. Love you. God I want to suck you until I pass out."

And maybe the last one wasn't really fucking romantic, okay, but all of it was so damn true.

So Patrick swallowed Pete down until he couldn't breathe, just like he wanted. Until he was choking, making the most hideous fucking noises to ever exist, but pushing through it anyway. Because he wanted it to be uncomfortable. He wanted to look like an idiot. He wanted to show Pete, in every way he possibly could, this is what I'll do for you, this is what I want, always always always.

Yes, choking on Pete's cock on a vaguely filthy bathroom floor. Patrick had never been more turned on in his entire fucking life.

And Pete came embarrassingly quickly, without any warning, his eyes wide and looking down at Patrick with his full mouth, like, wow, trust me, I was expecting to last longer too.

But it didn't matter. It was absolutely perfect.

And when Patrick stood up, licking his lips, tasting Pete on his tongue and teeth, Pete said, "Fuck."

And Patrick said, "I will call a cab right fucking now. Yes."

not the OP, but..

my firstborn, you has them.

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