STMTAPCH (wow...) Part 12!
Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating:PG-15 to R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Same old lol, you've been reading! You know what's going on!
Disclaimer:I don’t own FOB or anything having to do with them (other than a couple tee-shirts and a track jacket…)
Previous Chapter:Can be found in theunderdogunit LJ
DedicationsTo the reviewers!! You guys rock! HEATHER IS THE GREATEST WRITER ON HERE READ HER STUFF!!! NOW!!!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 12!
Take Me To A Place Called Home
Part 12
Peter’s POV
So I was pretty much shaking with anticipation of Joe and Andy’s return. I had never actually paced before. This fine evening marked the loss of my pacing virginity.
“I really wish you’d sit down or something.”
I gave my attention over to Patrick, who was sitting comfortably on the edge of our bed, strumming random chords on the acoustic he had brought with him.
“Sit down? Dude…That’s like asking me to go an entire plane ride without a seat belt!” I whined.
He stopped in mid-strum of a C minor, looking up and over at me, “I really doubt Joe’s even going to tell you what they’re discussing,” He paused, leaning over to the bed side table, taking up the pen that sat on his open notebook, “Besides, if Andy wanted us to know, he’d of talked to Joe in front of us,” He finished bluntly, jotting down the chords he had blended.
I stared at him, standing there looking pretty stupid. Why the hell did he have to be right all the time? I rolled my eyes to the ceiling before forcing myself to move to his side, plopping lazily down next to him. He peered at me through those geeky glasses of his.
I met his gaze, reaching my hand out to rest on the back of his neck as I scooted closed to him until our thighs were touching. He cracked a smile; he always did when I did this…And no matter how many times I’d ask ‘what?’ he’d always shrug and shake his head. Confusing bastard he was sometimes. I leaned over to his cheek, pressing my nose into his skin before biting softly at the thin skin cover his jawbone.
He turned his head, he hated that, it gave him chills. I laughed, using my free hand to turn his face back to mine. I stared at his soft eyes. They were so enrapturing, I didn’t know anyone that could resist them…And they were all mine.
I gripped the back of his neck as I pressed our lips. It’d never get old.
I felt my way to the guitar’s neck, sliding my hand up the frets slowly as I burglarized Patrick’s mouth. My fingers found his on the frets. I gripped the mahogany neck, tugging it swiftly from his light grasp. I was then evil enough to break the kiss I had imposed, taking my tongue back with me.
His eyes scanned me before a pout crept to his features, “Give it back…”
“No, I need my tongue,” I wise-assed.
He gave me a quick whack on the shoulder, only making my smile grow as he proceeded to get it back. I shouldered him off, turning my back and hugging the guitar.
“Don’t be such a guitar whore, I did buy this for you after all,” I teased, avoiding his flailing hand the best I could so not to get smacked in the face.
“Yeah, for me, meaning mine…Now give it back I’m not finished,” He groused.
“I’ll give it back when you can act your age,” I laughed, his hands immediately going to my shoulders and yanking me back.
I fell back, head landing in his lap. I smiled up at him, wrinkling my nose. He glared down at me.
“Do you ever want me to finish? I’ve been working on this one song for a month because you constantly interrupt me,” He mumbled, leaning down and kissing my ear.
“I’d love you to finish…Later,” I smiled, reaching up to play shortly with his hair, “Plus, I wanna go at it.”
I sat up slowly and positioned the guitar properly in my lap before glancing over at the notebook. I examined his messy handwriting. Be damned if I could read that from afar. I swiped it up and glanced it over, setting it next to me before opening my hand to him.
“Give it,” I joke-demanded.
“Get your own, you always bend mine…”
“Oh quit whining and give it to me, I’ll be nice to it,” I pushed my hand further out to him.
He gave me a pathetic look before dropping his purple pick into my palm.
“Thank you,” I gave him a smile, oh how I bet he just wanted to smack me.
I looked back once more to the scribbled music sheet, moving my fingers out of memory of the frets to each chord, sample playing it I guess you could call it.
“All down strokes?” I asked, air playing it out.
“Yeah,” He muttered.
I nodded, going back to the initial starting point. He had played it for me once before so I knew the tune pretty well. I started playing, three strokes to each chord. It sounded pretty good; he never produced shit, that’s for sure.
I noticed him biting at his bottom lip and his hands fiddling with the strings on his sweatshirt. He always got antsy if anyone else played his rough drafts. I smiled and stopped, getting a weird look from him.
“What’s the matter?” He asked, alarmed.
I sat up straight, holding the pick out to him, “How about you play it for me,” I proceeded to push the metallic blue acoustic towards him.
He took it without hesitation and set it carefully in his lap as if he was trying to cover up his nakedness.
He always looked so damn sexy when he played. Eyes closed, facial features soft and concentrated, a loose wrist while strumming that was fascinating to watch, and of course his signature foot ‘tapping’.
His short performance was cut short as our attention was dragged to the opening door of our room. Joe and Andy walked in slowly and quietly, probably figuring we’d be in bed. Once they spotted us though, their eyes averted to some where else as they entered the room fully. Patrick gave me a slightly awkward look, I shrugged in return.
“Hey guys,” Joe mumbled almost inaudible.
“Hey, where’d you two go?” I asked, getting right to the point.
“Around,” He responded, eyes glued to the shoes he was removing from his feet.
I gave my glance to Andy, who was removing his shirt, exposing his inked skin. He was avoiding us…I wanna know what the hell was said damnit!
“Alright,” I stood up as their eyes fell on me, “What the fuck did you two say? I had to pace right there to keep from going insane over thinking what the hell you two were talking about,” I pointed to the spot I had actually been pacing over, “So when that didn’t work I had mad sex with Patrick to get it off my mind!”
Hah...The stares, they are priceless.
“He’s…Joking, we didn’t do anything…” Patrick defended, giving me a look.
I rolled my eyes. He could have at least joked along with me…
“We just talked…” Andy mumbled, toying with his bag.
“Bullshit.”
Oops…That wasn’t meant to come out, I’m sure my expression explained that.
Andy wasn’t happy with me, he gave me a pretty serious look that I only get when I’m bad…Like the time I stole his ‘back-up’ undies and pasted them to the back of the van and…Well yeah it wasn’t pretty.
“You really want to know?” Andy growled in a threatening voice.
“No…He doesn’t he’s just being nosey,” Patrick stood up and placed his guitar on the bed, turning to Andy.
“Take a breath alright, you know Pete and you know how ignorant and prying he is.”
“Hey!” That was just low…
Andy only glared at us…Something was eating his ass and eating good. I looked to Joe who was seated in a chair at the desk in the middle of our room. He didn’t look too great, head down and pretty weak-looking.
“Look,” Patrick turned to me, “Mind your own business, I told you that if they wanted you to know they would have talked in front of you…”
I stared at him. Who the fuck died and made him queen?!
I gave him a slightly deadly look, “You’re right,” I put my hands up as if to surrender, “I’ll just keep to my fucking ignorant and prying self!”
Insert emo mood swing here.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that Peter, grow up,” He bit back.
“Grow up?” I dropped my voice to a slightly mock-surprise tone, “Yeah I’ll grow up, right after you guys find a replacement bassist for Monday,” I snapped.
Whatever the fuck had triggered this little burst of anger was starting to take over. It was probably the fact that I can’t stand secrecy…I’ve had too much of that in my life and I’m so through with it. It didn’t help that Patrick knew this, yet he continued to nail me for being nosey. And as for ignorant and prying? Yeah what if I am? It’s called fucking human nature!
I shouldered him nice and hard as I went by him. I snatched up my black bag, grabbed my black Clandestine zippie and shoved my feet into my shoes. I felt so furious and I know its not just the secrets…Its something more but I can’t put my finger on it…Maybe that’s what’s pissing me off.
“Pete don’t do this,” Patrick raised his voice.
I turned and glared at him, “Pete’s gonna do this. And you two,” I shot my glare to Joe then Andy, “See if I give two shits about your fucking secrets!”
With that, my anger led me blindly from the room and to God knows where. All I know is that I probably looked like a prize, waddling down the hall in half-on shoes, an unzipped zippie exposing my bare chest, and bright white boxers to compliment it all.
***….Don’t…..Hurt….Me….-backsupslowly-**
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating:PG-15 to R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Same old lol, you've been reading! You know what's going on!
Disclaimer:I don’t own FOB or anything having to do with them (other than a couple tee-shirts and a track jacket…)
Previous Chapter:Can be found in theunderdogunit LJ
DedicationsTo the reviewers!! You guys rock! HEATHER IS THE GREATEST WRITER ON HERE READ HER STUFF!!! NOW!!!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 12!
Take Me To A Place Called Home
Part 12
So I was pretty much shaking with anticipation of Joe and Andy’s return. I had never actually paced before. This fine evening marked the loss of my pacing virginity.
“I really wish you’d sit down or something.”
I gave my attention over to Patrick, who was sitting comfortably on the edge of our bed, strumming random chords on the acoustic he had brought with him.
“Sit down? Dude…That’s like asking me to go an entire plane ride without a seat belt!” I whined.
He stopped in mid-strum of a C minor, looking up and over at me, “I really doubt Joe’s even going to tell you what they’re discussing,” He paused, leaning over to the bed side table, taking up the pen that sat on his open notebook, “Besides, if Andy wanted us to know, he’d of talked to Joe in front of us,” He finished bluntly, jotting down the chords he had blended.
I stared at him, standing there looking pretty stupid. Why the hell did he have to be right all the time? I rolled my eyes to the ceiling before forcing myself to move to his side, plopping lazily down next to him. He peered at me through those geeky glasses of his.
I met his gaze, reaching my hand out to rest on the back of his neck as I scooted closed to him until our thighs were touching. He cracked a smile; he always did when I did this…And no matter how many times I’d ask ‘what?’ he’d always shrug and shake his head. Confusing bastard he was sometimes. I leaned over to his cheek, pressing my nose into his skin before biting softly at the thin skin cover his jawbone.
He turned his head, he hated that, it gave him chills. I laughed, using my free hand to turn his face back to mine. I stared at his soft eyes. They were so enrapturing, I didn’t know anyone that could resist them…And they were all mine.
I gripped the back of his neck as I pressed our lips. It’d never get old.
I felt my way to the guitar’s neck, sliding my hand up the frets slowly as I burglarized Patrick’s mouth. My fingers found his on the frets. I gripped the mahogany neck, tugging it swiftly from his light grasp. I was then evil enough to break the kiss I had imposed, taking my tongue back with me.
His eyes scanned me before a pout crept to his features, “Give it back…”
“No, I need my tongue,” I wise-assed.
He gave me a quick whack on the shoulder, only making my smile grow as he proceeded to get it back. I shouldered him off, turning my back and hugging the guitar.
“Don’t be such a guitar whore, I did buy this for you after all,” I teased, avoiding his flailing hand the best I could so not to get smacked in the face.
“Yeah, for me, meaning mine…Now give it back I’m not finished,” He groused.
“I’ll give it back when you can act your age,” I laughed, his hands immediately going to my shoulders and yanking me back.
I fell back, head landing in his lap. I smiled up at him, wrinkling my nose. He glared down at me.
“Do you ever want me to finish? I’ve been working on this one song for a month because you constantly interrupt me,” He mumbled, leaning down and kissing my ear.
“I’d love you to finish…Later,” I smiled, reaching up to play shortly with his hair, “Plus, I wanna go at it.”
I sat up slowly and positioned the guitar properly in my lap before glancing over at the notebook. I examined his messy handwriting. Be damned if I could read that from afar. I swiped it up and glanced it over, setting it next to me before opening my hand to him.
“Give it,” I joke-demanded.
“Get your own, you always bend mine…”
“Oh quit whining and give it to me, I’ll be nice to it,” I pushed my hand further out to him.
He gave me a pathetic look before dropping his purple pick into my palm.
“Thank you,” I gave him a smile, oh how I bet he just wanted to smack me.
I looked back once more to the scribbled music sheet, moving my fingers out of memory of the frets to each chord, sample playing it I guess you could call it.
“All down strokes?” I asked, air playing it out.
“Yeah,” He muttered.
I nodded, going back to the initial starting point. He had played it for me once before so I knew the tune pretty well. I started playing, three strokes to each chord. It sounded pretty good; he never produced shit, that’s for sure.
I noticed him biting at his bottom lip and his hands fiddling with the strings on his sweatshirt. He always got antsy if anyone else played his rough drafts. I smiled and stopped, getting a weird look from him.
“What’s the matter?” He asked, alarmed.
I sat up straight, holding the pick out to him, “How about you play it for me,” I proceeded to push the metallic blue acoustic towards him.
He took it without hesitation and set it carefully in his lap as if he was trying to cover up his nakedness.
He always looked so damn sexy when he played. Eyes closed, facial features soft and concentrated, a loose wrist while strumming that was fascinating to watch, and of course his signature foot ‘tapping’.
His short performance was cut short as our attention was dragged to the opening door of our room. Joe and Andy walked in slowly and quietly, probably figuring we’d be in bed. Once they spotted us though, their eyes averted to some where else as they entered the room fully. Patrick gave me a slightly awkward look, I shrugged in return.
“Hey guys,” Joe mumbled almost inaudible.
“Hey, where’d you two go?” I asked, getting right to the point.
“Around,” He responded, eyes glued to the shoes he was removing from his feet.
I gave my glance to Andy, who was removing his shirt, exposing his inked skin. He was avoiding us…I wanna know what the hell was said damnit!
“Alright,” I stood up as their eyes fell on me, “What the fuck did you two say? I had to pace right there to keep from going insane over thinking what the hell you two were talking about,” I pointed to the spot I had actually been pacing over, “So when that didn’t work I had mad sex with Patrick to get it off my mind!”
Hah...The stares, they are priceless.
“He’s…Joking, we didn’t do anything…” Patrick defended, giving me a look.
I rolled my eyes. He could have at least joked along with me…
“We just talked…” Andy mumbled, toying with his bag.
“Bullshit.”
Oops…That wasn’t meant to come out, I’m sure my expression explained that.
Andy wasn’t happy with me, he gave me a pretty serious look that I only get when I’m bad…Like the time I stole his ‘back-up’ undies and pasted them to the back of the van and…Well yeah it wasn’t pretty.
“You really want to know?” Andy growled in a threatening voice.
“No…He doesn’t he’s just being nosey,” Patrick stood up and placed his guitar on the bed, turning to Andy.
“Take a breath alright, you know Pete and you know how ignorant and prying he is.”
“Hey!” That was just low…
Andy only glared at us…Something was eating his ass and eating good. I looked to Joe who was seated in a chair at the desk in the middle of our room. He didn’t look too great, head down and pretty weak-looking.
“Look,” Patrick turned to me, “Mind your own business, I told you that if they wanted you to know they would have talked in front of you…”
I stared at him. Who the fuck died and made him queen?!
I gave him a slightly deadly look, “You’re right,” I put my hands up as if to surrender, “I’ll just keep to my fucking ignorant and prying self!”
Insert emo mood swing here.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that Peter, grow up,” He bit back.
“Grow up?” I dropped my voice to a slightly mock-surprise tone, “Yeah I’ll grow up, right after you guys find a replacement bassist for Monday,” I snapped.
Whatever the fuck had triggered this little burst of anger was starting to take over. It was probably the fact that I can’t stand secrecy…I’ve had too much of that in my life and I’m so through with it. It didn’t help that Patrick knew this, yet he continued to nail me for being nosey. And as for ignorant and prying? Yeah what if I am? It’s called fucking human nature!
I shouldered him nice and hard as I went by him. I snatched up my black bag, grabbed my black Clandestine zippie and shoved my feet into my shoes. I felt so furious and I know its not just the secrets…Its something more but I can’t put my finger on it…Maybe that’s what’s pissing me off.
“Pete don’t do this,” Patrick raised his voice.
I turned and glared at him, “Pete’s gonna do this. And you two,” I shot my glare to Joe then Andy, “See if I give two shits about your fucking secrets!”
With that, my anger led me blindly from the room and to God knows where. All I know is that I probably looked like a prize, waddling down the hall in half-on shoes, an unzipped zippie exposing my bare chest, and bright white boxers to compliment it all.