It's Not His Nose That Grows

Title: It's Not His Nose That Grows
Author: quirky_disaster
Pairing: Patrick/Peter
Rating: R
Summary: Patrick finds himself in a bit of a difficult situation....
Disclaimer: I don’t own Fall Out Boy. All of this never happened and never will. It just came out of my warped little brain. I do own that.
AN: Cracfic! Pure and simple
Dedication Thanks and hugs to my wonderful beta megyal who is very patient, as she puts up with me. Somebody hand her a medal!

x-posted to patrickxpeter, slutrick, peterickfics

Ok, this is my first try at cracfic, so I hope you like it. Concrit and comments are appreciated and loved.


This was one awkward situation; uncomfortable and unbelievable and just BAD. Patrick sat immobile in bed. “Ha!Ha!” he said aloud to the room in general, as he was the only one in it. “Pretty immobile for sure.” He had been awake for over three hours now. The first two he had just sat there in terrified disbelief. For the last hour or more, he had tried to figure out how this happened and what he was supposed to do. He had no answers to either question.

Finally he decided to call Pete. He wasn’t sure if Pete could do anything, but Patrick had to do something and at least Pete would be there. Luckily his cell-phone was on the bedside table beside him. Even so, in his present condition, it took him close to a half hour to make the call. Pete answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me. You still have my spare swipe card for my room?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Could you come down to my room NOW?” Patrick pleaded.

“Is everything ok, Patrick?”

“No, everything is not ok, at all. Please come down here.”

“I’m on my way.” Pete said and hung up.


Pete let himself in mere moments later. He looked at Patrick sitting stiffly on the bed, a strange, scared look on his face. Pete couldn’t read any other emotion, which scared him just a bit.

“Ok, ‘Trick, what’s so urgent? What’s wrong?”

“Um, I have….a big problem. I don’t know what to do. It’s a bit weird…”

“You can tell me anything, anything at all. You know that. So spill.”

“So, I woke up this morning and I felt, um, funny and I couldn’t really move and I didn’t know why at first, but it was….it was because…of….the….wood.”

“You called me down here because you woke up with a boner?” Pete said with a grin, “It can’t possibly be the first time that has happened. What are you so freaked about? You crack me up, Stump, you truly do.”

Patrick stared and wearily said, “I don’t HAVE wood…I’m wooden. I have turned to wood. I am made of wood!”

Pete stared incredulously at Patrick, “You mean like Pinocchio?”

“Yup.”

“That’s impossible!”

“You would think. But trust me, I’m made of wood.”

“Let me see, let me see!” Pete eagerly jumped on the bed and ran his fingers along Patrick’s arm. It was smooth and hard to the touch; definitely made of wood.

“This is fucking amazing. I mean, you are totally made of wood. Incredible.”

“We have to do something,” Patrick whimpered sadly. “This is awful.”

“Hang on a second Patrick. “ Pete said as he stroked Patrick’s face and shoulders, his arms and his chest. “You feel kinda nice.”

Patrick sighed and slowly closed his wooden eyelids. He didn’t like this predicament he was in, but he was pleasantly surprised to realize that, even made of wood, he could still feel Pete’s familiar gentle strokes.

Pete ran his fingers up Patrick’s arm one last time and then said, “I’ll call Andy. He has all those sorcery and magic books. I bet he will be able to figure out something.” Andy is always tapped for these things! I guess that’s the price you pay for being a comic-freak.

“Yeah I guess.” Patrick mumbled. He knew that Andy probably could help; he was their best bet, but he loathed the idea of anybody other than Pete seeing him like this. But, if he wanted any chance of not staying this way, he needed Andy’s help.

Pete called Andy and asked him to bring his books and come over to Patrick’s room. A few minutes later, he arrived, with Joe in tow.

Oh good, thought Patrick, he brought Joe. The more the merrier. We should just start charging admission. Pete cast him a sympathetic glance, as if he had read his thoughts, which he probably had.

“Ok, what’s up?” questioned Andy, hefting the heavy tomes in his hands.

“Go check out Patrick.”

Andy took a few steps towards Patrick and stopped dead in his tracks, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh my God…are you…I mean, are you…..WOODEN?”

“Yup.”

“Wooden!” yelled Joe, running over and tapping Patrick’s head three times. “Holy crap, you are wooden. Wild!”

“Just like Pinocchio” mused Andy.

“He’s Patocchi!!” laughed Joe.

“Fucking hilarious Joe,” Patrick spat out, “Glad you find this so funny.”

“It is kinda funny you know,” said Pete. “You will laugh about this after Andy gets you back to normal. I promise.”

“If Andy gets me back to normal, you mean. What if I am like this forever? What if there is no cure? What am I gonna do then?”

“Don’t worry Patrick, we’re going to find something in one of these books and then we’ll fix you up.” Andy reassured, all the while flipping through pages.

“Hey!” said Joe gleefully, “One of us could have a temper tantrum and freak out and break Patrick into little pieces! Tell me that wouldn’t be like payback….it would be hilarious!” He fell onto the bed at Patrick’s feet, in hysterical fits of laughter. Patrick glared at Joe. He wanted to make sure everybody fully understood how not funny he thought that was, but really, deep down inside, he did find it just a little amusing. He would stay like this forever before he would ever admit that to Joe.

“Patrick, do you have strings as well?” Andy asked, looking up from his book.

“He does have strings!” Pete shouted out happily. “This is so neat.”

“Now, if I remember correctly, Pinocchio had to be good and not tell any lies in order to become a real boy,” said Andy. “Of course, if he did tell a lie, his nose would grow.”

“Does your nose grow when you lie, Patrick?” asked Pete softly.

“I dunno. I haven’t told a lie since it happened.”

“Tell a lie! Tell a lie!” Joe all but screamed as he nearly fell off the foot of the bed in excitement.

“It might not be a bad idea actually, just so we know exactly what we are up against,” Andy said.

“Alright…um, I’m six feet tall with curly black hair.”

The others all stared and waited. Patrick’s nose did not grow at all and the other three looked more than a little disappointed. Patrick just looked perplexed and then even more uncomfortable than he had moments before.

“Ah ‘Trick, your nose didn’t grow.” Pete pouted.

“No,” said Patrick, “my NOSE did not grow.”

The others all raised an eyebrow each. “Did something else grow?” questioned Joe.

“Well, um, yeah, pretty much, yes.” Patrick was stammering now, feeling more embarrassed than he ever had, and that was saying something.

“What grew then?’ asked Andy.

“For his sake, I hope it was his hair.” Joe giggles threatened to tumble him off the bed again.

“Is it possible, please, for you to be serious for 5 freakin’ minutes. For me. Is that too much to ask?” Patrick shot daggers at Joe and surprisingly, they did the trick, as Joe stayed quiet.

“What grew?” Andy pressed, once again flipping through pages of his books.

“My…my…well, you know. IT.”

“Your dick?” squealed Pete.

“Yup.”

Andy and Joe both looked very embarrassed. Patrick looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Pete looked like he had just won the lottery.

Andy continued to rapidly flip through pages and after quite a few minutes of awkward silence, he jumped up and shouted, “I’ve got it!”

“Really? Thank God!” whispered Patrick, a look of pure joy on his wooden face. “What is it? What do I have to do? Hurry up and turn me back, please.”

Pete moved suddenly and quickly from the bed, where he had been sitting beside Patrick the whole time. “Guys, can I speak to you for a sec in private, just before we do this? Hang on, Patrick, we won’t be long.” Pete headed to the door of the hotel room, followed by Joe, then Andy. “Let’s just go out in the hall so we can’t be overheard.”

Pete held the door for his friends and when they were both out in the hall he hissed, “Come back in an hour or two,” and slammed the door on their disbelieving faces,

“Pete! My God, why did you do that? I want to be real again, NOW. Get Andy back in here!”

“Ah come on, what’s in a couple of hours?”

“Easy for you to say, you aren’t wooden!”

“Well, parts of me are pretty wooden right about now, actually.” Pete slowly began to walk back towards the bed, never taking his eyes off of Patrick, who stared back. He sat down beside Patrick and moved in closer, his brown eyes were almost black with lust. Finally he moved completely in and kissed Patrick’s wooden lips. Their lips seemed to come together as if they were two of those magnetic kissing dolls. It was all awkward and grade schoolish. But despite how weird it felt, it was still Patrick. It felt strange and familiar at the same time. Pete couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was best that he couldn’t. It was just between Patrick and him. It was so wrong, but still so right.

It seemed that Patrick was feeling the sensations pretty much as he always did. Being wooden changed how he felt to others, but not how he felt inside. Despite the weird sensations, Pete still wanted Patrick and, as always, he wanted to please Patrick.

Pete began to kiss down Patrick’s throat, then his smooth, hard chest, then down to his wooden stomach.

As he moved his tongue in soft circles around Patrick’s belly and listened to his soft, throaty groans, he wrapped his calloused hand around Patrick’s hard cock and began moving slowly up and down, teasing Patrick, who thrust his pelvis up to meet Pete’s hand and softly moaned out his name. Pete briefly stopped stroking, causing Patrick’s eyes to shoot open. Pete stared down into his beautiful wooden face, never releasing his grip on Patrick’s hard dick and spoke in a throaty voice.

“Patrick, lie to me.”

Patrick did.