Letting My Words Run Dry

ANDYJOE goodness...

theunderdogunit — Mon, 17 Oct 2005 05:24:36 GMT

Title: Who needs titles for PWPs?
Pairing: ANDYJOE!
Chapter Rating:R
Warnings: Oooo seeeex
Summary: Lota ANDYJOE love >.>
Disclaimer:Don't own -cries-
Previous Chapter:None
DedicationsTo everyone here at M_P
Notes:Enjoy dearies XD

Through a day of restlessness
The time has come to leave the mess
Take this time to feel what’s right
Watch them share another night

The maroon color of his bedroom carpet was littered by his and the other’s clothes. Strewn from the doorway to the bed. Atop the queen sized bed, a pulchritudinous sin was in full effect. Their naked bodies lay still, sweet nothings being exchanged in quiet whispers, complimented by soft kisses.

An on-going ritual of theirs since three moths ago, when they had confessed their love in the dark lull of their bus. He’d meet with him on Monday night, have dinner and rent a movie. Tuesdays were stolid, dinner at his place, followed by a shared long and soothing bubble bath. Wednesday was the day that the two shared a walk through the large park just a block over from his apartment. Thursday was poker night with their fellow band mates, watching Pete lose was always fun. Friday weighed them down with the stress of having to visit his grandmother in the nursing home; she was a sweet woman at heart… Saturday was the day that they did whatever jumped into their heads first. Sunday was the day they would test their love’s limits. The day they would share one bed, not for sleeping, but for aching bodies and swelled hearts to finally be calmed and ultimately quiescent at the end of a long week. The day they’d make timeless love to each other.

He held him bound as he shifted his body to know lay on top of him.

“I love you,” He whispered against the other’s lips.

“I love you more,” The man below him whispered in return, a smile forming on his features as he closed what little space was left between them.

Shadows slithered their way in through the large windows of his third story bedroom. The outside city lights danced, casting a hazy and almost non-existent light throughout the fairly humble space of his room.

The city.

The all-knowing, all-seeing, and all-hearing city. Completely visionless, oblivious, and blocked from what when on in the late hours of Sunday night in apartment 13, when the two were arranged so carefully in each other’s arms.

Such a delicate picture they were. Almost like a precious solid that if touched or hindered, it would eradicate. But nothing shall break them, them with their strong and able hearts.

A sigh escaped him as his fingers trailed down the spine of the man who lay atop him. Small kisses and nips to his neck only worsened the butterflies that had been growing in his stomach. Every time that they’d share this intimacy he’d always get them, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

He turned his head slightly so he was able to whisper in the other’s ear.

“I’ve waited for this all weak Joe…I need you,” His whispered pleading sent a ghost of warm air over his partner’s ear.

Joe lifted his head and peered down at Andy through the dark, smiled, and proceeded to kiss him long and sweet. His finger’s tangled in the soft mess of Andy’s hair. Andy’s hands found better spots on Joe’s hips. His own hips yearned to grind boisterously against his.

The grip of the kiss held on as Andy couldn’t hold it back any longer. He rolled his hips into Joe’s. Not hard or demanding, if anything it could have been viewed as a slow motion flex. Enough of a flex to cause Joe to break the kiss and give a deep throaty moan. The feeling of their meshing skin only caused their troublesome erections to build.

Joe sat upright onto Andy’s hips, arching his back as he felt another force spread from his hips to the rest of his body. Andy held his hips tight as they continued this little hump-fest, his own body arching from the feel of their skin and the muffled sounds Joe gave off.

Joe lifted himself quickly off of Andy, falling off to the left side of him. Andy gave him a pathetic look, but knew full well what he was after. Joe stretched his arm to the bedside table, where he snatched up a thin white tube. He was already right to work, unscrewing the small cap and chucking it across the room, and squeezing the contents into his palm. Andy smiled as he rolled onto his stomach, reaching down to tend to the agitation below.

Joe had been busy with his own, giving himself the pleasurable feeling of smearing room temperature lube on himself. Making sure he had pretty much gotten most of it off, he moved yet again over Andy. Placing his clean hand in the dip of Andy’s back, he leaned forward, placing a short trail of kisses down the part of his spine that runs just between his shoulders. Andy knew that was his warning to get ready for the whole inserting of the Joe.

He was only teasing him, holding himself just before Andy’s opening, letting him want even more. Andy hated when he played this game with him, he’d usually say something smart-ass to get Joe to finally enter him, but this time though, it’d be a little different. Andy arched and quickly pushed back on Joe. And to the hilt he went.

Joe gripped at Andy’s hips and held them tight, his head rolling back with a drawled moan erupting from his throat. Andy on the other hand had his eyes squeezed shut and muscles in his arms tensing and forcing his fingers to curl into fists as he held in the cry of sheer pain that threatened to paralyze him.

Joe leaned down slightly and reached under Andy’s hips. He’d wait for the initial pain that washed over Andy to pass, and in the meantime he’d try to lighten that load. He let a strained gasp escape him as he felt Joe’s more than experienced hand curl around him. The pain would soon subside into lust, like it did every Sunday. Joe worked him slowly, starting to move his hips gently. The smooth sound of Andy’s short and soft moans let the patient Joe know, that it was alright to get to the real work at hand.

He thrust himself forward against Andy, feeling his muscles tighten around him only heightened the sensation. His pace soon quickened, a short sweet display of love this always was, but it sent the message of complete oneness between the two. Andy’s hands curled in sheets around them, clenching and unclenching, his head buried into them as well, stifling the more vigorous and forceful noises that came from deep inside him.

Joe’s pace came to a sudden change as he leaned further in, one hand still working Andy and the other holding himself steady on the bed. His hips now making deep, agonizingly slow, movements in…out. One might even find Joe’s sudden intimate changes as a slight sexual bipolar-ness, or even sexual schizophrenia.

Andy’s whimpers for undistinguished need made their point. Moaning blindly as the pain violates his body and rapidly shifting the discomfort to something sweet and hot, thick and wet, into the hilt, wrapped around his tight muscles, snug and pulsing, in, out, in, out, harsh, gentle, slow, fast, hard, tearing at his nerves and causing unbelievable pleasure. The pace setting itself only to what the lovers are satisfied by.

Joe’s breathing hitched, his body stifening like a board. His eyes squeezed shut as he came, emptying himself into the body below him. On the reciving end however, Andy granted Joe’s work with a drawled moan, cut short only by a gasp and cleched teeth as he too spilled into the hand that still held him.

Joe slowly pulled from Andy, retriving his hand, and slowly letting himself fall to the bed next to Andy. And glance at him before rolling over onto his back. The both of them stared at the ceiling, listening to the sound of their heavy breath and rampant hearts.

Andy let his eyes wander to Joe’s tired features. He smiled, leaning down and taking up the thin jersy material sheet in his hand and tugging it up and around their waists. He leaned down, resting his head on the other’s shoulder, resting his hand on his chest.

“It was pretty quick that time,” He whispered, smiling up at him.

“Short and sweet,” Joe offered back, lifting the hand that had been holding Andy moments before.

A small noise of part amused and part grossed out came from Andy as he playfuly elbowed Joe’s side, “Whip it off you sicko,” He laughed, watching Joe open and close his hand.

“I don’t feel like moving,” He almost whined but mostly laughed.

“Whip it on the sheet…Needs to be washed anyway.”

And so he did, he went right about whiping the small mess from his hand before shifting both of their bodies. Eventually, Joe had his arm snug around Andy’s chest, while spooning him as well.

“I love you,” He breathed against his ear, taking in the sweet scent of his hair.

Andy smiled, his eyes sliding shut as sleep threatened, “I love you too.”

And so the city lights of gold
Cast their shadows upon young and old
Now the lovers they shall sleep
Their innocence they shall keep

****

And there you have it...Thank GOD its out of my brain now....Who knows...Now that that's out maybe I can focus on my others >.>

Thanks for reading uys =)

No title yet

theunderdogunit — Sun, 09 Oct 2005 05:51:55 GMT

Title: (Pending)
Pairing: P/P J/A
Chapter Rating:PG-15, will get higher
Warnings: Language
Summary: Love is a flesh eating disease wrapped in a pretty package
Disclaimer:Don't own -cries-
Previous Chapter:None
DedicationsTo everyone here at M_P
Notes:Shall Brandie continue or stop lol, you choose the fate of the fic!

Love is the most powerful delusion any human can experience. I mean, it throws people into these state of minds that they never recover from, so it has to have some control over our peace of mind, over the tiny voice that tells us not to do stupid things, right? Love starts off as something pleasant caressing your proverbial heart, but before you know it, it's gnawing at the valves and slicing open the veins. It digs its claws in to you and refuses to let go until you're left a broken, cracked shell, void of real emotions, incapable to think about anything but the person whom you thought you were in love with. Love is a flesh eating disease wrapped in a pretty package.

That’s probably why I’m sitting here in this white, starchy room, dimly lit and reeking of latex. My eyes were fighting a battle with my consciousness; I hadn’t had real sleep in a total of forty eight hours. My body ached all over from sitting in this thinly cushioned chair, and I swear my hands are going to be stuck in this position forever. I had been gripping his hand for the two straight days I’ve refused to leave this place. Hospitals scare the shit out of me, but he, and this little nagging thing called attachment, won’t allow me to leave. No matter how angry he makes me sometimes, I’ll never let him wake up alone.

It didn’t help the fact that I put him here either. It all happened so fast that I hardly recall anything that was said between us. All I do remember is that a nasty word exchange dripping in acid occurred. I think I threw the first words, burning holes of accusations. He only bit back from there. Ultimately, he ended up leaving my apartment in furious, frustrated, and aching tears. I shouldn’t have let him leave, I should have known better. It was raining, the roads are icy, and he was angry. Driving in rain in the middle of winter while you’re boiling over with anger is never safe, and I was stupid not to realize this. I still haven’t gotten totally informed about how he ran himself off the road, but whatever, I’m only thankful he’s still here.

The ass holes did inform me that he hit his head pretty badly though. They say he might be out for a good week, no more than that though. His hand is about as full of life as a stick would be; it’s not very warm either, which worried me. They keep telling me he’s fine, he’ll be alright, but what about me? How am I supposed to deal with the pain when he wakes up and doesn’t want anything to do with me? It scares me to no end, and I honestly don’t know how I’ll cope with it. Until that fateful date though, I’ll stay here, in this horrid place, hunched over his bed, holding his hand and whispering apologizes in as many different forms as I can manage.

“You’re still here?”

I sat up slightly, blinking my evident tiredness away the best I could as I glanced over my shoulder.

“I’m merely wallowing in self hate,” I mumbled to the skinny figure of Pete in his puffy, girl-fitted, and black, down coat.

He moved closer until he was standing at my side, staring down and examining the sleeping figure I held so tight to.

“How’s he doing?” He asked, taking his hands from the pockets of the coat and reaching out to touch his face.

“Well, he’s the same since the last time you were here,” I mumbled, my sleepiness taking its annoyance out on him.

He nodded, his finger’s tracing around the random spots of gauze that cluttered his features.

“Where’s Patrick?” I asked, watching his feathery fingers.

“He stayed home, he’s beat from yesterday. All that running around and chaos,” He glanced down at me in amusement, “You know him, he’s totally out of shape,” He cracked that contagious smile.

I smiled shaking my head and snorting softly.

I felt his eyes burning into me suddenly as I gazed up at him, “What?”

“What have you eaten the past couple days?” He sounded like my mom when I was in grade school and never ate my lunch…

“The nurses bring me stuff, I ate a sandwich about an hour ago,” I said, throwing my eyes to the trash can where the plastic wrap peeked out.

He nodded his approval, “Just let me know if you want anything from the outside world.”

“I could use some clean clothes,” I admitted, a shower wouldn’t hurt me either, but that would require me leaving the building.

He was quiet for a bit before I heard him suck air in, ready to speak up again, “Why don’t you come stay with me and Patrick tonight? Get a shower and clothes and whatever, then come back as early as you want.”

I shook my head, “I appreciate that, but it’s not gonna happen. If he wakes up while I’m gone, he’ll be pissed that I wasn’t here for him.”

“Didn’t you tell me that he’d be pissed if he saw you here when he woke up?” He sounded slightly confused.

“Well, yes. See he’ll be mad at me either way…” I squeezed the hand I held.

“Then what’s the point?”

“My own satisfaction, knowing that I’m doing what my own heart tells me is right to do,” I defended calmly.

“Joe, the doctors said he’s gonna be out for some time. What would it hurt to go to my place, get cleaned up, catch up on much needed sleep, borrow some of Patrick’s clothes and come back in the morning?”

He had a point. Bitch.

His place was closer to the hospital anyway; going to my apartment would mean I’d be an hour away compared to twenty minutes. I took in a slow breath as I stared at the body before me. I’d have to make up my mind. Pete was right about him most likely being out for two or more days, so it wouldn’t hurt to get clean and catch up on some sleep.

I made up my mind, “Alright,” It was only seven after all, “I’ll go with you and come back in the morning…” It was going to be hard to leave him, but he can’t always be my crutch, no matter how much I need or love him.

“Its for the better,” He smiled at me, placing his hand on my shoulder, “The sooner you get all you’re shit taken care of and fall asleep, morning will creep up so fast that it’ll feel like you never left,” he assured me.

I nodded, preparing to stand. I hadn’t gone pee in hours and the moment I stand I bet I’ll feel it…But I’ll hold it. The faster I get my sleep, the faster I can get back here, just like Pete says.

“Help me up man, my legs are shot,” I grumbled as he took my arm almost instantly.

He pulled me up and I used him as a post for a moment, stretching out my legs that made insane pops as I stood. I used the gate on the bed to steady me as Pete made it his chore to replace the chair I had been using for the past two days in the corner from wince came. He came towards me now with my jacket in his hands.

“You’ll need this, its fuckin’ cold out there,” He warned, I wanted to throw some sarcasm at him, saying something stupid like ‘That’s what you get with winter’, but I managed to hold back.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I slipped my arms in, zipping it all the way up.

I glanced back to Andy, strange seeing the same picture over and over, no matter how much time passes you by. I leaned down, my lips connecting softly with his forehead for one moment that felt like ten thousand. It always did when I kissed him.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” I whispered, almost inaudible.

I then followed Pete to the door, my eyes glued to the still picture of Andy in the starchy white bed surrounded by his machinery. My eyes left him however when the wall soon blocked all sight of him.

I only pray that he’s still that picture when I return, my dignity depends on it.

So yeah, should I keep going or is it too blah?

PS this is an exclusive post in the FOB slash community Midnight_Party, join today ^^ lol

TMTAPCH: Part 14

theunderdogunit — Thu, 06 Oct 2005 03:53:36 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating:PG-15 to R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Very...Twisted...
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. 14!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 14

Patrick’s POV

It was more like that awkward silence that blanketed a room when someone had said the wrong thing at the wrong time, hoping it’d be funny, when in reality it isn’t. Well yeah, that’s what was in progress at the moment.

Joe sat curled in a tight ball on the floor against the wall that faced the beds; Andy was sitting Indian-style on the bed they’d be sharing; Pete was next to Joe only standing, leaning against the wall with his hood pulled up, arms crossed and a pouty emo kid look on his face; And me, I was sitting on the edge of the bed Peter and I would be sharing.

It was weird indeed, no one wanted to talk, we all wanted to kill each other, and we all were just in pissy attitudes.

Andy never told me what he and Joe had been talking about, even after Joe had decided to go after Pete (ten minutes after Pete had left mind you). Whatever it was, though, I didn’t need to be informed that it wasn’t a happy conversation. The looks they wore said it all and the silence between them…It was a little disappointing.

Attention was set to Pete as he gave out an over exasperated sigh, his hands rubbing at his eyes. He’d been crying…I knew because the only time he’d do that sigh with the combination of his hands rubbing every inch of his face was after he’d cry.

“I think we should all just sleep…I’m fuckin’ sick of being awake…Christ’s sake, I’d rather be dead, throw myself off the God damn building,” He growled, rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t say that Peter,” I mumbled.

He was so stupid in these moods. We all know that he can and will do damage to himself when he swings into these moods. He’s done it before, and he’s always fucking around with the thought of suicide…Which pisses me off to no end.

“I’d rather you not tell me what to do, Patrick” He bit back at me.

“Well I will once you grow the fuck up, Peter,” I shed my pants, throwing them to the pile of clothes we had all donated to, “And Peter, be my guest and throw yourself off the building, because no one here wants to deal with your shit,” I said rather harshly before tugging the blankets over my head, reaching out to throw my glasses onto the stand.

He made me so angry some times. Not often…Maybe twice a year. This level angry anyway, happened only twice a year. Yeah we had our little squabbles, but a shared shower usually fixed that.

Whatever, I’m too tired to deal with any of his emo problems at the moment. I just need to sleep.

---

My eyes opened slowly, I saw nothing. Seeing nothing told me that it was still night, which meant I still had sleep to cram in. I was on my side…Weird how when you fall asleep, then wake up in a different position…Well maybe that’s just me that finds it weird but still.

I felt movement. I noticed then that I had an arm around my stomach and a body pressing into my back. I felt the familiar steady breathing expelling from Pete’s nose onto my neck.

Just another fight that blows over. I know once we blow up at each other…Things go back to normal. It’s weird I know…But at the same time, I know everything is going to be fine.

---

The moment I opened my eyes I knew it was after noon. Why, or how for that matter, I was let alone to sleep is beyond me. I stared at the large window that towered over the bedding area for quite a while, staring at the light that shined through.

When I rolled over I expected to see the guys, Pete especially since he was the one that actually liked to sleep in. However, I didn’t see him…Or the others, not one trace of them actually. Joe and Andy’s bed was even made, and the pillows beside mine looked untouched by a sleeping figure. They must have made it…for some odd reason.

I guess I was too used to it to really even care much. They were probably in either one of three places; downstairs raiding the vending machines, the bus, or out to eat without me. But that’s not likely…They know I need my food.

I sat up, taking in a deep breath, a slight pain flowed and bound around my rib cage. Must have slept on them wrong, either that or the bed is too springy. I did my traditional insane scratching of my head before smoothing out the mussed hair. After stretching out my arms, getting out all the creeks and cracks, I shimmied over to the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over and standing way too fast, causing me to wobble for a moment.

Unlike Pete, and a lot of other people for that matter, I didn’t normally have to pee in the morning… I guess I’m just special like that.

As I was pulling up my jeans, stuffing my feet into my yellow sneakers, and reaching for a random shirt from the pile of clothes we had all contributed to, I glanced to the room’s door getting a flash of white. I snatched up a shirt, pulling the green material over my head as I made my way to the paper that was hanging on the door. I tugged it from the small piece of tape that held it and looked at it closely.

“You’re almost there…” I read allowed.

The writing was fairly neat, with an arrow that pointed up. It was Pete’s hand writing, no doubt about that. I was no less confused. I looked up, like the arrow instructed me, but the ceiling was the only thing that gazed back at me. Whatever, he was pretty weird anyway.

I opened the door slowly, still staring at the note. I glanced up after the door clicked shut behind me. I smiled. That’s what the dork meant.

I stared down the long hallway that led to the elevators. The arrow he had written was pointing me to the hallway, not the ceiling. It was a little weird though, the entirety of all three halls that joined were empty. I don’t think of all the hotels I’ve stayed in, that I’ve ever seen the halls completely lifeless at one in the afternoon. I shrugged it off, making my way down the hall, elevator bound.

I noticed then, walking to the elevator, that a white rectangle of paper took residence on one of the doors. As I drew closer, I held up the other note, looking at it again before stopping at the elevator. I reached out and pulled the note from the mahogany colored door.

Again, it read in Pete’s steady writing, ‘You’re almost there…’ only this time it had an arrow that pointed down.

This was getting a little strange. I jabbed the button with the small down arrow with my thumb, the doors opening immediately. That’s lucky, they usually wait twenty minutes before they decide to open for me.

I stepped in, suddenly getting an insane chill as the doors shut rather quickly. Wrapping my arms around myself I looked to the buttons. This time only a small note stared back at me. Still, the writing read, ‘You’re almost there…’. It had no arrow accompanying it this time, just the writing. I reached out and took it slowly. The button that it was taped to was the lobby, so I reached out, unconsciously pushing it as the elevator jutted into motion.

God, its freezing in here…I could feel my entire body tightening in order to keep insolated. My stomach made that sick jump as the elevator stopped, making it pretty quickly from the fifth floor to the ground floor.

I stepped out into yet again, a freezing cold. I shivered a bit, noticing a vending machine to my slight right, a note taped to its side.

Before I even moved to read it, I was too distracted by the huge mob of people crowded into the giant lobby. Every single one of them seemed to be pushing and shoving, standing on the tips of their toes and trying to see over one another. This quirked every inch of curiosity left in me.

I blindly took the note from the machine, forcing it in front of my face, tearing my eyes from the crowd to read it. This one…Read differently.

‘You’ve made it now…They shall part…Once they sense…A beating heart…’

I frowned at it, reading it over and over in my head…What the hell did he mean by this one?

I noticed something then…The cold was gone…And the low murmur of the crowd had ceased. And a feel of complete eeriness washed through my veins. My eyes trailed up the paper slowly…Agonizingly slow…Looking back to the mosh of people.

Every…Single…Person…was looking at me. Not one eye that I could see was looking elsewhere. My breathing shallowed as I saw them starting to shuffle…Start to divide, eyes still glued to me. In mere moments they had formed a neat, straight path, directly down the center of them. My feet, against my will, started moving forward, through the people and through the straight and narrow path that led right to the front doors.

Their eyes still watched me as my feet moved my stiff body… This had way over gone the creepy factor. My eyes stared at the entrance doors, through them I could see yellow tape…Caution tape maybe?

Oh man…I hope our bus didn’t blow up over night…That would just suck.

I reached the doors, my arms extending to push them open. I swear my body was acting on its own…And it was frustrating to not be able to control it.

Police…Police, rescue, firemen…They were everywhere with solemn and defeated faces. My eyes traced the yellow tape. It wasn’t caution tape at all…It was crime scene tape. I wasn’t sure what to think as my body dragged me closer. The bright sun didn’t help the hundreds of flashing lights surrounding me. Suddenly I spotted Joe and Andy, standing stoic to my left.

“Guys?” I whispered, the absence of Pete was starting to gnaw at me.

They said nothing to me, their eyes and faces stayed steady and emotionless. Then in unison they raised their left hands, pointing behind me. I turned sluggishly to see what they were pointing at. All I saw, however, were two burly officers back to me, speaking under their breath. And there went my feet, pulling me closer towards them.

I listened carefully as they spoke…

“It wasn’t an accident…”

“Then it was…”

The slightly smaller one nodded.

“It was suicide.”

“Why would a guy like that kill himself when he has so much going for him?”

My eyes widened.

“I don’t know…He just jumped,” They looked skyward to the very top of…The building…

“The fire rescue tried to convince him otherwise…But he just jumped.”

“What’s the kid’s name anyway?”

“The ID clipped to his belt loop said Peter Wentz.”

My stomach lurched as my mouth ran dry. This isn’t possible…

“Dead before he hit the ground I’d wager.”

“No…” I whispered, shaking my head.

They started to turn slowly…That’s when I saw their faces for the first time.

It was something straight out of a horror movie. Their faces were cut, smashed in and bleeding down their uniforms as they looked at me like nothing was wrong through the mask of blood and chunks of hanging skin fragments.

“Can we held you sir?” They asked me in unison.

My breathing came frantic as I put my hands up in defense, my feet carrying me in slow paces backwards. I swung around, faced with the mob of people now. All of them were deformed now…I was surrounded in blood; it was everywhere…All over the walking corpses, on the ground…Even Joe and Andy…Zombies! That’s what they were!

Tears streamed down my face as my hyperactive breathing caused heart flutters.

“Get away from me!” I sobbed, batting at the nearing bodies, skin melting off their faces, exposing bare and bloody skull.

It stopped then…Time that is…Everything stopped, the bodies in mid walk were frozen, everything froze except myself. I was shaking insanely, my entire body making spastic tremors. I felt a hand on my shoulder then. I swung on the intrusion, slapping it away quickly. I stared back at Pete…A perfectly unharmed Pete.

“What’s…going on?” I sobbed again, my hands going to my mouth.

He only stared at me…Stared at me long and hard with a stern face. I turned to look behind me…Everything was now gone. No walking dead people…No police or rescue…Absolutely nothing but an empty parking lot.

I looked back to Pete.

“WHA!? PETE!”

I screamed, a burst of tears streaming down my face as I sucked air in through my clasped fingers that covered my mouth and nose.

He had totally transformed from his pretty figure to a mutilated corpse. His right arm at the elbow was cracked in the opposite way…His left knee the same. His body was bumpy looking from bones poking through the skin. And his face…His perfect, delicate and beautiful face…Scratched and bleeding, tar-burned and crushed from impact.

“Why?” He whispered.

I only shook my head staring at him, tears flowing that I felt would never stop.

“Why’d you kill me?”

“No…” I instantly said, shaking my head furiously, “I didn’t! You jumped!” I yelled, closing my eyes tight, clutching my fists in my hair.

“You pushed me,” He whispered.

“No!” I yelled, my jaw clenching, my knees getting weak.

“Your words pushed me off the edge Patrick…”

I let out a strained sob I had been holding as I sank to the ground.

“You told me to jump…I did it for you. I’ll do anything for you…” He was in my head now, his voice echoing in my ear drums.

“No Peter,” I whimpered, burying my face into my hands, “I didn’t mean it…”

“Your words are powerful Patrick…They mean much more than you realize…They have a much heavier impact than you realize…”

I only sat there, sobbing, whimpering and bawling my eyes out.

“And I’m taking you to hell with me.”

I shot my glance to his suddenly dark and horrifying voice.

My breath caught. I was standing on the edge of the tall building now…Staring down at police and rescue. I glanced up, the morbid face of Peter glared back at me.

“Everything will be okay…Once we’re dead…”

With that, his bloodied hands grabbed me as he hurtled both of us off the building. My screams deafened my own ears as the fall took my breath almost instantly. I managed to scream his name over and over before the tar came into view.

Closer…

Closer now…

“You’re almost there…”

I could see the granules of sand…

Closer…

AND!

“PATRICK!!”

I shot up screaming at the top of my lungs. Warm tears staining paths on my face. I gasped for breath, grabbing my chest as I sat in starchy bed of the hotel room, panting and sobbing. I felt a hand grip my shoulder. I screeched and batted at it, “GET AWAY FROM ME!!” I screamed, flailing, until I flaied myself right out of bed…Hitting the itchy rug rather hard.

“Patrick what the fuck?!”

I glanced up at Pete, who was towering over me, “What’s the matter?!”

I was hyperventilating as I stared up at him, “You’re…a-alive?”

“…Yes…” He whispered, looking at me as if I were insane.

I saw Joe and Andy appear over me as well now, “Whoa man…What’s up? You scared the shit outta me,” Joe rasped.

“You… You j-jumped…And di-die—”

“Christ Patrick…Take a fucking breath…” Pete whispered, I could see tears glossing his eyes as he shuffled off the bed and down next to me, placing his hands on my cheeks, “You were having a nightmare…Look at me, I’m fine”

Easier said than done, breathing was harder than it seemed when in the flipping out mode. I stared wide-eyed at him as he shook his head, repeating to me to just breathe. I suddenly shot up and latched onto him, crying vigorously into his bare shoulder.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean what I said! I’m sorry!” I wailed, probably holding tight enough to cut his circulation off.

He ‘shhed’ me over and over, rocking with me as I cried on him, telling me he was fine, that he wasn’t going anywhere…

I felt pain all over, as if I had hit the bottom. My head throbbed but I just kept crying…It wouldn’t stop.

“Its fine…Shh, Patrick…”

So uh...I didn't proof it...Its late...I'm frickin tired...If the errors are gonna bug you that bad...Then let me know and I'll proof and repost it T_T So anyway, you just read one of my finest twisted pieces in a long time...Feel honored yet? Yeah...Please stone me to death at any point in time...

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 13

theunderdogunit — Sat, 01 Oct 2005 04:15:13 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating:PG-15 to R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Pete's emo rampage XD
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. 13!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 13

Peter’s POV

I wanted to smash my fucking phone to bits. The stupid ring tone Patrick had put on there was driving me insane, as I mashed the little red hang up button for the hundredth time. I was pretty much fuming by the time I exited the hotel. It didn’t help that is was fucking cold.

I had changed in the bathroom, into these ass-ugly sweatpants that used to belong to Kate…Before I stole them. I don’t know why, gray isn’t my color. I threw a random shirt on…Inside out. All in a mad rush to get out of there and away from them.

I pulled my zippie tighter around me, flipping the hood up and over my head, clutching the strap of my bag over my shoulder. I then pressed the power button to my phone until it sounded off. I’ll be damned if I answer his calls.

I really had no idea where I was going…I had no idea where I was for that fact. I felt a pull in the back of my head that said I should go back, apologize for the emo outburst and go on with my happy little life.

But then there was that majority of my brain that said fuck them. They’ve kept many things from you and you’re fed up with them…Give it a rest.

Yeah I’ll give it a rest…Just, where is the question. I walked past the busses, memories flooding through me. Like our expressions when we first got that blue and chrome beast. It dawned on me then…Why not spend the night away from them here. Brilliant Peetah.

I ambled over to the door, tossing my bag to the ground. I yanked on the handle. I stared blankly. Locked… Locked…Locked!

Who would fuckin’ lock the bus!? What the hell were they thinking? What if one of the fucking members gets pissed and needs to get the fuck away!?

Needless to say I was getting more and more pissed, so much so to the point now where I just wanted to fucking knock something out and cry. I snatched my bag off the ground, pulling it roughly back over my shoulder. I turned to the bus and slammed the side of my right first into it…For good measure.

“Pete!”

I swung around to the voice that had hollered my name. Joe. I turned my back immediately to him, proceeding on my path to God knows where.

“Pete, stop!” He called, by the slight skipping of his voice I could tell he was jogging towards me.

I could have easily out run the bastard, but I was too tired of shit to do any of it right now.

“Would you stop for Christ’s sake?!”

He was next to me now, yanking on my wrist.

“Let…go,” I snapped like a child would, wrenching my hand from his grasp.

“You won’t even fucking listen to me!” He yelled, echoes surrounding us as we went on yelling back and forth like kindergarteners fighting over a crayon.

“I don’t wanna fucking listen to you!” I pretty much screamed, stopping in my pace.

My hands shot to the top of my head, fingers tugging roughly at the hair that I prized as I fell into a crouching position on the pavement. It went silent then…No remark screamed back at me, no footsteps coming closer to me, nor walking away from me…Not even the sound of our breathing…

I glared hard at the tar in front of me, fingers tightening in my dark mess of hair. I clamped my jaw shut as I felt it coming…The one thing I thought I was strong enough to hold in.

That one fucking tear that trailed down my nose started the flow of many to follow.

“I just…Want to be alone…” I growled through my teeth, sucking in a harsh breath, feeling the throb of my head at the blood boiled from my growing anger.

“Pete…You said you didn’t want secrets…So I’ll god damn tell you what was said, just get out of this little puddle of suck that you’re drowning in,” His voice had fallen to a dull murmur.

My chest was spasing-out as I tried to steady my silent sobs, but to no prevail. I didn’t look up at him. Only allowed myself to fall back onto my ass on the pavement, my brow knitting together as my eyes kept the spot they had been glaring at.

“Listen…” He spoke softly, moving closer to me, and eventually sitting on the cool tar beside me, “I’m sorry for not speaking up back at the room…But whenever you flip out like that it catches me way off guard and I get a little tweaked myself…”

I didn’t say anything, only furiously rubbed at my eyes, wiped my nose on my sleeve and continued the harsh breathing pattern. I didn’t blame him…I’d be scared of me too if I freaked out like that on someone. I sort of respected that he had the balls to come out and hunt me down though…

“Plus…What Andy said to me I’d rather not revisit anyway…But I will for you,” He said barely above a whisper.

For the first time I looked up at him, I could see the muscles in his temples flex as he felt my eyes on him. Andy said something…Mean?

He sighed, “He uh…He took me around here, by the busses and we talked… Sort of, he did most of the talking. He…He basically told me Pete, that I need not get excited over him…Because he’ll never be waiting for me at the end of a long and crooked path…”

My heart sunk deeper.

“He… said that…?” I asked slowly, my eyes narrowing.

He turned and looked at me, a smile on his face as his eyes glazed with tears I’m sure he resented.

“Yeah,” He laughed, his whole being trying so hard not to let what dignity he had left flow away through shameful tears.

He rubbed his forehead, a shaky breath coming from his mouth, “And that’s it…That’s what neither of us cared to talk about because he asked me not to…But…” He bit his lip, looking down at the zipper he was playing with on his jacket.

I didn’t know what to say…Sorry couldn’t possibly be enough…

“Joe…I, I honestly don’t know what to say…I’m sorry’s are far too overrated…”

He smiled, not looking back to me, “It’s alright…It’s not even your fault.”

For some reason though…I felt like it was my fault. I always felt like it was my fault whenever someone close to me was dragged down by not only me but an outside source. I dragged everyone down this time…I dragged everyone into my one giant puddle of suck. And I was no less a dick for doing so. I owed everyone an apology…

Joe stood suddenly, “Its too cold out here…Come with me back inside. You don’t have to talk to any of us…We just want you safe…”

He took my arm gently, tugging me up, he then reached for my bag that I had thrown, pulling it over his own shoulder. I stared…I only stared.

After being the biggest jerk…After flipping out on him…After all the shit I drag him through he’s always been my best friend and always will be. I felt the warmth return to my eyes as my tear ducts started to form more of the salty fiends.

I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around him tightly, squeezing my eyes shut as more little dots of annoying water fell from my eyes. His arms found there way around my skinny self, holding me just as tight, rubbing my lower back.

Now I guess that’s left to do is think up some damn good apologies…

-wollows in own puddle of suck- Wow..Okay so it sounded much better in my head...Then I wrote it down and now its stupid sounding >.> Sorry faithful readers...I'll make it up to you.....

STMTAPCH (wow...) Part 12!

theunderdogunit — Wed, 28 Sep 2005 20:47:17 GMT

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-***

theunderdogunit — Sat, 17 Sep 2005 06:12:41 GMT

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. 11!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 11

Patrick’s POV

However all this started…Is a huge mystery I think I will never understand, one, because it was Pete’s idea, two, because I went along with it.

Joe sat down timidly on my hips, “Like this?” He gave a look to Peter, who shuffled around and crouched down to examine his position.

“Nah, a little more down, you gotta get it so that you’re little dude, is on top of, his little dude,” He said as if it was a science lab.

“Pete he’s fine…” I mumbled; he was too. The extra weight of Joe was somewhat of a weird sensation, probably because he was heavier than Pete and it was just a new feeling.

Joe however moved down…I so hated when Pete was right all the time. Sarcastic asses don’t deserve that right. But, when Joe moved down ever so slightly it made one hell of a difference. I actually had to sit up slightly, I was getting a little too excited.

I heard Pete laugh as I closed my eyes and sucked in a long breath, “See look! It’s working,” I then felt his hand ruffle my hair, “You’re lucky anyway Joe, Patrick’s pretty easy to get sexed up.”

“Shut the hell up,” I exhaled, opening my eyes to glare at him as he fell down into a half lying position on the bed next to us.

“Enough chit chat. Joe, guys don’t wait all night, do what comes next,” Peter prodded; he sure knew how to make people feel weird about themselves.

I felt Joe grip lightly at the bottom of my shirt as our eyes met. He stopped and just stared at me. Yes, it was really awkward…

“Alright! This is perfect, stop, both of you,” I blinked before watching Pete bounce off the bed and over close to me and Joe, “See Joe, when you’re in a situation where you’re just stuck staring at your boy…Kiss him. There’s nothing more dramatic than locking eyes, sharing passionate kisses followed by hot sex.”

“I could think of a few…” I mumbled.

“Patrick, be good and cooperate or I’ll deprive you of every ounce of sex I can provide.”

I turned my head to him; I could feel his smile, knowing damn well he just won…Again.

“I don’t get it though,” I glanced to Joe who had a clear look of confusion on his face as he spoke to Pete, “You kiss the guy to death and that eventually leads to hot guy sex?”

“Well yeah, in our case anyway. See, Patrick’s like a drug, you hug him…You want more, you kiss him…You want more, you fuck him…You want more. Seriously, try it, go ahead and kiss him…Like ya mean it,” He had to add that…Bitch.

I leaned back on the bed, head falling to the starchy pillows as Joe moved slightly to his hands and knees, hovering over me. The staring competition returned, neither of us making a move. Having Pete watching us so intently made me a little weird feeling, but I’ve done crazy shit for him before…Nothing involving Joe however…

I moved my knees up slowly to support his butt as he sank down close to my face, his body pressing to mine. I glanced to Pete, who looked like he was ready for some action to jerk off to. Looking back to Joe I caught a quick flash in his eye before his lips touched mine and our eyes shut simultaneously. His hands went to my cheeks, mine to his hips. I couldn’t really get a taste from him. His kiss was firm, straight forward. I guess it would be up to me to mellow it out for him.

I squeezed his hips and arched into him, taking full advantage of his opening mouth. I slid my tongue into the warmth of his mouth, doing a quick round-a-bout before pulling away, my head feeling a bit dizzy.

“What’s the matter Patrick?” I heard Peter ask as I attempted to relax myself.

“Just getting dizzy…”

“Alright, perfect time to do some explaining Joe. First off, when Patrick starts to get dizzy, it means he’s getting super horny and wants sex real bad, so he’s gonna try and calm that down so he doesn’t end up raping you. Second, that cool little trick he did with the little hump, that’s his own made up move, you can steal it, just credit him. It’s a creative little way to shove your tongue into someone’s mouth.”

He sure as hell liked to talk.

Joe looked at me a little weird, “It wasn’t my idea,” I shot him a look, “Just remember that.”

“Yeah,” Pete perked, “It’s just to prepare you for hot sex with Andy.”

“You’re forgetting that Andy—”

“No, did you not see the displayed jealousy when you were busy getting a hard on from Corey? He was clearly pissed.”

Joe said nothing. Andy was acting weird, just like he was jealous or something childish like that. I’ve seen him behave strangely, but nothing to this extent. I mean, it’s twelve at night and Andy decides he needs a veggie burger…No one does that.

“Yeah, that was confusing…” Joe mumbled.

There was a moment of that weird silence…It was also weird that Joe was deep in thought while I was trying my hardest not to hump him.

“Alright my friend, hop up and let the pros demonstrate for you,” Pete’s cooing voice caused my heart to jump.

Joe slid off of me and slinked to the other bed, sitting on the edge as Pete placed himself slowly in between my legs. He glanced over to Joe.

“Removal of the pants is key,” He snickered, reaching up to unbuckle slash unbutton my pants.

“Peter…” I clearly whined, “This is embarrassing.”

“Don’t lie Patrick my sweet, remember Robbie—”

“Okay shut the hell up,” I immediately cut him off.

Bad memories should be shot, buried, and never touched upon again.

Back to my pants situation…Okay so there was no more pants situation because they were now absent from me.

“Now I’m not exactly going to go all the way, but you’ll get the point by the time I’ve fished,” He grinned as he groped at my crotch, causing a serge to go through me and emitting a low throaty moan from me. I do congratulate him on catching me off guard, usually I’m better at this game.

The sound of the door opening made us jerk out of our previous lust filled sate of minds and watch as Andy entered the room. He turned, looking at us, a look of pure amusement spreading across his features.

“Wow, I missed out on some crazy shit,” He laughed…Our laughs were delayed and short lived in this…weird little moment.

“Hey Joe,” He spoke more serious this time, “I wanna talk to you, how about a walk?”

Joe stared at him as if he had sprouted a third head. Pete looked between the two like a cartoon character would before speaking up.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” And there it was…Not so cartoony but still speaking up.

Joe snapped out of whatever trance he was in and moved to slip on his shoes, grapping his brownish jacket before exiting the room with Andy.

Pete suddenly turned to me and was beaming, “Holy fuck I can’t wait to hear what he’s saying!” He squealed.

I smiled, what a nosey brat he was. I, however, was perfectly fine here, with the love of my life attacking my neck with kisses and nips. It was good enough or me…

Even though I am a little curious myself…

***Yeah so I'm like really tired and about to fall over...Sorry for mistakes or whatever...People wanted more so here it is lol...Brandie shall sleep now....Noight night***

Take me to a place called home: Part 10

theunderdogunit — Sun, 11 Sep 2005 22:50:11 GMT

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. 10!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 10

Peter’s POV

We were piled into another hotel for the, whatever millionth time this was. And I’m not sure how it all came to happen…But my dear Patrick was grinding my naked hips with his own like there was no fucking tomorrow. And then there was the scariest part of it, Andy and Joe. Making out on the bed across from us, and I was actually getting turned on by their whole spectacle.

I watched as their lips collided time and time again. Each time my, bellow the belt, got more and more excited. It didn’t help that Patrick was humping me and devouring my collarbone with his teeth, I’m sure there will be marks. I let my head roll back into the starchy pillows of the hotel bed, eyes sliding shut as his hands wandered, groped, and tugged.

“Pete…”

I made a small groan-like noise in response to the whisper of my name.

“Peter…”

Okay, that time it sounded a little distant…

“PETER!”

I shot upright, eyes flying open, and staring into the amused eyes of Patrick. I blinked one or twice, slowly looking him up and down. He was clothed…Fully clothed. I looked at the black Clandestine tee I wore…I was clothed too, what the fuck!? I shot my wide-eyed stare to the bed beside the one I was lying on…Empty. No erotic friction between Joe and Andy anywhere near or on it.

I fucking hate dreams…

“You seemed to be enjoying whatever you were happily dreaming about,” I glanced over at Patrick, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What?” I asked stupidly, sleep seems to make me very dumb when I first come out of it.

He gave me a smile before pointing slowly to my crotch. I followed his finger.

Again, my eyes grew fairly wide, “Fucker…” I growled, proceeding to sit up.

I heard the bastard laugh at me before feeling his hand wind around the back of my neck, pulling me lightly towards him until our foreheads met.

“I can think one really good way to get rid of that…” He purred.

“Is that so?” I smirked.

He pulled away slightly and nodded, “It only takes two things…” He took my hand and lifted it so we both had it in sight, “It only takes one of these, and…” He trailed off, I could tell he was holding back laughter, “And one of those,” He pointed to the bathroom.

I glared at him, snatching my hand out of his grasp, “Asshole,” I mumbled, moving slowly off the edge of the bed and towards the bathroom.

I could still here that little chuckle of his as I entered the blinding white of the bathroom.

---

“I ate too much,” I whined as I clutched my stomach and fell face first onto the bed Patrick and I would be sharing later on.

“You always over do it Panda. Your eyes are far bigger than your stomach,” Patrick said.

I felt the weight of the bed shift as he sat down, “Shuht hup,” I said into the blanket that my face was buried into.

“Yeah, I’m pretty full too,” I heard Andy say, the quite moan of the bed told me that he had sat down.

I lifted myself up on my elbows and turned slightly to give him a look, “You had a fuckin’ salad dude, how is that filling?”

He shrugged, bending over to untie his shoes. My eyes then found Joe, on the other side of the bed he’d be sharing with his…man-crush? He was unbuttoning the black shirt he had worn to the dining area of the hotel. Joe was weird in that way, he’d make sure he looked nice even for the simplest thing like going to Burger King. It was amusing.

What wasn’t amusing though was the fact that he had hardly spoken three words to any of us the entire night. I never really felt good when Joe was in his quiet think modes…It meant he was in a serious state of being…And serious just didn’t fit Joe. Whatever was on his mind, had to come off before I went crazy.

I sat up, a long throaty groan escaping me. For once I wished I hadn’t worn tight pants.

“I needa get out of these bitches,” I grumbled, standing up slowly and heading (hunched) towards my bag with spare clothing.

My attention was turned towards the door as we all heard a short series of knocks, then the small beep the door made when the card was slipped into the slot. We watched as the door cracked and Corey, our most resent bookie, stepped in, closing the door behind him.

He was a much better person to tolerate then Bitch 2.0…And far easier on the eyes. He was a fairly small guy, a similar body structure to my own. The ear-length shaggy brown hair on his head went nicely with his bright green eyes. He was a little older than me, twenty eight if I recall correctly.

He greeted us with his usual, “’Sup guys, I come bearing news,” in which he’d flash us his clip board that he was hardly ever without.

I couldn’t help but smile every time he was around. He was that type of guy that had that cute sense of innocence, like a virgin, only he was no virgin, at least that’s what my cousin says…

“What news brings you to our humble room this evening?” I asked in a cheesy Old English accent.

He laughed, scanning over his papers, “Well, tomorrow you knew you were to appear at Best Buy right?” He looked up at me, I nodded, “Okay, well that’s moved to Monday, so you have three days of relaxation in this place,” He fished with a small smile, he probably knew by now that we loved any days off we got. Not that we didn’t LOVE going to see the kids that make this all possible, but we’re human too, and we need some breaks now and then…Except Joe, he’s a robot.

Speaking of Joe…As Corey proceeded to tell us of next week, flipping through papers as he went, Joe had his eye on him the entire time. It was slightly weird, for Corey probably, who kept giving small glances towards the non-blinking Joe, but kept the majority of his green eye sight on me. Jesus! It was taking all I had in me at the moment not to burst out laughing. Corey had the most nervous face as he looked from Joe to me, and occasionally to Patrick or Andy.

“And Friday you’ll….What?”

He looked at me oddly, noting the face I wore…Scrunched and turning a slight shade of red as I held it all back. I shook my head and shrugged, a small smile cracking.

Joe so liked this guy and it was so obvious! The way he was staring so intent at him, and the way Corey tried to avoid it made me think that something was up.

“Okay…” He said, eyes trailing slowly back to his paper as he finished up with Friday’s schedule.

“Alright then, I guess that’s it,” He said, going through the pile of clipped papers once more before turning towards the door, “Night guys, try not to make a habit of a 3 AM bed time please,” He smiled.

What a cutie, “Yes mother,” I teased, a grin played on my face.

“That’s right, I am your mother for the time being. So, stay in your room and no fooling around in the hall ways,” He gave me a pointed look, “That mean’s you as well Pete. No free style skating, rough housing, playing, yelling, water sliding, or any other things that will get us thrown out.”

We couldn’t all help but laugh, except Joe, who only smiled and averted his eyes. This Corey dude fit right in, and seeing as I had the power over who came and went, I’d make sure he was around for a while…Especially if Joe had his eye on him. I made an unconscious devil like smile to myself as I thought of the many ways I could hook them up.

He soon left, leaving us in a slight silence. I returned to my first intent…A pair of boxers from my bag.

“Couldn’t have made that anymore obvious, Joe.”

I glanced over my shoulder to Andy.

“What?” Joe looked shocked.

“The only thing missing was drool seeping down the corner of your mouth,” Andy mumbled, standing and moving towards me.

He unzipped his bag, which was next to mine, and dug around in it, not giving anyone a glance. Did I just hear a tinge of…jealousy? I stared at him blankly, him not giving me anything in return as he retrieved his tooth brush and left the three of us in dumb silence as he walked contently towards the bathroom.

……

What the fuck just happened?

***Hehe...Tis all I'm going to say ^^ -skuttles away-***

My happy randomness

theunderdogunit — Thu, 08 Sep 2005 20:14:00 GMT

Okay, so this is what I do when I have writer's block and really bored lol! I was cleaning my room lastnight and when I finished I sat down at my desk to start writing up on Part 10...Well, I don't know if this happens to you, but everything on my desk seemed to destract me. From the little mice collection I have, to the tiny pencil shaving that I found O.O. So yeah....Not being able to write sucked for me AND for any of you that are reading it, so I'm sorry lol! But I noticed my lonely digi cam...and put it to pointless use lol...So here you are ^^ My night last night!

Lol, it's still only a small collection (cause they are pricy) but dang! Aren't they cute!!

My friends Sara and Cory visitededed me! I'm so special ^^

Peek-a-boo I see yoo!

My randomness even scares myself lol! But I would like to lick Billie Joe hehe

I got a new comforter! Isn't it cuuuuuute?! Lol

World, I introduce you to the legendary Tuke, the one responsible for my stories and insanity...He whispers ideas in my ear at night of potential plots lol!

MeAndTuke! And my new hair...but I don't think you guys ever saw my old hair lol oh well ^^

MeAndTukeAgain!

Muh poor burnted hand!

My icky burn blister...Thought you'd want to see lol! It actually looks a lot better than it did before lol!

The best belt buckle EVER! Worth the $20 I had to pay for it T_T

So someone asked me a while ago what motivates me or where do I get my ideas from...Here they are. 1. Tuke, he gives me all my brilliant ideas. 2. The color green...Don't ask...all my writing notebooks are green... 3. My favorite blue pen... That's where it all comes from lol

And last, but not least, I have a present for those of you fortunate enough to be my friend lol! Once all th hecktic picture taking and randomness was over I had a sudden urge to draw another chibi PeterPanda. I added some of the lyrics from Sophomore Slump or Come Back of the Year...

I also added the whole "Star light Star bright FIRST STAR I SEE TONIGHT I wish I may I wish I might Have the wish I wish tonight...Okay I left out "Have the wish I wish tonight" on purpose...I however didn't mean to leave out "First star I see tonight"...But I noticed this AFTER I inked lol....So do forgive me on that lol

So I hope you enjoyed my completely random and pointless post!!!

♥.Brandie.♥

Take Me To A Place Called Home: P. 9

theunderdogunit — Mon, 05 Sep 2005 06:36:28 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating:PG-15 to R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Patrick’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 9!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 9

Patrick’s POV

Well, he was about as red as a maraschino cherry. From his ears to his hands, that were in a tight knot on the table top. His eyes looked so concentrated on his hands that it was like they were going to explode any moment without notice.

I cleared my throat and shut my mouth that had been hanging open for the past five…Very silent minutes.

“It’s, uh, It’s alright Joe,” I said, still a little surprised that he actually kissed Pete.

“No, it’s actually not…It means I’m a—”

“Don’t say it!”

Pete interrupted him abruptly. My guess is that Joe was about to say ‘fag’. My sweet Peter has a big problem with the term. He never appreciated how lightly it was used or the fact that he had to grow up listening to it every day of his life when in school.

“…Sorry…” Joe mumbled, head bowing further down.

I studied him. He wasn’t normally the type to hide things. He was pretty much the most straight forward guy that I’d known, besides Peter of course.

“So, how long?” Pete prodded.

Joe shrugged, “I don’t know…A couple months?”

Liar!

He was so acting weird far more than just a ‘couple months’.

“Have you told anyone? Other than us?” Pete pressed on; I wonder when Joe would crack…

We watched him shake his head slowly.

“Not even Andy?” I asked cautiously, him and Andy were best friends, I would expect he’d tell him.

“No, the last person on earth I’ll be telling is Andy…” He grumbled, one of his tense hands going to the back of his head to scratch at it.

“How come?” I asked.

He didn’t answer me, only gave me a small and semi shy-looking glance. Pete, of course, caught this look.

“No fucking way…” My eyes went to Pete, who looked brighter than the God damned sun, “You like him, don’t you!?”

“Shut up! Jesus…And no, I don’t!” He growled back at Pete.

The devilish smile didn’t falter on Peter’s perfect face, “Hell yes you do,” He teased.

“He has a friggin’ girlfriend you asshole.”

“That doesn’t give you the excuse to not like him,” I added bluntly, taking a sip of water from my bottle.

He shot me a look, “You seriously think I like him?”

“Like who?”

Our eyes traveled to Andy, who stood staring back at us while eating his bowl of rabbit food. He halted in his chewing for a moment, looking from Pete, to Joe, then to me.

“…Okay?” He mumbled.

“Yo— OW!”

Joe owes me a thank you.

I had graciously stopped Panda from telling Andy Joe’s fairly large secret. My foot had suddenly undergone a spastic reflex into Pete’s shin…Oops.

He gave me a pathetic look, I gave him the ‘shut up or I’ll rip your dick off’ look in return. He desperately needed a lesson on when to keep his mouth shut; I of course helped out whenever possible.

“We were just talking about Joe’s latest girl crush…” I lied, my eyes leaving Pete’s ashamed face to focus on Andy.

Andy gave me a weird look before turning to go for the mini fridge, “Joe doesn’t like girls.”

He spoke as if Joe wasn’t even present! The three of us at the table were wide-eyed at this point. And here I was thinking that Joe couldn’t possibly turn a worse shade of red.

“My life as I knew it is over…” I heard him grumble as his arms folded on the table top and his face buried into them.

---

The past three days have been nothing but inscrutable. And yesterday’s performance for Cleveland was horrid…I felt bad when we left the stage.

Joe was in a mood that made him damn near motionless on stage. Pete was still complaining that his ass hurt, meaning he hardly moved and his screaming was off. I was worried about the both of them, causing my performance to be half assed and my mind in a million different places at once. The only one of us giving it his best, as always, was Andy.

Andy wasn’t too pleased with us either. He, if I remember correctly, said he was ‘embarrassed to be seen on the same stage’ with us and that we needed to ‘get our heads out of our asses for once’. Needless to say…It wasn’t pretty. A sit down with Andy pacing in front of us and almost on the verge of yelling his lecture…Is never a good thing.

So yeah, today has been nearly silent between the four of us. Of course Panda can’t shut up, so he’s the exception. I’ve sat here with a blank piece of paper and a pen for about an hour and a half. Writing an apology had never been more difficult. Watching the car on the highway however, couldn’t have been more distracting. If Peter had been next to me we would be playing the license plate game, or the pick a car color and count how many you see game. That’s how cool we are…

I looked back down at the paper, doodling seemed more inviting that the words We’re Sorry.

“Hey, what’cha up to?” I glanced to Pete, who had taken residence in the open space next to me.

“Trying to throw together words to apologize to Andy…” I mumbled, setting the pen down for the hundredth time.

I leaned back, letting a quite sigh out through my nose. I gazed over to Pete’s automatic seductive features.

“What?” I grumbled.

He grinned and leaned in closer to me, “Nothin’, you’re just such a good boy…” I felt his warm breath on my lips before I felt the pressure of his mouth to mine.

To him, a kiss or a grope solved everything. To me, it was a poor excuse to get in my pants. But…I really can’t complain…He was after all the best damn kisser I had encountered yet.

Once we separated for a moment I smiled, “So what was kissing Joe actually like?”

“Now if I were to answer that truthfully…You’d cut off my dick,” he spoke against my cheek.

I moved away from him slightly, giving him the ‘Oh really?’ look. He cracked a goofy smile.

“Oh don’t even! You’ve kissed plenty of other dudes and I haven’t asked once how it was!” He whined, pushing me lightly.

“Well that’s because you went and kissed them right after me to see how it was yourself!”

“…Beeitch,” He pouted.

I smiled. What a damn faker he was. He could pull off the best innocent face you’d ever see.

“Don’t pull that face with me Peter Wentz. You know damn well that you’re the best fak—”

“Let’s play a game,” He cute me off.

I raised an eyebrow in response.

He grabbed my blank paper and my pen from my lap and tossed it on the other side of me. He instead replaced the notebook’s spot with himself, settling into comfort on my thighs.

“The game is Peter does whatever he feels like with his boy, while Patrick cooperates and says nothing,” He bit at my bottom lip gently, his tongue dragging across ever so slowly.

“What if Patrick doesn’t like the rules?” I smiled deviously.

“That’s just too bad for Patrick…Isn’t it?” The last part of his little statement was complimented with the fierce and quite unexpected grabbing of my crotch.

He was granted a surprised strained groan and a reflex of my hips into his. I watched him smile at his…handy…work. What a prick me was sometimes. And God did I love every bit of it.

His hand and hips worked together to cause some serious sparks down bellow while his lips and free hand worked my upper half.

“Is it uh…Wise to do this in the open llii—like this?” I half moaned and half forced as I let my head loll back, his lips devouring my neck.

I received an incoherent grunt from him, his hand finding its way under my tee. I lifted my head, which felt like a hundred pounds, to glance down at what the hell he was doing this time.

A flash of white however caught my eye first. I glanced fully in its direction, my eyes not believing what stood innocently in front of them.

The white belonged to Joe’s white army wife beater(1) that he only wore when he was sick of black. I stared at him. He, with his lazy eyes and body leaned against the frame of the small doorway, not to mention the hand that loosely hung off the waist of his pants.

My eyes grew a little wider as I frantically fixed the skewed glasses on my face and soon after jabbed at Peter’s side. He reeled on top of me and let out a half giggle as he sat up to look at me.

“What the hell was that….Patrick?”

He must have noticed my ‘HOLY SHIT’ expression, for he turned his head slowly to see what I was staring at. And soon enough the same look played on his face.

“Joe…?” He said it for me, seeing as I was too staggered to form any wording.

I watched the life return to Joe’s gaze as he quickly adopted the ‘HOLY SHIT’ look as well.

“Oh fu—Shit… I am so damn sorry…I uh…Damn it…” For Christ’s sake Joe, stop digging the hole.

I watched him hang his head, knowing full well we’d caught him in the act of watching our mini almost porn session.

“I’m sorry…” He shook his head.

Pete gave me a small look before he proceeded to remove himself from my lap. The absence of him made me want to kill something small and fuzzy. I couldn’t be mad at Joe though…I was once there…But God damn! Pick some other time would ya!?

“It’s okay Joe…” I forced, sitting up and clearing my throat.

*** (1) I thank legendof12world for the wonderful idea of the army wife beater lol!

So, comments? Yesh? Lol! Hope you enjoyed ^^***

Take Me to A Plae Called Home: Part 8

theunderdogunit — Fri, 26 Aug 2005 06:56:01 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating: R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Patrick’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 8!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 8

Peter’s POV

It had felt like one of those dreams that leave your pajamas sticky in the morning. The best part though, was that is wasn’t a dream. It had been at least two full weeks I had gone without sex, and shit, did I miss every glorifying millisecond of it!

I opened my eyes to slight darkness. I felt the gentle rocking of the bus, which told me it was in fast motion. I glanced around; I was in Patrick’s bunk. Identifying it wasn’t hard, the white sheets and not to mention his lovely aroma all over the pillow my face was half buried in. I was on my stomach, and felt the cool of a starchy sheet over me.

I went to sit a little upright. And wow was that a bad idea.

“Holy fff—UCK!” I didn’t intend for it to be that loud...

If only it had occurred to me that I had been too lazy…And horny…To get the lube, then I wouldn’t have moved. I’ve only done it two other times, not used it that is. Shit did I regret every little bit! I don’t regret getting the best fuck of my life, just the fact that I’d be in pain for about…Oh say a week. My ass muscles were shot to hell, or ripped, one or the other, but at the moment I didn’t care, I was in too much pain.

“Are you alright Pete?”

I winced at the bright light that flowed into the small bunk as Joe pulled the curtain open.

“Mm, no! I fuckin’ hurt!” I whined loudly.

I buried my face into the pillow as the pain spread from my ass and balls, up my spine to the back of my neck. It was like when your foot falls asleep and you get those damn tickly pins and needles. You accidentally move your foot and then you can’t stop moving it…Yeah that’s how my ass was at the moment. I clenched it once and then the pain just makes it do its own fuckin’ thing!

“Wrrsnprick?” I growled into the pillow.

“What?” He asked.

“Where is Patrick?” I repeated, lifting my head.

“He’s sleeping up front. You want me to get him?”

He was being far too kind…The last time I was fucked without lube and in this state…He laughed his God damn ass off at me! It was a little fishy.

“No, let him sleep,” I let my head fall onto the pillow again.

“Can I get you anything man?”

“A cool patch to shove up my ass,” I mumbled, glancing at him.

“Fresh out…” He made an attempt at humor.

“What time is it?”

I watched him disappear for a moment, probably getting the time off the microwave that was close by. He kneeled back next to me.

“2:13.”

“AM!? Well what the fuck are you still doing up?” I asked, he was usually sleeping heavily at twelve, at the latest.

He shrugged, shifting to sit down on his butt, “I kinda can’t sleep at the moment…”

“Because of the lovely image of hot man-sex invading your mind?” I smirked. I could still be a jackass even if I was in pain.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even look up from the floor…He just sat there with a thoughtful expression.

“Joe…?” I mumbled, eyeing him.

He looked to me and smiled, “You should get some rest.”

“I would if I wasn’t scared that my balls are gonna fall off…”

“That’s bad huh?”

This was really freaky, he sounded so sincere, so…Not Joe.

I stared at him for a moment, then I shrugged my shoulders a little, “That and my entire body hurts, my shoulders are bitches,” I said rolling my shoulders and closing my eyes. They really did hurt for some weird reason, probably from trying to hold my own dead weight up while still getting…yeah…

“You’re probably just tensed,” He offered.

How the hell would he know? Its not like a chick could give you such tight muscles…Unless she was really talented or some shit.

“I guess…” I mumbled, burying my face into Patrick’s scent again.

It was silent between us for what I was guessing, quite a few minutes. Then I felt a pair of hands creeping over my shoulder blades. Amongst the pain I swear I felt a chill. I looked slowly towards Joe, feeling then the gentle, yet firm, squeezing of his hands on my upper trapeziums…And damn did it feel good.

He glanced down at me, “It works for Andy’s shoulders when he’s had a rough night,” He spoke quietly.

“You’re telling me you rub his back?” This was getting good.

“Yeah…When he asks me too.”

I chuckled, are you fuckin’ serious?! I knew they were so getting it on. His hands paused.

“And I know what the hell your thinking, and it’s not true,” He grumbled, “Get your mind out of your dick for once…”

“I can’t help that,” I turned to smile up at him, “So what position is you guys’ favorite?”

I felt a sharp pain shoot through my back as he leaned his weight onto my lower back.

“OW! Bitch what the fu—”

“Shut up and shut your eyes! Relax for once okay. I’m going to help you too if you stop being an asshole,” He said evenly.

I bit back from saying some smartass remark, letting him loosen me up. I set my head back down on the artificial Patrick, taking in a big whiff. He sure knew how to relax someone…His hands worked my tight muscles, squeezing with his palms and fingers, while massaging with his thumbs.

“Mmm….That feels almost as good as when Patrick—”

“No, I’d rather not hear about what you two find feeling good” He said with a pause in his rhythm.

I let a small laugh escape me, “Well of course I don’t…You witnessed it yourself,” Shit to I crack myself up.

“You’re such a dick,” He mumbled.

“I know.”

It fell quiet after that exchange. I still was weirded out by Joe’s ‘lets be a little gay-ish tonight’ thing he was pulling. I wanted to ask, but he had me in such a state that my words would have been slurred and muffled. Where ever he learned this shit was beyond me, but he was damn good at it.

Beyond that point is just a blur to me as sleep laid her heavy blanket over me.

---

I woke up that morning with what felt like a hangover. The pain was absent from my back entirely. My ass was still a different story. I sat up slowly, able now. It still hurt like a bitch, but at least it didn’t paralyze me with pain.

I moved like a slug out of the bunk, little annoying grunts escaping me as I pulled myself out of the little sleeping quarters. I proceeded to pull myself off the floor, wincing as I stood upright. My tailbone felt like it was on fucking…I don’t know something along the lines of fire. I glanced down. When the hell did boxers find their way onto me?

“Should you really be standing?”

The cooing voice of Patrick flowed through my ear as I felt him press against my back.

I smiled, turning my head slightly, “Should you really be pressing that thing against an injured man’s ass?”

I felt his body tremble from a laugh, his hands finding a resting place on my chest. I let myself fall gently against him, the back of my head resting on his shoulder. I felt his cheek against mine, the breath from him flowing down my neck.

“How is it today?”

“A beeitch,” I mumbled, the feel of his hands squeezing lightly constricted my brain from any thought.

“That’s not good…” He purred against my skin.

His right hand slipping slowly down my torso, his thumb hooking into the waistband of the boxers that had mysteriously found me in my sleep.

“You’re obviously feeling better,” I laughed, lifting my own hand to secure around his neck.

“Much.”

“Can you guys seriously wait until we stop and I can leave or something?”

Our attention was on Andy who passed by us on his way to the front area of the bus.

“You’ve already turned Joe gay on us. I really don’t want to be next,” He called back when he was out of sight.

I shot a glance to Patrick. What the ef was he talking about? Joe had a girlfriend.

---

Dressing that afternoon was quite interesting. Patrick had to help me get into my pants. Being as tight as all of them are, I had trouble bending.

Searching for Joe in this bus had never been more difficult. It was like every place I’d look he’d be there after me. And when I’d go back he’d be in the other place. I gave up for a while; sitting with Patrick to eat God knows what that Andy made earlier. I actually didn’t find him, rather he found me.

“Hey guys,” He said, sitting down opposite us at the small table.

Luckily I was sitting on the outside of the booth-like seat. I shimmied out slowly, careful that I didn’t set anything off in the pain department down below. I moved slowly to sit back down, only next to Joe this time, both of them eyeing me curiously.

“Eeeaahh…” I grumbled through tightly shut teeth as I sat.

“So how long does it actually hurt for?”

What an information-seeking-question, Joe….

“So how’s Jenny?” I asked, ignoring him completely, and going right into the bigger picture.

“Who?” He looked at me as if I had three heads.

“Jenny, your girlfriend,” I searched his face.

His eyes moved from me to Patrick, who was peering at him with the same interest I had on my own face.

“I uh…I broke up with her a while ago.”

“How come you never told us?” I glanced over to Patrick, who had taken my question.

“When did the twenty questions game start?” He asked sarcastically.

“Joe, are you gay?” I asked bluntly.

“No!”

That answer came a little too quickly.

“You sure?” I asked, moving in closer to him, “Because Andy even says you are…People are starting to notice Joe,” Mischief clear in my tone, “It’s not something that can be hidden loooong…” God was I annoying or what?

“I’m not,” His eyes fell to the table, his voice was quiet.

“If you’re confused you know you can always come to the experts for help,” I chimed.

“Yeah, Pete’s always willing to be experimented on,” Patrick spoke into the water bottle he was drinking from.

I nodded, smiling broadly, “Always ready and willing,” I gave him a playful nudge with my elbow.

His eyes suddenly found mine. They definitely caught me off guard, for soon I wasn’t smiling anymore. They were a tad angry looking. What caught me even more off guard was the feel of his hands on my face, followed by a pair of harsh lips.

My eyes flew wide open, looking right to Patrick, who mirrored my expression. The harshness soon softened, revealing that our crazy Joe was a fairly descent kisser. And what was worse was that I was actually responding, moving in to hold my own.

He tore away quickly; eyes shut tight and face a shade of red I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

“Sorry,” He spoke evenly, not opening his eyes to look at either of us.

I was too dumbfounded to speak, I only looked to Patrick who was still wide-eyed with his mouth agape. What the hell were we going to do now? Now that it was a completely awkward moment with no where to run…

**I would like ALL to know that this fic is dedicated to legendof12world and her wonderful work of one of the best and twisted Petrick fics around, Logos Naki World. Read it or die! Loevly work and hope you enjoy the few final chapters of her's and my works =)

***Uh-ohhhhh….-evilcackle- Heheheeee stay tooned for the next episode!! As usual I love you all for comments and what nots ^^ Koo-kies are gewd too =D

PS

I don’t know if anyone knows where I can find any but…Okay I’ve become so obsessed with The All American Rejects lately and I was wondering if there was any slash between them o.o I haven’t seen any…So yeah if anyone knows of any I will draw you any chibi picture you want lol!!! Welp yeah, thanks for reading guys! Love to alllll!

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 7

theunderdogunit — Tue, 23 Aug 2005 05:40:10 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Patrick (FOB)
Chapter Rating: R
Warnings: Language
Summary: Patrick’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 7!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 7

Patrick’s POV

My breathing came short and shallow as he took my mouth hostage yet again. Such a new feeling every time, but such a timeless classic of pressed bodies and tangled limbs, sweet kisses and harsh hips. He made it new and old at the same time. Everything I expect, and then some twists and turns that were all too new to me.

He took my bottom lip in his teeth and massaged with his tongue, all the while his hands finding places to squeeze or rub. I tilted my head back with a slightly noisy exhalation of air from my nose as his lips graced my neck with their amorous hunger.

“Would you…Speed it up…” I partly groaned and partly demanded.

I felt that devious smile against my skin as he spoke softly, “Chill Mr. Patient, they’re eating, you know that takes forever when Joe’s with them.”

It was true. Joe took extra long ordering, then extra long eating the extra food he bought…

It was dinner time, we were in Connecticut now, somewhere, at the moment I really didn’t care about anywhere but right here. Right here on the long, slightly firm, maroon cushioned couch/bed-like seat in the back of the bus.

I rolled my hips against him, tugging at his shirt, “Come oo-N,” I moaned roughly against his shoulder.

He sat up, leaning back on my hips, putting even more pressure on my already painful and sex deprived (for the past month anyway) crotch.

He gave me his all too famous smirk, “Well alright.”

I half smiled as he dragged his hands from my shoulders to the belt on my pants. It was about time that ass do what he does best, I’ve only been lying on my back here for what seems like forever.

He leaned forward while fiddling with the belt buckle, placing a small kiss on my nose. I felt his hands leave my waist area after unzipping the denim jeans that restricted me. His hands snaked under my shirt, all the while his eyes sending silent and erotic messages to mine. I had stopped breathing for a moment, realizing this as my lungs started to scream. I took a quick breath through my mouth and took the bottom of his red ‘Monster’ shirt and yanked it, up and over his head.

“Easy killer,” He half mumbled and half laughed.

“Don’t even give me that. You’ve made me wait far too long,” I grumbled, as our mouths met again.

As his tongue fought a winning battle with mine, I was busy blindly unlatching his own belt. I felt around for the damn zipper, getting an unexpected mouth full of moan. I smiled, forgetting how easy it was to get one out of him. Once the zipper was down my hand was shoved into the tight confines of his girly little jeans… Lucky bastard, must be nice being so friggin’ tiny.

“Mm—” He broke away from me, swiftly sitting up, but hunching over again from the movement of my hand.

“Shh-iit,” He managed, a smile clearly forming on my lips.

He moved his hips into mine and my hand, his head tipping back, and his mouth falling open. He was quite gorgeous when he was in the midst of sex. He rammed into me hard while my thoughts were taking me over, nearly triturating my hand. I retrieved it quickly, giving him a look, which he didn’t catch. I’m not even sure if he noticed my hand was absent. He was pretty much blind now by the want.

I pulled at him, making him lean down on me. He, obviously, taking advantage of this and locked our lips in a fairly sloppy exchange. I started wrenching at the second skin, also known as his pants. A spasmodic seize erupted from my hips, he was incredible. I watched him glance down at the friction being endured by our hips, his hands moving slowly from my sides to the waist of my jeans once again.

He pulled hard at it, lifting himself on his knees in order to rid me of them.

And let there be freedom.

I wiggled the rest of the way out of them as he discarded them to the floor. He was right to work getting his off; a muffled curse came from him as he struggled. That’s what you get for wearing girl jeans Panda. I helped him as much as I could, tugging on the pockets until he too broke loose from the rough material.

He leaned against me once again. The only thing left of me now being my black Taking Back Sunday tee, which was soon gone once Pete noticed as well.

The feel of it all barely has any good words to describe it. His heated length grinding with mine; his heaving chest brushing mine; his kiss-swollen lips to mine; his hands sealed with mine…Its all too hectic and sweet to describe a certain feeling.

If one word was appropriate though…It stands for the feeling of having all the necessities, all the parts to complete the puzzle, no emptiness or open spaces. The state of total and utter…Completion.

“Where is it…?” He asked with a heavy breath.

“In my bag,” I forced through a tight throat.

He made a sound, “Forget it, I’ll just—”

“No,” I cut him off, “Go get it…” My voice did one of those stupid crackly numbers.

“No, I’m too fucking horny, let me just—”

“No you’ll hurt yourself,” I argued.

“God damn Patrick!” He harshly whispered.

I froze and watched him. Its like when you drop something and instead of trying to catch it, you watch it fall instead…Yeah that was the case here. He had leaned up so fast that I barely even saw it happen, and the next thing I feel is him coming down on me…On me.

His entire body shook from the sudden tight muscles and pain he had just inflicted on himself. What a jackass! If he had just gone to my bag and gotten the necessary lubricant he would have been fine, like always. But no, he’s pulled this before. The ‘I’m too horny’ shit so I’ll just tear my insides open instead.

Watching his face twist in pain and his body shake almost canceled the entire pleasure of it all…Almost. He was always tight, every single time and it made my head spin. It would take a lot for me not to just start driving into, and out of, him…Every ounce of self-control I had. I gripped his hips instead, squeezing while my body ached for action.

“J-just go…Do it alr-ready…” He strained through a clamped jaw and tightly shut eyes.

I stared at him for a moment as my body jerked awake. I started on him slow, just the standard ‘get used to it’ type of motion, his body (as much pain as it was in) managed to follow my rhythm. He wasn’t only an incredible sex God, no, he was much more. He was beautiful, smart, hilarious, and the strongest guy I’d ever know, and so much more. But if I were in his situation, I’d be crying my eyes out and screaming.

I took hold of his impurity once again, moving my hand to the rhythm of our hips. I’d have to do everything to make this more pleasurable for him. I was all set however. The sensation of him was enough to kill, luckily it didn’t though. It was hard to enjoy, just thinking of what the hell I was ripping in him.

It took a while, but to my relief his facial features had slowly morphed into something along the lines of bliss. His amazing body rolling like a wave with each thrust. I let my head fall back, my eyes sliding shut as I let myself fall into the welcoming arms of the aphrodisiac angel.

Fleshy hot skin, slick with a forming thin sheet of sweat; moans synchronizing to sing the saccharine and lulling song of fornication, a song that was far too familiar, but impossible to memorize.

I glanced up at him after feeling the weight of his hands on my chest. His head was bowed, his body still moving like a slick and perfect wave. He spoke in a barely audible moan.

“I.. I’m close…”

I swallowed hard, nodding a nod he’d never see. I boosted my performance, thrusting in search of his spot. A sharp grunt and then a following moan let me know that I had indeed found the savory area. I sped the movement of my hand up as I continued to hit into him, heavy moans and the tight grips of his hands let me know I was doing something right.

I felt him tighten once again around me as he came. His body lurching forward, being caught by his buckled arms that had moved to either side of my head, hands balling into fists. He made a sharp gasping sound, a short sigh following. I released him from my grasp making a face at my now sticky hand as my hips still plowed into him, I was near. I saw him open his eyes slowly to watch me.

Brown with a heavy coat of sex induced glaze. He gave a tired smile as he proceeded to help me. I always took longer, didn’t know why. I shut my eyes, wincing from the quick spurts of total pleasure he gave. Just a few more rough drives and I was through, filling his sweet self. A final soft moan from the both of us marked the end.

His arms finally gave way, his body falling in what seemed like slow motion onto mine. I trailed my hands softly up his back, listening to his deep-lunged ragged breaths that graced my ear.

“I love…you,” He whispered with another heave of his chest.

I turned my head slightly, placing a kiss behind his ear, “I love you too,” I whispered back.

Nothing could possibly ruin this moment…This moment of feeling at home for the first time in a long time…

“Hey where the hell are you gu…UUUH!” The sound of Joe’s voice filled the small area of the back of the bus, “Oooh shit! I—Am so sorry!”

Nothing…Except that.

***THERE! Happy now?! You got you man sex now leave me alone! Lol jk ^^ Gosh that was sure interesting to write, hope to hell it didn’t suck o.o If it did…I just wasted a good hour and a half of my life lol! Okay well…You know the drill, I ♥ comments lol***

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 6

theunderdogunit — Sun, 21 Aug 2005 05:05:36 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Pat (FOB)
Chapter Rating: PG-15 for now
Warnings: Language
Summary: Patrick’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 6!

Take Me To A Place Called Home

Part 6

Peter’s POV

Bitch 2.0 must have had some stick up her ass, because she was on edge all morning. It was pissing me off too. I was already pissed because Patrick left me cold in the shower, so her bitching at us all the way to our photo shoot wasn’t helping.

“When I say you all will need to be awake at eight sharp, I expect to have you ready and set to go! Now that you two dragged us down we’ll be late!”

I mean she wouldn’t shut up. She just kept on ranting like it would kill her not to. Andy and Joe looked about as interested in her as always, not at all. I was making faces every time she turned to bitch at someone else, and Patrick…Patrick looked a little scary. He had an expression on his face that looked like he had stepped in shit, slipped in a mud puddle, hit his head, bumped his knee, and got dumped all in one day. He basically had that look of ‘I’m going to kill someone’.

I examined him for a little longer before I scooted closer to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders as the bus rocked slowly as it drove the highway.

“Hey, just breathe alright? We’ll be outta here in a few; we’ll take a walk alright?” I whispered, pressing my nose to his temple.

“Excuse me! I don’t want to see this while I’m talking to you! I expect you to be alert and respectful!” She barked at me.

I felt the muscle in his temple clench as he stared at her, “Listen to me Patrick. We’ll get you out of here, have you cool down; I’ll help you get your cool back, okay? Are you hearing my words Patrick?”

I honestly hated it when he was like this. I hated having to try and keep him from tearing something, or in this case, some one apart. He needed some of that medicine…That depression crap there…What the fuck is it called? Hell I don’t know but he needed it.

I put my hand that wasn’t tight around his shoulder, on his stomach and tugged lightly at his shirt, “Is that okay?” I pressed; I’d get my God damn answer one way or another.

“Yes…” He spoke through barely open lips and a tight jaw.

“Good,” I patted his stomach, something about it just made it so…Pattable?

I turned my gaze now to Bitch 2.0.

“I think its time you stop talking.” I said in that calm voice that pissed people off when they were angry.

“Listen here young ma—”

“No,” I put my hand up to shut her up, “No, it’s in your best interest to…Stop. Talking.” I finished it rather harsh, but boo hoo cry me a river…Fucker.

She did stop, for once. She did that usual huff of her enormous chest them the bustle to a different part of the bus. She was usually in a different bus, one that followed us, but for the past three day’s she’s been on ours. Makes me wonder if the roadies finally got enough of her and kicked her off their bus and onto ours.

As soon as she left Patrick’s eyes fell on Joe and Andy, who sat across from us. His face immediately fell at the sight of their slightly shocked faces. I know for a fact they have seen him in this state, but they still acted like it was a new thing…Sorta irked me.

“Sorry…Guys,” Patrick mumbled, his eyes on his feet that were stretched out slightly in from of him.

“Nah, don’t be sorry man, she gets on my nerves too…”

I was surprised at Joe’s fast reaction to that, wasn’t expecting it.

“Yeah, you know what? There are thousands of people out there that could easily replace her.” Andy added.

I felt their eyes on me now. I knew what they were thinking…

I glanced at them, then back to Patrick who still had his head down as if he were being scolded, “How ‘bout it Patrick? I’ll get us a new bookie…Would that ease the stress level a bit?”

I saw him nod ever so slightly that I doubt Andy and Joe even saw.

“Alright, I’ll start calling tomorrow,” I said, pressing a small kiss to his cheek while rubbing his back.

Thank God for large family, now all I needed to do was call Mack. My mother’s mother’s son’s cousin twice removed on father’s side, re-married into mother’s grandmother’s side…Nah I’m just kidding. Mack was real however, my cousin…Seriously. He worked for Island and he was the one that gave us Bitch 2.0 in the first place, not really knowing she was in fact a bitch.

Getting a new manager is one hell of a hassle, that’s why I kept putting it off. But if Patrick was so bothered by her that he in fact wanted to see her dead…Then I think I could possibly work something out.

It wasn’t far to the studio we were shooting at, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. The rest of the ride has been silent except for the few words exchanged between Andy and Joe. I swear they were hiding something from us…

“Let’s go! Get out and go straight to the door! Understood?!”

God. She yelled every damn thing she said.

“Okay! But you know what?! It would be great if you stopped yelling!” I spoke in mock-yell at her.

“Move!” She bellowed pointing to the head of the bus.

We filed out…Slowly, just to piss the beast off. For some reason the sun seemed really bright, and it actually hurt my eyes. Weird…

We were greeted by a big guy in black clothing and black sunglasses, standing in front of the large white door. The damn door reflected a lot of sunlight, pretty much blinding me. I shielded my eyes as we stopped, the guy staring down at us.

“Here,” Bitch 2.0 shoved a large yellow envelope into his hands.

He took out the papers inside; I guess his eyes were scanning them, but hell I couldn’t tell. Heh…That rhymed.

“Your ID,” He spoke bluntly to Bitch 2.0 as she handed him the clip on ID that confirmed she was our manager.

He stepped aside, “See to the front desk, and ask Sandra what room you’re scheduled in.”

We walked only a few feet, down a hallway lined with professional photography and then entered a small waiting area. Which was very white and annoying…

“Excuse me, which room is reserved for the shooting of Fall Out Boy?”

That sounded funny…It was probably the most pleasant Bitch 2.0 had spoken to anyone. It surprised me.

Sandra, the secretary behind the mahogany desk, scanned the thick appointment book that sat in front of her, “You are on floor three, room 329, and Ben is your photographer.”

She replied with a smile, pointing her pen at the elevator doors. My stomach bit me. I stepped forward to the desk and leaned on it.

“Where might I find the stairs?”

“Around the corner there, just past the restrooms,” She replied pleasantly.

“Thank you.”

I glanced over at Patrick as I started to walk, “I’ll meet you up there okay?”

He advanced to follow me, “I’ll go with you…”

I smiled, what a good boy he was.

I saw the visible hate on Andy’s and Joe’s faces. Well if they weren’t so lazy they could have come with us.

We took the stairs at a steady pace, not really communicating. He wasn’t in the best of moods and I was too distracted by the damn lights. I stopped once we got to the second floor landing and rubbed at my eyes.

“Are you alright Pete?”

I felt his hand on my back as I stopped my vigorous rubbing long enough to look at him.

“I don’t know. The lights are getting to me…”

He frowned, not sure what to say. I shook it off, “Let’s go,” I gave him a fake smile.

Now, if I thought the fucking hallway was bright…It was nothing compared to this Ben character’s photo room.

“Ah! Welcome welcome! Come on in don’t be shy!”

Just what I feared, a screecher and a high pitch girl-man voice.

“I’ve just been SO excited all morning long for this! Do come in. Do you have your written copy of the desired prints?” He looked to Bitch 2.0.

She handed him the envelope. Was he a sight or what?

Bleach blond hair standing up in all directions with deep hot pink blotches. A teal tank top hugged his chest and left about an inch of skin showing where his black leather pants started low on his hips. I can’t believe I’d have to stand here and stare at him while he took pictures and trying not to laugh at the same damn time.

“Alright, come, come. This way please,” He said nearly throwing the envelope back at Bitch 2.0 after looking through it.

We followed his bustling self to an area with different types of flashy furniture of pretty much every shape and size, not to mention every ass-ugly color you could think of. I mean, yellow and sea foam green? Please.

“Alright!” He whirled on us, catching all of us off guard, “Now then, you,” He pointed to me, “A, you, B, C and D,” He pointed from me to Patrick to Andy then Joe.

“Remember your letter and come, stand here. Now just stand and I’ll tell you where and how to move. Understood?”

We said our yes’ and made our way over to the grayish drop down photo mat.

I had a hunch it would be a long rest of the day.

---

It was late afternoon when we escaped the clutches of Ben. He not only kept us late to talk about what life on the road was like, no, he had to make it better by having us suffer through 12 enormous photo albums of famous people he had worked with before. Needless to say I wanted to choke myself with my shoelaces.

“I could go for that walk you mentioned earlier,” I felt Patrick’s index finger hook mine as we were headed for the bus.

I smiled at him, “Yeah so could I.”

“Think we could get food first?”

I noticed Joe walking quite a few feet behind Patrick and I, looking at me in hopes I’d say yes. I let my eyes trail back to Patrick.

“Would you mind taking a walk after we ate?”

He shook his head, “Nah, its okay. Can’t starve Mr. Eves over here,” He joked.

Made me wonder though, Joe was a good eves dropper, seemed to know every word that’s said and every thing that’s done between me and Patrick.

“Now, now, be nice B,” I said in a girl-man voice, pressing my nose to his cheek and nuzzled rather firm, getting a funny girly-like giggle from him.

I of course was making an immature mock of Ben, he told Patrick (B) to be nice after he had to take 14 shoots of one picture because Joe kept doing something wrong, and Patrick would obviously make fun…Along with me but I was nice about it.

I hooked my arm around his shoulders, his found a place around my waist as we made our way towards the all too familiar hunk of steel we got carted around in.

***BOOM! There you have it, not the most exciting of chapters…In fact I won’t be a bit surprised if I get hated on for this one because it was so boring lol! I’m terribly sorry…Yeah, well Next chapter…I promise it will be better. Just forgive me for this one lol! Love to all!***

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 5

theunderdogunit — Wed, 17 Aug 2005 05:20:35 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Pat (FOB)
Chapter Rating: PG-15 for now
Warnings: Language
Summary: Patrick’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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!
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 5!

So Come And Take Me Home

Part 5

Patrick’s POV

He had fallen asleep on top of me, after the sharing of a blind make out session his exhaustion got the better of him.

I stared at the shadowed ceiling, finding the feel of Peter’s heat beat soothing along with the smooth and steady breath that was expelled from him onto my neck. My hand still tracing tiny circles on the small of his back.

What he had told me was the truth, and it wouldn’t stop antagonizing me, playing over and over in my head.

“Patrick, I don’t really think that’s an option…And don’t say we could just walk away. If we did that we’d have our contract terminated with Island.”

God forbid that all we’ve worked for since we were teenagers be destroyed because of my selfishness. But truth be told, each day that passed with this feeling that made me want to curl up into a ball and fade away…was making the fade away part more and more inviting…

I couldn’t possibly explain what the hell it is, because I don’t even know. All I do know is that I get thoughts of harm…And they make me want to take it out on myself. I haven’t yet, but its close, I won’t deny that fact.

A small sound from the body on top of me made me come back down to earth. I moved my free hand that wasn’t nestled on his back, to his head. Something about playing with Peter’s hair (not that there was much to play with), calmed me down some.

I needed sleep, that would help. Not that there was much time before we had to wake up…But still, I had to force it. I shut my eyes, trying to lull myself to sleep by focusing on Peter’s breathing and his sweet yet insipid smell. I took a deep breath of him in, letting it out slowly as I felt that sleep was approaching. Whatever morning held…I’d try to be ready for it.

---

“Get up this instant!”

That sounded a lot like Bitch 2.0.

“GET UP!”

Whoa, definitely Bitch 2.0.

I opened my eyes, greeted by Peter’s still half sleeping face. I smiled; I loved watching him wake up. One eye open, the other half closed, a pretty much stoned look on his face, and the ever so attractive drool in the corner of his mouth.

“Both of you get up NOW!” Peter and I both glared over at her, “We’re waiting on you! Why didn’t you wake them up?!” She barked at Andy and Joe, who stood behind her, fully clothed and clean.

Peter sat up slowly, leaning back on my hips. He stretched his arms out and puffed up his chest.

“Would you shut the fuck up lady?” He groaned, not turning to face her.

“Watch what you say young man! I could cancel all booking you brats have from now until Christmas!”

Peter’s face went from ‘stretching feels good’ to ‘did she just say that?’. He turned his upper body slowly, a pretty frightening glimmer of something in his eyes.

“I dare you,” He whispered, challenging her to a stare down.

She of course backed off, Peter had connections far beyond hers that could get us another manager with in a week. Why he hadn’t already I would always wonder about.

“Just get up and clean yourselves. God only knows what you two were doing.” She growled, hands on her hips.

“What? The thought of me and Patrick fucking doesn’t excite you?”

I heard the smile in his voice as Bitch 2.0 huffed and turned on her heel to exit the room. Did she actually think we’d have sex with Andy and Joe in the room?

It was quiet for a minute; all eyes were on the door, as if expecting her to barge in again.

“Well, it excites me.”

Our eyes shot to Joe. He blinked and laughed, “Joking guys.”

He shook his head, turning for the door, “I’m gonna go see what they have for breakfast.”

“Wait up, I’ll go too,” Andy announced, following him.

We watched them leave, Peter turning back to me the moment the door clicked shut.

“Ever wonder what the hell they’d be like as a couple?”

I stared at his bright eyes, “Not really…I think it would be a little scary.”

He laughed, kissing my forehead before removing himself from onto of me. It was depressing, the feel of his weight leaving me.

“We should get showers,” He said, stretching once again.

I sat up, moving my legs to hang over the bed, “Or we could conserve water and take one shower.”

He whirled around, pointing at me suddenly, a wide grin on his face, “What a brilliant idea.”

He was on me the moment I stood like a shark to the smell of blood. His lips forcefully took mine as his hands gripped my shoulders.

“Let’s get…clean,” He purred against my lips, hips pressing into mine.

I smiled, “If you say so Panda.”

---

The shower head made that incredibly annoying screech of when it first turns on, only it didn’t go away.

“Smack it,” Peter suggested from behind me.

“That’s…Not going to help,” I said, reaching to twist the head back and forth to see if that would help.

“Works for the TV in my bunk…” He mumbled.

I turned back to him, “We’ll make it quick,” I realized just how dirty that sounded the moment the toothy grin graced Peter’s face.

“A quick shower…” I added.

“Your no fun,” He laughed, dropping his boxers, the only clothing that had remained on him.

“I can’t help it,” I started, also disburdening myself of the restriction of my clothes, “I’m the girl.”

He laughed. It was an ongoing joke between us and close friends. They would tease about who was the girl in our relationship, and of course I was pegged with that honor.

“Yes, but you’re my girl,” He mumbled seductively, brushing our bodies purposely as he pulled the shower curtain back, stepping into the steam.

I rolled my eyes, snatching my shampoo from the counter.

---

Washing had been the least of his worries, as always. He preferred sharing wet kisses, pressed bodies and the sound he got when he ‘worked his magic’ as he called it. I, however, found blow job just as easy to say. He called me vulgar because I used the normal terms. Like, he called sex ‘the deed’ and a jacking off ‘playing with food’…But it just made him just the more sweet and irresistible.

I leaned against the back wall of the shower, glancing down at him. He was beautiful, and the water running over him and steam clouding around him didn’t help the fact. I felt something move in the back of my throat, tilting my head back and opening my mouth to let it out. All I got however was a low moan cut short when I clamped my jaw shut.

My breathing became shallow as his hands held me firmly to the wall. Trying to speak was never more difficult when in this predicament.

“Pete…” I winced at the sensation that flowed through my spine to my fingers to my toes and everywhere in between.

Suddenly everything was gone. Absolutely no feeling. Nothing. As if I had fallen into oblivion, or a black abyss.

Peter suddenly filled my line of vision, smiling. The nerve he had was incredible.

“I…Hate…You,” I growled.

I watched him smile as he pinned me to the wall, “No you don’t”

“Yes…I do. You do this every time, why I thought you’d actually finish is beyond—”

“Shh…” He said, silencing me with a stroke of his hips to mine, “You know I like to save you for the sheets…” He serrated against my ear.

I let out the frustrated noise I had been holding, pushing him back and taking his face in my hands.

“You are such…A bitch.” And with that I took his slightly shocked mouth and forced mine upon it.

I was too used to him getting me so close to the edge and then just stopping everything. Pissed me off to no end, but I’ve learned to live with it…I would get finished all in good time. That I knew for a fact.

“We’ve been in here to long,” He breathed before I closed the space once again.

“We’re gonna,” kiss, “Get shot,” kiss, “You’re not even,” kiss, “Listening,” I pulled back and stared at him.

“Your right.” I pulled back the curtain and stepped out, leaving him there.

“What?! You’re just gonna stop there?!” He whined rather loudly.

“How does it feel? Now stop kvetching and get out, you are the one that said we’d be shot.” I was quite smug with my tone, wrapping a towel around me and exiting the bathroom.

“And you call me a bitch?!”

Was all that I heard from the bathroom as I happily made my way to where my clothes sat in my bag across the room.

***Nahaaa! I’m such an ebil person ^^ And gosh do I love every minute of it =) So yes there you have it, part five. Perhaps I’ll have enough ambition to do 6 tomorrow lol. Until then my friends do enjoy this chapter and the little present I drew last night ^^ Spur of the moment it was lol! Oh yeah...And before I forget..I abologize to cherry_bomb23 for not having any heated man sex in this chapter lol! Sorry love!!! It'll come(no pun intended) I promise!!***

TAHDAH!! Peter-Yoshi! Hope you enjoyed this Episode of Take Me To A Place Called Home ^^ Bye for now!

Lil Pic

theunderdogunit — Mon, 15 Aug 2005 07:51:45 GMT

Soooo I was a little board and I know you guys will probably hate me for doing this instead of updating...But I'm too nervous about my new job to write at the moment lol! So I drew us a lil picture instead. To tell the truth I thought my drawing abilities were shot to hell but I think this came out pretty cute lol!

♥.Brandie.♥

Do excuse my large head lol, it's Peter Panda and Patrick! All chibi fat and cute like hehe!

So here's the one without my face...Came out dark for some reason, but still cute lol

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 4

theunderdogunit — Sun, 14 Aug 2005 20:31:18 GMT

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 3

theunderdogunit — Sun, 14 Aug 2005 06:52:07 GMT

Take Me To A Place Called Home: Part 2

theunderdogunit — Sat, 13 Aug 2005 06:57:24 GMT

Title: Take Me To A Place Called Home
Pairing: Peter/Pat (FOB)
Chapter Rating: PG-15 for now
Warnings: Language
Summary: Patrick’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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
Notes:Thanks for the reviews guys! So here you are, P. 2!

So Come And Take Me Home

Part 2

Peter’s POV

I was the first off the bus, like usual. I stepped out into the cool evening air of Boston, taking in a lung full. Once I did make my appearance though, a hoard of cheers and cries came directly from my right. Obviously catching my attention I turned to look at them. A rather small group of girls jumping up and down, some waving t-shirts, others with papers.

I smiled and waved, I knew the current bitch we had as our booking manager wouldn’t let us near them, nor let them pass by the blockade she had set up due to our arrival. But it really was ridiculous, there were only about twenty of them, not even. They had probably been waiting forever. I glanced at my watch; it was 11:23 pm. What a let down for them.

I waited off to the side for Patrick, who had the habit of being last. Andy and Joe did the same as I did when they stepped out of the bus, a deep breath and a wave to the bouncy girls at our right. Patrick was slow coming down the bus’ stairs, I moved closer and wound my arms around his shoulders once his feet hit the tar.

“You feelin’ alright?” I asked softly, examining his expressionless face.

“Yeah I’m fine,” He mumbled back to me, giving a small wave to the girls, its second nature I tell you.

“Could you be any slower?!” The small busty women known only as Bitch 2.0 was walking briskly towards us and staring in a deadly manner at Patrick.

“You know how much I can’t stand when you take your sweet time when you’re not supposed to!” She snapped.

“Go home girls! The boys are tired and they won’t be signing anything!” She shouted at them, waving her arms, only making herself look like a total jackass.

“Excuse me, but I’ll take all the sweet time I want.” I was surprised at Patrick’s calm yet final tone as he broke away from my loose hold of his shoulders, dropping his bag next to me and made his way towards the now overly excited hyper active girls.

Bitch 2.0 shot me a look of surprise and anger all mixed in one, and wow did she look fucked up. I laughed at her of course, dropping my own bag on top of Patrick’s and following him over to the girls. It also didn’t take Andy and Joe long to follow.

I stood next to Patrick and took one of the girl’s mini poster and sharpie she had brought. I liked smart people.

“You’re such a rebellious little fucker,” I half murmured and half laughed to Patrick.

“Yeah, well, I try.” He smiled handing a girl back her t-shirt.

I turned my attention back to the girl that was making goo-goo eyes at me. I smiled, “What’s your name?”

“Oh my gosh! It’s Katie!” She squealed.

“Okay, Oh my gosh it’s Katie, I hope you have a wonderful evening, and it was nice to meet you.” Damn could I pull off some serious charm, she looked like she would faint right on the spot.

Time passed quickly unfortunately, I loved to sign stuff and talk with all the people (in this case the girls) its just so amazing how you go from being a loser with pimples in high school to a rock star that needs body guards. It was all just a rush to the head.

---

We stood at the service desk, awaiting our keys to be given out. But alas there was a problem in the room situation and the seemed to only have a two bedder and a queen left. Obviously Bitch 2.0 was all for this idea, cramming all four of us in one room while she sprawled her chubby self on the queen sized bed.

“I’m terribly sorry about the inconvenience…” The young man at the counter said timidly as he handed Bitch 2.0 the keys.

“Oh its no problem, we’ll be just fine.”

More like you’ll be just fine. With Joe and Andy in the room with me and Patrick I doubt I’d be able to get through to him or see what was bothering him lately. I knew all too well when he fell into these moods that it was something about home. Most of the time it was that he wanted to go home, wanted to relax in his own space, he’d always say, “With you of course,” which always got a smile from me.

She shoved the key into Andy’s hands (too bad for him that he was the closest to her).

“I want all of you in bed as soon as you get up there, showers can be done in the morning.” She ordered harshly.

I watched with a smile as Andy rolled his eyes, “Yes mother...” She frowned walking off, “…fucker,” He finished as soon as she was out of hearing range, which wasn’t far.

Joe and I laughed at him for a moment before she whirled and pointed at us, “Elevator! Now!”

The rooms were too starchy, too clean. And the bed sheets redefined the launder term ‘crisp’. Patrick sat on the edge of the bed closest to the window, removing his shoes. I went to sit next to him, our backs to Joe and Andy.

“Bad time to ask if something’s wrong?” I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Nothing’s wrong Pete,” He said, fumbling with his belt buckle, a sure sign that he didn’t want to talk. But he had to, so I pressed on.

“Patrick, don’t lie to me,” I said evenly, putting my hand over the buckle so as to stop him from being distracted from the issue.

“Any of you need to use the bathroom?”

Our attention focused on Andy, who stood in the doorway of the bathroom, “Cause I’m gonna take a shower,” He gave a crooked smile.

Joe shook his head, falling onto the bed he and Andy would be sharing. Patrick shook his head as well.

“Well, looks like its all yours motha trucka,” We laughed before he disappeared into the whiteness of the bathroom and I turned my attention back to Patrick.

I could tell by looking at him that he wasn’t about to talk, not with Joe right next to us. So instead I dropped it, moving my hand and helping him with the buckle. He sighed and leaned against me as I tugged the belt through the loops of his jeans. I felt his lips to my cheek and wanted nothing more than to ride him right here right now but…Poor Joe had no where to run, I’d have to keep the boy love to PG with them around.

Patrick sensed my hostility to return any of his gesture, so instead he stood to shed his pants. And wow would I have loved to shed every piece of clothing he wore and just devour it. I too stood and started to undo the button and zipper on my pants, trying to slip out of them without taking the underwear with them.

My gaze slowly went to Joe to see if he was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

…

Okay, not that it would matter. He was facing the wall, shoulders rising and descending in the undeniable snoozin’ breathing.

I let my pants fall to my ankles before stepping out of them, fixing the way my baby blue boxers fit. Patrick sat down again on the bed, now in his boxers and green sith tee. I, on the other hand, hated sleeping in clothes, and he probably knew as well as I did that if Joe and Andy weren’t present…I’d be sleeping in nothing. So instead I only rid my shirt and pants.

Now that Joe was sleeping, I wasn’t afraid to take Patrick’s face hostage. I removed his glasses, placing them on the table that sat between the beds. My hands finding their way to the sides of his face and my lips finding their way to his. A sigh expelled from his nose as I made it obvious that my tongue wanted in, now.

He was sweet, always was. I felt his hands rest on my hips as I broke away for air.

He smiled up at me, “Gimme a backrub?”

I couldn’t help but smile, he was so God damned cute.

I nodded, “Lay down, I’ll give you a little one.”

He did as told, quickly turning over to lie on his stomach as I snuggled down next to him on my side. I pulled the sheet over our bodies before I set my head on the pillow next to Patrick’s, my hand trailing underneath the sheet and soon enough underneath the green tee he wore.

He loved the simplest little backrub to the ‘I’ma grind your back with a sledge hammer till the knots are out’ types of backrubs.

I thought of turning the light off, but remembered Andy would probably need it.

“You okay to sleep with the light on?” I asked in his ear.

“Mmm…” Was all I got back.

I smiled, kissing his ear before setting my head back on the pillow and keeping my small rubbing rhythm on his back going.

***Voila! Part 2 to the FOB fic people told me to keep going on ^^ Much love goes out to you special few =) I’ve also decided to keep the parts in this fic short so I can focus on my bigger David/Pierre fic and work…I hate work….But oh well lol what can ya do? Nothing that’s right. Whelp yeah lol. Please comment…The comments make me happy ^^***

Lost P. 3

theunderdogunit — Fri, 12 Aug 2005 22:51:04 GMT

Title: Lost
Pairing: David/Pierre
Chapter Rating:PG/PG-13 (R if I ever get my smut mind installed again…)
Warnings: For now pretty much nothing but language.
Summary: What’s one to do when he’s lost everything? Lean on the best friend of course! So lets follow a man that’s lost everything and see how he recovers using what raw materials he’s given.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them unfortunately…If I did…Well you don’t wanna know
Previous Chapter: Can be found on my 'website'/other journal (theunderdogunit)
DedicationsPretty much to anyone and everyone, there are a select few out there that know who they are. Thank you my loyal followers and I’m back!! …Kinda sorta maybe lol
Notes:Enjoy

Lost

Part 3

I wasn’t exactly expecting to wake up to what I did, when I actually did wake up.

I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling, waiting for them to adjust to the morning sun and the blurriness that blessed everyone’s eyes when waking up in the morning… Or in my case, the afternoon.

After attempting to take in a deep breath, I felt a little extra weight on my chest. I frowned, sitting up slightly to glare at the intrusion. What I came face to face to was the gray fluff ball and its scary ass eyes.

“What the hell are you looking at?” I growled in that oh-so-lovely rasped morning voice.

I saw the thing’s paw lift a little as I stared at it menacingly. But before I knew had time to know it, he had reached out and smacked me square on the nose, hard.

“Oh! You little bastard!” I nearly yelled, grabbing my nose and sitting up fast as the little bitch jumped off me and ran out of the room at full speed.

“Yeah you better run! You little shit!” That time…I did yell.

The next thing I knew, David had appeared in my doorway, looking fairly alarmed.

“What’s the matter? Are you alright?” He asked, migrating quickly to my bedside.

I checked my nose for blood before I looked up to answer him.

“You’re little pet just nailed me in the nose…” I pretty much whined.

“Well here, let me see it,” He said leaning close.

He put one hand to my forehead and used his other to gently tilt my chin back to look up my nose. It was quite awkward… David close to me and examining my nose, as I stared stupidly at his eyes.

“Well Pie, its not even bleeding, so I have full faith that you’ll make it through the day.”

I mean, for some reason they looked really green all of a sudden. Maybe they have always been that way and I just never noticed? Well whatever it was…they sure as hell caught my attention.

I felt a few soft pats on my cheek as I tried hard to focus on his voice now.

Pie, I’m worried about you. You seem so out of it…” He spoke barely above a whisper, his hand falling still on my cheek.

“You don’t need to be,” I tried to assure.

“Yeah…But I am. I think you need to clear your head,” He paused, his hand freeing away from my cheek as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. Something in me stirred then, perhaps the disappointment of yet another warm touch falling from my grasp.

“How about you take my car for the day and drive around some. Find something to do to clear the crap that’s clogging your brain,” He looked like he was thinking for a second before he spoke again, “All you’d need to do is drive me to and from work.” He smiled at his great idea.

I wish I could have returned it, but I was too damn distracted by him. And it was a little frustrating.

“Nah, its okay David. Knowing my luck I’d probably end up in a ditch in the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s not true Pierre. You need to stop thinking so morbid.” He stood up, turning back to me.

“Come on, out of bed and I’ll make you some breakfa—” He cut himself off, his face twisted into a feature I’m really not sure I could explain… “Well, some lunch that is.” He smiled brightly, walking briskly from the room.

I watched his body rush out, my eyes finding his butt quite a sight in the white boxers he sported. I blinked at the empty space that used to be David.

…There’s something wrong with me.

I groaned, picking myself sluggishly off of the bed, stumbling out of the room on morning legs.

I found him bent over in his large refrigerator, a glance towards me before he stood and spoke.

“What do you feel like? I’ve got, um…Well a little bit of everything,” He laughed shortly before I watched his eyes grow wide with a gasp escape him.

“What?” I asked, slightly shocked at this.

“I made muffins!” His face lit up with pure joy.

I sighed and laughed as he bounced over to the stove, retrieving a plate from the top of the stove and held it for me to see.

“Oooh, muffins for Pie…Chocolate chip muffins for Pie,” He teased with a goofy smile.

He earned a semi girly laugh from me as he waved the plate about, “Alright, I guess I’ll just have to have one.” Not like anything could possibly keep me from them anyway.

I moved closer to swipe one from the plate, a grin forming on his face, “Knew you couldn’t resist,” He had sort of sexy tone in there some where, as he turned to put the plate back on the stove.

“Oh!” He whirled around, catching me off guard once again, “You still like grapes right?”

How the hell would he remember something like that?

“Yeah,” I replied through a mouth full of muffin.

“Good, because I bought about a hundred pounds of them the other day, Boon eats them too that’s why.” He went on to show me where they were located…He wasn’t kidding, there where three strainers full of them, “Do help yourself,” He laughed.

It was funny to me on some level that he’d remembered how much I liked grapes. It had to have been at least two or three years ago that I had had the weirdest grape fetish…It’s also a long story that I’m not about to share.

“Now then,” I watched him clap his hands together and keep them still as if he were praying, “I need’a get ready for work.”

And that was that. I stood and watched him until he disappeared into his room.

It actually occurred to me that I watch him a lot… It was sorta weird I guess. It was like I was some freakish stalker (which I’m sure he has enough of), and I have a hunch he notices how much I stare too. I never really considered myself with another guy before, which was of course until I was old enough to appreciate David. I’d never told any one this, and I most likely never will. But if David had been gay, I’d of stepped up to the plate long ago and told him just how much he actually meant to me, how he was on the list of only a few that kept me alive these days.

But alas, David’s been with quite a few girls and has never once dropped hints of liking or being with another guy. There were the exceptions of the friend to friend jokes though, but those meant nothing.

I sighed, swallowing the last of my muffin.

I wandered over to the bathroom and entered to rid the dryer of my clothing. To my surprise they were set neatly folded in small piles of pants, shirts, and underwear on top of the counter. Okay so it wasn’t exactly a huge surprise…It was like David to do something like that.

I smiled, taking them up in my arms and brought them to my temporary room. I looked to the mirror slowly.

I scoffed lightly, making a face at the man, “Watching me again eh? Well, I’m about to prove you and the rest of the world that you’re wrong about me…”

That was right, today while David was at work. I’d plan to use his car for good. I was going to go job hunting, and at this point I really didn’t have the option to be a job-snob. Whatever took me so late in the season would be good enough.

“Hey Pierre! You ready?” I heard David’s voice call from the other room.

“Yeah! I’m coming,” I called in return.

I shed the shirt I had worn to bed and took the first shirt my hand grabbed from the pile. I pulled the light blue tee over my head; still a faint warmth lingered from the heat of the dryer. Pants followed, I didn’t bother changing the boxers…I’m a guy after all.

I turned to the mirror for one last look at the old me, giving my best silent goodbye.

Leaving the room, I found David rather quickly. He stood by the door, working on getting his work sneakers on. He wore the required uniform of black pants and the red Tate’s tee… But he wore them well.

He gave me a wide smile, “Ready?”

I nodded as I moved to get my shoes on as well, still quite damp from last night, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

“Ready,” I smiled back.

He tossed me the keys to his precious SUV, never though the day would come. As we jogged down the stairs to the building’s front door, he spoke a million miles a minute. Asking if I remembered the way to Tate’s, if I’d need anything, if I could feed Boon. Luckily they were questions I was able to answer a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to.

As I pulled out of the lot and onto the road I watched David take his lip ring out, putting it in a little jewelry case. He then proceeded to replace the empty spot with a small stud. He glanced at me, smiling.

“Gotta do it for work, they’re weird about that stuff.”

I nodded, it made scene.

“Hey, I was thinking I’d go and job hunt today, put my mind to something productive,” I said, waiting for his reply.

“Really? That’s great Pie; I wish you luck on it.”

“Yeah I’ll probably need it, it’s pretty late in the season to get a good job.”

---

The main road to Tate’s was packed with heavy traffic. I could see David’s eyes go from the clock to his window every five seconds as his fingers tapped impatiently on the center rest.

“Must be an accident…” I heard him murmur.

“What time do you need to be there?” I asked calmly, as to not set him off into a panic mode. If there was one person who’d rather die than be late for something…It was David.

“Two thirty,” He said a bit strained as his eyes found the clock once again.

This time mine followed his. It was two twenty. It took a good fifteen minutes to drive to Tate’s from David’s place without traffic, but I’d add probably another twenty on top because of this pile up. And the worst was that we weren’t moving any time soon.

I took my bottom lip into my mouth and bit at it lightly. I leaned over close to David to get the view I needed.

“Pierre?”

It was perfect; I could see the road from here. I returned to normal in my seat and glanced out the rear view mirror, my grip tightening on the wheel.

“Pierre…”

I turned my head to meet David’s eyes, “Hold on,” I said slowly, a grin playing on my lips.

I cut the wheel and peeled out into the breakdown lane. I laid on the gas, speeding my way past the waiting cars.

“Pierre!”

I pretty much ignored David’s tiny screech and the hand that now made a fist in the skin on my side and the material of my shirt.

At the small side street that not many knew where it led, I cut the wheel once again, causing the car to take a violent right turn. I was also granted another horrified sound from David.

I felt like a driver in one of those car commercials as I took the windy, woodsy, hilly roads with ease. Pretty much every idiots dream, and I was one of those idiots. It was a plus that David’s car had such good handling…The lucky bastard. But it was probably the best work out this car has had since he’s had it.

“I really wish you’d slow down! Where are you going anyway!?”

“Relax and enjoy the ride Davey, I’m taking you o work! And on time!” I laughed as we descended a hill, our stomachs flying.

I could see the main street now, and Tate’s lay just across the intersection.

“Pierre! The light’s red! Stop!” David hollered, alarm full in his voice.

Now if I were smart…I’d of stopped… But why live life in the safe zone? So, there I went, flying down the hill, driving 75 miles per hour through the light. David’s grip on me had become painful and even more so when an angry beep and screeching tires sounded.

I served into the parking lot, reducing speed greatly. Finally, I rolled the car to a soft and gentle stop at the back door.

I smiled, “Look, 2:29.”

I glanced over at him, he looked rather comical. Eyes bugged, jaw clenched…And a fist full of my shirt and skin, that wasn’t so comical though…

His head started to slowly turn, creepy like even, something that you’d see in ahorror movie. He stared at me.

“Are. You. INSANE!?” His voice going high at ‘sane’ indicated he didn’t find my little stunt funny.

“Well I—”

“No!” He cut me off, “Don’t…Answer that.”

He suddenly yanked my shirt (and skin) hard, causing me to reel.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” I twisted as he leaned close to me.

“Don’t. Ever…Ever…Do that again.”

I nodded, too far gone in pain to be able to form words. He was totally unaware he had flesh in that fist of shirt. I patted his hand lightly, giving a silent plea for him to let go. It so God damn bad!

He finally did let go and turned immediately to open his door and got out. I, on the other hand, immediately clutched at my side, rubbing furiously. He leaned back in before he shut the door.

“Don’t make me regret letting you use my car Pie…Oh, and good luck on the job front.” He smiled.

“Okay…Have a good day…” It was definitely strained, this shit hurt almost as bad as getting kicked in the nuts…almost.

He shut the door, entering the building not far away. I held my left hand over my booboo and gripped the steering wheel, pressing slowly on the gas to leave the parking lot.

---

I couldn’t have had worst luck finding a job. People were just over employed. I had even gone to the local grocers to apply for genitor! And what’s worse is that its about time to go pick David up and I’m scared as hell that he’s going to be angry with me still.

I had none the less fucked that up pretty bad. The only person that still paid mind to me, and I had gone and just screwed it up.

He had been right earlier that day, it was an accident that resulted in two people in the hospital. The cause? Speeding…But I’d obviously leave that part out.

I glanced at the clock as I turned into Tate’s parking lot for the second time that day. 9:06.

I was six minutes late, and most likely he was waiting for me. And as luck would have it he was. I stopped beside him, watching him come closer to the door. I held my breath as the door open and he climbed in, a paper bag of something in his hands.

“Were you waiting long? It took me a while to actually find the food that Boon ate…Sorry…” It was true…I had to look everywhere to find that rat’s food.

To my relief he smiled at me, “Nah its okay. Sorry I didn’t specify where that was,” He laughed holding the bag up for me to see.

“I was able to take a few lobsters home. They were older ones that we weren’t selling anymore. You like lobster right?”

I smiled back, happy that he wasn’t mad (or at least showing he was) and for the fact I loved lobster meat, “Yep I sure do.”

“Good,” He beamed, “How bout lobster rolls for dinner?”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, glancing around before pulling onto the street.

---

The apartment had become increasingly warm from the steam of the large pot on the stove that contained three lobsters. David was running around the kitchen like a raped ape doing God knows what and insisted I sit back and relax.

“David, you worked today. Let me help with something.” I pressed.

He shook his head as he took a pair of tongs that hung above the stove, dipping them into the pot and coming out with one of the large lobsters, “Its okay Pie, seriously. But I will probably need you to help me crack these and put the meat in there,” He pointed to the stainless steel bowl on the island counter atop the long wooden cutting board.

“Sure, no problem.” I said sitting on one of the stools that were arranged around the counter.

I watched him take his first break of the entire time he’s been home, putting the lobsters that sat in a pan down in front of me, then he took his seat next to me, letting out a huff.

I shook my head, watching him wipe his forehead with the back of his hand, “I don’t know how you do it.”

He looked over to me with his enrapturing green eyes, “What do you mean?”

I smiled, “You serve a day’s work then you come home and slave away like your still at work, and won’t even take offered help.”

He laughed, “Well I guess I’ve gotten used to working in a kitchen on my own and learning to do more than five things at once. The help is appreciated though.” He smiled back at me.

He looked so young at the moment for some weird reason. He had always looked a little younger than he actually was; he just had those types of features. The high school look of bleached hair probably didn’t help the fact either. He looked like he was eighteen, not twenty three.

“Earth to Pierre…”

I blinked, watching his hand wave about my face. I laughed it off, casually smiling, “Sorry, guess I just spaced for a sec.”

He smiled, reaching in front of me and placing his hand on the body of one of the lobsters, “Well I guess they’ve cooled enough. They’re soft shell so it’s gonna be easy to crack the claws and stuff. So just get as much as you can out of them, tear the meat into little chunks and that’ll be that.” He smiled, picking up the lobster his hand rested on, placing it in front of himself.

I nodded, “Alrighty then.”

We had mindless conversation about his day, my day and how I couldn’t find a job just yet and that I’d probably go back out tomorrow, maybe look for a cheap car too.

I broke the tail open to one of the shelled fish, finding the little poop strip. I laughed, pulling at it carefully so it’d come out in one long piece.

“Hey David, what’s your favorite part of the lobster?” I laughed.

He looked up at me from his own picking apart task. I wiggled it in front of his face, finding it quite amusing.

“Ew! That’s gross get it away!” He laughed making a face and scooting away.

My laugh kept as I tossed the strip into the pan, watching him reclaim his seat once he saw it was gone from my fingers.

“Your gross,” He chuckled.

“Well have you ever tried it? It’s quite yummy.” I teased.

“Uuuh stop, that’s just nasty.” He laughed, nudging my side with his elbow.

“Ah,” I winced, standing quickly as pain shot through my body.

“Pierre, are you alright?” He stood quickly, whipping his hands on the cloth that was on the counter before moving to stand next to me, his hand on my shoulder.

My eyes had squinted shut automatically and my hand went to grab at the spot where a bruise had formed, only making it worse.

“Pierre, tell me what’s wrong…” He was close to me now.

I took in a slow deep breath, forcing my eyes open. I felt the moisture in them, God was I a sissy or what?

“No, I’m okay…” I said in a grunt, prying my hand from my side.

David stared at where my hand had been. He reached down and took the edge of my shirt, lifting it up slowly. I stared. That’s all I did, I stared at him, watching his features contort once he found it.

“Oh my God Pierre…” He breathed.

Yeah…They thing was that gross. It was the size of a fist (go figure) and it was a deep shade of purple, with a lighter bluish yellow on the outskirts of it. He had gotten me good.

He looked up at me, terrified, “I did that?”

“David its fine. I deserved it, I scared the shit out of you earlier.”

“Yeah but you didn’t—you just…Ah…” I could sense the panic.

“David…Calm down alright…I’m fine, it’ll only hurt a day or so. I’m fine, I’ll live.” I placed my hands on his shoulders.

His face remained worried as he stared at it. I felt his fingers gliding over its tender, it didn’t hurt thank God. I didn’t know what to do to calm him down.

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered, his eyes finding mind.

I said nothing in return, I was lost now. I was lost of words, lost of thought…And completely lost in his eyes. I saw his lips part as if to speak, but nothing came out. I leaned down slightly, pulling back a little, hating whatever made me do that.

“David I thin—” I was cut off by the sharp ring of the phone.

David’s eyes tore from mine as he looked over to the phone that hung on the wall. I let my hands fall from his shoulders. I looked away, but saw him glance at me from the corner of my eye before he moved to answer his phone.

This was just fucking great. Now the rest of the night would be that quiet and awkward kind…Yay, just one more thing to add to my list of fuck ups.

***Yay! 11 pages of goodness lol! That took quite awhile I hope you guys liked it. Whoaaa yeah that'll probably the big update on this one for now ^^ More soon though I promise you that. But at the moment I need to update on my FOB fic ^^ Well you know how much I lovey the comments!! SO LEAVE SOME! Lol much love to all!***

Untitled until I know if its liked or hated

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 07:20:10 GMT

Title: Pending (Not sure if this fic is gonna be going anywhere lol)
Pairing: Peter/Pat (FOB)
Chapter Rating: Right now its pretty solid PG
Warnings: Um…None at the moment lol
Summary: Pat’s having these often thoughts of his life meaning nothing but entertainment for other people.
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: None
DedicationsTo anyone that takes the time to read! Lol
Notes:Its up to all of you if this fic has a chance of having a part 2 and so on ^^

I can honestly say I hate this bus and everything about it. I hate the dim lights, I hate the stale air, and I even hated the annoying maroon color of the interior. It was enough to drive you insane, and I’m pretty sure that’s what it was doing to me. It felt like forever since I had actually had a breath of fresh air. But whatever, I’ve survived longer trips, this one was no different. Soon enough we’d arrive at a hotel, get ridiculous service that we really didn’t need, and attempt to get a night’s sleep.

Until then though I’d lay here like always in my little maroon bunk, staring at the wall. I let my eyes slide shut, the buss’ motion rocking me slightly as I listened to the muffled voices of my band mates behind the curtain of my bunk. I didn’t know why but I had become quite irritable in the past week or so. Probably just the affects of being on the road constantly, I would give anything to have just a weekend of being able to relax at home.

My attention slowly wandered to the nearing voice outside of my bunk, I didn’t bother to move to get a better listen, just opened my eyes.

“Yeah, I’m just going to tell him we’re pretty much there.”

Not even a half second later the curtain shielding me from the rest of the buss was pulled back slowly as I heard his voice fill my space.

“Hey Pat, you awake?”

Since I was back to him he wasn’t able to see my open eyes. I didn’t make any sound to tell him I was indeed awake; just lay there in silence, savoring the feel of his eyes on me. If I lay here long enough in silence he’d do what he normally does to get me to ‘wake up’.

My waiting prevailed. I felt the thin mattress shift and heard the curtain being pulled back into its position of closed. Not long after did I feel his arm slide over and hook around my chest, the rest of him moving close to spoon me. The hand that wasn’t busy stroking my collarbone pressed lightly to my forehead and dragged on to remove strands of my hair from my face.

“Why do you always do that to me?” He asked softly, the smile obvious in his voice.

I moved my eyes to look up at his figure that was marginally hunched over me, “Do what?” I love playing dumb with him.

“You know what,” He said with a smirk, his face lowering to my neck.

“Mmm…Nope, I don’t think I do,” I mumbled, granting him access to the flesh of my neck.

A small huff of air teased my neck before I felt his teeth nipping at me lightly; the cool warmth of his tongue dragging agonizingly slow over my skin made the muscles in my back tense and sent a shock through my body which resembled a slight shiver. His mouth shifter to the corner of my jawbone, placing a soft kiss there before he leaned back, looking down at me.

“So anyway, I came to relay that we’re pretty much at our stopping point,” He chirped.

I rolled my eyes, what a typical thing for him to do, “Thank you Peter,” I said in a happy sarcastic voice.

He squeezed my hip lightly, smiling fondly. He reached in back of him to the edge of the bunk, retrieving my specs.

He handed them to me, “Cheer up emo kid…And get up while you’re at it,” he laughed lightly at his own little play on words as he tugged on me, “Might wanna gather whatever crap you feel like taking with you for the night,” He finished, rolling over and sliding the curtain open and slipping out of my bunk.

It wasn’t really secret that Pete and myself were more than friendly with each other. Our people didn’t care, as long as we were making them money. Joe and Andy could care less too; they’d leave if anything was happening between us anyway. Even at the smallest gesture towards one another and they’d be gone. I was positive they weren’t homophobic, just respectful of the relationship. Not like I’d stick around to intrude on them and their girlfriends.

I shuffled from the maroon confines of my bunk and into the maroon hall way of the bus…You could probably see why maroon was my least favorite color. I lifted my arms in the air to stretch and allowed myself to let out a well deserved yawn. Peter shuffled by me quickly, patting my stomach as he passed and smiling.

“Get your stuff together; they want us in there as quickly as possible.” He said as his upper body disappeared into his bunk.

I cocked one of my eyebrows. What else was new? My entire life ever since the band got big has been traveling in the fast lane.

I went about gathering clothes that I’d wear tomorrow, my special shampoo that only I used, and a few other small things that were essentials.

We’d leave the bus momentarily, get rushed into the hotel, and then get rushed to our rooms. It all made me want to just move as slow as possible.

But I could ethically say I was looking forward to the real bed and some real sleep.

***Yesh, I made it short on purpose. I didn’t want to get carried away with something that might suck ass lol. So lets see, I guess your reviews (or lack there of) will decide if this fic goes to the graveyard or onto part 2 =)***

One Shot-ness

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 01:08:42 GMT

Title: Promise Me
Pairing: Jeph/Quinn
Chapter Rating: PG-13 to R
Warnings: Language and shtuff lol
Summary: Just a one shot I typed in about an hour and a half. Quinn is a sex addict and Jeph dosn't like it...So he makes him promise =)
Disclaimer: Don't own, not real, blady blah
Previous Chapter: None
DedicationsTo anyone that reads it lol
Notes:Enjoy...

The whole bit was just fucked up. It was getting old looking for him night after night, and I’m not liking the entire babysitter shit either. It’s been like this for three fucking years and I’m sick of it. This time I’m not going to be easy on him either; I’m going to lay down my law and tell him he needs to get some serious help, or the other option of me killing him.

I trudged up the apartment building’s steps, all the way to the top floor. I took the long hallway swiftly, stopping in front of the grimy looking door with peeling paint. I shook my head as I took the doorknob, twisting it and violently throwing the door open.

“Oooo-kay!” I drawled, finding him on top of the unfamiliar face, yet another one he’s snuck behind my back, “Fun’s over ladies!”

“Wha-”

I cut him off, pointing at him, “You. Get the hell up and come with me,” I looked to the other guy, “And you, stay away from him or I…Will be the God damn death of you.” I growled.

They stared at me.

“Well come on! Get the fuck up Quinn!” My sarcastic anger was boiling over as he moved slower than death.

I shook my head advancing towards him, “Come on dear, time to leave the poor guy alone.” I grabbed his arm and ‘helped’ him up, dragging him with me towards the door.

I shoved him out first, turning to glare at the scruffy guy on the nasty gray couch, “I mean it you little shit, stay the fuck away from him.” I said angrily, flicking the yellow piece of paper that contained the dirt ball’s address I had found, onto the brown tiled floor.

I slammed the door behind myself and looked at Quinn, “You’re as God damn fucked up as that shit in there,” I threw my thumb towards the door we had just come from.

He looked shocked that I was actually here, he shouldn’t be…Not like it’s new for me to be chasing after him and dragging him out of yet another potentially harmful situation.

He still stared at me as I pushed him along, my hand guiding him from the small of his back. He’s gotta be high or something.

“How’d you find me this time?” He asked in a pathetic voice as I opened the building’s front door and pushed him out.

“Quinn, the way you make it sound it’s like a fuckin’ game to you.” I stopped him next to the white Explorer I drove, “Is this a game to you Quinn? Is this a fun little game of me losing sleep over having to chase you down at fucking three in the morning? Because if this is your idea of a game…I don’t feel like playing!”

No answer, just shame-filled eyes like always.

I looked him over slowly; making sure nothing had been inflicted on him. I sighed at his heart broken expression, moving closer and gently tugging him into my arms.

“I’m sorry alright…It’s just hard for me to know that you’re out and about with the best of the worst Quinn,” I felt his arms wind around my middle and his face burry into my neck.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled into my skin.

“I know,” I whispered to him, stroking the blond mess atop his head, also known as his hair. The last thing I needed tonight was for him to break down on me…again.

---

The ride back to our apartment was fairly quiet, he was making odd noises every now and then that was just weird and sorta freaked me out. I saw him look to me out of the corner of my eye as I drove the empty streets.

“Are you gonna leave me Jeph?” He asked quietly.

I frowned, glancing to him then back to the road, “I haven’t gone anywhere yet, so what makes you think I’m leaving this time?”

I watched him shrug and hang his head. I reached out and placed my hand on the back of his neck, squeezing lightly.

“No, I’m not going to leave you Quinn, I love you too much. Why the hell do you think I’m after you all the time, dragging your sex addicted ass home every night?” I paused to read his expression, “Because I love you, that’s why.”

So much for my laying down the law. It just tore me apart to see him like this, and that’s probably why he gets away with so much shit. He leaned across the middle compartment and wrapper his arm around me, my arm finding a comfortable spot around his shoulders.

“I love you too Jepha…” He mumbled against me.

---

I had to pretty much carry him into the apartment, thanking God that it was on the first floor. It was quite a chore finding the key to unlock the door while trying to hold 190 pounds of dead weight upright. Finally getting the key into the knob I was able to open the door with my foot, kicking it open lightly. I started to drag Quinn in, bumping his head on the door frame.

“Whops, sorry,” I said as I reached a hand around to rub where I had hit.

He really didn’t notice anyway, he was pretty much asleep. I tugged him into the bedroom we shared, letting him drop onto the bed. I pulled his sneakers off, followed by the socks and soon after, his pants, leaving him in his black pin striped boxers and brown Thrice tee. I started to rid myself of my clothing shortly there after, watching him as he moved like a slug to get under the blankets.

I pulled back the blankets on my side of the bed and sat down on the edge, glancing over my shoulder at him. A while ago Quinn had become addicted to sex, definitely not the healthiest of addictions. He’d go to these stupid help clinics and shit, I’d even supervise, but even I knew they weren’t doing anything for him. I had to watch out for him instead. Besides we are together after all and that’s what lovers do, they look out for each other. As one sided as that is in this case, it’s still solid.

The damn clinic people tell me it’s partly my fault, not providing what he wants. It’s true; I won’t deny the fact that we’ve only had sex twice in the entire four years we’ve been together, off and on of course. I tell him each time he tries to put his little moves on me that I’m not gonna be just another fuck, that I want it to have meaning.

I got a small chill suddenly from the feel of the tip of a finger with a small nail trailing down my spine. I glanced behind me in the mass of sheets and blankets, Quinn’s large eyes peering up at me, a small smile playing at his lips. I stood to hit the lights, and then made my way back to the bed, settling myself down into the comfort and into Quinn’s welcoming body space.

His hips automatically magnetized themselves to mine as his fingers trailed from my sides, to my hair, where they tangled themselves. He moved his face closer to mine and whispered something I couldn’t quite make out in his groggy state before he pressed his lips to mine. I won’t lie, he could definitely turn me on just by looking at me, but I wasn’t about to have mindless sex with him…No matter how odd that is.

I turned my head, breaking the short kiss before he could deepen it any further. I turned my head back, looking at him carefully, brushing strands of blond from his face, “Go to sleep,” I whispered.

---

I woke up slowly that morning, taking in a slow deep breath through my nose and stretching my arms out. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the intruding sunlight that came in through the large windows. I rubbed them, blinking a few times before I glanced over to see Quinn.

He smiled at me. He was already awake, sitting Indian-style on top of the blankets, watching me. He claimed it was his favorite thing to do when he woke up, to just watch me. I sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning myself against the headboard. I glanced over at his smiling face.

“And how’s my sex kitten this morning?” My irritating morning voice of rasp filling the quiet room.

“He’s good,” He replied quickly, crawling on all fours across the bed to finally reach my lap.

He sat on me, leaning into me for his usual good morning hug.

“I’m sorry about last night Jeph…” He said against me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I grumbled, a sense of repetitiveness over coming me.

---

I leaned on the island counter in the kitchen, looking over the cell phone bill. Quinn caught my attention as he ambled out to join me from the living area.

“Hey where’s you cell phone?” I asked.

“Right here,” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled it out.

I took it quickly, getting a surprised sound from him. I held down the power button until I watched the screen go blank, then I put it in the pocket of my own pants.

He stared, “What are you doing?”

“I’m having your cell phone shut off until I can trust that you aren’t using it as the 1-800-FuckMe Line,” I said rather matter of fact.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious love,” I said smiling, “Quinn, nothing’s working for you to stop fucking with random people. So maybe having your hotline on permanent stand by will change you.”

He shook his head, “Jeph no…That’s shit to leave a guy without his phone…”

I stood, walking my way around the counter to press myself to him, “Well then kitten, I suggest you change.” I kissed him once, breaking away to see his priceless expression.

“You suck,” He whined.

“Only on occasion,” I teased.

---

Evening had already crept upon us as he sat now at the kitchen table in a little stare down. We had accomplished all the daily doings of shopping, cleaning and what not, and now it was time for a talk.

“I want it back, now,” He held his hand out.

I smiled, grabbing his hand in my own, “Umm… No.”

He glared at me, I only smiled, “Quinn, I need you to promise me that I’ll be the only one you need.”

I watched his face fall, he knew this was coming.

“I don’t want you out there with some shit head that’s never been tested for AIDS and shit. I don’t need you getting sick on me…I’d like to have around for a while you know.”

“I know, and that’s why I’ll stop…But its hard Jepha, I mean its like Bert and crack, he couldn’t just stop…It took a while.” He defended.

“Well I could always keep you here and never let you out, that would solve it,” I smiled.

“Only if you’re willing to fuck me every day,” He mumbled.

“I’m more than willing to fuck around with you Quinn, but no, not every day, and no not while I know other people are still in the mix.”

“No one else is in the mix Jeph, all they are are just one night stands that mean nothing…Just someone to get off on.” He bit his lip.

I sighed, “No more Quinn. To be blatantly honest with you…You’re skating on thin ice with me and this relationship. And before you get carried away, no…I’m not leaving you, merely giving you a heads up and a warning. I want to be the only one you look for for anything and everything, because one of these days one of those toys of yours is going to grow on you and I’ll be forced to deal with the heartache that neither of us want…You understand right?” I watched him carefully.

He nodded, eyes still not meeting mine.

I got up, moving around the table and leaning down to him, “Just promise me Quinn, no more side fucks…”

I saw his jaw clench, he was stubborn. I thought for a moment before I went on, “See this?” I held out my hand for him to see, “This wondrous thing is more than willing to jack you off every night of the whole damn year,” I turned his face to look at me, “And I’m more than willing to deliver as well…I want the trust back though, Quinn.”

His eyes scanned me as I held his face, seeming to get softer as he smiled at me, “I promise…”

I stared for a moment, wasn’t expecting that at all, not so soon anyway. Needless to say I was pretty damn happy about this, it was a big step for him and he was willing to take it with my help. I pulled him out of the chair and into my arms, whispering ‘thank you’s in his ear before turning and kissing him full and…fairly hard.

I tugged at him, tugged him all the way to the bedroom, where I shut the door slowly behind us…

Not even a minute after that did I have him slammed up against the wall while his lips wrecked havoc against my own. My hands ran through his hair and one of his stayed behind my neck while the other rested on my back, pulling me closer. His hands stayed around my waist and he plunged his tongue into my mouth, yearning to taste me again, it had obviously been a while since he’d gotten anything from me.

He was soon backing me up to the bed, pushing me down on it. I watched him from my lying position undress himself. I sat up, going straight for his pants as he removed his shirt and tossed it to the side. He smirked as yanked his jeans to the floor. He stepped out of them and leaned into me, a knee on either side of me as he leaned down to grab fist fulls of my shirt, and proceeding to tear it from me. My pants didn’t remain long either as things started to get heated.

He broke the kiss we had sloppily shared moments before and pressed his forehead to mine, “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” He breathed, his fingers toying with the waistband of my boxers as a devilish smile graced his perfect lips, “A very long time…”

***Ooooh and she stops it there! Lol sorry but if I had continued with that scene I would have ruined it all! You probably hate me…But its okay..I love you….So anyway yup sorry bout that, maybe sometime soon I’ll get my smut-mo-mind back and be able to write hot sex scenes again…Until then though I’m left with not being able to write them =( But yeah…hope you didn’t hate this lol and if you did well…I’m sorry. To those of you who did, yay! Lol thanks for reading!***

Lost P. 2

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 01:07:03 GMT

Title: Lost
Pairing: David/Pierre
Chapter Rating:PG/PG-13 (R if I ever get my smut mind installed again…)
Warnings: For now pretty much nothing but very mild language.
Summary: What’s one to do when he’s lost everything? Lean on the best friend of course! So lets follow a man that’s lost everything and see how he recovers using what raw materials he’s given.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them unfortunately…If I did…Well you don’t wanna know
DedicationsPretty much to anyone and everyone, there are a select few out there that know who they are. Thank you my loyal followers and I’m back!! …Kinda sorta maybe lol
Notes:For some reason people wanted me to keep going lol. So to all of you great people...Heres part 2 ^^ Enjoy

Lost

Part 2

I stood behind him as he unlocked and opened the door to apartment #7 of the brick apartment building. It was a nice one, clean and stuff, meant for the people that were quite a bit higher up on the food chain of life.

“Welcome, not much has changed since you’ve been here last,” He said swinging the door all the way open, the familiar smell of David playing with my nose.

“Not much you could possibly do to make this place look better Dave,” I laughed following him in.

The inside of his apartment was pretty much breath taking. It looked like some shit you’d see on MTV Cribs. My favorite part of it though wasn’t the killer plasma screen or the great kitchen filled with food… It was the arrangement of the three large windows in his room. They were set up to look like one of those tri-mirror things you’d find in a dressing room. And if I remember correctly, he had these white transparent curtains that made the sunsets over the city orgasmic.

“Why hello there little guy.”

I looked around to David’s voice. He was hunched over in front of something fairly small (he’s small, so whatever he was in front of was small to be blocked by him). I tried to look closer but he was blocking my line of sight. I took a careful step to the right, my shoe making a pretty gross ‘sploosh’ sound. I eyed the furry creature he was patting.

“When did you get a cat?” I asked.

“Cat?”

“Yeah…” I said pointing at the gray fluff.

He laughed, “Its not a cat Pie, it’s a chinchilla,” He corrected, lifting it off the wooden floor and holding it up for me to see.

This was quite… different.

“Why…Exactly do you have a chinchilla?” I asked slowly.

“Well, he belongs to the elderly woman that lives down the hall in #5. A few nights ago she had to go to the hospital, she’s got heart problems,” He paused looking down at the fur ball with freakishly large eyes, “And then I got a call from her the next day. She asked if I could look after him until she returns,” He looked up at me smiling, “His name’s Boon and he’s really cool though! I mean he’s not smelly, he’s litter box trained and his food isn’t expensive…Not that it would matter, I feel bad for that lady. If I had to, I’d buy her all the food this guy would ever need for the rest of his life…”

I watched as his smile faded and he slowly stroked the top of the chilla’s head.

“David,” He looked up at me, “She’ll be fine, and before you know it she’s gonna be back for that thi—For Boon…” I smiled, hoping he was too deep in thought to notice my unkind words towards…Boon…

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” He smiled, setting the creature down and watching it for a moment.

“Oh! I’m sorry! Okay let’s get you dried off!” He nearly yelled, catching me off guard and getting a slight jump out of me.

He turned quickly in the direction of his bathroom.

“Um…”

He turned to look at me, I pointed down at my shoes, “Where should I put them?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just leave ‘em there.”

“But I’ll still track shit around with my feet…” This was weird it was like I was making excuses…

He smiled, “Pie, I’ll Dirt Devil if I have to, but you need to get dry. Come on,” again he motioned to follow him.

What a women he was, can’t say I didn’t like it. This time I did follow him, walking as if on egg shells as he lead the way to the bathroom.

His bathroom was gorgeous. It was probably bigger than Lisa’s kitchen, living room, and bedroom combined. Everything in it was always spic and span. I watched him disappear for a moment before returning with his hands wrapped around, what I was guessing, clothes for me.

“Here you go, I’m sure these will fit you…Their my biggest pair,” He handed me navy boxers, “Not that your fat or anything of course,” He laughed nervously then continued to hand me a black shirt, “And this is Jeff’s, he left it here a long time ago…Don’t worry I washed it…Twice.”

I laughed, setting them beside the sink as he went on.

“And once your dry and all that, you can leave your stuff here on the counter and I’ll wash ‘em for you,” He smiled, patting the counter next to the washing machine.

“Thanks David, I really appreciate this…”

He kept his smile as he pulled a towel from the back of the door and handed it to me, “No problem Pierre, you know I’ll always be here to help,” He said quietly, eyes averted…As if that rat thing was listening.

I smiled unconsciously, taking the towel, noticing some embroidery on it. I moved it so I could easily read it.

“You had your name sewn on your towels?” I glanced at him, quite amused.

“Well…Yeah, I mean they looked cool in the store and I was kinda thinkin’ you know…Just in case…Right?”

I laughed at his mixed emotional expression of fear that he was weird, and the fondness of the towel.

“Nah you right, they are pretty neat, eh?” I said, hoping it would make him feel better.

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to your thing,” He smiled, turning to leave.

“Thanks again Dave,” I said as he exited, closing the door after himself.

And so I started to peal the clothing from my rather gross feeling body. I let my eyes slowly turn to gaze at myself in the mirror, standing there in nothing but my plaster-like boxers. I was having some weird staring contest with my reflection as my mind wandered back to earlier that day.

It wasn’t so much the fact that Lisa was gone from my life, no not at all… It was the sickening fact that a person could actually pull something like that off and tear you from the inside out, wrenching your heart from your chest and having to watch it be crushed in the beholder’s hand….To make you feel like you could never trust again…

I watched my face contort a bit into a disgusted state. I looked my body over carefully. I was nothing, an ugly façade…A front to cover up the selfishness, just like she said, self-centered and conceded.

I was never good enough for her, never good enough for my parents…I was even as low as to let my friends down on numerous occasions. A first class low-life with nothing in his future and no goals except an undying dedication to a small band that probably will go no where with him.

I broke eye contact with the disturbing man that stared at me from the mirror and turned my back on him, how dare I stare at someone I don’t know. It’s just plain rude to stare at a pathetic man who’s lost everything that ever mattered to him in life.

Dressed in the clothes David had provided, I started to unpack the dripping clothing from my bag, setting them down on the counter as David had instructed. I gathered the other things that weren’t exactly washing machine safe into my hands and slowly exited the bathroom, flicking the lights off.

I had been here so many times before that it was not necessary for David to show me to the spare room. I walked into the lovely and overly large room, remembering now just how much I loved it. In the right side of the room, when walking in, was the queen sized bed dressed neatly in navy sheets and pillows with a lighter blue quilt folded at the end. The large windows were a little farther from the bed, cushioned sill seats on all four of them. On the left was the mahogany dresser that matched the frame of the bed, with a large mirror. Just what I needed… And then it was all complimented by the soft cream colored walls, untainted and even, well kept.

I moved reluctantly to the dresser, placing my items in a small pile. I avoided eye contact with the man that had followed me from the bathroom, turning to leave and search for David. I’m sure he still had those questions, and he of all people deserved answers.

I went from the living area, to the kitchen, and to the bathroom again, looking for signs of him. I wandered back to the living room, turning to look at his bedroom door.

Duh… Where else would you have guessed Pierre, the roof?

I moved sluggishly to the open door, looking in, “David?” I called, not seeing him in the line of vision I was given without intruding.

“I’m out here Pierre!” He called back.

And where exactly was out here?

I took it as my okay to enter none the less. He must have changed the room around or redecorated or some shit like that, it looked a little different. His bed was in a different spot, pushed into the far right corner, a messy bed stand next to it. A large desk with an open laptop and other small desk took the place of where the bed used to be; pushed against the wall in between the two best sets of windows in the world. He had a few pictures that were moved, now hanging on the wall above the desk. One was a family picture, one was a group photo of all the cooks, including David, that worked at Tate’s (I remembered that day, they had a cook-off for some charity thing), and the other two were of all of us, me, David, Jeff, Sebastian, Chuck and Pat. It was from the day we went down to Massachusetts to go to the Six Flags theme park last year…When I still had paychecks coming my way.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t find work, its just that I didn’t stay interested in them. I’d end up either quitting out of the blue, or getting phone calls from angry bosses yelling, “You’re fired!” Because I’d screw up on purpose. That’s when I’d have to think up cheap excuses for Lisa and everyone else to buy.

“Is something wrong?”

I came back to reality, looking in the direction of his voice. He was staring at me, through the open windows.

“You have a balcony?” I asked stupidly, moving over towards him, just now noticing the windows weren’t windows…But doors that lead to, yes, his balcony…I answer my own damn questions. Doesn’t that mean I’m on the brink of insanity?

“Yeah,” He beamed, “Its great, come out and see,” He said, gesturing to go to him, and with no resistance, I did.

I stepped out onto the cool, damp concrete of the balcony that looked out over Montréal. I went to stand next to him, noticing he was holding that rat with giant brown eyes.

“I love to sit out here and do whatever keeps my interest on the computer. The sun even sets right here, its great.”

There was no sun today though, only…Hey, it just hit me that it stopped raining…Huh.

“Over there is the studio we record in,” He said pointing to a group of buildings in the far distance, “And if that building wasn’t there you’d be able to see Tate’s. That place over there is where Chuck and Sebastian live.”

I watched him closely as he pointed these out to me, I could honestly say I wasn’t paying attention to what he was pointing out or to what he was saying. Something about him just reminded me of Lisa… The way he held himself, the sense of being carefree and really not giving a damn how people saw him. It was attractive in its own sense.

“Pierre?”

I shook my head, brushing it aside with a semi nervous laugh, “Heh… Sorry Dave. Guess I’m just a little tiered.”

He smiled, “You should get some rest then Pie.”

“Yeah…But I actually wanted to answer some of those questions you had…” I was careful not to sound stupid, not entirely sure if it worked though.

His smile held strong as he shook his head, “Nah…Not today. You need some well deserved sleep.”

I nodded. He really was the greatest guy God made. Best of the best friends. I turned to go to the oh so welcoming bed of blue.

“Hey Pierre…”

I turned my head, our eyes making contact once again, “Yeah?”

His warming smile made a return appearance, “Make yourself at home.”

I think I gave my first genuine smile this whole week, “Thanks,” I whispered…I really hope I’m not blushing like a fucking pansy…

“Now get some sleep!” He ordered.

“Yes sir!” I laughed, giving an army salute and leaving him and Boon on the balcony.

***There you have it, you know me and comments so feel free lol. I promise it gets better, but I sorta wanted to do a fic that took a little bic and digging into the lives lol know what I mean? Lol not just the sex, I wanted some building up to it hehe...So yeah...Okay buh bye for now!!***

Lost P. 1

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 01:05:23 GMT

C.N.C. Mission 2

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 00:53:49 GMT

C.N.C. Mission 1

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 00:50:30 GMT

Title: Code Name Chaos (C.N.C.)
Pairing: Frank/Gee, Frank/Mikey (nothing heavy between the two)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 to R later on
Warnings: For now just language, it might go to sex but I’m planning on another chapter perhaps so I’m not sure, we’ll see how it plays out ^^
Summary: The boys of MCR are 18, the exception of Mikey who is 16, and attend the highly prestigeous St. Migelle, boarding school for the rich boys. You’d think being seniors they would understand the rules by now, but no, nothing will hold them back from creating yet another year of completely out of control chaos!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the members of MCR, I only own the characters I have made up for the story.
Previous Chapter: None
DedicationsTo anyone that takes the time to read! Lol
Notes:Enjoy

..::~~Mission 1: Cause Much Raucous~~::..

C.N.C. Subject number 1: Frank Iero

Frankie sat on the edge of his dorm room bed, scratching his mess of dark hair. He blinked a few times before yawning. He glanced over at the sleeping body across the room from him. He raised his eyebrow slowly as he heard the sleeping figure let out a sharp snore followed by a mumble of illiterate words.

Frank Iero. One of the more helious of the C.N.C. group. He was also the shortest, which got on his nerves. He wasn’t exactly fat, just well fed. He had stunning hazel eyes and straight dark hair that was nose length.

His eyes scanned the room as he stood, wobbling a bit like a drunk, who knows, maybe he was. He sure as hell didn’t know. His staggering took him to the other boy’s bed as he leaned on it, placing a hand on the sleeping figure’s shoulder. He shook him, receiving a groan, followed by a loud snore.

His eye brow shot up again as he stood there for a good five minutes. He blinked slowly, looking around the room sluggishly. His eyes fell onto his guitar and the small amp that set next to it. He looked to it, then to his sleeping friend, then back to the guitar. He smiled as he stalked over to the amp, plugging it into the outlet next to the boys bed. He propped it up on the nightstan, looking to the boy to see if he’d awoken. Nope. He took cord the and plugged it into his guitar, which he had slung over his shoulder and chest. He clicked the switch as the buzzing of the amp filled the quiet room.

He smiled very smug as he slowly turned the dial on his guitar’s volume to 10. He glanced at the sleeping figure, eyes still shut and oblivious to the world. Shaking his head Frankie hit all six strings, causing the entire room to tremble.

“HOLY FUCK!” And Sleeping Beauty slept no more.

C.N.C. Subject number 2: Gerard Way

He shot up in his bed, goldish brown eyes wide and shoulder length black hair falling in his face as his heart threatened to beat its way out of his chest. He glared over at the bent over laughing Frank.

“You’re fucked in the head!” He growled as he threw his pillow at him.

Gerard Way. The most destructive, creative, hell-raising, uproarious member of the C.N.C. group. The ringleader, the mastermind, behind all the chaos that took place at uppity St. Migelle.

“Piece a shit…” He growled getting out of the comfort of his bed and stretching his arms into the air.

Frank’s hearty laugh had simmered to a chuckle as he placed his guitar and amp at the head of his bed where they had originally been.

“I thought it would be a lovely wake up call for such a lovely person.” He said, resting his hand on the small of Gerard’s back and circling to the front of him.

Gerard looked down into his eyes, light seeming to play on them perfectly. He looked over the other’s face that had fallen silent as it soon rested onto his chest. The usual morning display of affection between the two.

---

Frank stood before his open locker, examining himself in the small mirror on the door. He straightened his tie and grimmaced at himself.

“Hey!”

He jumped from the loud greeting that had been shouted into his ear. He swung around, a grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he spotted Ray, smiling madly behind him.

C.N.C. Subject number 3: Ray Toro

Ray Toro. A complete and utter weirdo. By far the strangest of the group. With a fro of carrot colored curls and brown eyes. Convinced that crayons are flavored and willing to do pretty much anything to get a reaction.

“’Sup buddy!” He continued.

“Nothing…Why are you yelling?” Frank asked raising an eyebrow.

Ray shrugged pulling him into a head lock, “Hey! What the hell are you doing!”

“You’re too obsessed with your face! You’ll miss chemistry.” Ray teased as he slammed Frankie’s locker shut and dragging him through the waves of students.

Who would ever want to miss chem class?! It was by far the coolest class, when did you ever get to see your entire group of friends and be able to blow things up at the same time? Yeah, in chem class, thats where.

Ray released Frankie’s head from his arm pit as they entered the class, late. Gerard was sitting at a table that sat five with a sink in the middle of it. He waved for them to join him and the two others that sat with him at the table. Ray and Frankie proceeded, weaving through the tables, ignoring the hateful stares from the jocks, the swooning stares from the girls (what girl didn’t like a trouble making bad boy?), and the resentful stare of the teacher.

“Sit, you’re late.” The teacher growled.

Frankie took the seat in the middle of Gerard and Mikey, smiling, “Hey Mikey.”

C.N.C. Subject number 4: Mikey Way

He smiled back to Frank, “Better late then never I suppose.”

Mikey Way. Tall, skinny and so damn adorable. He was the most timid of the group but had some devious ideas swirling in that genius brain of his. He was the most timid, but the smartest in the C.N.C. group. Lightish brown hair that fell over his forehead and stood in the back, and brown eyes under slightly thick-framed glasses to match.

The only think imperfect about Mikey was the asthma. Every now and then a spas attack of coughing would come on. Immediately followed by either Gerard or Frankie held him and calmed him while they would fumble for the inhaler. Thank God, though, over the years there have been less and less of these surprise attacks.

Frankie smiled at his statement as he glanced over to Bob, who sat between Mikey and Ray. He gave a salute to Frankie, which he returned with a forced stern face.

C.N.C. Subject number 5: Bob Bryar

The final groupie of C.N.C. Bob wasn’t one to fool with, he was sort of like the body guard of the other guys. He was a big guy, height and weight wise. Short blond hair and a slightly darker color blond beard, and blue eyes that chilled.

They were definitely a sightly mismatched bunch of guys surviving their years at St. Miggelle’s through causing uproars and chaos.

“Listen up now, I’ll be passing your tests back and then I want you delinquents to continue with the lab from yesterday.”

The teacher looked around the room as he passed the tests back.

“I anticipate…An F.” Gerard said with a smile as he leaned back in his chair.

“I anticipate you’re never going to get out of here.” Mikey said, getting a chuckle from the others at the table.

“And I anticipate I’m gonna rip your balls off.” Gerard growled at his brother.

“I anticipate you need to study more.”

Attention was drawn to the teacher as he handed out the tests to each boy at the table, Gerard being last before the teacher stepped away, back to his desk.

“Yes! I was right, point 1 Gerard!” He yelled making a ‘yes!’ motion with his fist.

Mikey reached out over Frankie and smacked Gerard blindly on the nose.

“Ow! What the fuck!?” He whined grabbing his nose.

“You deserve it!” Mikey said crossing his arms, “I got an easy A.”

“C+ for me.” Frankie added, holding up his test.

“B-.” Bob nodded to the paper in front of him.

“C right here.” Ray said, the guys glancing at Gerard.

He glared at them, “Shut up…” He mumbled through his hands.

--

“Alright! Lets get this shit started.” Frankie said, pulling his goggles over his eyes that he had stolen from the swimming storage room, followed by two oven mitts he had filched from the home economics class.

Gerard was busy spinning in the stoll he was sitting on to pay attention to what was going on around him. Mikey looked over the direction from yesterdays class, as Ray and Bob talked about drum sets and guitars. Frankie glanced over at Mikey holding the sheet of paper. He reached over and grabbed it with his mitted hand and tossed it over his head.

“Now now you know that directions are for goody goodies who actually want to stay safe and watch nothing blow up.” Frank said smiling at the contents in front of him.

Mikey rolled his eyes, scooching back and smiling, “Be my guest Frankie.” He said holding up his hands.

Frankie nodded as he started to pour many different liquids into the glass container in front on him. Gerard had stopped spinning to watch, knowing Frankie the entire chem. Lab would blow this time. Ray and Bob watched as well, anticipating a great show this time.

Frank paused as he held a bottle of the strongest chemical on the table. He glanced up at the waiting faces of his friends, smiling he quickly dumped the blue liquid into the concoction he had been mixing. He shielded his face, as well as the other boys.

Nothing.

Frankie peeked through his mitted hands at the pinkish liquid of his creation. He scoffed.

“Well what the hell?!” He glared at it, the others looking semi disappointed.

“Oh well, it was a nice try.” Ray shrugged, leaning of the table.

Frankie stared at it, “Wonder what it tastes like…”

“Hell no Frankie, that crap will kill you.” Mikey warned as Frankie took up the container in both hands.

“Well then at least he’d die doing something he loves.” Gerard chuckled along with Frank.

“That’s not funny it could be serious!” Mikey whined.

“Would you quit your bitchin’?” Gerard growled, “I wanna see what happens.” He chuckled.

“Maybe his skin will change color.” Ray smirked.

“Or maybe his shit will change color.” Bob said making everyone except Mikey laugh.

“Whatever…” Mikey mumbled, “Do what you want.”

Frankie took that as an OK and put the glass to his lips, smirking at the guys before he took an enormous swig off of it. His eyes bugged as he swallowed, slamming the container down in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears welling in them, as he covered his mouth with one of the mits.

“WHOA!” He screamed as his eyes opened wide again, his mouth open as if he was yawning.

He coughed, laughing, “That shit is STRONG! Holy God, that’s probably better than fuckin’ moonshine!” He yelled.

Gerard laughed hysterically as Ray and Bob joined in. Mikey stared at him, as if waiting for him to blow up or something.

“What did you just do?!” The teacher was behind them, looking at the container then to Frankie, “Don’t tell me you….You drank that!?”

“I sure as fuck did Mr. C!” Frankie laughed/yelled.

“Hey! Hey what’s goin’ on!? I don’t like ya like this Mista C!” Frankie laughed like an insane drunk as he was dragged by the dress shirt out of the room.

“Great. Mr. C looked pissed, he’s never going to let him touch chemicals again.” Bob laughed.

“He’ll be fine. Frankie’s a brute.” Gerard said as he chuckled again as he replayed it in his head.

The rest of their class dragged on, Mr. C had not returned and neither had Frankie. Ray was busy writing obscenities all over his test, as the others were actually busy with work.

“Hey,” Ray said, causing them all to look up at him, “Do you think crayons are flavored?”

“No, I think they are just colored wax…” Mikey said.

“Why not test your theory, Ray.” Gerard laughed.

Ray stared intently at the crayon, smirking at Gerard licking it then bit into it swiftly. Mikey stared at him as if he were insane as well as Bob. Ray chewed looking around the ceiling thoughtfully. He swallowed and ran his tongue over his front teeth.

Silence.

“Yup, you were right. It’s a bit waxy.” He concluded.

They laughed despite themselves.

--

Dinner had started with a food fight as usual in the dining hall, and then the usual kickage outage of there after their fun. They roamed the halls of the school, dragging their feet.

“Its pretty dull without the other half of the demolition duo here.” Mikey saud referring to Gerard and Frank.

Gerard nodded, “Yeah, but he’s probably still in the nurse.”

The teacher had pulled all four of them after class and told them that Frankie had been taken to the nurse and the stuff that he drank was deadly and had to get his stomach pumped.

All though was on Frankie that they didn’t notice the footsteps running after them down the dimly lit hall.

“Hey!”

They turned and saw Frankie dashing for them, carrying something. Gerard’s eyes lit up as he spread his arms and caught Frankie as he jumped at him.

“Good to have you back!”

“You missed the food fight.” Ray said laughing.

“There’s always tomorrow, but check this shit out!” He chirped holding up what he had been carrying.

“Gross what the hell is it?” Mikey asked looking at it.

“Its my stomach!”

He shook the jar of thick deep pink liquid and brown and black chunks, “I stole it from their fridge! Isn’t it neat? I mean look, that’s my breakfast and the black stuff is the charcoal they shoved down my throat and the pink is that shit I drank!” He was over the top excited.

They laughed. Frankie wasn’t only one of the funniest people alive, but he was also good at stealing things without people noticing and still being able to make a great escape.

“What do you say we share the contents with Migelle’s finest?” Frankie smirked deviously, wiggling the jar, the other boys smiled right back.

--

“Okay give it here.” Gerard whispered holding back the urge to burst with laughter.

Frankie handed him the jar as Gerard took it and unscrewed the lid. He turned to Mikey who that was holding the head of the large brown and write dog mascot costume. He looked to all of them.

“Bon appétit,” He smirked and dumped Frankie’s stomach contents into the mascot head.

They nearly gaged at the smell, “Tomorrow’s rally ought to be good.” Frankie laughed as he waved the air away.

“No shit,” Gerard laughed as he took the head from Mikey and started to twirl it, swishing the liquid around inside of it.

“How’d you ever think of this anyway Frankie?” Mikey laughed as he covered his nose.

“I’m just too smart for my own good, I guess.” He smiled, throwing his arm around Mikey’s shoulder, “Shall we blow this joint my friends?”

“Let’s,” Gerard said, carfully setting the head next to the costume that hung on a hook in the locker room.

They proceeded out, Gerard checking the halls to see if they were clear, telling everyone it was safe. They filed out, all except Ray. He stopped at the sight of an open locker with football gear in it, probably trying to air it out. He laughed lightly and undid the zipper of his pants and aimed right for the inside of the helmet. He zipped himself back up again and shut the locker door.

“Smells like roses,” He chuckled as he chased after his friends.

--

Gerard laid lazily on his bed in his boxers and a black tank, sketching madly in a book full of his talent full artistic style. He looked up for a moment as he watched Frank exit the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and one set carelessly on top of his head. He smiled at Gerard, who smirked.

“Hey sexy,” He said seductively.

“Don’t be a retard,” Frank laughed.

“I’m no retard, can’t help the truth.”

Frank rolled his eyes, patting his stomach, “Yeah, reeeeal sexy.” He snorted.

Gerard set his notebook aside and stood up and walked over to Frank, who dipped his head down. Gerard put his hands to Frank’s reddening cheeks and lifted his head to look at him.

“I don’t see why you’re so self conscience, I don’t know of any girl that doesn’t want you in this school.” He smiled.

Frankie’s breath taking eyes locked with his, “I don’t want them though…”

Gerard held his smile as he took the towel off of Frankie’s head, slinging it aside before bending down slightly, pressing his lips to Frankie’s neck. Frankie sighed, he loved his neck being kissed, perhaps his horny spot even. He tilted his head for Gerard to have better access.

A sudden knock at their door caused an annoyed groan from Gerard as he separated himself from Frankie reluctantly to get the door.

“What?” He bit as he swung the door open.

Mikey stood in the doorway in blue pajama pants and a white tee, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Why…Its not the greatest time Mikey.” He growled through clenched teeth.

“Well..Ray is being super weird and I can’t handle it. Please just for tonight…Am I interrupting something?”

He leaned past Gerard, spotting Frank’s blank stare. His eyes widened a bit at the site of Frank’s towel, that had slipped quite far down. He let out a little yelp as he pulled it up quickly, swallowing hard and clearing his throat.

“I-its alright Gee, let him spend the night..” Frankie croaked, reluctantly however, he wanted Gerards lips back on his neck.

Gerard sighed and let the door open, Mikey walking in slowly as he smiled at Frankie, “Thanks.” He whispered.

“No problem, take my bed,” He said pointing to his neatly made bed on the left side of the room.

Gerard stood next to Frank glaring at his brother as he crawled into Frank’s bed, “Clothes would be good…” He mumbled.

Frankie snapped out of his daze and nodded, grabbing a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt from his dresser and taking them to the bathroom. Gerard sighed as he made his way to his own bed, placing the notebook on the nightstand next to his bed and sitting on the edge.

“Gerard…Do you hate me?” Mikey asked.

“No, Mikey, I don’t.” He replied, “Go to bed.”

Mikey nodded and took his glasses off, placing them on the crowded nightstand belonging to Frankie. Gerard watched him for a moment before he noted Frankie exiting the bathroom once again. He smiled walking over to Gerard and sitting next to him.

“Be easy on him…I wouldn’t want to room with Ray either,” Frankie whispered into Gerard’s ear, running his left hand from the top of Gerard’s head to his cheek, forcing his head to turn and face him.

“We need to sleep, its late…” He whispered and quietly pressed his lips to Gerard’s, separating as quickly as he had come on.

Gerard nodded longingly as Frankie claimed the wall. They settled under the blankets, Gerard moving closer to spoon Frankie, wrapping his arm around him protectively.

Tomorrow would hold much fun and chaos on their behalf.

This Is Me: P.4

theunderdogunit — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 00:40:54 GMT

Title: This Is Me
Chapter: 4
Previous Chapters: Prologue & Chapters 1-3 can be found in my journal.
Author: Me! Brandi (SpiffyTurkey)
Rating: PG-13 (Perhaps shifting to R in later chapters)
Summary: Do you have time to listen to a closeted 24 year old man tell you of his life? This is the struggle of love and hurt, a constant war.
Disclaimer: None of this happened, I don’t own MCR -cries-
Dedication: Anyone ^^
Authors Note: Enjoy

I would drive on to the end with you. A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full. And I feel like there's nothing left to do. But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running

..::~MCR Demolition Lovers~::..

Part 4

Two weeks. Two long, grueling, agonizing, torturous weeks. And he hasn’t spoken more than two words to me, which, if I recall were ‘Excuse me’. I’m always in his way it seems now. Gerard tries to assure me that he’s just getting used to the fact, but I still see that glimmer of disgust in his expression when he catches me stealing a glance at him. I’ll be honest and say that it felt better keeping it on my chest; I wish I had never told him.

We were in Georgia now, Atlanta to be exact. We stood on the stage of the Atlanta Civic Center for sound check for the 7:30 show. I had my mind wandering and had already screwed up fifteen or so times…Nothing new since the day I told Mikey

“Jesus Frank! Get your head out of your ass and get it right, please!” Ray growled slapping his hand to his forehead.

“I’m sorry…” I mumbled, fumbling with my pick.

I felt their eyes on me, bearing into me like bullets that stung. I kept my eyes down as if that if I looked up I’d die…Not that that would be a bad thing at the moment.

“Alright, again then.” Gerard said calmly.

Ray started out with the ever so familiar beginning chords of I’m Not Okay (I Promise), with me and the others joining in shortly after. I watched the empty seats in front of us, thinking of how they’d be filled entirely of frenzied fans ready to scream their lungs out for us. For them anyway, not that I’m feeling sorry for myself but Gerard and Mikey got most of the attention, which left me, Ray and Bob to sit and watch.

I noticed something wasn’t right. I looked over to the guys. They were all staring at me, still playing my chords. I stopped slowly, as Ray glared at me.

“Frank! You’ve played this song a million times! What is the matter with you?”

I shook my head slowly, my eyes searching them for at least some sign of ‘its alright’. Gerard sighed, moving over to me, placing his hands on my cheeks and shook me lightly.

“Concentrate Frankie, you’re letting mind wander…” He whispered to me.

I felt anger suddenly rush over me as I pulled away from him quickly. I yanked the power cord that went from my guitar to the amps and turned to leave, shoving my precious Gibson into the arms of the tech crew guy, causing him to stumble. I felt a hand on my wrist, turning my head to see Gerard looking at me shocked.

He shook his head, “Frankie don’t do this…” He said, I heard the utter disbelief in his voice.

I wrenched my wrist away from his grip, “Get Quinn to take my place,” I moved forward leaving the stage, “I’m over this.” I finished before my voice had the chance to crack.

It was a tour with The Used after all, so Quinn could easily fill me in, but it wasn’t fair to him. At the moment I could have cared less though. Right now I wanted out, out of this band, out of this place, out of this world.

I pulled off the imitation bullet proof vest I wore once on the bus, tossing it aside. I stripped myself of the black pants, replacing them with my jeans. I didn’t bother ridding my body of the white dress-like shirt and red tie. I exited the bus with my wallet and mind set on destruction.

I made stealthy moves to avoid the contact with fans, I loved them, don’t get me wrong, but right now I had cracked and wouldn’t be able to face them. Let alone let them see me in this state of being, a mess of emotion and frustration. I had made it to a back street behind the Center, shoving my hands into my pockets as I burned holes in the ground with my tear-ridden eyes.

I must have looked like a prize…Red faced and tears filling my eyes, jeans and a messed white dressy shirt with the band arm band still around my bicep. I looked down at the little pest, clutching it in my right hand and tore it from my arm, throwing it hatefully to the ground, not even a second glance back at it as I trudged on to nothingness.

I attracted many stares as I made my way slowly through the town, I must have had a bad vibe for no one, not a single person approached me. And I was selfishly happy with it too. This gave me time to think, to think of all my mistakes. The worst being ever setting eyes on Gerard. If I had just left him alone I would have never Mikey, never met Ray or Bob, I would have been on my own to finish college, get a career, and be successful. All down the drain. There was no hope of me ever getting to do all that over, I wasted my life on a dream that only semi came true for me.

I needed a drink. A strong ass drink.

I pulled my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans, opening it to see what I had left. I thumbed through it, two fifties, which would by me a bus ticket out of here, and eighty in twenties, good I can get food, alcohol, and a bus ticket…Perfect. I was about to go into the local store when I spotted a dirty man sitting outside the door with a sign.

Will work for food

I immediately felt a stab to the heart as I clutched my wallet. He held his hand to people that could have cared less if he even existed. I looked over his scruffy unshaved face and tattered clothing.

I’d fucking walk to Jersey.

I made my way over to him, taking the $180 from my wallet and moved slowly towards him. He saw me coming and held his hand to me like every other person that passed him. I stopped and stared for a moment, his eyes averted, and his hand fell. I bent and took his grimy hand and put the money in it, I smiled sadly, “Take care,” I whispered.

I curled his fingers over the money, standing straight again as his eyes widened. Squeezing his shoulder lightly, I moved on, leaving him as just another thing of the past. I smiled broadly to the sky as I felt the tears coming. It was about time, the damn things staled way too long. I rubbed my nose of the prickles and rubbed at my eyes to abate the tears.

I had wandered to a less populated area of town, where I felt like shit and had to sit. I fell onto a rickety wooden bench outside of a For Sale building, my eyes slowly scanning the area as I wiped at them yet again. For Atlanta this area surprised me, hardly a single life form. I wondered what time it was, probably sevenish at least. I had walked for what seamed like forever. I had my eyes set on a little store with window stickers on it.

Tattoos & Liquor

What I would give for some heavy vodka.

I had been staring so hard at the shop that I didn’t notice that I had company until I felt the slight shift of the bench as the visitor sat down beside me. I looked over slowly. I nearly shit myself.

Quinn.

I stared up at him in disbelief; his expression was emotionless as he sat straight, eyes focused forthright. I dared not speak, incase he lash out at me for being an idiot and walking out on my band mates. I swallowed hard when his eyes turned slowly, followed by his head, locking onto me. I wanted to run away, far away, as away as my legs could carry me. But right now…I was paralyzed.

They narrowed as he searched me, his perfect lips parting to speak, “Tell me.” He said simply.

I played dumb, “Tell you what?” I croaked.

“Tell me what’s caused this outrageous mood swing.” He said in a low voice, as if afraid someone might over hear.

“Have you been fallowing me?” I asked stupidly.

“Gerard was in hysterics in Bert’s arms so you better have some happy excuse that I’ll sympathize with. Either that or I’m going to beat your ass.” He growled.

I could tell he wasn’t happy with me, this made me want to dissipate to nothing even more. Having such a beautiful creature mad at you was God’s way of saying ‘You fucker, look what you’ve done!’ and look what I have done. I don’t what other’s see in his face, but I see an angel. If he was in an all white attire with a sunset behind him and the glow laminating him, he would definitely pass as one. He’d needs no halo with that hair.

I shook my head, my eyes falling.

“Frank,” I looked at him a bit surprised from the sternness that lingered in his voice, “Tell me.”

I moistened my lips, sucking on my lip ring a moment before I spoke, “I ruined myself.”

“And how is that?”

I shrugged one shoulder, “I told…” I fucking hated him at the moment; I’d have to tell him, God only knows if he actually knew I was gay. I shook my head, placing my hand on my forehead, “I told Mikey I… That I’ve liked him for a long time.”

What am I a fucking school girl?

He looked thoughtful, “And he shut you down?”

Wow, he took that well, “Yeah pretty much.”

He stood slowly looking down at me, “Come on, get up.”

I stood, for some reason my legs just lifted me. I hated standing next to him, I was already short but looking up at him just rubbed it the fuck in. He turned me around, the way that I had come, tightly wrapping his long arm around my shoulders.

“I have news for you,” He said as we started walking, “People get shot down every day. Do you know how many people have turned me down and I felt like I was going to fall apart?”

I looked at him; I couldn’t believe this, the angel getting turned down?

He nodded, smiling down at me, “I was turned down by Jeph.”

I stopped dead, he’s gay?! Where the FUCK have I been!?

“Close your mouth,” He laughed as I clamped my mouth shut, “But look at me now Frank, our relationship is fine, he may not like me in that way but our friendship has broadened since then.

Did you even give Mikey the chance to warm up to the fact that you weren’t going any where? No, you didn’t. You gave up, you let his avoidance of you get the better.

Frankie, I want you to play this show like it’s your last. Show those bastards that you won’t be defeated by a little bump in the shitty road of life.”

I didn’t have words to explain how much more beautiful that just made him.

He reached into his pocket, he pulled out something black, handing it to me.

My MCR arm band.
--

I ran in through the stage doors, tugging my vest on and wrapping my MCR band around my arm. Stage crew looked at me is amazement.

“My guitar! Give me my guitar!” I yelled, tucking my shirt into my black pants.

“Gerard and the guys are out there now telling them you’re a no show.”

“Well then give me my fucking guitar.” What idiots…Seriously.

I was all plugged in as I checked for any loose wires. I slightly adjusted the guitar strap as I made my way to the stage. I heard Gerard’s voice; he was muffled though by the curtain in front of me, he had said my name and then came boos from the awaiting fans. I took in a deep breath as I pushed the curtain aside, running onto the stage of bright lights.

Cheers from all corners of the Center erupted as I adjusted my ear plugs smiling wildly as Gerard swung around. I ran over to him, grabbing his face and planting a kiss to his forehead. He stared at me for the longest time.

“I believe we have a show to play for these crazy ass fans.” I said into Gerard’s microphone he held.

Cheers bounced off the walls yet again as Gerard smiled at me, “What the fuck made you come back?!”

I waited a moment, before smiling, “An angel.”

I glanced at each of my band mates, surprised to get a smile out of each one of them, even Mikey.

That night I did play like it was my last, hitting every chord perfectly, not missing one lyric or beat. Completely on top of everything.

All thanks to an angel that cared.