"Calm down, Pete," Patrick's voice is soft, but amused. He reaches up and presses Pete's face further into his shoulder, stilling him. The mood softens, almost imperceptibly and Gerard leans against Patrick, sighing, almost not feeling the hand tangling deeper into his hair.
Almost, that is, until it tightens and tugs, lightly. He's pulled back and away, not unkindly, but he whimpers, anyways and he's rewarded by a gentler touch, petting.
"Look at how pretty he is," Patrick says, and maybe he should feel objectified, dehumanized, or whatever, but instead all he can do is preen, just a little. "Look at those lips."
Pete's breath quickens and he whines.
Gerard looks up at him, the lines the sweat is making in his eyeliner, the fall of his hair over his eyes, the swell of his lips, then lets his eyes fall and nuzzles again at the hard line of his cock through the denim. It's like sandpaper on his cheek and he wants, he want so bad.
"I know," Patrick's voice is rich and soft, like the most expensive silk. "He's just made for this, right? Every time I see him I can't believe he's real." Gerard parts his lips and moans around Patrick's fingers as that hand slides around and presses against his mouth. "He's so good at it, too, Pete. So good."
"Please."
It's running through his head so loud he almost can't believe it's not him speaking and he has to look up to confirm.
"Please," Pete moans, whines. "Please, Patrick, I want his mouth, want it so bad, please."
Patrick cocks his head, keeps petting Gerard, and smiles.
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ninetydegrees
Re: Ever notice how LJ is like Democracy? It sucks, but everything else is worse.
on 2008-05-13 03:47 am (UTC)Almost, that is, until it tightens and tugs, lightly. He's pulled back and away, not unkindly, but he whimpers, anyways and he's rewarded by a gentler touch, petting.
"Look at how pretty he is," Patrick says, and maybe he should feel objectified, dehumanized, or whatever, but instead all he can do is preen, just a little. "Look at those lips."
Pete's breath quickens and he whines.
Gerard looks up at him, the lines the sweat is making in his eyeliner, the fall of his hair over his eyes, the swell of his lips, then lets his eyes fall and nuzzles again at the hard line of his cock through the denim. It's like sandpaper on his cheek and he wants, he want so bad.
"I know," Patrick's voice is rich and soft, like the most expensive silk. "He's just made for this, right? Every time I see him I can't believe he's real." Gerard parts his lips and moans around Patrick's fingers as that hand slides around and presses against his mouth. "He's so good at it, too, Pete. So good."
"Please."
It's running through his head so loud he almost can't believe it's not him speaking and he has to look up to confirm.
"Please," Pete moans, whines. "Please, Patrick, I want his mouth, want it so bad, please."
Patrick cocks his head, keeps petting Gerard, and smiles.