Journal of Mistress Kat

That's... PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE! \o/ *cracks knuckles*

But, still. Give me examples. Which pale people? Who would spank them? How many times?

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patrick should get spanked. i have a weakness for him! and his little butt is so cute.
and gerard! he's pale. allthough it would be pretty hot if gerard spanked patrick! >_<

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oikku.livejournal.com

i never would have thought of that myself, but gerard spanking patrick? OMG I WANT. someone should totally write that.

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YES PLEASE!
somebody do it!

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sharon-hate.livejournal.com

Haha! Your weakness for his little butt! And his little panties! IMAGINE IT.

On Warped, while Gerard is going on and on about how brave and strong Patrick is, he starts getting all these mental images of pulling them off slowly and just touching him. Then spank! LOL AGGHH.

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ahhhh!
<3333

i want this to happen. i want it i want it i want it! *tantrum*

i bet that when patrick blushes, he blushes down his chest. am i a creeper for thinking about that?

Posted by

I can't see Patrick as nothing but a top so... Patrick spanking Gerard? Now that would be worth the entrance fee...

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i agree, patrick doesn't quite strike me as a bottom either...but i have a thing for his butt!
oh well.
usually, i don't really care about top vs bottom so sure! :)

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And then Pete walks in on Patrick spanking Gerard. And at first he thinks he's upset because Patrick and Gerard but then he realises that what he's really upset about is that it's Gerard Patrick's spanking and not him.

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priceless!!!

instead of doing the polite, obvious, thing (turning around, walking out, and putting something on the door handle because the dickheads inside forgot to) he utters some loud, surprised, noise. like "gnurnk!" cause he's pete.

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and both Patrick and Gerard freeze, Patrick with his hand still raised, Gerard braced over the sofa, red-faced and panting. After a while Patrick lowers his hand, deliberately placing it on Gerard's bare ass, fingers spanning his hip bone.

"Pete," Patrick says, his voice smooth like steel. "Either get in or get out, but close the fucking door."

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HAIMORPLZ?

Like, the part where Gerard's whimpering, just a little bit, and his hair is in his eyes, but he can't brush it out.

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because Patrick told him to stay still and Gerard knows what happens if he doesn't. So he just grips the frayed sofa cushions harder, even though everything in him wants to cringe away, to cover up. He can feel Pete's eyes on him, wide and shocked, running all over the long naked length of his spine, down the curve of his ass where Patrick's hand is resting.

The shame flushing through him is quick and scalding, and Gerard twitches instinctively, feels Patrick's fingers tighten past the point of pain. There's nowhere to hide and then Pete closes the door and it's too late anyway.

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Pete's just, "Patrick?"

Gerard wants to just die, because he's pretty sure it doesn't get much worse than your little brother's ex-whatever walking in on you getting your ass smacked like a little kid. He can't see, well, much of anything, but he knows Pete's going to tease him over this. Pete's just that kind of asshole.

He's really re-considering this whole "don't move" thing in favour of running for what's left of his dignity, when Patrick's hand tightens on his hip, pressing him down and there's a heavy smack to his left thigh.

"Jesus!"

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"Don't even think about it," Patrick says and the words are for Gerard but the look in his eyes is all for Pete.

Pete who is hovering in the doorway, one hand still on the handle, like he needs the connection to stay standing. Gerard can sympathise. He's been on the receiving end of that look (dark, dangerous, commanding) more than once himself, though he's intrigued that this is apparently the first time Pete sees it, see Patrick like this. Gerard had thought, had assumed--

"You can watch," Patrick says to Pete, his voice interrupting Gerard's thoughts. "Or you can join in."

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Gerard can feel the hesitation in the air, like the uncertain perfume of a girl who isn't supposed to be wearing any. Yet.

Then Pete leaves the door, feet shuffling towards them. The footsteps slow, then stop. He, Gerard chances a glance back over his shoulder, clearly doesn't know what to do now that he's here.

"Gerard."

Gerard flushes and looks back at the ugly sofa cushions. He wonders what would happen if it was a magic sofa-

No. A cursed sofa, one that would swallow them up whole and he'd wind up in a far away land, pants around his ankles, but at least away from this whole situation.

Patrick laid down at least ten hard smacks and Gerard was wrenched back to the present.

"Ow! God!"

"Patrick." Pete sounded a little troubled.

"It's okay." Patrick rubs at the sting and Gerard almost pushes back into it, except no, bad idea. "It's alright, Pete."

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"Isn't it, Gerard?" Patrick ghosts a hand over his burning backside. "Tell him."

Gerard pants, open-mouthed and loud, sweat stinging his eyes. This isn't-- Patrick can't be asking him to--

Smack. This one is vicious, catching Gerard across the upper thighs, and he chokes, a broken sob caught somewhere at the back of his throat.

"Tell him, Gerard. Tell Pete how this makes you feel. Tell him what he's missing."

Gerard curves around the sofa, feeling his whole body flush, knows it shows, knows Pete can see it.

"I. I don't." He draws a shaky breath, hears Pete walk around the sofa until there's a dip in the cushions and he's kneeling in front of Gerard.

Gerard doesn't want to look, but Patrick grabs his hair, pulling his head back until he's face to face with Pete.

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"Tell. Him."

"G-good." Gerard chokes out, as Patrick's hand pulls away. "Good, I guess."

"Yes?"

"I- I don't know."

There's another smack, this one at the crease between thigh and ass, overlaying earlier blows. Gerard whimpers and shakes his head.

"Like there's someone there, someone stopping me. Pulling me back."

"That's good." Patrick starts rubbing him now, gentle, but even so it stings, just enough to remind him.

"Like there's someone else in charge." He's floating, a little, but he can still see Pete's face from behind his hair. "Someone taking care of me."

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Pete makes a sound, high and fragile, his hand coming up to touch Gerard's face hesitantly.

And Gerard, he can feel Pete's fingers trembling as they brush over his jaw, over his lips, and suddenly it's not about him anymore, not entirely.

Pete wants, needs what Gerard has, perhaps more than he does, and Gerard has never been able to give nothing less than his all when it's required.

So he puts it in the language he and Pete understand; verbs and adjectives and half-sobbed pronouns spilling out like ink from a broken bottle. Patrick sets the rhythm, and Gerard and Pete, they bring the words, they are the words.

"It's like falling," he says, and if his voice isn't quite steady it doesn't falter either. Patrick's hand connects with his ass again and Gerard rocks forward from the impact, Pete's palm sliding over his cheek, cupping the back of his neck, clinging on.

"Like jumping from a cliff, someone pushing me--" Patrick hits him again, making both him and Pete gasp. "Patrick, like Patrick is pushing me over it, and I could stop and I could run and I could fight--" His words are stumbling over each other in their haste to get out, matching the increased tempo of blows, coming faster and faster until it's impossible to tell them apart.

"But I won't, I won't, because he's going to make me fly."

Patrick pulls Gerard ruthlessly against him, clothes scraping against flamed skin.

Gerard screams, pouring his surrender into Pete's open mouth like a gift.

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The aftermath is wet and sticky, cooling at the edges. Pete pulls at Gerard until he's got him on his lap. His jeans scratch still sensitive skin and Gerard makes little noises, soft and breathy.

"Get up," Patrick pulls at his hair, almost gently. "Up on your knees, Gerard, I need to check on it."

Gerard sighs and leans on Pete, kneeling on either side of his legs, while Patrick runs a hand over his ass. He and Pete take the time to look each other in the eyes, Pete wide-eyed still and he, he knows, with heavy-lids and a glazed-over smile.

"You're alright," Patrick says, lowering himself onto the couch next to them.

"Better than alright," Gerard agrees, slumping against Pete for a moment. "Thanks."

Patrick just nods, running a hand down his back. It occurs to Gerard that he's the one wearing the least amount of clothes here and he reaches down, trying to pull his pants back up.

"I could go-"

Pete pulls him back, hands tight, almost tight enough to leave bruises.

"Stay."

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Gerard settles back down, wedged between Pete and the sofa cushions. Pete's eyes are flicking between him and Patrick, and Gerard knows why he doesn't want him to leave.

Pete's scared of being left alone with Patrick. Not because he thinks Patrick will do anything Pete doesn't want, but because he thinks Patrick won't do anything at all, not if it's just him and Pete.
Pete's breath is coming in short shallow bursts, the staccato of his heart visible at the hollow of his throat. Gerard makes himself relax, going soft and pliant, reassuring; his whole body radiating it's okay, it's okay.

Patrick watches them silently, His hand stroking idly up and down Gerard's back, careful not to stray to Pete's skin, not even by accident. Patrick is waiting for Pete to reach out first and Gerard hums in sympathy, pushing his face into the crook of Pete's shoulder. He remembers how hard that is, asking for something that he needs so bad he can actually taste it.

Underneath him Pete is shifting restlessly, tiny distressed movements of a fish caught in a line, tired and close to giving up.

"Pete," Patrick says quietly. "You can leave if you want to. You can just go. I won't--"

Gerard feels Pete's head snap back, everything coming to sharp desperate attention.

"We'll always be good, Pete. This won't change it." Patrick's voice is steady and almost casual, but his fingers are digging into Gerard's side painfully. This matters to Patrick so much more than he's letting on and Gerard wills Pete to see that, to understand.

It's an edge of a different kind of cliff they're teetering on now. Gerard wills Pete to jump.

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It takes a minute and a minute more, all of it soft breath and waiting, before Pete reaches out catches Patrick's hand where it's bruising Gerard's waist, wrapping their fingers together.

"I don't want to leave."

Gerard feels Patrick still, then reach out, around him, brushing at Pete's cheek. That voice comes back, the one Gerard knew about when he came and asked Patrick to help him.

"What do you want, Pete?"

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// just to let you know, I'm going away for the weekend. I'll be offline until Monday so the next instalment will have to wait until then... Really like what we're writing here and was wondering if it would make sense to move it to email? My address: kat_lair@hotmail.com Have also friended you as I have this policy about awesome co-authors and how they should be on my f-list *nodnod* //

(no subject)

Posted by

revelininsanity.livejournal.com - on 2008-03-28 04:40 am (UTC) - Expand

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