A Bandom Gets Spanked Meme

[kat_lair]

So, I’ve been whinging about this to a couple people (pushkin666 and sateenmusta have been most sympathetic), but there really should be more spanking fic in Bandom. I have the craving, okay? And sometimes you just have to be proactive about these things. So with that flimsy excuse, I present…

 

Smack Your Bitch Up – A Bandom Gets Spanked Meme

 

Comment-fic, speculation, random perving and photo essays about the most spankable ass in Bandom all welcome. Anon-commenting is enabled and IP tracking off, in case someone wants to letch anonymously. All pairings and all ratings, just please provide both in the subject line. Also, feel free to pimp widely.

Get to it. Over my knee, bitch. Now.

Comments

[crash-it-yo.livejournal.com]

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.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

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."

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

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.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

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.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

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!"

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

"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."

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

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."

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

"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.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

"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."

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

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.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

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."

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

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.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

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?"

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

// 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* //

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

Hmmm... I've never written through e-mail, but I'll toss you a note next chance I get. I have to get some letters written first, but I'll do my best! I really like what we're writing, too.

Hee. I'm friending you back, because it seems we could be mutually beneficial to each other.

I promise, that didn't sound that dirty when I thought it up.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

“I don’t—” Pete makes a little frustrated sound, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” Patrick says. “Give me the words, Pete. Just like always. This is no different.”

Gerard feels their hands, entwined and resting on his skin. He would move to the side, but neither Pete nor Patrick seem inclined to let him go and something inside him is whispering not yet, not yet, not yet.

***

_{so, I've just copy-pasted what he have so far into a word file and it's over 1600 words \o/ Definitely worth finishing. The beginning obviously needs some work too, but let's see where it goes first.}

Sorry, meant to email, but life ATE me.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

Suddenly, Patrick's hand moves down Gerard back, rubbing gently at his skin.

"Can you tell Gerard? Maybe you could tell him, and he could tell me?"

Gerard just gasps at that. Pete's voice, Pete's words, through him. He looks at Pete, and pleads with his eyes.

Say yes, say yes.
.........................

But no, seriously, life failed this week. Not badly, but in a sort of repetitious wave of mediocre badness. It's good to hear the story's so long, though. I mean, it's kind of the most porn I've ever had a hand in.

Re: Sorry, meant to email, but life ATE me.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Pete goes stock still for a second or two but then he’s moving, fast and jerky, pushing Gerard out of the way as he gets to his feet, breathing hard. Gerard thinks at first that he’s running away, but then Pete’s hand curls around the nape of his neck and he gets it.

Pete is going show what he wants. He’s going to fucking demonstrate it, and he’s going to do it on Gerard.

The fingers around his neck tighten and then Gerard is being wrenched off the sofa and practically thrown onto the floor. It’s not gentle, but it’s not careless or cruel either. Gerard falls in a twist of limbs and clothes, kicking his jeans the rest of the way off. Pete’s hands are helping him along, shifting and pulling until Gerard is where he wants him.

Where Pete wants to be himself.

Gerard understands. “On my knees,” he says. “Put me on my knees.”

***

No worries, RL being hectic for me too atm. Which is partly why I'm having fun with this. I can just write a little bit at the time, not overtly concerned where it's all going... it's kind of the most porn I've ever had a hand in. - when you put it like that it sounds positively filthy *gg* I've written quite a few fics myself (list here if you're interested (http://kat-lair.livejournal.com/40765.html)) including porn but for some reason I'm doing a lot of co-authored stuff at the moment...

Re: Sorry, meant to email, but life ATE me.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

Pete cocks his head, as though he's Hemmy, trying to figure it all out, then reaches down, wrapping a hand around Gerard's arm. He doesn't pull him up very far, just enough to put him where he wants him, up on his knees on the probably blue carpet.

Gerard thinks about that. It's not like he loves being on his knees. There are other things he likes better, but he's not going to push for them. This isn't about him, it's about Pete, it's about Patrick.

He's saving lives again.

Re: Sorry, meant to email, but life ATE me.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

On the sofa Patrick is all steady breaths and quiet attention. He nods at Gerard’s words, but his eyes are on Pete like it was he who said it, who asked to be folded down like dirty sheets.

Pete’s shaking, just a little, when he fists a hand in Gerard’s hair, tilting his head back until the tendons on his neck are burning.

Gerard gasps through the pain, through the sudden pressure of Pete’s hand around his exposed throat. “Please,” he says, and it’s Pete’s words he’s speaking. “Make me yours.”

Ever notice how LJ is like Democracy? It sucks, but everything else is worse.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

I commented on this, like, two days ago and it got EATEN. EVIL, LJ, evil.
...................................

Somewhere out of sight, he hears Patrick breathe in, not quite a gasp. Gerard pushes back against Pete's hand, moaning when it presses in.

"Please, please," he whispers, remembering what it was like the first time he knew what he wanted, even though he didn't know how to say it. "I want you."

"What do you want?"

The hand at the back of his neck is sudden, light, but promising. He twists his neck just enough to look over his shoulder where Patrick has pulled himself closer and closer, sliding along the sofa until he's close enough to touch. Gerard sighs and leans into the touch.

"Want you to fuck me," He murmurs, not sure who he's talking to, Patrick or Pete. "Fuck my mouth, bite me, leave marks."

"Yes," It's Pete, hissing low, like a cat. "Yes, Patrick, want you."

Re: Ever notice how LJ is like Democracy? It sucks, but everything else is worse.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

_{ugh, omg so late with the reply. life happened *shakes fist*}


“You already have me.” Patrick stands up, stepping around until his leg is pressed firmly against Gerard’s shoulder. He’s still not touching Pete. “I was just waiting for you to see it.”

Pete makes a raw, desperate sound at the back of his throat, swaying. Gerard reaches up automatically to catch him before he falls, gripping Pete’s hips tightly, thumbs catching on warm denim.

Pete shifts closer and Gerard can see that he’s hard, can feel the heat of it against his face. It should be weird, things between always are, at least a little bit, ever since Mikey, but somehow it’s not. Quickly, before he can change his mind, Gerard ducks his head and rubs his check over the hot line of Pete’s cock, nuzzling openly for a few seconds before pulling away.

When he looks up, Pete’s eyes are hooded. His fingers trail from Gerard’s mouth to his shoulder, tangling briefly in his hair. Pete’s wrist brushes over Gerard’s lips on its way past and he tilts his head, sees Pete’s hand cross the distance, slow like in a dream, finally curling around Patrick’s forearm.

The moment resonates like the silence after a shot.

Gerard is stock-still, but inside he’s floundering, caught in the way of the approaching storm-front and knowing he can’t outrun it. This weather change between Pete and Patrick has been long time coming, gathering momentum year by year, day by day, and now it will crash over all their heads.

Gerard’s afraid of drowning.

Re: Ever notice how LJ is like Democracy? It sucks, but everything else is worse.

[revelininsanity.livejournal.com]

It's almost a shock, like static in a cold night, when Patrick's hand twines into his hair. It's accompanied by a smooth, almost gentle voice.

"It's okay. We didn't forget you."

Gerard looks up, over his shoulder and sees Patrick smile down at him encouragingly.

"What do you want, Gerard?"

Gerard stares, foolishly, with his mouth open and eyes a little too wide. He waits too long, utterly confused at being here as part of it all, not just as the conduit between the two, that he simply has no answer. Patrick laughs at him, but not unkindly, and it's echoed by Pete, a bridge of sound.

"I know what I want," Pete says, thrusting his cock against Gerard's cheek. Gerard flinches automatically, but it's not quick enough, and he gets a mouthful before he's ready. He gags a little, trying to open his throat for it.

Patrick reaches up and slaps Pete's face, almost gently.

"Be nice."

Pete pouts, but pulls away, against Gerard's protests.

"It's okay," he says, when his breath is back, words tumbling out over each other. "I like it, can I? Patrick, can I suck him?"

Re: Ever notice how LJ is like Democracy? It sucks, but everything else is worse.

[kat-lair.livejournal.com]

Patrick tilts his head enquiringly. “You feel you need permission?”

“Yes.” Gerard doesn’t even need to think about it. “Pete’s yours. I won’t touch him unless you say I can.”

Both Patrick and Pete inhale sharply, in weird echo of their off-key harmony, and Gerard realises he just voiced something neither of them has yet admitted out loud. Beneath his hands he can feel Pete starting to shake, fine tremors running up and down his thighs.

That seems to knock Patrick out of his surprise. “Okay, okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Pete, leaving Gerard trapped in the maze of their legs. “We’re good here Pete. We’re good. I got you. You’re mine.”

Patrick drops one of his hands back down, cupping the back Gerard’s neck. “You too, there’s a place for you here if you want it. You did well, Gerard.”

Gerard feels a little light-headed. It’s not a casual offer and he can’t think past the haze of swirling emotions. Instead he presses his mouth over the hard ridge of Pete’s erection, feeling the shape of it under the denim. “Please,” he whispers, unable to focus on anything properly, eyes roaming hungrily over the two men standing on either side of him.

Pete is rubbing his face against the crook of Patrick’s shoulder, whining like a wounded animal. “Please,” he says too. “Please Patrick, let him.”

[crash-it-yo.livejournal.com]

*gnurnk*

what an awkwardly hot situatiion.