(no subject)
Title: London
Fandom: Bandom - Fall Out Boy/My Chemical Romance
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Pete/Patrick/Mikey and variations thereof
Summary: PWP, for _princess_han_ and onneonlights, and anyone else that was at the Wembley gig, as this is set just afterwards.
---
Pete's on Patrick the second they get into the hotel room, lips pressed together hard and hands flying up to unbutton his shirt. "Best fuckin' show ever, 'Trick."
"Pete," Patrick gasps. "Wait."
Pete steps back. "What, why?"
"Because I said so, okay? I have -- I have something planned for you."
"Something? Can't I at least be a someone?"
Pete can't see the person that just spoke, but he doesn't need to - he'd know that voice anywhere. "Mikey."
"Hi, Pete."
Pete's eyebrows shoot up when he sees him, and Mikey laughs from where he's laid on the bed. Patrick grabs at Pete's ass through his jeans, and Pete turns back to him, quirking an eyebrow.
"You got me a naked Mikeyway? Oh, I love you."
---
After a hurried conversation about what they were going to do --
("Sure you want to do this, Pete?"
"Fuck, Mikeyway. You and Patrick? I'm always gonna say yes to that."
"Okay, good."
"I have one rule though."
"Shoot."
"No-one touches Patrick but me. He's mine."
"Fuck, okay.")
-- Patrick finds himself pressed naked against the window of the hotel room, staring out over Wembley. People are still leaving the venue, and Pete is sliding a second slick finger into him.
"So hot like this, 'Trick. So hot, and so mine, no matter who's watching."
They're on the third floor, and it's dark, so no-one can see. Pete wants to show Patrick off anyway.
Patrick pushes back onto Pete's fingers, whining high in the back of his throat. Mikey swears from the bed closest to them, and Patrick turns his head to find Mikey stroking a long finger across his own thigh and shivering, holding himself back for as long as possible.
"Mikey likes it, 'Trick. Likes seeing you all spread out like this. Right?"
"Fuck yes," is Mikey's reply, the second word giving way to a moan ripping from this throat as he touches himself for the first time.
Pete pushes a third finger into Patrick, and Patrick arches, pressing up against the window. Mikey moans again, and Pete grins. He licks Patrick's shoulder then turns to say, “Mikey, you'd better not come until I tell you to."
Mikey groans, saying 'are you fucking kidding me' and 'how is that even possible' with one noise.
Patrick tenses when Pete bends his fingers, the tips brushing against that spot. "Pete, fuck, seriously. Fuck me."
"Patience, Patrick."
"Now," Patrick replies, and he's practically growling.
Mikey lets go of his cock, because if Patrick's going to keep making noises like that, he really isn't going to last long. He fists his hands in the sheets, so hard that he can feel his fingernails pressing into his palm through them.
He looks back over and finds Pete mouthing against Patrick's shoulder. He's slicking up his cock behind Patrick, and Mikey can tell that he's trying especially hard not to push his hips forwards into his hand.
Pete pulls his fingers out and starts pushing his cock in. Patrick's head falls back, resting on Pete's shoulder and exposing his throat to most of London. Pete thinks it might be the hottest thing that's ever happened to him, and Mikey moans his agreement behind him.
He stills for a minute once his hips are pressed against Patrick's ass, only moving once Patrick starts pushing back against him, grinding down on Pete's cock.
Mikey is pushing his hips up, trying to find friction and only getting air. His hands are still tangled in the sheets, and Patrick can see his reflection moving in the window.
Patrick closes his eyes when Pete starts moving, a low groan grumbling at the back of his throat. "Fuck, Pete."
"Good?"
"So fucking good."
Pete thrusts harder, and leans in to nip at Patrick's shoulder at the same time. Mikey whines from the bed behind them; he can see the muscles in Pete's back moving with each thrust, and it's better than any porn he's ever seen.
Pete's taking it slow, trying to give Mikey a show, but then Patrick puts his palms flat on the window, pushes back to meet his thrusts and clenches, and Pete's gone. He pounds into Patrick, angling his hips to hit his prostate with almost every thrust.
Patrick moans 'fuck fuck fuck' under his breath, and his body starts to go crazy. The coldness of the window against his front is a sharp contrast to the heat of Pete across his back, and Patrick doesn't think anything could ever feel as good as this.
Then. Then Pete trails a hand down his chest, across his stomach and onto his cock and oh, fuck.
Patrick's hips thrust forwards, and he can't decide whether he should be pushing forwards into Pete's hand or back onto Pete's cock but Pete decides for him when he thrusts even harder, his hand picking up the same rhythm and then Patrick's coming hard against the window.
Pete feels every moment of Patrick's orgasm. Feels him tremble and tense and tighten around him, and it pushes him over the edge, shuddering and coming inside Patrick. His fingers dig into Patrick's hips and he knows he's going to leave marks, but he doesn't care.
Patrick turns around as soon as Pete pulls out, grabbing him for a kiss. It's nothing like the one they shared when they got into the hotel room - it's tender, loving, careful.
"Uh, guys?" Mikey says, voice high and shaky. "Sorry to interrupt the kissing and all, but that was the hottest thing I've ever seen and I think I might die if I don't come soon."
Pete turns to the bed, a predatory grin crossing his face. "Oh, Mikeyway. What're we going to do with you?"
"Anything, please."
"Well, I suppose you do deserve something. After all, you didn't come."
Pete climbs onto the bed, knees either side of Mikey's, and drops down, biting and licking at Mikey's hip. Mikey tangles a hand into Pete's hair and pushes him gently, urging him towards his cock. Pete grins up at him, then turns and whispers something to Patrick, before taking the head of Mikey's cock into his mouth and sucking gently.
Mikey's hips buck, and Pete holds him down. Patrick kneels down next to the bed, leaning in to whisper in Mikey's ear.
"I'm so glad we planned this. Look at him. Look how much he's enjoying himself. Are you going to come for us, Mikey?"
Mikey shakes his head. "Not until he says so." His hips twitch again though, and Patrick smiles.
"Well, he hasn't said anything about that yet, but he did tell me I could do this."
Patrick kisses him, and Mikey arches off the bed into Pete's mouth. Patrick's lips part, and he bites on Mikey's bottom lip, then slides his tongue into Mikey's mouth, licking at the roof for a few moments.
Mikey moans into the kiss. His thigh muscles clench and he's practically shaking with the effort it's taking to not come.
Pete pulls away from Mikey's cock, then leans down, licks the head one final time, and moves back altogether, saying, "Come for me, Mikeyway."
Mikey arches up again, coming over his stomach with no-one touching his cock. He keens into Patrick's mouth, legs shaking from the pressure of holding himself up.
"Fuck," he says, when Patrick pulls away. Then, because he can't think of anything else, he says, "Fuck," again.
"That's the word I'd use," Patrick says, breath coming in harsh pants from the kiss. They both look up at Pete and see him smiling wide at them.
"Guys, London is the fucking best."
Fandom: Bandom - Fall Out Boy/My Chemical Romance
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Pete/Patrick/Mikey and variations thereof
Summary: PWP, for _princess_han_ and onneonlights, and anyone else that was at the Wembley gig, as this is set just afterwards.
---
Pete's on Patrick the second they get into the hotel room, lips pressed together hard and hands flying up to unbutton his shirt. "Best fuckin' show ever, 'Trick."
"Pete," Patrick gasps. "Wait."
Pete steps back. "What, why?"
"Because I said so, okay? I have -- I have something planned for you."
"Something? Can't I at least be a someone?"
Pete can't see the person that just spoke, but he doesn't need to - he'd know that voice anywhere. "Mikey."
"Hi, Pete."
Pete's eyebrows shoot up when he sees him, and Mikey laughs from where he's laid on the bed. Patrick grabs at Pete's ass through his jeans, and Pete turns back to him, quirking an eyebrow.
"You got me a naked Mikeyway? Oh, I love you."
---
After a hurried conversation about what they were going to do --
("Sure you want to do this, Pete?"
"Fuck, Mikeyway. You and Patrick? I'm always gonna say yes to that."
"Okay, good."
"I have one rule though."
"Shoot."
"No-one touches Patrick but me. He's mine."
"Fuck, okay.")
-- Patrick finds himself pressed naked against the window of the hotel room, staring out over Wembley. People are still leaving the venue, and Pete is sliding a second slick finger into him.
"So hot like this, 'Trick. So hot, and so mine, no matter who's watching."
They're on the third floor, and it's dark, so no-one can see. Pete wants to show Patrick off anyway.
Patrick pushes back onto Pete's fingers, whining high in the back of his throat. Mikey swears from the bed closest to them, and Patrick turns his head to find Mikey stroking a long finger across his own thigh and shivering, holding himself back for as long as possible.
"Mikey likes it, 'Trick. Likes seeing you all spread out like this. Right?"
"Fuck yes," is Mikey's reply, the second word giving way to a moan ripping from this throat as he touches himself for the first time.
Pete pushes a third finger into Patrick, and Patrick arches, pressing up against the window. Mikey moans again, and Pete grins. He licks Patrick's shoulder then turns to say, “Mikey, you'd better not come until I tell you to."
Mikey groans, saying 'are you fucking kidding me' and 'how is that even possible' with one noise.
Patrick tenses when Pete bends his fingers, the tips brushing against that spot. "Pete, fuck, seriously. Fuck me."
"Patience, Patrick."
"Now," Patrick replies, and he's practically growling.
Mikey lets go of his cock, because if Patrick's going to keep making noises like that, he really isn't going to last long. He fists his hands in the sheets, so hard that he can feel his fingernails pressing into his palm through them.
He looks back over and finds Pete mouthing against Patrick's shoulder. He's slicking up his cock behind Patrick, and Mikey can tell that he's trying especially hard not to push his hips forwards into his hand.
Pete pulls his fingers out and starts pushing his cock in. Patrick's head falls back, resting on Pete's shoulder and exposing his throat to most of London. Pete thinks it might be the hottest thing that's ever happened to him, and Mikey moans his agreement behind him.
He stills for a minute once his hips are pressed against Patrick's ass, only moving once Patrick starts pushing back against him, grinding down on Pete's cock.
Mikey is pushing his hips up, trying to find friction and only getting air. His hands are still tangled in the sheets, and Patrick can see his reflection moving in the window.
Patrick closes his eyes when Pete starts moving, a low groan grumbling at the back of his throat. "Fuck, Pete."
"Good?"
"So fucking good."
Pete thrusts harder, and leans in to nip at Patrick's shoulder at the same time. Mikey whines from the bed behind them; he can see the muscles in Pete's back moving with each thrust, and it's better than any porn he's ever seen.
Pete's taking it slow, trying to give Mikey a show, but then Patrick puts his palms flat on the window, pushes back to meet his thrusts and clenches, and Pete's gone. He pounds into Patrick, angling his hips to hit his prostate with almost every thrust.
Patrick moans 'fuck fuck fuck' under his breath, and his body starts to go crazy. The coldness of the window against his front is a sharp contrast to the heat of Pete across his back, and Patrick doesn't think anything could ever feel as good as this.
Then. Then Pete trails a hand down his chest, across his stomach and onto his cock and oh, fuck.
Patrick's hips thrust forwards, and he can't decide whether he should be pushing forwards into Pete's hand or back onto Pete's cock but Pete decides for him when he thrusts even harder, his hand picking up the same rhythm and then Patrick's coming hard against the window.
Pete feels every moment of Patrick's orgasm. Feels him tremble and tense and tighten around him, and it pushes him over the edge, shuddering and coming inside Patrick. His fingers dig into Patrick's hips and he knows he's going to leave marks, but he doesn't care.
Patrick turns around as soon as Pete pulls out, grabbing him for a kiss. It's nothing like the one they shared when they got into the hotel room - it's tender, loving, careful.
"Uh, guys?" Mikey says, voice high and shaky. "Sorry to interrupt the kissing and all, but that was the hottest thing I've ever seen and I think I might die if I don't come soon."
Pete turns to the bed, a predatory grin crossing his face. "Oh, Mikeyway. What're we going to do with you?"
"Anything, please."
"Well, I suppose you do deserve something. After all, you didn't come."
Pete climbs onto the bed, knees either side of Mikey's, and drops down, biting and licking at Mikey's hip. Mikey tangles a hand into Pete's hair and pushes him gently, urging him towards his cock. Pete grins up at him, then turns and whispers something to Patrick, before taking the head of Mikey's cock into his mouth and sucking gently.
Mikey's hips buck, and Pete holds him down. Patrick kneels down next to the bed, leaning in to whisper in Mikey's ear.
"I'm so glad we planned this. Look at him. Look how much he's enjoying himself. Are you going to come for us, Mikey?"
Mikey shakes his head. "Not until he says so." His hips twitch again though, and Patrick smiles.
"Well, he hasn't said anything about that yet, but he did tell me I could do this."
Patrick kisses him, and Mikey arches off the bed into Pete's mouth. Patrick's lips part, and he bites on Mikey's bottom lip, then slides his tongue into Mikey's mouth, licking at the roof for a few moments.
Mikey moans into the kiss. His thigh muscles clench and he's practically shaking with the effort it's taking to not come.
Pete pulls away from Mikey's cock, then leans down, licks the head one final time, and moves back altogether, saying, "Come for me, Mikeyway."
Mikey arches up again, coming over his stomach with no-one touching his cock. He keens into Patrick's mouth, legs shaking from the pressure of holding himself up.
"Fuck," he says, when Patrick pulls away. Then, because he can't think of anything else, he says, "Fuck," again.
"That's the word I'd use," Patrick says, breath coming in harsh pants from the kiss. They both look up at Pete and see him smiling wide at them.
"Guys, London is the fucking best."