fic: if wishes were school girl uniforms, patrick would be wearing one
Title: If Wishes Were School Girl Uniforms, Patrick Would Be Wearing One
Author: cardel
Rating: Very NC-17
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Summary: While recording their new album Patrick gets everyone on his wish list of artists. Well, Pete has a list of his own and the only person in it is Patrick. Soooo A/U
Word Count: 3047
Disclaimer: So not mine and this is just a work of fiction
Warning: Crossdressing (idk is that warning material?)
A/N: Written for kittygrenade based on our little Folie a Deux moment as well as on an interview where Patrick said, regarding Folie a Deux, something along the lines of “I had a wish list and I got everyone in it” this is not a direct quote and if anyone has links to this please share.
xposted to bandslashmania and patrickxpeter
“Patrick,” Pete says in a whispered breath.
“So I found your wish list,” Patrick says from his place on top of the kitchen table.
His words snap Pete to attention. His wish list, fuck. His wish list consists of nothing but his biggest fantasies, in vivid detail, describing how much he would love to see Patrick in various outfits. But his wish list has always been secret because Pete has always been sure that if Patrick knew about it, he would cut him off for a week.
Pete has accepted this as fact. Pete has, in fact, resigned himself to having a totally vanilla sex life with Patrick, and doesn’t care much because. Patrick. Apparently, though, he has been wrong, so, so wrong.
“Patrick,” he says again because, he feels like he has forgotten how to say anything. And his mouth’s muscle memory only seems to remember how to move his lips around to form the word Patrick, this doesn’t surprise him.
Patrick is ignoring Pete’s ability to say one word and continues speaking. “You got me everyone on my wish list. I figured it’s only fair that you get something from your wish list.”
This explains what Patrick is wearing. And Pete cannot believe that, out of all the options on his wish list, Patrick chose the one he wants the most; the school girl uniform. Patrick looks amazing.
Pete lets his eyes rake over Patrick’s body. He starts at the bottom from the red, mary-jane’s, up to the, mid thigh, stockings which are a dark navy blue, the skin above standing in stark contrast to the dark color. Pete wants to bite the skin there.
There is a good five inches of exposed skin where the stockings end and the skirt, a red plaid, begins, this makes Pete think about how short the skirt must be. Pete is sure if Patrick were standing it would barely cover anything and if Patrick were to bend over -- Fuck, Pete wants to see that.
That’s when he decides he’s too far away from Patrick. He walks into the room and stops in front of Patrick, not touching, yet. He stares some more drinking in the sight before him. Patrick patiently lets him.
The shirt isn’t that remarkable; white button down. Patrick has, however, undone the top three buttons and pushed the shirt opened. Pete can see his collar bone, he wants to lick. His gaze shifts up to Patrick’s gorgeous face and his breath catches a little. Patrick is wearing makeup.
According to Patrick, he can’t pull off eyeliner, but Pete knows he is wrong, so wrong. The eyeliner around his eyes is done carefully and with enough of a smudge to turn Patrick’s, already captivating, eyes into smoky, hypnotic ones.
Pete’s eyes moves to Patrick’s mouth. Patrick isn’t wearing lipstick which is good. School girls don’t wear lipstick; it smears and leaves evidence, good slutty school girls would know that and apparently so does Patrick. Patrick is wearing lip gloss, with a light hint of pink pigment, making Patrick’s natural pout more pronounced. Plus it’s Patrick’s mouth so Pete just stares until he hears Patrick talk.
“So you like it?” Patrick asks.
“Are you serious?” Pete says, “I love it.”
To prove his point he steps closer to Patrick who lets his legs fall open to accommodate Pete between them. Patrick tilts his head up; Pete kisses him tasting cherry before he pushes his tongue inside twisting around Patrick’s trying to taste every part of his mouth.
Pete’s hands go to the small of Patrick’s back; he pulls him closer pressing Patrick right up against him.
“Patrick bedroom,” Pete says between kisses.
‘No. Here.” Patrick counters.
Pete hesitates for a second, because he has issues about having sex on surfaces where they eat. Patrick chooses that moment to grind against him.
Against the erection in his jeans, that has been there, trapped and straining since he first laid eyes on Patrick atop the kitchen table in a school girl uniform. And oh my god, he has Patrick on the table in a school girl uniform, his biggest fantasy ever and he’s about to protest? What is wrong with him?
Patrick rolls his hips again and Pete thinks, screw it; he’ll buy another table. In fact he’ll find a way to have this one framed and hang it in their bedroom to commemorate this event.
“Yeah, here’s good,” he finally agrees. He takes a small step back and smiles. “You look so fucking hot.”
In response, Patrick pulls him in for another kiss, which Pete thinks may also be a ploy to hide the growing blush on his face. Pete lets it go.
Pete kisses Patrick, his hands undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt, once he’s done, he kisses Patrick’s jaw down to his neck, trails kisses to his right collar bone and then across to his left one.
Pete pushes the shirt open; he bends down and takes one of Patrick’s pink nipple into his mouth. Patrick’s response is immediate; his hands fly up to Pete’s head, his fingers thread into his hair, and his whole body presses forward. Pete smiles around the nipple. He’s still amazed by how responsive Patrick is. It’s like his skin is hypersensitive to Pete’s touch.
He moves to the other nipple and he feels Patrick’s chest start to rise faster with every breath.
Pulling back he runs his hands from the side of Patrick’s abdomen up over his sensitive nipples. He smirks as Patrick shudders and bites his lips muffling a moan. Pete leans forward and pulls the lip between his own teeth.
“Don’t,” he mumbles, kissing Patrick.
“I want to hear everything.” He pulls back and watches Patrick nod.
His hands continue up and over Patrick’s shoulders taking the shirt with him as he goes down Patrick’s arms, until it pools around Patrick’s wrist. Patrick takes one arm out and then the other and carelessly tosses the shirt on the floor. Pete does the same tossing his shirt over his shoulder.
Patrick scoots closer to the edge and leans forward to bite Pete’s collar bone, his neck, he takes Pete’s earlobe between his lips, pulls back, licks behind his ear. These little, kitten -like, licks that make Pete shiver. He pulls Patrick against him again.
Patrick’s erection is pressing against his thigh; he looks down and sees the little skirt is tenting. Pete wants to see if his theory about how short the skirt is, is true.
“Patrick stand.”
With one last, tiny, kiss to Pete’s neck Patrick hops down. Pete doesn’t move back to give him room, which results in being presses chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Patrick raises a brown in question. Pete smiles in return.
When he takes a step back he can see that the skirt is indeed that short. He touches the hem of the too short skirt and wonders what that fells like for Patrick. Having the slightly rough material brush up against his thighs.
“Pete,” Patrick says almost a question.
Pete makes a little turn motion with his hand, Patrick does. He gets distracted by the expanse of Patrick’s back and leans down to lick a long stripe, from the small of Patrick’s back to a spot between his shoulder blades.
This makes Patrick’s back curve in, which makes his ass push back. Reminding Pete that, oh yeah, he has a theory to prove. He looks down and sees that he was right about this too; he can see the little round mound where Patrick’s thighs meet his butt cheeks. Wait, he can see Patrick’s ass.
Placing a hand on Patrick’s back he pushes, Patrick takes the hint and bends over the table his arms stretched out before him. The motion makes the skirt ride up even more, Pete swallows. He grabs the hem of the skirt and with one motion flips it over Patrick’s back and god Patrick isn’t wearing anything underneath.
“Going commando?” His voice is rough, his mouth so dry he’s surprised the words don’t get stuck in his throat.
“Short notice. I’ll do better next time,” Patrick promises.
Pete just groans his brain is barely working enough to convince him that this time is real let alone be able to understand the concept of a next time; it makes him feel light headed.
Instead he concentrates on now. Right now he wants to touch Patrick and hear how much he likes it.
He drops down to his knees, with one hand to Patrick’s back motioning him to bend lower. Patrick does dropping down to his forearms. Pete places a kiss to either side of Patrick’s butt cheeks. He feels Patrick tense, this isn’t one of Patrick’s favorite things but Pete knows when Patrick gets into it he’ll just make all these desperate, needy, sounds.
Pete spreads Patrick’s cheeks and licks his lips before leaning forward and licking one long firm stroke from the skin behind Patrick’s balls up and over his hole. Patrick takes in a sharp breath.
“Pete.” It’s so broken and needy that Pete does it again and again, each time lingering a little more around Patrick’s entrance, until Patrick gets impatient and pushes his hips back.
“Come on” he says.
Pete smirks adjust his hold spreading Patrick open a little more and pushes the tip of his tongue right up against Patrick and pushes in. Patrick stills above him. Pete repeats the motion again going in further each time until he can hear Patrick panting and his legs shake with the effort to not push back into Pete’s face.
With one last lick Pete pulls back, takes his index finger into his mouth, coats it with saliva before pushing it into Patrick. He watches amazed as his finger disappears into Patrick, from the tip of his finger to the second knuckle until it’s all the way in.
Slowly he pulls his finger half way out and then pushes in again until there is no resistance and Patrick’s hole, willingly, swallows his finger. Patrick is squirming above him pushing his hips back.
“Fuck, Patrick I wish you could see this,” Pete says still fucking Patrick with his finger.
“Lube,” Patrick groans out. And yeah, lube’s a good idea because saliva dries out too fast.
Pete stands up. He runs his hands up from Patrick’s hips to his back where he takes the skirt and flips it down again. He grabs the zipper and pulls it down. Patrick closes his wide stance and the skirt falls slowly, over his hips and slides down to pool at this feet. Pete knows he’s going to jerk off to that for long time.
Patrick steps out the skirt and the shoes, but when his hands go to the stockings Pete’s hands are right there, stopping him.
“Leave them,” Pete whispers low in Patrick’s ear. Patrick leans back against him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Patrick turns and sits back on the table spreading his legs for Pete, who quickly steps between them. With his left hand he cups Patrick’s face and kisses him. His right hand goes to Patrick’s cock; already leaking precome, and swipes his thumb over the head. Patrick moans, pulls back and scoots further up the table, Pete climbs up after him.
Patrick settles down, spreading his legs again, Pete crawls up to him and bends down to kiss Patrick's thighs. He takes Patrick’s cock in one hand and without warning takes the head in his mouth for one quick, hard suck.
The scream Patrick lets out is very satisfactory. Patrick is already bucking up wanting more but Pete’s mouth is already gone.
“God, you’re beautiful like this,” Pete whispers hoarsely.
“Fucking, cocktease,” Patrick accuses him.
“No, cocktease, is that time you made me watch you finger yourself for one hour and threatened no sex if I touched you before you said it was okay.”
Patrick gets a glazed look over his eyes. “Yeah but wasn’t it great when you finally got to fuck me?”
That actually, had been pretty amazing, the anticipation had nearly killed him but when he was finally pushing into Patrick, who was so stretched by that point, there was no resistance and Pete got to fuck him into next week. But he’s not going to let Patrick know that right this second.
“The point is, you’re the cocktease. I’m too impatient, all about instant gratification. I already can’t wait,” Pete confesses.
“Then why are you?” Patrick asks. He grabs a bottle of lube, that must have been there the whole time but who would look at a bottle of lube when they can watch Patrick. Pete accepts the bottle, coats his fingers and leaves the bottle within reach. He spread Patrick’s legs a little more and works a finger in.
It’s quick; Patrick is already a little stretched from the rimming and fingering earlier. Pete adds another finger and curls them searching for Patrick’s sweet spot. He knows he found it when he feels Patrick tighten around his fingers and his eyes open wide before closing and from his mouth comes a melodic moan of pleasure.
By the time he works a third finger in Patrick is already working to make a rhythm, pushing down onto Pete’s fingers. Patrick lifts his head up a little and frowns in confusion.
“Why are you still wearing pants?” He asks.
That is a really good question. Pete pulls his fingers out and sits back but he doesn’t want to bother with taking his pants off so he just pushes them down, boxers and all, around his thighs. He reaches for the lube squirts some on his hand and spreads it over his cock, it feels really good but not as good as Patrick will.
He guides the head of his cock into Patrick and pushes in. Patrick’s breath hitches and he holds still.
Pete wipes the extra lube on his pants, leans down placing one hand on each side of Patrick’s head, right above his shoulders, caging him in with his body. Patrick’s lips stretch into a smile, Pete leans down to kiss him as he pushes the rest of the way in with one slow continuous motion.
Patrick’s moans are swallowed into Pete’s mouth. Pete only pulls back when he’s all the way in. He sees that Patrick has his eyes closed his breath is coming in slowly as he tries to relax his body.
There’s nothing more that Pete wants then to fuck Patrick through the table but he waits patiently bending down to kiss Patrick again.
“Okay,” Patrick says, finally.
Pete doesn’t wait any more he starts thrusting hard into Patrick, who’s mouth falls open and he starts making all these amazing sounds that just egg Pete on, to thrust in harder and faster.
When Patrick opens his eyes they lock with Pete’s. Pete falters for one seconds as those blown, lust filled, eyes stare back at him. Patrick brings one hand up and holds it in front of Pete’s face, his lips never asking but his eyes are begging.
Lucky for him Pete knows exactly what he wants. He licks Patrick’s palm, taking each finger into his mouth sucking them in and coating them with saliva. Patrick moans and bites his lips. With his hand sufficiently slick he reaches down and starts to stroke himself.
Pete looks down, he is torn between wanting to sit back and watch his cock disappear into Patrick while Patrick jerks himself off or staying where he is and watching Patrick’s face.
The moan that comes out of Patrick when Pete hits his prostate, Pete assumes by the clenching around his cock, makes that decision for him. He stays where he is and watches Patrick. Patrick watches back.
He lowers himself a little bit so he can feel Patrick’s knuckles on his abdomen as he jerks off. And he’s now thrusting so hard he’s sure there’ll be bruises on Patrick’s shoulders where they’re bumping into Pete’s lower forearms.
Pete thinks about that, about Patrick’s shoulders being tender and Patrick shivering with pleasure at the memory of why they’re tender, when Pete reminds him by placing a hand there.
That image, along with Patrick’s moans and the tight heat surrounding him, make him come, hard inside of Patrick.
Fuck and Patrick are the only words he manages to choke out as his entire body shakes and he slams one last time into Patrick. His arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself up so he closes his eyes and bends his head down his forehead touching Patrick’s chin and he lets his orgasm wash over him.
Vaguely he feels Patrick still beneath him and warm liquid coating his stomach. And somewhere far off, he hears something that may be his name fall from Patrick’s lips but he can hardly hear anything but the fast pounding of his heart in his ears.
It’s ten minutes later when they’re able to move that they start walking to their bedroom. However, half way there, the living room to be precise, Pete decides the bedroom is too far, so he rolls over the back of the couch taking Patrick with him to land on the other side.
Patrick is too tired to protest and just lets Pete manhandle him. He’s lying half on top of Pete, his head on Pete’s chest, drifting off when he feels Pete’s hand trail down his back and to his ass. He feels Pete use one hand to spread him open, one finger teases his entrance and Patrick knows he’s rubbing the come that’s still there. Pete is such a possessive bastard; lucky for him Patrick’s too tired to protest.
That is until he feels that finger try to push in.
“Pete,” Patrick mumbles but the warning is clear in his tone.
Pete sighs and says, “Fine.” Like a scolded toddler.
“Hey Patrick.” This time his voice is serious, so Patrick makes the effort to lift his head from Pete’s chest.
“What is it?” Patrick asks.
“We’re buying a new table,” Pete says his face dead serious. There’s a tiny pause and then Patrick’s throwing his head back, laughing the sound rich and loud making Pete feel warm inside and a smile to appear on his lips.
Author: cardel
Rating: Very NC-17
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Summary: While recording their new album Patrick gets everyone on his wish list of artists. Well, Pete has a list of his own and the only person in it is Patrick. Soooo A/U
Word Count: 3047
Disclaimer: So not mine and this is just a work of fiction
Warning: Crossdressing (idk is that warning material?)
A/N: Written for kittygrenade based on our little Folie a Deux moment as well as on an interview where Patrick said, regarding Folie a Deux, something along the lines of “I had a wish list and I got everyone in it” this is not a direct quote and if anyone has links to this please share.
xposted to bandslashmania and patrickxpeter
“Patrick,” Pete says in a whispered breath.
“So I found your wish list,” Patrick says from his place on top of the kitchen table.
His words snap Pete to attention. His wish list, fuck. His wish list consists of nothing but his biggest fantasies, in vivid detail, describing how much he would love to see Patrick in various outfits. But his wish list has always been secret because Pete has always been sure that if Patrick knew about it, he would cut him off for a week.
Pete has accepted this as fact. Pete has, in fact, resigned himself to having a totally vanilla sex life with Patrick, and doesn’t care much because. Patrick. Apparently, though, he has been wrong, so, so wrong.
“Patrick,” he says again because, he feels like he has forgotten how to say anything. And his mouth’s muscle memory only seems to remember how to move his lips around to form the word Patrick, this doesn’t surprise him.
Patrick is ignoring Pete’s ability to say one word and continues speaking. “You got me everyone on my wish list. I figured it’s only fair that you get something from your wish list.”
This explains what Patrick is wearing. And Pete cannot believe that, out of all the options on his wish list, Patrick chose the one he wants the most; the school girl uniform. Patrick looks amazing.
Pete lets his eyes rake over Patrick’s body. He starts at the bottom from the red, mary-jane’s, up to the, mid thigh, stockings which are a dark navy blue, the skin above standing in stark contrast to the dark color. Pete wants to bite the skin there.
There is a good five inches of exposed skin where the stockings end and the skirt, a red plaid, begins, this makes Pete think about how short the skirt must be. Pete is sure if Patrick were standing it would barely cover anything and if Patrick were to bend over -- Fuck, Pete wants to see that.
That’s when he decides he’s too far away from Patrick. He walks into the room and stops in front of Patrick, not touching, yet. He stares some more drinking in the sight before him. Patrick patiently lets him.
The shirt isn’t that remarkable; white button down. Patrick has, however, undone the top three buttons and pushed the shirt opened. Pete can see his collar bone, he wants to lick. His gaze shifts up to Patrick’s gorgeous face and his breath catches a little. Patrick is wearing makeup.
According to Patrick, he can’t pull off eyeliner, but Pete knows he is wrong, so wrong. The eyeliner around his eyes is done carefully and with enough of a smudge to turn Patrick’s, already captivating, eyes into smoky, hypnotic ones.
Pete’s eyes moves to Patrick’s mouth. Patrick isn’t wearing lipstick which is good. School girls don’t wear lipstick; it smears and leaves evidence, good slutty school girls would know that and apparently so does Patrick. Patrick is wearing lip gloss, with a light hint of pink pigment, making Patrick’s natural pout more pronounced. Plus it’s Patrick’s mouth so Pete just stares until he hears Patrick talk.
“So you like it?” Patrick asks.
“Are you serious?” Pete says, “I love it.”
To prove his point he steps closer to Patrick who lets his legs fall open to accommodate Pete between them. Patrick tilts his head up; Pete kisses him tasting cherry before he pushes his tongue inside twisting around Patrick’s trying to taste every part of his mouth.
Pete’s hands go to the small of Patrick’s back; he pulls him closer pressing Patrick right up against him.
“Patrick bedroom,” Pete says between kisses.
‘No. Here.” Patrick counters.
Pete hesitates for a second, because he has issues about having sex on surfaces where they eat. Patrick chooses that moment to grind against him.
Against the erection in his jeans, that has been there, trapped and straining since he first laid eyes on Patrick atop the kitchen table in a school girl uniform. And oh my god, he has Patrick on the table in a school girl uniform, his biggest fantasy ever and he’s about to protest? What is wrong with him?
Patrick rolls his hips again and Pete thinks, screw it; he’ll buy another table. In fact he’ll find a way to have this one framed and hang it in their bedroom to commemorate this event.
“Yeah, here’s good,” he finally agrees. He takes a small step back and smiles. “You look so fucking hot.”
In response, Patrick pulls him in for another kiss, which Pete thinks may also be a ploy to hide the growing blush on his face. Pete lets it go.
Pete kisses Patrick, his hands undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt, once he’s done, he kisses Patrick’s jaw down to his neck, trails kisses to his right collar bone and then across to his left one.
Pete pushes the shirt open; he bends down and takes one of Patrick’s pink nipple into his mouth. Patrick’s response is immediate; his hands fly up to Pete’s head, his fingers thread into his hair, and his whole body presses forward. Pete smiles around the nipple. He’s still amazed by how responsive Patrick is. It’s like his skin is hypersensitive to Pete’s touch.
He moves to the other nipple and he feels Patrick’s chest start to rise faster with every breath.
Pulling back he runs his hands from the side of Patrick’s abdomen up over his sensitive nipples. He smirks as Patrick shudders and bites his lips muffling a moan. Pete leans forward and pulls the lip between his own teeth.
“Don’t,” he mumbles, kissing Patrick.
“I want to hear everything.” He pulls back and watches Patrick nod.
His hands continue up and over Patrick’s shoulders taking the shirt with him as he goes down Patrick’s arms, until it pools around Patrick’s wrist. Patrick takes one arm out and then the other and carelessly tosses the shirt on the floor. Pete does the same tossing his shirt over his shoulder.
Patrick scoots closer to the edge and leans forward to bite Pete’s collar bone, his neck, he takes Pete’s earlobe between his lips, pulls back, licks behind his ear. These little, kitten -like, licks that make Pete shiver. He pulls Patrick against him again.
Patrick’s erection is pressing against his thigh; he looks down and sees the little skirt is tenting. Pete wants to see if his theory about how short the skirt is, is true.
“Patrick stand.”
With one last, tiny, kiss to Pete’s neck Patrick hops down. Pete doesn’t move back to give him room, which results in being presses chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Patrick raises a brown in question. Pete smiles in return.
When he takes a step back he can see that the skirt is indeed that short. He touches the hem of the too short skirt and wonders what that fells like for Patrick. Having the slightly rough material brush up against his thighs.
“Pete,” Patrick says almost a question.
Pete makes a little turn motion with his hand, Patrick does. He gets distracted by the expanse of Patrick’s back and leans down to lick a long stripe, from the small of Patrick’s back to a spot between his shoulder blades.
This makes Patrick’s back curve in, which makes his ass push back. Reminding Pete that, oh yeah, he has a theory to prove. He looks down and sees that he was right about this too; he can see the little round mound where Patrick’s thighs meet his butt cheeks. Wait, he can see Patrick’s ass.
Placing a hand on Patrick’s back he pushes, Patrick takes the hint and bends over the table his arms stretched out before him. The motion makes the skirt ride up even more, Pete swallows. He grabs the hem of the skirt and with one motion flips it over Patrick’s back and god Patrick isn’t wearing anything underneath.
“Going commando?” His voice is rough, his mouth so dry he’s surprised the words don’t get stuck in his throat.
“Short notice. I’ll do better next time,” Patrick promises.
Pete just groans his brain is barely working enough to convince him that this time is real let alone be able to understand the concept of a next time; it makes him feel light headed.
Instead he concentrates on now. Right now he wants to touch Patrick and hear how much he likes it.
He drops down to his knees, with one hand to Patrick’s back motioning him to bend lower. Patrick does dropping down to his forearms. Pete places a kiss to either side of Patrick’s butt cheeks. He feels Patrick tense, this isn’t one of Patrick’s favorite things but Pete knows when Patrick gets into it he’ll just make all these desperate, needy, sounds.
Pete spreads Patrick’s cheeks and licks his lips before leaning forward and licking one long firm stroke from the skin behind Patrick’s balls up and over his hole. Patrick takes in a sharp breath.
“Pete.” It’s so broken and needy that Pete does it again and again, each time lingering a little more around Patrick’s entrance, until Patrick gets impatient and pushes his hips back.
“Come on” he says.
Pete smirks adjust his hold spreading Patrick open a little more and pushes the tip of his tongue right up against Patrick and pushes in. Patrick stills above him. Pete repeats the motion again going in further each time until he can hear Patrick panting and his legs shake with the effort to not push back into Pete’s face.
With one last lick Pete pulls back, takes his index finger into his mouth, coats it with saliva before pushing it into Patrick. He watches amazed as his finger disappears into Patrick, from the tip of his finger to the second knuckle until it’s all the way in.
Slowly he pulls his finger half way out and then pushes in again until there is no resistance and Patrick’s hole, willingly, swallows his finger. Patrick is squirming above him pushing his hips back.
“Fuck, Patrick I wish you could see this,” Pete says still fucking Patrick with his finger.
“Lube,” Patrick groans out. And yeah, lube’s a good idea because saliva dries out too fast.
Pete stands up. He runs his hands up from Patrick’s hips to his back where he takes the skirt and flips it down again. He grabs the zipper and pulls it down. Patrick closes his wide stance and the skirt falls slowly, over his hips and slides down to pool at this feet. Pete knows he’s going to jerk off to that for long time.
Patrick steps out the skirt and the shoes, but when his hands go to the stockings Pete’s hands are right there, stopping him.
“Leave them,” Pete whispers low in Patrick’s ear. Patrick leans back against him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Patrick turns and sits back on the table spreading his legs for Pete, who quickly steps between them. With his left hand he cups Patrick’s face and kisses him. His right hand goes to Patrick’s cock; already leaking precome, and swipes his thumb over the head. Patrick moans, pulls back and scoots further up the table, Pete climbs up after him.
Patrick settles down, spreading his legs again, Pete crawls up to him and bends down to kiss Patrick's thighs. He takes Patrick’s cock in one hand and without warning takes the head in his mouth for one quick, hard suck.
The scream Patrick lets out is very satisfactory. Patrick is already bucking up wanting more but Pete’s mouth is already gone.
“God, you’re beautiful like this,” Pete whispers hoarsely.
“Fucking, cocktease,” Patrick accuses him.
“No, cocktease, is that time you made me watch you finger yourself for one hour and threatened no sex if I touched you before you said it was okay.”
Patrick gets a glazed look over his eyes. “Yeah but wasn’t it great when you finally got to fuck me?”
That actually, had been pretty amazing, the anticipation had nearly killed him but when he was finally pushing into Patrick, who was so stretched by that point, there was no resistance and Pete got to fuck him into next week. But he’s not going to let Patrick know that right this second.
“The point is, you’re the cocktease. I’m too impatient, all about instant gratification. I already can’t wait,” Pete confesses.
“Then why are you?” Patrick asks. He grabs a bottle of lube, that must have been there the whole time but who would look at a bottle of lube when they can watch Patrick. Pete accepts the bottle, coats his fingers and leaves the bottle within reach. He spread Patrick’s legs a little more and works a finger in.
It’s quick; Patrick is already a little stretched from the rimming and fingering earlier. Pete adds another finger and curls them searching for Patrick’s sweet spot. He knows he found it when he feels Patrick tighten around his fingers and his eyes open wide before closing and from his mouth comes a melodic moan of pleasure.
By the time he works a third finger in Patrick is already working to make a rhythm, pushing down onto Pete’s fingers. Patrick lifts his head up a little and frowns in confusion.
“Why are you still wearing pants?” He asks.
That is a really good question. Pete pulls his fingers out and sits back but he doesn’t want to bother with taking his pants off so he just pushes them down, boxers and all, around his thighs. He reaches for the lube squirts some on his hand and spreads it over his cock, it feels really good but not as good as Patrick will.
He guides the head of his cock into Patrick and pushes in. Patrick’s breath hitches and he holds still.
Pete wipes the extra lube on his pants, leans down placing one hand on each side of Patrick’s head, right above his shoulders, caging him in with his body. Patrick’s lips stretch into a smile, Pete leans down to kiss him as he pushes the rest of the way in with one slow continuous motion.
Patrick’s moans are swallowed into Pete’s mouth. Pete only pulls back when he’s all the way in. He sees that Patrick has his eyes closed his breath is coming in slowly as he tries to relax his body.
There’s nothing more that Pete wants then to fuck Patrick through the table but he waits patiently bending down to kiss Patrick again.
“Okay,” Patrick says, finally.
Pete doesn’t wait any more he starts thrusting hard into Patrick, who’s mouth falls open and he starts making all these amazing sounds that just egg Pete on, to thrust in harder and faster.
When Patrick opens his eyes they lock with Pete’s. Pete falters for one seconds as those blown, lust filled, eyes stare back at him. Patrick brings one hand up and holds it in front of Pete’s face, his lips never asking but his eyes are begging.
Lucky for him Pete knows exactly what he wants. He licks Patrick’s palm, taking each finger into his mouth sucking them in and coating them with saliva. Patrick moans and bites his lips. With his hand sufficiently slick he reaches down and starts to stroke himself.
Pete looks down, he is torn between wanting to sit back and watch his cock disappear into Patrick while Patrick jerks himself off or staying where he is and watching Patrick’s face.
The moan that comes out of Patrick when Pete hits his prostate, Pete assumes by the clenching around his cock, makes that decision for him. He stays where he is and watches Patrick. Patrick watches back.
He lowers himself a little bit so he can feel Patrick’s knuckles on his abdomen as he jerks off. And he’s now thrusting so hard he’s sure there’ll be bruises on Patrick’s shoulders where they’re bumping into Pete’s lower forearms.
Pete thinks about that, about Patrick’s shoulders being tender and Patrick shivering with pleasure at the memory of why they’re tender, when Pete reminds him by placing a hand there.
That image, along with Patrick’s moans and the tight heat surrounding him, make him come, hard inside of Patrick.
Fuck and Patrick are the only words he manages to choke out as his entire body shakes and he slams one last time into Patrick. His arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself up so he closes his eyes and bends his head down his forehead touching Patrick’s chin and he lets his orgasm wash over him.
Vaguely he feels Patrick still beneath him and warm liquid coating his stomach. And somewhere far off, he hears something that may be his name fall from Patrick’s lips but he can hardly hear anything but the fast pounding of his heart in his ears.
It’s ten minutes later when they’re able to move that they start walking to their bedroom. However, half way there, the living room to be precise, Pete decides the bedroom is too far, so he rolls over the back of the couch taking Patrick with him to land on the other side.
Patrick is too tired to protest and just lets Pete manhandle him. He’s lying half on top of Pete, his head on Pete’s chest, drifting off when he feels Pete’s hand trail down his back and to his ass. He feels Pete use one hand to spread him open, one finger teases his entrance and Patrick knows he’s rubbing the come that’s still there. Pete is such a possessive bastard; lucky for him Patrick’s too tired to protest.
That is until he feels that finger try to push in.
“Pete,” Patrick mumbles but the warning is clear in his tone.
Pete sighs and says, “Fine.” Like a scolded toddler.
“Hey Patrick.” This time his voice is serious, so Patrick makes the effort to lift his head from Pete’s chest.
“What is it?” Patrick asks.
“We’re buying a new table,” Pete says his face dead serious. There’s a tiny pause and then Patrick’s throwing his head back, laughing the sound rich and loud making Pete feel warm inside and a smile to appear on his lips.