Click Click Click
Title: Click Click Click
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Pete/Patrick (Peterick)
Summary: Patrick was getting really irritated
Warning: Uh.... sex? Nothing crazy.
A/N: Boredom. And an attempt at relative PWP.
Word Count: 2173
Patrick batted Pete away for what must have been the hundredth time.
“Seriously, Pete, I’m trying to work.” Pete hovered behind him still, though he relented with the poking and petting and incessant touching. Patrick could almost tangibly feel him standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot and thinking about his next move. Pete shuffled a little, sock clad feet sliding smoothly on wooden floorboards. Patrick scowled. “Go away and find something else to do.” Pete seemed to hesitate for a moment in Patrick’s peripheral vision, about to leave, then he came closer again, perching against the side of the desk and looking at Patrick.
Patrick was getting really irritated. He steadfastly ignored him, trying to focus on the Garage Band screen open in front of him and get on with what he was trying so vainly to do. Pete hopped up onto the desk, legs swinging idly back and forth, picking up a stapler and fiddling with it. He clicked it and a staple fell to the floor. He did it again and Patrick clenched his teeth. Click. Click. Click. Patrick snapped.
“Fucking stop it!” he demanded, a hand closing tight around Pete’s wrist wrenching the stapler from his hand and depositing it on the other side of the desk. Pete blinked at him slowly and Patrick slowly uncurled his fingers from around Pete’s wrist.
Pete rubbed at his wrist a little and Patrick watched him out of the corner of his eye. He clenched his teeth again when Pete reached out and picked up a pen, clicking it on then off, then on, then off. Patrick could not deal with this.
“Put. It. Down.” Pete didn’t look at him, just clicked the pen again. Patrick almost growled in frustration, standing up abruptly and snatching the pen away, throwing it across the room. Pete was looking at him with wide eyes. “What is your fucking problem Pete?” he asked, frustration evident in his voice. Pete was slow to answer, looking uncomfortable.
“I’m bored.” Patrick wanted to hit him. He wasn’t going to hit him though, he was angry, but he’d never hit him.
“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” he retorted, irritated, brows knitted in a frown. Pete shrugged, looking down, stupid hair falling in his eyes.
“I don’t know. We could fuck?” Patrick scoffed.
“I am trying to work and you want to fuck me? That’s why you’re annoying the hell out of me?” He looked at a loss with how ridiculous Pete was sometimes. “I can’t believe you.” Pete glanced up through his fringe and mumbled something that sounded like ‘sorry for being horny man’.
Patrick could see he was going to get nothing done at all with Pete shadowing him like some moody bored child demanding attention. So he’d give him attention. He rubbed his nose a little and saved his work whilst telling Pete;
“Go upstairs and get undressed. I’ll be up in a minute.” Pete seemed to take a moment to register Patrick’s words, then he caught up with them, grinning lightening fast and too wide, same as always, slipping off the edge of the desk, feet hitting the floor with a soft pad. Patrick listened to him go up the stairs, feet quick on the carpeted steps, and couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself. How Pete could be so over eager and this way in the middle of the day would never fail to fascinate him.
He closed his laptop and followed slowly in Pete’s wake, silent, half smiling. Pete was beyond irritating but Patrick could not help but love him.
Patrick stepped into the bedroom and watched Pete shimmying out of too tight jeans unaware. His let his eyes linger on the movement of muscles in his inked arms and the slightly off balance way he pulled his jeans off from round his ankles. Patrick slipped off his own tee shirt silently and undid his belt. Pete turned around, hearing the clink, a smile flickering at the edge of his mouth, wearing nothing but the ink on his skin and a stare that made Patrick’s gut curl and twist in the best ways.
Patrick shucked his jeans and underwear at his own pace, climbing onto the bed and ignoring Pete. It was hardly a moment before he felt hot hands on him, soft lips skimming over his skin, pressing him down onto the mattress, solid weight settling on top of him. He smiled, a little amused, over-eager Wentz smothering him and biting at his jaw. A hand slid down his side and palmed at his ass.
“Not how we’re doing this but the enthusiasm is noted,” Patrick murmured before rolling them with a grunt of effort. Pete looked disorientated, blinking up at him, mouth slightly open. Patrick wanted to laugh at him but that would be cruel. He kissed him softly, lingering, whilst nudging his thighs apart with a knee. As Patrick broke away, he saw the way Pete’s eyes were wide open and he looked confused, pinned, very still compared to how agitated he had been for hours. He nudged Pete’s thighs further apart and Pete moved them willingly, he just seemed like he didn’t quite understand what was happening, so Patrick explained, voice low; “You’re not fucking me Pete, I have to sit at a computer and work for the rest of the day. And really, somebody needs to fuck some sense into you.” Pete’s mouth opened as if to reply, a frown forming on his face, but he seemed at a bit of a loss. Patrick supposed it was a little different, he didn’t usually fuck Pete, but really, it had to happen some time.
Grabbing the lube beside them on the bed that Pete had had the good grace to dig out of the drawer; Patrick sat back on his knees and poured some onto his fingers, warming it a little. Pete was still staring at him, a small frown on his face. With his clean hand he slid a hand under Pete’s knees one at a time, making him bend them, since Pete didn’t seem to be getting with the program. Pete moved easily in some sort of confused looking daze, only making a sound when Patrick slid slick fingers over his entrance.
“Patrick, Trick, I don’t…. I don’t do this. Why are you… I don’t.” Patrick raised an eyebrow and hummed a little, kissing Pete’s knee lightly.
“C’mon, for me, relax… you’re fine. You can deal with it.”
Pete’s frown lessened slightly but didn’t leave, insecurity written all over his face. Patrick quirked one eyebrow and slid one finger slowly in, watching the faces Pete made and holding back a smile. He looked confused and mildly uncomfortable all at once, and god was he tight. Patrick kissed his knee again and repeated; “Relax.” Pete tried, Patrick’s sure he did, but it barely changed a thing. Patrick was slow and gentle working in a second finger and seeing the way Pete’s jaw tightened a little and he kept his mouth shut. Patrick wasn’t trying to hurt him, but it kind of had to hurt a little. He scissored his fingers a little before pressing in with three fingers. Pete actually made a sound again at that and Patrick felt a low twist of worry, frowning and crooking his fingers a couple of times until Pete jerked, a strangled whimper escaping his mouth. He smiled against Pete’s thigh, kissing just by his knee and pressed his fingers just so again, kind of loving the helpless low sound that came out of Pete’s mouth and the way he shifted on the sheets.
“You like that don’t you?” Pete’s eyes flicked to him, half closed and he closed his mouth, cheeks a little flushed a way Patrick wasn’t used to seeing. Patrick liked seeing it. He twisted his fingers a little and crooked them harder and Pete whimpered again, hips lifting a little, exhaling an unsteady stuttering breath. Patrick’s stomach was twisting in good knots and blood was rushing to all the right places, voice coming out a little rough. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this.” Pete closed his eyes and bit his own bottom lip, a muffled sound escaping his mouth.
Patrick took out his fingers slowly, watching the little twitches of expression on Pete’s face he was trying to hide. Tearing open the condom packet, Patrick rolled it on and slicked up, running a soothing hand over Pete’s thigh and leaning over him, lining up and pressing in, shifting hips forward in little increments and kind of loving the way Pete’s breath hitched and he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. Patrick tilted his head down and licked a slow line up the column of Pete’s throat and kissed to his mouth. Pete kissed him back soft and easy, letting Patrick control the kiss. Patrick rocked his hips forward, bottoming out and groaning against Pete’s lips, hearing the strained little whimper that left his mouth. “Fuck, Pete, you feel so good. Fuck.” Pete made a quiet sound and shifted into Patrick slightly. Patrick smiled against the corner of Pete’s mouth and pulled back slowly, snapping his hips back in hard, grunting a little at the effort and smirking at the choked sound Pete made, his head lolling back against the sheets, mouth falling open, eyes closed.
Bracing his arms either side of Pete, Patrick moved slowly, fucking into Pete slow and hard and biting his lip to hold back the grin every time Pete’s mouth fell open with a moan and he squirmed back desperately, blunt fingernails digging into Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick groaned low, the aching heat and tightness and Pete’s hands on him and the legs hooked round him to pull him in closer, harder, faster, it was all too much. He could feel it building in his gut already, sweat beading on his forehead. Patrick kissed Pete hard, biting at his lip and licking into his mouth, Pete responding with a breathless moan, body arching up under him, rocking into ever thrust.
“You’re so fucking tight, fuck,” he mumbled against Pete’s mouth, kissing him quick and firmly, resting foreheads together. Pete made a strange strangled sound and bit him sharply.
“What do you fucking expect? Not like I’ve done this before.” That statement makes Patrick’s breath stick in his throat and he kissed him, swallowing the sounds escaping Pete’s mouth with every snap forward of his hips. He didn’t know that, he’d just assumed… that, well, it was Pete, he just thought he would have tried it at least once. God that made Patrick hot, knowing nobody else had ever done that to Pete, made him act that way.
Patrick thrust harder, breaths coming out in low moans and breathless pants, balancing himself awkwardly to get a hand around Pete, jerking him quick and twisting his wrist on the upstroke, just how he knew he liked it. Pete whined and moaned, coming after barely a moment’s attention, back arching absurdly on the bed, head lolling back and eyes rolling a little, half open. Patrick groaned and pushed into the tight heat squeezing even more around him, hips snapping forward roughly, sticky hand squeezing Pete’s hip tightly enough to bruise.
Pete rocked into the movement unsteadily, making quiet sounds, body mostly limp against the sheep, over stimulation making him twitch and keen softly. Patrick couldn’t last long after that, coming hard enough to make his vision go spotty and his heart feel like it was beating out of his chest. He collapsed slowly down onto Pete, slick sweaty skin cooling, Pete’s stomach sticky. Pete’s muffled tired grumbling sound prompted Patrick enough to push himself up and pull out, feeling bad for Pete’s wince and kissing his clean hip.
“You okay?” Pete didn’t answer, just made some vague incomprehensible noise and let his eyes half open to blink at Patrick. Patrick smiled and leant down to kiss him softly, moving away to deposit the condom in the trash and grab Pete’s tee shirt to clean them both up. Pete made a faint sound of protest at that, but relented, eyes closing. Patrick got up again to go to the bathroom, washing his hands, walking back into the room saying; “You should probably shower if you’re not feeling too…” He trailed off, looking at Pete on the bed.
Pete was sprawled where Patrick had left him, eyes closed and chest rising and falling evenly. Patrick quieted right down instantly, moving to pull a comforter over him and press a kiss to his still sweat damp temple. He stood a moment, looking at him, this warm swelling feeling in his chest, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, then he decide to take advantage of what he had.
Patrick got dressed, padding quietly downstairs and back to his laptop, settling down in the desk chair and starting back on with his work, no distractions, the house completely silent.
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Pete/Patrick (Peterick)
Summary: Patrick was getting really irritated
Warning: Uh.... sex? Nothing crazy.
A/N: Boredom. And an attempt at relative PWP.
Word Count: 2173
Patrick batted Pete away for what must have been the hundredth time.
“Seriously, Pete, I’m trying to work.” Pete hovered behind him still, though he relented with the poking and petting and incessant touching. Patrick could almost tangibly feel him standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot and thinking about his next move. Pete shuffled a little, sock clad feet sliding smoothly on wooden floorboards. Patrick scowled. “Go away and find something else to do.” Pete seemed to hesitate for a moment in Patrick’s peripheral vision, about to leave, then he came closer again, perching against the side of the desk and looking at Patrick.
Patrick was getting really irritated. He steadfastly ignored him, trying to focus on the Garage Band screen open in front of him and get on with what he was trying so vainly to do. Pete hopped up onto the desk, legs swinging idly back and forth, picking up a stapler and fiddling with it. He clicked it and a staple fell to the floor. He did it again and Patrick clenched his teeth. Click. Click. Click. Patrick snapped.
“Fucking stop it!” he demanded, a hand closing tight around Pete’s wrist wrenching the stapler from his hand and depositing it on the other side of the desk. Pete blinked at him slowly and Patrick slowly uncurled his fingers from around Pete’s wrist.
Pete rubbed at his wrist a little and Patrick watched him out of the corner of his eye. He clenched his teeth again when Pete reached out and picked up a pen, clicking it on then off, then on, then off. Patrick could not deal with this.
“Put. It. Down.” Pete didn’t look at him, just clicked the pen again. Patrick almost growled in frustration, standing up abruptly and snatching the pen away, throwing it across the room. Pete was looking at him with wide eyes. “What is your fucking problem Pete?” he asked, frustration evident in his voice. Pete was slow to answer, looking uncomfortable.
“I’m bored.” Patrick wanted to hit him. He wasn’t going to hit him though, he was angry, but he’d never hit him.
“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” he retorted, irritated, brows knitted in a frown. Pete shrugged, looking down, stupid hair falling in his eyes.
“I don’t know. We could fuck?” Patrick scoffed.
“I am trying to work and you want to fuck me? That’s why you’re annoying the hell out of me?” He looked at a loss with how ridiculous Pete was sometimes. “I can’t believe you.” Pete glanced up through his fringe and mumbled something that sounded like ‘sorry for being horny man’.
Patrick could see he was going to get nothing done at all with Pete shadowing him like some moody bored child demanding attention. So he’d give him attention. He rubbed his nose a little and saved his work whilst telling Pete;
“Go upstairs and get undressed. I’ll be up in a minute.” Pete seemed to take a moment to register Patrick’s words, then he caught up with them, grinning lightening fast and too wide, same as always, slipping off the edge of the desk, feet hitting the floor with a soft pad. Patrick listened to him go up the stairs, feet quick on the carpeted steps, and couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself. How Pete could be so over eager and this way in the middle of the day would never fail to fascinate him.
He closed his laptop and followed slowly in Pete’s wake, silent, half smiling. Pete was beyond irritating but Patrick could not help but love him.
Patrick stepped into the bedroom and watched Pete shimmying out of too tight jeans unaware. His let his eyes linger on the movement of muscles in his inked arms and the slightly off balance way he pulled his jeans off from round his ankles. Patrick slipped off his own tee shirt silently and undid his belt. Pete turned around, hearing the clink, a smile flickering at the edge of his mouth, wearing nothing but the ink on his skin and a stare that made Patrick’s gut curl and twist in the best ways.
Patrick shucked his jeans and underwear at his own pace, climbing onto the bed and ignoring Pete. It was hardly a moment before he felt hot hands on him, soft lips skimming over his skin, pressing him down onto the mattress, solid weight settling on top of him. He smiled, a little amused, over-eager Wentz smothering him and biting at his jaw. A hand slid down his side and palmed at his ass.
“Not how we’re doing this but the enthusiasm is noted,” Patrick murmured before rolling them with a grunt of effort. Pete looked disorientated, blinking up at him, mouth slightly open. Patrick wanted to laugh at him but that would be cruel. He kissed him softly, lingering, whilst nudging his thighs apart with a knee. As Patrick broke away, he saw the way Pete’s eyes were wide open and he looked confused, pinned, very still compared to how agitated he had been for hours. He nudged Pete’s thighs further apart and Pete moved them willingly, he just seemed like he didn’t quite understand what was happening, so Patrick explained, voice low; “You’re not fucking me Pete, I have to sit at a computer and work for the rest of the day. And really, somebody needs to fuck some sense into you.” Pete’s mouth opened as if to reply, a frown forming on his face, but he seemed at a bit of a loss. Patrick supposed it was a little different, he didn’t usually fuck Pete, but really, it had to happen some time.
Grabbing the lube beside them on the bed that Pete had had the good grace to dig out of the drawer; Patrick sat back on his knees and poured some onto his fingers, warming it a little. Pete was still staring at him, a small frown on his face. With his clean hand he slid a hand under Pete’s knees one at a time, making him bend them, since Pete didn’t seem to be getting with the program. Pete moved easily in some sort of confused looking daze, only making a sound when Patrick slid slick fingers over his entrance.
“Patrick, Trick, I don’t…. I don’t do this. Why are you… I don’t.” Patrick raised an eyebrow and hummed a little, kissing Pete’s knee lightly.
“C’mon, for me, relax… you’re fine. You can deal with it.”
Pete’s frown lessened slightly but didn’t leave, insecurity written all over his face. Patrick quirked one eyebrow and slid one finger slowly in, watching the faces Pete made and holding back a smile. He looked confused and mildly uncomfortable all at once, and god was he tight. Patrick kissed his knee again and repeated; “Relax.” Pete tried, Patrick’s sure he did, but it barely changed a thing. Patrick was slow and gentle working in a second finger and seeing the way Pete’s jaw tightened a little and he kept his mouth shut. Patrick wasn’t trying to hurt him, but it kind of had to hurt a little. He scissored his fingers a little before pressing in with three fingers. Pete actually made a sound again at that and Patrick felt a low twist of worry, frowning and crooking his fingers a couple of times until Pete jerked, a strangled whimper escaping his mouth. He smiled against Pete’s thigh, kissing just by his knee and pressed his fingers just so again, kind of loving the helpless low sound that came out of Pete’s mouth and the way he shifted on the sheets.
“You like that don’t you?” Pete’s eyes flicked to him, half closed and he closed his mouth, cheeks a little flushed a way Patrick wasn’t used to seeing. Patrick liked seeing it. He twisted his fingers a little and crooked them harder and Pete whimpered again, hips lifting a little, exhaling an unsteady stuttering breath. Patrick’s stomach was twisting in good knots and blood was rushing to all the right places, voice coming out a little rough. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this.” Pete closed his eyes and bit his own bottom lip, a muffled sound escaping his mouth.
Patrick took out his fingers slowly, watching the little twitches of expression on Pete’s face he was trying to hide. Tearing open the condom packet, Patrick rolled it on and slicked up, running a soothing hand over Pete’s thigh and leaning over him, lining up and pressing in, shifting hips forward in little increments and kind of loving the way Pete’s breath hitched and he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. Patrick tilted his head down and licked a slow line up the column of Pete’s throat and kissed to his mouth. Pete kissed him back soft and easy, letting Patrick control the kiss. Patrick rocked his hips forward, bottoming out and groaning against Pete’s lips, hearing the strained little whimper that left his mouth. “Fuck, Pete, you feel so good. Fuck.” Pete made a quiet sound and shifted into Patrick slightly. Patrick smiled against the corner of Pete’s mouth and pulled back slowly, snapping his hips back in hard, grunting a little at the effort and smirking at the choked sound Pete made, his head lolling back against the sheets, mouth falling open, eyes closed.
Bracing his arms either side of Pete, Patrick moved slowly, fucking into Pete slow and hard and biting his lip to hold back the grin every time Pete’s mouth fell open with a moan and he squirmed back desperately, blunt fingernails digging into Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick groaned low, the aching heat and tightness and Pete’s hands on him and the legs hooked round him to pull him in closer, harder, faster, it was all too much. He could feel it building in his gut already, sweat beading on his forehead. Patrick kissed Pete hard, biting at his lip and licking into his mouth, Pete responding with a breathless moan, body arching up under him, rocking into ever thrust.
“You’re so fucking tight, fuck,” he mumbled against Pete’s mouth, kissing him quick and firmly, resting foreheads together. Pete made a strange strangled sound and bit him sharply.
“What do you fucking expect? Not like I’ve done this before.” That statement makes Patrick’s breath stick in his throat and he kissed him, swallowing the sounds escaping Pete’s mouth with every snap forward of his hips. He didn’t know that, he’d just assumed… that, well, it was Pete, he just thought he would have tried it at least once. God that made Patrick hot, knowing nobody else had ever done that to Pete, made him act that way.
Patrick thrust harder, breaths coming out in low moans and breathless pants, balancing himself awkwardly to get a hand around Pete, jerking him quick and twisting his wrist on the upstroke, just how he knew he liked it. Pete whined and moaned, coming after barely a moment’s attention, back arching absurdly on the bed, head lolling back and eyes rolling a little, half open. Patrick groaned and pushed into the tight heat squeezing even more around him, hips snapping forward roughly, sticky hand squeezing Pete’s hip tightly enough to bruise.
Pete rocked into the movement unsteadily, making quiet sounds, body mostly limp against the sheep, over stimulation making him twitch and keen softly. Patrick couldn’t last long after that, coming hard enough to make his vision go spotty and his heart feel like it was beating out of his chest. He collapsed slowly down onto Pete, slick sweaty skin cooling, Pete’s stomach sticky. Pete’s muffled tired grumbling sound prompted Patrick enough to push himself up and pull out, feeling bad for Pete’s wince and kissing his clean hip.
“You okay?” Pete didn’t answer, just made some vague incomprehensible noise and let his eyes half open to blink at Patrick. Patrick smiled and leant down to kiss him softly, moving away to deposit the condom in the trash and grab Pete’s tee shirt to clean them both up. Pete made a faint sound of protest at that, but relented, eyes closing. Patrick got up again to go to the bathroom, washing his hands, walking back into the room saying; “You should probably shower if you’re not feeling too…” He trailed off, looking at Pete on the bed.
Pete was sprawled where Patrick had left him, eyes closed and chest rising and falling evenly. Patrick quieted right down instantly, moving to pull a comforter over him and press a kiss to his still sweat damp temple. He stood a moment, looking at him, this warm swelling feeling in his chest, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, then he decide to take advantage of what he had.
Patrick got dressed, padding quietly downstairs and back to his laptop, settling down in the desk chair and starting back on with his work, no distractions, the house completely silent.