this rivalry goes so deep between me and this loss of sleep over you...
Ok, so about a week ago
candy_belle left me prompt for "Peterick, angry sex" which, apparently, my brain decided meant a crossover with The Fast and The Furious (specifically the first movie). I don't even know any more guys, seriously.
The only thing you need to know is that Pete is a mechanic who street races on the side (among other things, but that's besides the point and not relevant right now) and Patrick is an uncover cop who's trying to bust Pete's illegal activities. Pete is still Pete Wentz and Patrick's undercover name is Patrick Vaughn.
Patrick ends up on Pete's street team and they're in his garage at this point, alone while the rest of the team is fucking off somewhere.
Patrick rests his head against the Charger's frame for a second; it's hot as fuck inside Wentz's garage and that's before factoring in the heat wave that was currently making Southern California it's bitch.
He glanced over to where Pete had stripped down to just his shorts and looked away again when he felt that slow fissure of desire skate down his spine. The tattoos decorating Pete's arms were enough to distract Patrick by themselves, but when you added in the snarky attitude, crazy intelligence (emphasis on the crazy) and unexpected sweetness that showed itself in the way he talked to his sister and the unswerving loyalty to his family and friends, Patrick knew he was going to be in a lot of trouble before the assignment was over.
Patrick squeezed his eyes closed and took a brief second to curse Way to fucken hell for putting him in this position, for dangling a detective badge in front of him like some God damn lure. And then cursed himself because he knew no matter what the happened, what decision he made, Patrick was going to end up hating himself.
"You like what you see, Vaughn?"
Patrick jumped a little and turned around to see a smug grin on the other man's face.
"I've seen better," Patrick told him as he rested against the car behind him and casually glanced around the half-finished cars that littered the garage.
Pete's grin sharpened as he slowly crept closer to Patrick, effectively boxing him in. "Not what I meant and you know it.
"Or do you think I don't know when I'm getting eye-fucked in my own garage?"
Patrick inhaled sharply and then shoved Pete hard enough to send him stumbling back a few feet.
"Fuck you, Wentz," Patrick snarled, taking his anger about his boss, himself, everything out on the man in front of him. "Who I screw is none of your damn business and it sure as fuck doesn't effect how good I am with a motor.
"I don't fucken care if this some fucken joke or, or game or hazing- "
"Joke?" Pete growled as he surged forward and pushed Patrick back until his knees hit the Charger and he couldn't go any where else. "Does this feel like a fucken joke to you?"
He grabbed Patrick's hand and pressed it against his crotch; Patrick taped at him, his fingers tightening reflexively against the hardness he felt there. "That's from watching you work up a sweat fixing that fucken engine and it didn't go down the entire time you were screaming at me like a fucken jackass.
"So, you tell me, Patrick- am I playing a fucken game here?"
The last words were panted out practically against Patrick's lips and Patrick swallowed audibly before he closed the distance between them and attacked Pete's mouth with his.
"Oh, thank fuck," Pete muttered as he licked his way inside Patrick's mouth; he pulled back with a moan and bit Patrick's bottom lip when Patrick moved his hands to Pete's hips and pulled him closer until he could feel Pete's erection pressed against his own.
"Been eye-fucking me all fucken week," Pete managed to get out between kisses as he rocked against Patrick. He muzzled Patrick's neck before he started biting at it, enjoying the little noises Patrick was letting out. "What the fuck am I suppose to do, ignore it, no way in hell -"
Pete got the front of Patrick's pants open and made enough room between them that he could work his hand down until he could wrap his fingers around Patrick's dick.
As Patrick dropped his forehead against Pete's shoulder he had a brief thought that he was even more fucked than he thought before the feel of calluses running over the head of his dick forced every other thought out of his head.