knock once for the father, twice for the son...
Story Title: Destiny -Folie a Duex Edition: Part 3
Story Type: Slash, AU
Characters: Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump
Pairings: Peterick,
Rating: PG-13/NC-17
Fandom: Bandom (FOB)
Series: Destiny -Folie a Duex Edition: Part 1, 2
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, OK? They belong to themselves, obviously. Although, if you could still own people, you know Pete would have started saving his money the first time Patrick opened his mouth.
Warnings: Slash, language
Summary: Sometimes there are two people who are so tied together, who's very essence are always searching for each other, who need each other the same way other people need air or water; that no matter the circumstances surrounding them, they will meet and they will change each other's lives. It's their destiny -it's as simple, and complicated, as that.
A/N: You don't really need to be familiar with the His Dark Materials books to read this, just that daemons are a part of your soul that everyone can see; they change shape when people are younger until they settle into their permanent shape at about 14 or 15. Traditionally, guys have female daemons and girls have male daemons.
His Dark Materials 'verse:
Patrick was in the kitchen when Natasha let out a soft cry, the one she used when there were strangers at the door.
“Someone's at the door, Patrick,” the daemon said in her usual low voice seconds before there was a polite knock on the front door; Patrick ran a finger affectionately over her head as he passed by her perch on his way to greet whoever was knocking.
Don't act so dense; it's not a good look for you, 'Tasha snapped, more annoyed with the fact that she was molting than with her human's assumed stupidity. We both know who's on the porch, you've been thinking about him non-stop since we met Joe and Zara.
Patrick rolled his eyes and walked to the door, a tentative smile already on his face; Natasha was right, of course -Patrick had been dreading and looking forward to today in equal measures all week. It didn't help that he could vividly remember staring up at Pete screaming on stage with Arma Angelus, 'Tasha wrapped around his neck as a garter snake, both of them equally fascinated with the older man.
Natasha had tried, in vain, to catch a glimpse of Pete's daemon; she had muttered to him the rumors about her being some sort of dog, but she stubbornly refused to stop looking until she could see for herself. It had gotten harder to go to shows when she had settled as a Peregrine Falcon late last year, but Patrick knew that she was still just as determined as ever to see the daemon.
That's what's got you so worked up, isn't it? Patrick mused as he worked open the locks. You're pissy because you finally get to meet Pete Wentz's daemon and your molting. Vain much, 'Tash?
Natasha huffed at him and went back to combing her loose feathers out with her beak and claws; Patrick snickered to himself and focused on the figures crowding his front door.
“Hey, I'm Pete,” Pete offered his hand, a self-depreciating smirk twisting his lips when Patrick blinked at the daemon pressed against his left side; her head came up to just past Pete's waist and she was broad through the shoulders, stocky, a build more suited for brawling than anything else. Her fur was gray and white, black tips on her ears and sprinkled along her muzzle. Patrick had the brief thought that if this daemon was a dog than Natasha was a robin.
Ignoring the resulting grumble from his daemon at the comparison, Patrick focused back on the guy standing in front of him, surprised to see that he was only a couple inches taller than he was. “Hey, I'm Patrick,” Patrick told him as he shook Pete's hand and opened the door enough for them to come inside.
Pete frowned a little as they walked inside; he glanced back down at his daemon before he seemed to come to a conclusion and smiled at Patrick, more naturally this time. “This is Mingan,” he offered, scratching her behind the ear.
“Hello,” Patrick said pleasantly when the wolf (because what else could she be?) daemon focused her attention on him; he was struck by the sudden urge to pet her, which was kind of disturbing because he had never wanted to touch someone else's daemon in his life, it just wasn't done. “That's Natasha,” he told them, waving a hand to indicate where 'Tasha was perched.
“Ignore her if she seems pissy,” Patrick added with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “She's molting and it's put her in a bad mood.”
“Ah, I feel your pain,” Pete grinned. “Min's unbearable when she's shedding in the summer.”
“Shut your mouth, infant,” Mingan told him primly as she delicately touched her nose to Natasha's beak in greeting.
The humans shared a laugh and Mingan looked the teenager over contemplatively. I like them, she informed Pete. They aren't afraid of us.
I know, Pete agreed. But you usually don't like people this quickly, not even Andy. What gives?
Min ignored him in favor of settling along the floor just in front of the other daemon's perch.
He mentally rolled his eyes at her refusal to answer; he looked over the kid in front of him for a minute before he made up his mind.
“Joe said you wanted to try out for the band?”