The bartender's gaze flickered discreetly to the blond, grinning young man and a hole near his left shoulder snorted.
"Solo?" He questioned, a bit incredulously.
"Sure," Wentz smirked, eyebrow raised. Jekhar finished mixing his drink and leaned in to hand it across the bar.
"I'm surprised you haven't met. In fact, I'm surprised you two aren't bffs. He's quite... well-known around these parts." A corner of Jekhar's face lifted in amusement.
"I asked once. He said no." Wentz raised his glass in salute and chugged it down. "What else do you know about him?" he asked, wiping his lips on the sleeve of his tight black hoodie.
"Maybe you should be asking yourself," Jekhar responded, picking up a glass and rubbing it with his towel. "You know him?"
"Never mind that," Wentz replied. "What do you know?"
Jekhar hesitated, but eventually rolled his eye and continued.
"Solo's a little bit of a uh..." Jekhar trailed off, and Wentz swore something near his hip chuckled. Of course, by that point, it could've been the drink beginning to take effect, but still. Not willing to chance it, Wentz discreetly scooted his seat a few inches further away from the 'tender
( ... )
The next morning, Peter Wentz awoke in a lavish bedroom, his nude body stretched over the silk sheets of a large four-poster bed. His head was propped on a fluffed pillow at just the right angle for the sun's rays to shine languidly across his chest and neck, nowhere near piercing his eyes, simply lighting the pristine room with a steady golden glow
( ... )
(...the first time I posted that, it said "tandem" instead of "tangent." And there was no period at the end. So I fixed that and put Pete in a speedo. You're welcome.)
Gerard shook his head and blinked a few times, the image of a speedo-clad Pete Wentz dissolving along with the nonexistant Latin beat.
Frowning thoughtfully, he stared at the far wall and wondered to himself why it was always Latin. And then he noticed the way that Pete was watching him expectantly, one eyebrow arched
( ... )
Brow furrowed, Pete thought back to when he'd woken up this morning. He didn't remember anyone else in the bed with him, although he supposed the strangely large lump beneath the Mercury silk quilt and the thigh massage were probably a pretty decent clue, in retrospect
( ... )
"Okay!" Pete said, grabbing the handcuffs from Bert and securing them around his wrists with obviously practiced ease. He raised his arms above his head and smiled saucily. "Now what do you want me to do?" he asked in a low voice
( ... )
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"Solo?" He questioned, a bit incredulously.
"Sure," Wentz smirked, eyebrow raised. Jekhar finished mixing his drink and leaned in to hand it across the bar.
"I'm surprised you haven't met. In fact, I'm surprised you two aren't bffs. He's quite... well-known around these parts." A corner of Jekhar's face lifted in amusement.
"I asked once. He said no." Wentz raised his glass in salute and chugged it down. "What else do you know about him?" he asked, wiping his lips on the sleeve of his tight black hoodie.
"Maybe you should be asking yourself," Jekhar responded, picking up a glass and rubbing it with his towel. "You know him?"
"Never mind that," Wentz replied. "What do you know?"
Jekhar hesitated, but eventually rolled his eye and continued.
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Frowning thoughtfully, he stared at the far wall and wondered to himself why it was always Latin. And then he noticed the way that Pete was watching him expectantly, one eyebrow arched ( ... )
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