Bandslash fic: "Two For the Show"
Title: Two For the Show
Author: naotalba
Pairing: Pete/Ashlee/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1800 words
Dedication: Happy Valentine's Day, megyal!
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Summary: Patrick's POV from Three To Get Ready . . .
Pete had had it so easy. On Christmas Eve in 2007, he announced to his family at the dinner table that he had bought Ashlee a ring. Andrew jumped in with, "So you'll have to stop sucking face with Patrick now, huh?" in the way that little brothers who think they are hilarious do. Except Pete had very calmly just said no, and put his hand on Patrick's, which was a conversation-stopper, yes, but had the advantage of putting everything on the table rather neatly. Patrick's presence on Christmas Eve had been unremarkable even before, but the fact that he was on the red-eye to Texas with Pete in the morning was less of a head-scratcher for them after that. Pete being Pete, his family decided to take it as a sign that he was "settling down" and were just grateful there hadn't been a public announcement.
And Ashlee, well she lived for pissing off her dad. Papa Joe really, really, shouldn't have leaked to Perez Hilton of all people how little he appreciated his prospective son-in-law's bisexuality. Because of course there was a backlash, which meant of course he had to similarly leak the backtracking email that said, "you're my daughter and anyone who loves you, is welcome at my dinner table anytime." Which Ash had to take him up on. So Patrick had had to deal with being introduced at Christmas dinner as "my daughter's boyfriend's boyfriend," which was so, so inaccurate but really no one's business. Which Patrick reminded himself of over and over again as he desperately tried not to scream "no, actually the slut who needs two to satisfy her is your precious baby girl, asshole, now leave Pete the fuck alone." That wasn't fair to Ashlee anyway; she really would have been fine with just Pete, if Pete had been fine that way. But Pete hadn't been fine and they'd both known it, and Patrick wasn't stupid enough to say no to a chance with a woman like Ashlee, even under somewhat unconventional circumstances.
When it came time for wedding invitations, Pete and Ashlee's families just understood that Patrick would be a part of it one way or another. But Patrick's family didn't get it, and Hallmark doesn't make a card for, "I'm still going to be boning my best friend's girl, even after they get married, so come on down and celebrate with us." Patrick was completely lost for how to subtly clue in his relatives why they were being flown out to California for a wedding, while simultaneously making sure that nothing leakable got emailed or said in public. His family wasn't nearly used to the storm of media attention that the Wentz's and Simpsons dealt with; they could easily let something slip without meaning too. So Patrick had had to go to Grammy Vaughn's house in Glenview, and say to her (yell to her, actually, she was getting a little hard of hearing) that yes, he was just the best man, but he was much closer to the couple than that typically implied, and since he wouldn't ever have a wedding of his own, could she please just come to this one? And oddly enough, after that, the rest of the Vaughns still looked confused, but Grammy Vaughn brought out an antique set of three champagne flutes for a wedding gift.
It's not like Patrick wasn't used to awkward situations. He'd been 17 and in the midst of a giant dude-crush, a "this guy is the coolest guy ever" type-thing that made him follow Pete Wentz around like a puppy dog (Pete Wentz! from Arma Angelus! wanted to be in a band with him!). It wasn't that he couldn't say no to the guy, just that he couldn't imagine any idea of his not being awesome. So when Pete kissed him, he kissed back. When Pete started getting into it, he mentally shrugged and hit play on his favorite fantasy (backstage at the Grammys, Brittney and Christina Augilera fighting over him before they decide to share). Pete stuck his hand down Patrick's pants right when Brandy walked into his mental green room, so he could be forgiven for gasping and thrusting, even though it gave Pete the wrong idea. After that, he'd spent five years alternately making out with Pete and explaining the concept of heterosexuality to everyone that would listen.
The initial getting together was still his most awkward experience ever, although he never actually had to say "You don't mind if I screw your girlfriend, do you?" in real life like he did in nightmares. Patrick and Ashlee had been making thinly-veiled excuses to see each other, circling around one another. He knew why he was doing it, and he had figured that it was some sort of bizarre fascination on her part, trying to see what Pete saw in him. Until one early morning her mouth was suddenly hot on his, her hands sliding directly to his ass and pulling him in closer, like she knew exactly what she wanted. He got two, two and a half solid grinds against her, because my god she was hot, but then, "Pete!" and he was pushing her away (his hands, completely without his permission, used the opportunity of pushing her away to stroke her nipple).
But she was nodding and catching her breath, "Yeah, we'd better wait for him, he's got that jealousy thing" and pulling his hand off her chest -- taking it on a leisurely tour of the landscape first. So Patrick had ended up on Pete's bed, with Pete's girlfriend earnestly insisting that they could do this, that it could work. Patrick thought that the chance to have sex with Ashlee would keep him hard long enough to get through whatever Pete wanted, and Ashlee wanted to make Pete happy enough to have sex with him, so if Pete was on board, this would work.
Only then Pete had walked in, and picked up on the significance of the tableau, and started the mother of all freak outs. Ash instinctively went left when he went right, keeping Pete from face-planting between the two of them. And Patrick realized that this couldn't just be a stop gap, just a kinky game where he got to score with his much-hotter-best-friend's girl. Patrick wasn't happy unless Pete was happy, and Ashlee was an amazing girl, but she left his right side vulnerable. She couldn't keep him up on her own. Patrick managed to stutter something about having a relationship, god knows what, and Pete broke down, a babbling stream of "I love you's" and "please's " until it wasn't clear what he was asking for.
And Ashlee just started taking off her clothes.
Patrick wasn't up for trying anything too athletic with an audience, just fucked Ashlee on her back, Pete lying beside her, thrusting against her hip and sucking bruises on her neck with one hand low on Patrick's back. Ashlee kept a running commentary, how good he felt, how wet she was, how hard Pete was against her, and shoved two fingers into Patrick's mouth when his moans started to drown out her filthy rambles. Pete's hand slid around Patrick's chest between them, to Ashlee's clit, and she came fast enough that Patrick couldn't be embarrassed by his own lack of stamina. Patrick went to dispose of the condom, and came back to see Ashlee riding Pete, which made him nearly up for round two already. Ashlee had one hand pinching her own nipple, was grinding her pubic bone against Pete hard enough that he bit his lip with every thrust. Patrick sat beside them and managed to catch one bouncing breast in his mouth, caught one set of eyes then another watching him as he rubbed his lower lip against the nipple.
Pete groaned his name, pulled him closer. But instead of trying to push for more than Patrick could comfortably give him (like he had so often before, like Patrick had tried and failed to give him so many times), he kept his kisses short, his caresses non-invasive, and most importantly his dick pressed inside Ashlee. Ashlee had come again while Pete had Patrick too distracted to watch, which was a shame, because the soft, open look on her face implied it would have been worth watching. Patrick flicked Pete's nipple curiously as Ashlee languidly rocked above them, and Pete squealed and reared his hips up, pulling Ash down hard onto him.
Ash hummed and said, "Do the lip thing to him, too." Patrick followed the suggestion, rubbing his mouth against Pete's flat nipples while Ashlee's breasts jounced against the back of his head, and Pete laced his fingers in Patrick's hair and came.
When they were cleaned up, and dressed for the day, Pete buried his face in Patrick's neck for just a minute, and Ashlee squeezed his hand on her way out the door.
Patrick wasn't too worried about the wedding, but he did think the honeymoon would suck. The press had heard about the baby, made nasty comments about shotgun weddings. There was absolutely no way the couple could leave without being followed, which meant having the best man in the car with them would be pretty blatant. Pete and Ash insisted that he be there the first night, despite his protests, and the best that they could do was a campout. It had been unseasonably cold, and he and Pete had both worried about the baby with Ashlee being outside all night. She, of course, pointed out that she was warmer between the two of them than she would be in a bed by herself.
But the wedding was boring, his role limited to making sure no one caught him mouthing along with the vows and touching the ring he wore on a chain around his neck. The honeymoon, though, went just as it should. The baby made Ashlee's breasts fuller, the nipples dark and huge in the moonlight. Pete's fingers tasted like marshmallow when he licked them, marshmallow and Ashlee. He could close his eyes, if he wanted, and pretend that there was only one mouth on him, but just this once he watched them kiss over his dick, let himself enjoy the aesthetics of Pete's mouth even if his dick couldn't join in the appreciation. He reached between them to stroke himself when they got distracted by kissing each other, and got smacked on both sides when he spurted onto their faces.
That night, the three of the burrowed into an extra large sleeping bag. Patrick rested one hand on the tiny curve beginning to form under Ashlee's navel, and the other held Pete's hand against his own chest, Pete's ring clanking against Patrick's. And yeah, it was awkward. But worth it.
Author: naotalba
Pairing: Pete/Ashlee/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1800 words
Dedication: Happy Valentine's Day, megyal!
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Summary: Patrick's POV from Three To Get Ready . . .
Pete had had it so easy. On Christmas Eve in 2007, he announced to his family at the dinner table that he had bought Ashlee a ring. Andrew jumped in with, "So you'll have to stop sucking face with Patrick now, huh?" in the way that little brothers who think they are hilarious do. Except Pete had very calmly just said no, and put his hand on Patrick's, which was a conversation-stopper, yes, but had the advantage of putting everything on the table rather neatly. Patrick's presence on Christmas Eve had been unremarkable even before, but the fact that he was on the red-eye to Texas with Pete in the morning was less of a head-scratcher for them after that. Pete being Pete, his family decided to take it as a sign that he was "settling down" and were just grateful there hadn't been a public announcement.
And Ashlee, well she lived for pissing off her dad. Papa Joe really, really, shouldn't have leaked to Perez Hilton of all people how little he appreciated his prospective son-in-law's bisexuality. Because of course there was a backlash, which meant of course he had to similarly leak the backtracking email that said, "you're my daughter and anyone who loves you, is welcome at my dinner table anytime." Which Ash had to take him up on. So Patrick had had to deal with being introduced at Christmas dinner as "my daughter's boyfriend's boyfriend," which was so, so inaccurate but really no one's business. Which Patrick reminded himself of over and over again as he desperately tried not to scream "no, actually the slut who needs two to satisfy her is your precious baby girl, asshole, now leave Pete the fuck alone." That wasn't fair to Ashlee anyway; she really would have been fine with just Pete, if Pete had been fine that way. But Pete hadn't been fine and they'd both known it, and Patrick wasn't stupid enough to say no to a chance with a woman like Ashlee, even under somewhat unconventional circumstances.
When it came time for wedding invitations, Pete and Ashlee's families just understood that Patrick would be a part of it one way or another. But Patrick's family didn't get it, and Hallmark doesn't make a card for, "I'm still going to be boning my best friend's girl, even after they get married, so come on down and celebrate with us." Patrick was completely lost for how to subtly clue in his relatives why they were being flown out to California for a wedding, while simultaneously making sure that nothing leakable got emailed or said in public. His family wasn't nearly used to the storm of media attention that the Wentz's and Simpsons dealt with; they could easily let something slip without meaning too. So Patrick had had to go to Grammy Vaughn's house in Glenview, and say to her (yell to her, actually, she was getting a little hard of hearing) that yes, he was just the best man, but he was much closer to the couple than that typically implied, and since he wouldn't ever have a wedding of his own, could she please just come to this one? And oddly enough, after that, the rest of the Vaughns still looked confused, but Grammy Vaughn brought out an antique set of three champagne flutes for a wedding gift.
It's not like Patrick wasn't used to awkward situations. He'd been 17 and in the midst of a giant dude-crush, a "this guy is the coolest guy ever" type-thing that made him follow Pete Wentz around like a puppy dog (Pete Wentz! from Arma Angelus! wanted to be in a band with him!). It wasn't that he couldn't say no to the guy, just that he couldn't imagine any idea of his not being awesome. So when Pete kissed him, he kissed back. When Pete started getting into it, he mentally shrugged and hit play on his favorite fantasy (backstage at the Grammys, Brittney and Christina Augilera fighting over him before they decide to share). Pete stuck his hand down Patrick's pants right when Brandy walked into his mental green room, so he could be forgiven for gasping and thrusting, even though it gave Pete the wrong idea. After that, he'd spent five years alternately making out with Pete and explaining the concept of heterosexuality to everyone that would listen.
The initial getting together was still his most awkward experience ever, although he never actually had to say "You don't mind if I screw your girlfriend, do you?" in real life like he did in nightmares. Patrick and Ashlee had been making thinly-veiled excuses to see each other, circling around one another. He knew why he was doing it, and he had figured that it was some sort of bizarre fascination on her part, trying to see what Pete saw in him. Until one early morning her mouth was suddenly hot on his, her hands sliding directly to his ass and pulling him in closer, like she knew exactly what she wanted. He got two, two and a half solid grinds against her, because my god she was hot, but then, "Pete!" and he was pushing her away (his hands, completely without his permission, used the opportunity of pushing her away to stroke her nipple).
But she was nodding and catching her breath, "Yeah, we'd better wait for him, he's got that jealousy thing" and pulling his hand off her chest -- taking it on a leisurely tour of the landscape first. So Patrick had ended up on Pete's bed, with Pete's girlfriend earnestly insisting that they could do this, that it could work. Patrick thought that the chance to have sex with Ashlee would keep him hard long enough to get through whatever Pete wanted, and Ashlee wanted to make Pete happy enough to have sex with him, so if Pete was on board, this would work.
Only then Pete had walked in, and picked up on the significance of the tableau, and started the mother of all freak outs. Ash instinctively went left when he went right, keeping Pete from face-planting between the two of them. And Patrick realized that this couldn't just be a stop gap, just a kinky game where he got to score with his much-hotter-best-friend's girl. Patrick wasn't happy unless Pete was happy, and Ashlee was an amazing girl, but she left his right side vulnerable. She couldn't keep him up on her own. Patrick managed to stutter something about having a relationship, god knows what, and Pete broke down, a babbling stream of "I love you's" and "please's " until it wasn't clear what he was asking for.
And Ashlee just started taking off her clothes.
Patrick wasn't up for trying anything too athletic with an audience, just fucked Ashlee on her back, Pete lying beside her, thrusting against her hip and sucking bruises on her neck with one hand low on Patrick's back. Ashlee kept a running commentary, how good he felt, how wet she was, how hard Pete was against her, and shoved two fingers into Patrick's mouth when his moans started to drown out her filthy rambles. Pete's hand slid around Patrick's chest between them, to Ashlee's clit, and she came fast enough that Patrick couldn't be embarrassed by his own lack of stamina. Patrick went to dispose of the condom, and came back to see Ashlee riding Pete, which made him nearly up for round two already. Ashlee had one hand pinching her own nipple, was grinding her pubic bone against Pete hard enough that he bit his lip with every thrust. Patrick sat beside them and managed to catch one bouncing breast in his mouth, caught one set of eyes then another watching him as he rubbed his lower lip against the nipple.
Pete groaned his name, pulled him closer. But instead of trying to push for more than Patrick could comfortably give him (like he had so often before, like Patrick had tried and failed to give him so many times), he kept his kisses short, his caresses non-invasive, and most importantly his dick pressed inside Ashlee. Ashlee had come again while Pete had Patrick too distracted to watch, which was a shame, because the soft, open look on her face implied it would have been worth watching. Patrick flicked Pete's nipple curiously as Ashlee languidly rocked above them, and Pete squealed and reared his hips up, pulling Ash down hard onto him.
Ash hummed and said, "Do the lip thing to him, too." Patrick followed the suggestion, rubbing his mouth against Pete's flat nipples while Ashlee's breasts jounced against the back of his head, and Pete laced his fingers in Patrick's hair and came.
When they were cleaned up, and dressed for the day, Pete buried his face in Patrick's neck for just a minute, and Ashlee squeezed his hand on her way out the door.
Patrick wasn't too worried about the wedding, but he did think the honeymoon would suck. The press had heard about the baby, made nasty comments about shotgun weddings. There was absolutely no way the couple could leave without being followed, which meant having the best man in the car with them would be pretty blatant. Pete and Ash insisted that he be there the first night, despite his protests, and the best that they could do was a campout. It had been unseasonably cold, and he and Pete had both worried about the baby with Ashlee being outside all night. She, of course, pointed out that she was warmer between the two of them than she would be in a bed by herself.
But the wedding was boring, his role limited to making sure no one caught him mouthing along with the vows and touching the ring he wore on a chain around his neck. The honeymoon, though, went just as it should. The baby made Ashlee's breasts fuller, the nipples dark and huge in the moonlight. Pete's fingers tasted like marshmallow when he licked them, marshmallow and Ashlee. He could close his eyes, if he wanted, and pretend that there was only one mouth on him, but just this once he watched them kiss over his dick, let himself enjoy the aesthetics of Pete's mouth even if his dick couldn't join in the appreciation. He reached between them to stroke himself when they got distracted by kissing each other, and got smacked on both sides when he spurted onto their faces.
That night, the three of the burrowed into an extra large sleeping bag. Patrick rested one hand on the tiny curve beginning to form under Ashlee's navel, and the other held Pete's hand against his own chest, Pete's ring clanking against Patrick's. And yeah, it was awkward. But worth it.