Inky Desires [Fall Out Boy]
Title: Inky Desires
Author:ruthiestump
Pairing: Patrick/Pete & Joe & Andy
Rating: R for sexy made up scenes
Warning: Boy foreplay, (I think)
Disclaimer: FICTION which means fake.
Summary:Patrick doesn't really like tattoos unless it's on either Pete, Joe, or Andy's skin.
Patrick sat on the brown dingy couch cringing at the sounds of needles buzzing and Pete's short yells. This tattoo parlor looked just a bit cleaner than the others they visited. Normal 17 year old would be psyched to see their friends get tattoos but Patrick wouldn't classify himself as normal. He didn't know what be was getting himself into when he agreed to be in Fall out Boy but he never expected that 'Tattoo Babysitter' was part of the job description. He never understood why people get tattoos. Patrick thought of them as colorful irremovable scars that hurt like hell getting them. Don't get him wrong, the end result of the tattoos are always beautiful especially on Pete, Joe, and Andy's skin.
You see, Patrick might have huge crushes on his band members. It isn't his fault that his band mates were so fucking attractive. Patrick's blue eyes were on Pete who was in the chair shirtless as a heavily tattooed man traced the metal needle on the outline of a chain below Pete's throat. Pete gritted his teeth so he can hold in his pain filled scream. Patrick noticed how Pete clenched his fist from the pain but his gaze always found it's way back to the newly raised skin which was black from the ink and red from the sharp needle. Patrick's lips started to tingle as he wanted to press his mouth against Pete's tattoo, kissing the raised skin and tasting Pete for the first time. It was another short yell from Joe that brought Patrick back from reality.
The blond boy swiveled in his seat to see Joe sitting in one of the chairs, his arm a canvas for the tattoo artist hovering above it. Joe sometimes made a fist when the pain got to him, making his bicep bulge against the tight t-shirt he was wearing. Patrick's dick twitched inside of his jeans as he saw himself sitting on top of Joe gripping the tattooed arm and devouring his lips. Patrick had to bite the back of his hand as Joe looked over at him and smiled. That smile was short lived web the tattoo artist started tracing the dark outline on his skin, making Joe cry out in pain, his mouth forming a small wet 'O' so tempting that Patrick almost came from just seeing it. His gaze moved from Joe's dangerous mouth to Andy behind him.
Andy was almost finished with his tattoo; they were just coloring it in. The tattoo was on his chest, right in the middle of his sculpted pecs, begging to be touched. The blues, greens, and reds were vibrant against Andy's skin and Patrick felt jealously towards the tattoo artist who was lucky enough to wipe down the paints from the tattoo and color in missing parts. Andy was just relaxing in his chair, waiting for the tattoo artist to finish up, all while rolling his eyes at Pete's pain filled yells. Patrick could just imagine himself hovering above Andy, his tongue running over the bumped skin, hips grinding onto the older man. Patrick bit his lip to conceal his moan and dig his face into the leather of the brown couch.
"Hey Patrick," Andy called from his side of the store. Patrick lifted his head off the couch and saw Andy looking at his new masterpiece in the mirror. "Come over here." Patrick stood from the couch and carefully moved over to Andy, making sure that the result of his fantasies wasn't visibly bulging out of his pants. He stood behind Andy; seeing the final product of the colorful tattoo in the mirror. All Patrick wanted to do was run his hands down Andy's chest but he kept his hands intertwined behind him. "Looks great." he told Andy. Andy smiled, his pink shiny lips making Patrick's hormones excited.
"Thanks. When are you getting yours done?" he asked admiring the artwork on his chest. Patrick shrugged behind him, his eyes glued on the raised colorful skin on Andy's toned chest. "Tattoos aren't really..." he took one deep breath to escape the fantasy he was about to enter. "They aren't really my thing."
Author:ruthiestump
Pairing: Patrick/Pete & Joe & Andy
Rating: R for sexy made up scenes
Warning: Boy foreplay, (I think)
Disclaimer: FICTION which means fake.
Summary:Patrick doesn't really like tattoos unless it's on either Pete, Joe, or Andy's skin.
Patrick sat on the brown dingy couch cringing at the sounds of needles buzzing and Pete's short yells. This tattoo parlor looked just a bit cleaner than the others they visited. Normal 17 year old would be psyched to see their friends get tattoos but Patrick wouldn't classify himself as normal. He didn't know what be was getting himself into when he agreed to be in Fall out Boy but he never expected that 'Tattoo Babysitter' was part of the job description. He never understood why people get tattoos. Patrick thought of them as colorful irremovable scars that hurt like hell getting them. Don't get him wrong, the end result of the tattoos are always beautiful especially on Pete, Joe, and Andy's skin.
You see, Patrick might have huge crushes on his band members. It isn't his fault that his band mates were so fucking attractive. Patrick's blue eyes were on Pete who was in the chair shirtless as a heavily tattooed man traced the metal needle on the outline of a chain below Pete's throat. Pete gritted his teeth so he can hold in his pain filled scream. Patrick noticed how Pete clenched his fist from the pain but his gaze always found it's way back to the newly raised skin which was black from the ink and red from the sharp needle. Patrick's lips started to tingle as he wanted to press his mouth against Pete's tattoo, kissing the raised skin and tasting Pete for the first time. It was another short yell from Joe that brought Patrick back from reality.
The blond boy swiveled in his seat to see Joe sitting in one of the chairs, his arm a canvas for the tattoo artist hovering above it. Joe sometimes made a fist when the pain got to him, making his bicep bulge against the tight t-shirt he was wearing. Patrick's dick twitched inside of his jeans as he saw himself sitting on top of Joe gripping the tattooed arm and devouring his lips. Patrick had to bite the back of his hand as Joe looked over at him and smiled. That smile was short lived web the tattoo artist started tracing the dark outline on his skin, making Joe cry out in pain, his mouth forming a small wet 'O' so tempting that Patrick almost came from just seeing it. His gaze moved from Joe's dangerous mouth to Andy behind him.
Andy was almost finished with his tattoo; they were just coloring it in. The tattoo was on his chest, right in the middle of his sculpted pecs, begging to be touched. The blues, greens, and reds were vibrant against Andy's skin and Patrick felt jealously towards the tattoo artist who was lucky enough to wipe down the paints from the tattoo and color in missing parts. Andy was just relaxing in his chair, waiting for the tattoo artist to finish up, all while rolling his eyes at Pete's pain filled yells. Patrick could just imagine himself hovering above Andy, his tongue running over the bumped skin, hips grinding onto the older man. Patrick bit his lip to conceal his moan and dig his face into the leather of the brown couch.
"Hey Patrick," Andy called from his side of the store. Patrick lifted his head off the couch and saw Andy looking at his new masterpiece in the mirror. "Come over here." Patrick stood from the couch and carefully moved over to Andy, making sure that the result of his fantasies wasn't visibly bulging out of his pants. He stood behind Andy; seeing the final product of the colorful tattoo in the mirror. All Patrick wanted to do was run his hands down Andy's chest but he kept his hands intertwined behind him. "Looks great." he told Andy. Andy smiled, his pink shiny lips making Patrick's hormones excited.
"Thanks. When are you getting yours done?" he asked admiring the artwork on his chest. Patrick shrugged behind him, his eyes glued on the raised colorful skin on Andy's toned chest. "Tattoos aren't really..." he took one deep breath to escape the fantasy he was about to enter. "They aren't really my thing."