Trick or Treat.
Title: Trick Or Treat?
Author: Seven... well, Me.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Billie Joe/Tré, Implied!Mike/Tré
Disclaimer: Not real, don't sue. Fan Fiction.
Summary: Tré has to be alone for Halloween.
Tré dropped the last of his candy into the bag of a small witch and closed his door. He flicked off his porch light to let the children know he had no more candy for the eager trick-or-treaters. Sighing, he ran his fingers through the coppery hair on his head. Although he hated to admit it, he missed Billie Joe and wanted nothing more than to see him, which he couldn’t. Billie Joe, of course, had the duty of father, which included taking his sons trick-or-treating.
Frankito had gone with just his mother this year… under her order. This left Tré with nothing to do on Halloween night. He had already finished unpacking all his boxes from moving out of, what was now, Claudia’s house. Their relationship had been rocky the past months and they, well Claudia decided he needed to get out of her home.
Tré groaned and went to the fridge in search of a beer. He cursed under his breath when he couldn’t find a beer and settled for a random juice box instead. He stabbed the small straw into the foil that covers the hole, pushing it through to the bottom. He puckered his lips around it and drew in a stream of fruit punch, coughing on it slightly. He plunked down on his couch, letting his hand fall limp as he dozed slightly.
He didn’t manage to fall asleep though, because his doorbell rang. “Damn trick-or-treaters.” He mumbled, putting his juice box on the coffee table and getting up. On his way to the door, he pulled out his wallet to get some singles for the poor children expecting candy.
He flicked on his porch light and fiddled with the lock. He got the deadbolt open and turned the knob to open the door, yawning quickly. “Oh my God.” He laughed, when he opened the door.
“Trick or treat?” replied a rather whorish looking Billie Joe. He was leaning against the doorframe in a small leather skirt, jacket, and boot set complete with fishnet stockings and heavy eyeliner.
“Get in here before any kids see you.” Tré scolded, yanking Billie Joe in the house by the collar.
“I think you’ve been naughty.” Billie Joe announced to Tré.
“Holy shit.” Tré murmured, eyeing up Billie Joe’s costume, “So if you’re in drag… whatcha’ got under that skirt?”
Billie Joe’s mouth curled into a smirk, “You’ll have to find out now, won’t ya’?”
Tré’s voice was low and husky, “I guess so. C’mere, baby.” He answered, holding his arms out to Billie Joe.
Billie Joe shook his head, “Oh no, no, no. Let’s dance.” He teased, turning Tré’s stereo on to a slow song. He grabbed Tré’s wrists and dragged him into the middle of the cluttered living room.
“Let’s not…” Tré replied, placing his hands on Billie Joe’s ass. Billie Joe smirked and pulled Tré’s body closer to his own, feeling Tré’s erection grind into his leg. Billie Joe dragged one of his boots up the drummer’s leg and then back down, snagging his fingers in the copper hair.
“I’ve always wanted to dance with you,” Billie Joe began, his voice slightly higher than before, “Boss.”
“Boss?” Tré inquired.
“Play along… I’m your secretary… we ran into each other at a bar.”
“You’ve got this all sorted out haven’t you?”
“Yep. Now play along.”
Tré cleared his throat, “Miss, this behavior is completely inappropriate.”
Billie Joe did his best to bat his eyelashes innocently, “We’re just dancing, sir.”
“Err…” Tré searched his mind, “I can’t… I have a wife.”
“You can’t,” Billie Joe leaned up to Tré’s ear and whispered, “Dance with me?”
The sexual tension in the room had built up to massive amount. Billie Joe could barely hold his composure but continued in his role, “Boss, you won’t squeal will you?”
“Squeal about what? To my wife?” Tré replied, in a low voice.
“No, no, no. To the law,” Billie Joe whispered, “Remember? I’m only 17.”
“Oh. Oh no, I won’t squeal.”
“Good.” Billie Joe answered, pulling his tongue across Tré’s jaw line.
“Very good.” Tré groaned, feeling the overwhelming sensations of Billie Joe’s body rubbing against his own.
“Hey, Boss?”
“Fuck this.” Tré answered, yanking on the zipper of Billie Joe’s leather jacket.
“Boss! I’m surprised!”
“Miss, I’ll have to search your body for weapons.”
“Sure, sure.” Billie Joe obliged, leading Tré into his bedroom by the hand. Tré slammed the door behind them and locked it. He ripped off the leather jacket and dragged his nails down Billie Joe’s chest.
“Now what’s under that skirt?” Tré said, more to himself than to Billie Joe. He yanked down the skirt and noted the leather thong under his fishnet stockings. He grinned at Billie Joe and captured his mouth in a passion-driven kiss.
Billie Joe’s phone rang and he broke away, “Adie.” He said before answering, “Hello?”
Tré went into the bathroom drawers and located a condom and some lubrication. He came back out to see Billie Joe pulling his clothes back on.
“No! No, no! Stop.” Tré said.
“I can’t. Jakob ate too much candy. He’s throwing up everywhere. Sorry, Tré.”
Tré sighed, “Okay, but can you really wear that home?”
“No. Mike has my normal clothes. Love you, Tré.”
“Love you too.” Tré answered sullenly, kissing his lips gently.
After about twenty minutes Tré went to the phone and dialed a well-known number. Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mike. What are you doing now?”
“I’ll be over in ten minutes.”
“Great.” Tré finished, hanging up.
Rifinito.
----
Sorry it's so rushed at the end. I had my mom on my ass to get off and do homework. Of course I couldn't wait to post this until tomorrow. XD
Author: Seven... well, Me.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Billie Joe/Tré, Implied!Mike/Tré
Disclaimer: Not real, don't sue. Fan Fiction.
Summary: Tré has to be alone for Halloween.
Tré dropped the last of his candy into the bag of a small witch and closed his door. He flicked off his porch light to let the children know he had no more candy for the eager trick-or-treaters. Sighing, he ran his fingers through the coppery hair on his head. Although he hated to admit it, he missed Billie Joe and wanted nothing more than to see him, which he couldn’t. Billie Joe, of course, had the duty of father, which included taking his sons trick-or-treating.
Frankito had gone with just his mother this year… under her order. This left Tré with nothing to do on Halloween night. He had already finished unpacking all his boxes from moving out of, what was now, Claudia’s house. Their relationship had been rocky the past months and they, well Claudia decided he needed to get out of her home.
Tré groaned and went to the fridge in search of a beer. He cursed under his breath when he couldn’t find a beer and settled for a random juice box instead. He stabbed the small straw into the foil that covers the hole, pushing it through to the bottom. He puckered his lips around it and drew in a stream of fruit punch, coughing on it slightly. He plunked down on his couch, letting his hand fall limp as he dozed slightly.
He didn’t manage to fall asleep though, because his doorbell rang. “Damn trick-or-treaters.” He mumbled, putting his juice box on the coffee table and getting up. On his way to the door, he pulled out his wallet to get some singles for the poor children expecting candy.
He flicked on his porch light and fiddled with the lock. He got the deadbolt open and turned the knob to open the door, yawning quickly. “Oh my God.” He laughed, when he opened the door.
“Trick or treat?” replied a rather whorish looking Billie Joe. He was leaning against the doorframe in a small leather skirt, jacket, and boot set complete with fishnet stockings and heavy eyeliner.
“Get in here before any kids see you.” Tré scolded, yanking Billie Joe in the house by the collar.
“I think you’ve been naughty.” Billie Joe announced to Tré.
“Holy shit.” Tré murmured, eyeing up Billie Joe’s costume, “So if you’re in drag… whatcha’ got under that skirt?”
Billie Joe’s mouth curled into a smirk, “You’ll have to find out now, won’t ya’?”
Tré’s voice was low and husky, “I guess so. C’mere, baby.” He answered, holding his arms out to Billie Joe.
Billie Joe shook his head, “Oh no, no, no. Let’s dance.” He teased, turning Tré’s stereo on to a slow song. He grabbed Tré’s wrists and dragged him into the middle of the cluttered living room.
“Let’s not…” Tré replied, placing his hands on Billie Joe’s ass. Billie Joe smirked and pulled Tré’s body closer to his own, feeling Tré’s erection grind into his leg. Billie Joe dragged one of his boots up the drummer’s leg and then back down, snagging his fingers in the copper hair.
“I’ve always wanted to dance with you,” Billie Joe began, his voice slightly higher than before, “Boss.”
“Boss?” Tré inquired.
“Play along… I’m your secretary… we ran into each other at a bar.”
“You’ve got this all sorted out haven’t you?”
“Yep. Now play along.”
Tré cleared his throat, “Miss, this behavior is completely inappropriate.”
Billie Joe did his best to bat his eyelashes innocently, “We’re just dancing, sir.”
“Err…” Tré searched his mind, “I can’t… I have a wife.”
“You can’t,” Billie Joe leaned up to Tré’s ear and whispered, “Dance with me?”
The sexual tension in the room had built up to massive amount. Billie Joe could barely hold his composure but continued in his role, “Boss, you won’t squeal will you?”
“Squeal about what? To my wife?” Tré replied, in a low voice.
“No, no, no. To the law,” Billie Joe whispered, “Remember? I’m only 17.”
“Oh. Oh no, I won’t squeal.”
“Good.” Billie Joe answered, pulling his tongue across Tré’s jaw line.
“Very good.” Tré groaned, feeling the overwhelming sensations of Billie Joe’s body rubbing against his own.
“Hey, Boss?”
“Fuck this.” Tré answered, yanking on the zipper of Billie Joe’s leather jacket.
“Boss! I’m surprised!”
“Miss, I’ll have to search your body for weapons.”
“Sure, sure.” Billie Joe obliged, leading Tré into his bedroom by the hand. Tré slammed the door behind them and locked it. He ripped off the leather jacket and dragged his nails down Billie Joe’s chest.
“Now what’s under that skirt?” Tré said, more to himself than to Billie Joe. He yanked down the skirt and noted the leather thong under his fishnet stockings. He grinned at Billie Joe and captured his mouth in a passion-driven kiss.
Billie Joe’s phone rang and he broke away, “Adie.” He said before answering, “Hello?”
Tré went into the bathroom drawers and located a condom and some lubrication. He came back out to see Billie Joe pulling his clothes back on.
“No! No, no! Stop.” Tré said.
“I can’t. Jakob ate too much candy. He’s throwing up everywhere. Sorry, Tré.”
Tré sighed, “Okay, but can you really wear that home?”
“No. Mike has my normal clothes. Love you, Tré.”
“Love you too.” Tré answered sullenly, kissing his lips gently.
After about twenty minutes Tré went to the phone and dialed a well-known number. Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mike. What are you doing now?”
“I’ll be over in ten minutes.”
“Great.” Tré finished, hanging up.
Rifinito.
----
Sorry it's so rushed at the end. I had my mom on my ass to get off and do homework. Of course I couldn't wait to post this until tomorrow. XD