Fall Out Boy

Greed (Peterick)

[I'm sorry I've been uploading so much today my creative flow just runs and I can't stop it and this I the shit that goes down I apologize]

Patrick sat down on the edge of the stage, sweat dripping down his neck and his feet dangling over.

"Alright, I think that's our time limit. Thank you, Baltimore!" Patrick called to the mic, raising his free hand dramatically. The crowd cheered one last time before Pete walked over and helped Patrick to stand.

They walked off the stage, Patrick pulling his glasses out of his pocket and placing them gently on his face. This was utterly useless, for not a moment later Pete slammed him against the wall, pressing their lips together.

Patrick moaned briefly, Pete giving himself entrance to Patrick's mouth. This pulled another moan from Patrick, and Pete broke the kiss momentarily to push Patrick into the smaller and more condensed area of the dressing room.

Patrick launched his hand up to catch his fedora and keep it on his head, fixing his glasses again before Pete messed them up. Patrick could feel Pete getting harder through his jeans as he started grinding him into the wall.

"Ah, fuck- Pete!" Patrick gasped breathlessly. He felt himself get hard, and it became painfully annoying really fast. "P- Pete! Not no-OW!" Patrick moaned as Pete squeezed his hard-on, making the situation worse.

At this point there was so much friction in his jeans, Patrick was at a loss for common sense. He just let it happen. He kept one hand tangled in Pete's hair and the other pressed against the wall, letting Pete take over and leaving himself a hot mess.

His glasses were falling off his face, his fedora was crooked, his hair was ruffled, his clothes were messed up, and he could no longer suppress his moans. He felt his cheeks grow hot and his face blush, his sanity slowly ebbing away.

Patrick involuntarily pushed his hips forward, Pete growling into his ear with a smirk. "You like that, don't you, Trick?" Patrick found himself at a loss for words, just moaning in Pete's ear and tightening his grip on his hair.

Pete moaned at that, grinding down on Patrick harder. Patrick bit down hard on his lip, trying to retame his mind. Pete started rubbing between Patrick's legs, making him lose it and his knees go weak.

Patrick's eyes rolled into his head and his stomach tightened, his head thrown against the wall to help him breathe as he panted like a dog.

Pete rather enjoyed the sight, Patrick losing his mind underneath him, chest heaving and face blushing. Pete was hardly tired, twisting his head to kiss and suck at Patrick's neck.

Patrick tilted his head to the side, moaning loudly, a few lyrics from This Ain't A Scene running through his head.

"I'm not a shoulder to cry on, but I digress," He sang weakly and out of breath. Pete smirked, nibbling at Patrick's ear, causing his knees to buckle inward. He moaned again, his back sliding down against the wall. Pete was dragged down with him, making him finally pull away from Patrick for a few minutes.

Patrick closed his eyes and just breathed, head spinning. Pete smiled as Patrick fixed his glasses, sitting down flat on the floor in front of him.

"Damn, you're hot, babe." Pete breathed, "American Beauty on the streets, American Psycho in the sheets, Trick." Pete stood, walking out of the room, leaving Patrick alone. He was exhausted, closing his eyes lightly and falling asleep almost instantly.