"Holy shit." Pete muttered to himself as he peaked through the crack in Patrick's door. Pete was going to visit Patrick and go over some new lyrics and since nobody seemed to be home, he just let himself in. This though, this was more than Pete had bargained for. He saw Patrick stark naked on his bed, fucking himself on his fingers. Thick, pale digits pump in and out of the nineteen year old as quiet moans and whimpers leak out of his mouth. His normally wide and bright opalescent eyes, now pressed tightly closed. A hand was pressed over his mouth in a futile attempt to mask his sounds of pleasure. In, out, in, out; over and over. The fingers disappeared and reappeared again and again. Pete wanted to look away, really did, but he just couldn't. He watched as the hand that was over Patricks mouth now wrapped around himself, lightly brushing his thumb over the pearly bead of slick forming on the tip. "O-oh gosh, P-Pete please, h-harder!" The singer moaned. He was thicker and longer than Pete had imagined, his pulsing and red shaft was hidden in his fist as he sunk up and down on his fingers. Pete was enthralled. At that moment, Patrick was the only person in the world. And damn, was he beautiful. The sound of digits pumping in and of him and the quiet moans and the sound of skin hitting skin was enchanting to Pete. After three more pumps and a cry of "Oh P-Pete! Holy smokes! Yes!" Patrick came on his chubby stomach. Goddamn, Pete had never been so turned on in his entire twenty four years of life as much as he was at that moment. He ran to Patrick's bathroom and shoved his hand into his skinny jeans, coming in them in a matter of what felt like seconds. Unbeknownst to Pete, Patrick had planned this entire event for a few weeks and was outside of the bathroom listening to the bassist relieve himself. For once, it felt like Patrick was in control.
