question everything (( Peterick oneshots ))

Radiohead

I'm just gonna let you know that this is straight up smut so if you're not into that, just skip this.

Also I've never really written smut before and this is a sorta weird oneshot.

sorry x

———

Pete and Patrick met a few mouths ago when Patrick started college. He was a freshman with a late-teen-body and a high drinking tolerance, something that attracted a senior by the name Pete Wentz, also know as the really hot punk boy who's bisexual and has friends that are all flooded with individuality.

It's almost the end of the third semester and the two are inseparable.

Since they both go to college in Chicago and Pete is graduating soon, he thought ahead and is renting out an apartment that he lives in, and Patrick is there most nights. Meaning, they both have to take a tram to campus.

And today is no exception.

"Pete get your shit wE'RE LEAVING NOW." Patrick yells at the front door with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Pete's in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror debating: 'am I gonna speed jack off' or 'am i gonna go to school with morning wood'

He runs his hand through his hair, Patrick still yelling at him. "PATTY SHUT THE FUCK UP."

He hears a groan from the other side of the door. "Peter Panda, we gotta scoot or I'm going to be late for my band class and I'll miss important shit like an exam or something."

"Uh..." Pete straighten up, rolling his eyes and opens the door, "alright."

Patrick raises an eyebrow, "you good?"

"Fine."

Patrick shrugs without question and the two make their way to the subway station.

They run down stairs, and into the underground station. And Pete's trying to keep up with Patrick. He's also constantly pulling at his sweatshirt in hope that his boner would pass and he could go on with his day. But with his luck, that wasn't gonna happen.

They eventually step on the subway car. There's a small table with three seats on either side facing it. Like a booth at a restaurant.

Pete and Patrick shift to the back of the last car, like they normally do. Patrick sits in the window seat and Pete sits in the middle seat, placing his backpack on the isle seat. Patrick puts his on the table in front of him.

No one ever really sits across from them because no one like being in the back of a subway car, it's a little more of a rough and bumpy ride.

Patrick puts in earbuds and gazes out the window, sighing contently. Pete rubs his legs together, trying to get any friction he can. He bites his tongue, head in hands. "Fuck."

He looks at Patrick, messy light brown hair with his glasses sliding down his nose a bit. His skin ghostly pale with a small pink tint on his nose and cheeks, lips parted slightly.

Pete then looks around the train car quickly, trying to see how many people there are around them. There's an elderly woman on the other side of the car in the corner, and she literally can't seem to feel the shaking of the car because she's asleep...

She's asleep.

Pete gets an idea.

Pete rests his hand on Patrick thigh, still looking forward. Patrick looks over at him, but when he sees Pete's eyes staring off into space he turns back to the window.

Pete slowly start rubbing Patrick's inner thigh, edging closer to his junk with ever motion. He hears Patrick inhale sharply. Patrick pulls out his earbuds and throws them in the table, Pete hearing Radiohead playing silently through the buds.

"Pete, stop." He breathes out.

Pete moves his hand further and starts lightly palming him.

Patrick moans quietly, throwing his hand over his mouth. Pete continues, getting roughing with his movements. He's painfully hard at this point, seeing Patrick slowly falling apart in front of him.

Pete pulls his hand back and Patrick whines, Pete raises an eyebrow.

"Please."

Pete puts his right hand in front of Patrick. "Suck." He wiggles his fingers.

Patrick does so, pulling off with a 'pop', "c'mon..."

Pete doesn't need to hear anymore, and pulls Patrick's pants down over his ass and slides his fingers into Patrick's underwear.

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and moans as Pete slides a finger into him. "F-fuck..."

Pete smirks, rubbing himself lightly.

After a few minutes of one finger, Pete adds another and Patrick's head is pressed up against the table, trying to keep himself quiet. Pete leans forward near Patrick's ear.

"Be quiet, baby...don't want anyone hearing." Patrick can hear the smirk in his voice.

Pete, without much time passing after adding a second finger, pushes in a third finger and Patrick bangs his head on the table, causing Pete to laugh a bit.

"Pete...P-Pete, do some-something."

Pete knows he means touch him, but there's no way he isn't also getting a piece of this.

"Something?" Pete plays dumb.

"Please...Pe-ahhh..." Patrick moans out.

Pete pulls out his fingers, Patrick whining in protest. He goes red more, and gives Pete a 'why the fuck did you stop' then puts his hand down his pants, eyes closed.

What he doesn't see is Pete pulling down his jeans and underwear, his cock springing loose. He gasps, hand pumping a few times and spreading pre-cum around the shaft before looking at Patrick.

He grabs Patrick's hips.

"Pete..? I-what are yo-"

Patrick stops mid-sentence when he gets lifted and slowly dropped onto Pete's cock, Pete pressing his face into Patrick's neck muffling his long moan.

Patrick squeaks at he bottoms out. Pete hushes him, "make anymore noises like that, baby boy, and we'll be in a lot of trouble..." he kisses Patrick's neck.

But Patrick doesn't shut up.

He's gripping the seat behind Pete, his knuckles turning white. He's bouncing himself up and down on Pete's cock and moaning freely.

"Patrick." Pete says sternly because the old lady is stirring in her sleep.

But Patrick either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Pete rolls his eyes and puts his hand over his mouth, the other hand still on his hip.

Muffled whines and whimpers can be heard, along with moans and gasps, Pete groaning quietly.

"I'm-I'm, Pete, m gonna-" Patrick starts.

Pete licks a strip up his neck and with that Patrick cums heavy with rigid breaths.

Pete keeps bucking up, Patrick whimpering from oversensitivity. Pete, with one last muffled moan into Patrick's neck, cums as well.

The two catch their breath for a second. Pete puts his hands under Patrick's thighs and lifts him up, off his soft dick back in the window seat.

They both pull up their boxers and pants, not believing what they just did.

"We just fucked on a subway train." Patrick mutters.

"Yea," Pete looks at Patrick and kisses his cheek, "Yea we did."