peterick smut//br41n v0m1t

emo b0y wantz 2 cum more than he wants 2 die

smut,,,,,,,i wrote this while i was high so like,,,,,,lmao its wack as shit, no tenticles so srry katie

Whoever said a dog is mans best friend never had a bubble bath after being on a bus with a bunch of other sweaty, angsty musicians at a hot and sweaty summer music festival. But, if Patrick were to tell the rest of his band mates that a bath with fruity salts and sugary bath soaps was better than a canine best friend, he'd get kicked out. He's pretty sure that Pete's love for him is only topped by his love for his dog. Lucky bastard. Patrick isn't jealous of a creature that licks it's own ass and eats it's own shit....well maybe a little bit. 

Patrick's bath lasts an hour, letting his body detox from the stressful and very, very hot weekend. When he says hot, he means hundred degree weather at a music festival. Fucking sweltering. The band was also forced by Pete to have flame throwers during their set, and not wanting to make him sad, the band agreed. Bad idea, Patrick's sure his epidermis melted off. The singer grabs a towel, the smell of lavender and hotel shampoo almost puffs out of the steamy bathroom as he leaves the bathroom.

"That smells good." A very familiar voice says from the bed, some Comedy Central show playing in the background. Of corse, as anyone would guess, Pete Wentz was sitting criss-cross on the crisp, white, hotel sheets. A classic grin resting on his stupid, stupid, handsome, stupid face.

"Jesus Christ Pete, the hell are you doing in my room?" Patrick gasps, rolling his eyes so far back in his head he could see what he has left for a brain after spending seven years with Joe and Pete.

"Oh, you already know." He smirks, almost too stereotypical of what you can find with a quick Porn.Hub search. Patrick swallows, looking down. He wants to kill the older, he could hide his body pretty easily by putting his cut-up body in the hotel safe...Pete was short.  "I came to watch Ghostbusters!" He beams, almost like he didn't know what he had just implied. Almost disappointed he wasn't going to get his organs rearranged, Patrick forces a 'relived' smile. "What did you think I was gonna say?" Pete raises an eyebrow.

"N...Nothing, just confused on how you got in here and how I didn't hear you during my bath. You're pretty hard to miss." Patrick's arms cross over his bare chest, a white towel still rapped around his waist.

"Asked the desk for your key, told them I was your brother." Patrick looks at Pete's darker skin, his dark hair and then down at his pale skin, almost the color of the fucking sun, and if one could look at their own eyes he would, but he has baby, baby blue eyes. Oh, and the fact he's a blonde bordering on ginger. He's so glad he's not a ginger.

"So'll they let anyone up into my room...fantastic." Patrick starts to think about how easily a serial killer could enter his room, but having Pete Wentz sneak in while you are naked to watch a movie would be worse. Patrick grabs his suitcase, pulling a fresh pair of boxers and the same god damn black skinny jeans he wears every day. The only ones that do his ass justice, according to Joe. 

Pete notices Patrick getting ready to change, and he's suddenly a blushing virgin. "I...I can turn around...Or you can go to the bathroom...if you want." He babbles, right as Patrick drops the towel to put on the navy blue boxers right in front of the bassist. 

"Nothing you haven't seen before." Patrick shrugs, pulling the boxers up his thighs and over his amazing hips. He was right, there was basically nothing he hasn't seen before. 

Pete nods, pulling the DVD out of the case and puts it in the DVD player. Patrick finishing getting dressed and the pair settle down on their respected sides of the queen sized bed. Pete loves it that Patrick can quote all of the movie, almost word for word. The singer was a nerd, a ghost nerd, and Pete ate that shit up. Nothing was more attractive than a dude that had an obsession with film.