Title: I'm at this old hotel, but can't tell if I've been breathing or sleeping
Summary: We're going down, down in an earlier round; And sugar we're going down swinging; I'll be your number one with a bullet; A loaded god complex; cock it and pull it
Pairing: Gerard/Patrick with a side of Pete because how can you not have at least a side of Pete
Rating: Totally PG-13ish because I suck like that.
There was something that fascinated Gerard about the lead singer of Fall Out Boy, not that he had any intention of telling anyone that because there were enough rumors about all of their sexual orientations, thank you very much, and he really wasn't one that wanted to fuel that fire.
At least right now because granted, been there.
Pete Wentz, on the other hand, really liked to fuel that fire. On stage, off stage, on the internet and with his very being, if Gerard was honest. Pete was always on.
Gerard sighed, that would fucking exhaust him. Did. Jesus, he was getting old.
So when Patrick showed up at the My Chem bus after their set, Gerard just flung the door open and told him to come in.
"Hiding out, again?"
Gerard shook his head, picking his coffee up and sticking it the microwave. "Not this time. Just. I needed to be off. Escape into my head for a while."
Patrick stopped awkwardly in the middle of sitting down on the couch and stood back up. "Um, I should go then."
"It's all right." When Patrick didn't sit back down, Gerard continued, "Seriously. Sit."
The silence stretched. Gerard was starting to like silence; it was something he rarely got any longer. Screaming, yes, silence, not so much. But when Patrick started fidgeting, Gerard took a sip of his reheated coffee and asked, "so, what brings you by?"
"Oh, um, that's a good question."
"Awesome, I was bound to ask one eventually. I could be an interviewer. That question rocked so much harder than any question about my hair."
Patrick chuckled a little at that. Gerard knew he was becoming even more famous for his hair than his music.
"I just. Well, I just wanted to say hi because we haven't really been in the same place for a while and well—"
"Yeah, Mikey was all kinds of pissed that we didn't hit Florida the same weekend."
Patrick just nodded. "We just needed a break, you know."
"Better than you think," Gerard muttered under his breath.
"Nothing. Sorry, I keep interrupting. I'm really chatty today, apparently. This is strange." Gerard's gaze kind of went out of focus as he focused on this revelation. He could see Patrick tilt his head to the side in a blurry sort of way. That too was pretty interesting. Really all sorts of things about this boy were captivating. His voice was just the kicker. Didn't really shed any light on the whole chattiness thing, though. "Hey, would you guest on our next album?"
"No. Yes. Not really. We're always writing." Gerard motioned to the back of the bus. "We need to. I need to."
"Get it all out. Yeah, I get that. Pete needs to as well. I should really talk to him."
"Oh, sure, sorry to keep you."
Patrick sucked in a breath. "Oh, no! No. About being a guest on your next album. He'd throw a fit because you didn't ask him first, but he'd get over it."
"You're the voice for them. I'm the vocalist for us. If Pete wants to play bass he really needs to take that up with Mikey. And maybe Ray."
Patrick chuckled again. Gerard decided that he liked the sound of that. It was so normal compared to his own strange laugh. Pretty much all of my chem had strange laughs if he thought about it.
"I guess that makes sense."
"Yeah, people pretty much get caught up in the strangeness that is me on stage and stick to that. We all make the music."
Patrick nods. "That's awesome. Really. And I'd love to, but really, I'd want to talk to Pete about it first."
Three weeks off. What the fuck was he supposed to do for three weeks in Jersey. Alone. Because everyone was fucking married. It sucked in all sorts of ways, Gerard decided. He'd decided that a while ago actually, but just never mentioned it. You didn't do things like that to your brothers and Frank was really as much his brother as Mikey.
Traitors. Both of them. It was a shame that he loved them as much as he did. Really, it was.
There was a knock on his hotel room door. He really needed to consider buying that house. The hotel thing was getting old. Maybe he'd go home to his basement. It was dark there.
The last thing he ever expected to see was PeteandPatrick standing in the hallway.
It was most certainly PeteandPatrick and not Pete and Patrick. They looked—
"What the fuck is with couples these days? They're springing up all over the place like weeds."
"I'd consider apologizing," Pete declared as he pulled Patrick through the door, "but I wouldn't mean it, so why bother."
"Sure come on in."
Gerard crooked an eyebrow. "And you shouldn't make excuses. I mean that. I don't let any of my band mates do that and there are times that I assure you they would love to make excuses for the shit I pull."
"See, we're really two sides of the same coin." Pete plopped himself down on Gerard's bed.
Gerard didn't bother answering, just looked at Patrick.
"The album. About the singing."
"Didn't I say that he should talk to Mikey?"
"Mikey said, 'fuck no, asshole, you've got your own band.'" Pete's smile was so wide that it blinded Gerard for a second. "I'm just along for the ride because Patrick here is my life partner."
"Like I said, exuberant. You get used to him after a while. A really long while."
Patrick's smile was all sorts of nice as well, Gerard decided. Not in the blinding kind of way that Pete's was, but in the punch to the gut kind of way. The kind that Gerard really liked.
"Fucking couples." He really needed to kick the muttering habit Gerard decided seeing Patrick's crestfallen face.
"I… I didn't think that it—"
"Gerard's just being a fucking moron. Ignore him. Tell Patrick that you're just being a fucking moron, Gee."
There was an edge to Pete's voice that Gerard wouldn't have expected except he had. It had always been there. Would always be there. Especially when it came to Patrick.
"I'm just being a fucking moron. Really. He's right."
Patrick didn't look like he believed him. Gerard couldn't blame him.
"Good, now kiss and make up."
Pete bounced a little on the edge of the bed. "You heard me. Kiss and make up. It'd be really fucking hot. I demand that you bend to my demands."
Gerard stood there for a second staring at Pete. The glint in his eyes was bordering on insane, but at the same time there was the dare there.
"Well, I have been known to steal boyfriends." And before Patrick could even open his mouth to ask what he meant by that, Gerard had settled his lips firmly over Patrick's.
It really wasn't fair how soft Patrick's lips were when his own were perpetually chapped, but really in the grand scheme of things when it came to kissing that didn't matter much because, fuck, this had to be the best kiss that Gerard had had in a while. Patrick's hands clutched at Gerard's arms, holding him in place almost as if he'd been the one to initiate the kiss, not Gerard, but that was ok because Gerard was kind of lost in the feel of their tongues sliding against each other and the soft snuffling breaths hanging between them.
Gerard pulled away for a moment and looked into Patrick's eyes. They were heavy lidded and only a hint of the hazel was showing. Fuck it, how many chances like this would Gerard get. He bent his head, claiming those lips again. Letting his tongue run along them before slipping inside Patrick's mouth and repeating the whole intense thing all over again.
Pete's muttered "fuck" brought them out of it this time, and it was then that realization dawned in Gerard's brain. He was fucking slow. He'd just kissed Patrick, twice. Patrick of PeteandPatrick. In front of Pete of the same. Yeah, he was smart.
Unfortunately for Gerard, there really wasn't anywhere that he could go.
"See, aren't you glad that you made up?"
Gerard was just looking at Pete. So when Patrick pulled Gerard's lips back to his there was the moment of surprise followed by the moment of "well, if I'm going to die, there could be worse ways to go."
Of course this would have been followed by a moment of level-headedness if Patrick hadn't slipped his hand under the edge of Gerard shirt and skimmed it along his stomach. There was no way this kid was in his early twenties. It just wasn't allowed because Gerard really didn't want to feel fucking old right now. Fuck it. Fuck it all because this was just fucking incredible.
"Patrick is supposed to be telling you that he really would like to sing on the next album, and if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, I'm sure that he'd say so himself."
Gerard turned his head away and stared blearily at Pete who had that blinding smile on his face again. What the fuck was going on? He turned to Patrick who had stepped back and was looking at Pete with a questioning gaze.
"I think that we've fucked with his head enough for one day."
"I wasn't… You know that—" Patrick broke off and turned back to Gerard. "It wasn't… I wasn't fucking with you. You need to know that. Him," he jerked his thumb at Pete, "he fucks with everyone, but I… I just don't. Okay." He leaned over and brushed his lips over Gerard's again. "We'd stay, but we're actually supposed to be in New York, not Jersey, but I wanted to see you and tell you that I do want to sing on the next record, and when you're ready, to give me a call."
Pete stood. "Though he really wants you to call earlier than that. For more of this. And more beyond this. And maybe even without me keeping an eye on you to make sure that you don't fuck with my life partner unless he wants to be fucked with. Got it?"
Pete smushed his lips against Gerard's quickly before pulling back and dragging Patrick to the door. "Seriously, we were supposed to be in the city hours ago. I really got to stop giving in to this kid's every whim."
After the door shut, Gerard sat down on the edge of the bed that Pete had just been occupying.
Could his life ever be further from normal than it already was? Obviously not, and at that moment, Gerard wouldn't trade in his fucked up, far from normal life for anything really. Except for maybe Patrick's number, but really wasn't it all part of the same?
MCR - Heaven Help Us
MCR - Kill All Your Friends
FOB - Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner (acoustic)
Have the best birthday ever!