They'll tear us apart (Prologue)
Title: They'll tear us apart
Author: blessthesparrow
Pairing: Patrick Stump/Bert McCracken
Rating: pg…Not even.
POV: 3rd person
Summary: Patrick likes everything clean. Well, almost everything.
Disclaimer: This isn’t real.
Beta: mcrkittie27
Patrick is a neat freak, anyone who has been to his apartment can tell you that. He cleans at least twice a day, going through his entire living quarters when he first wakes up and then again before he goes to bed. He checks each room, carefully looking for any imperfections.
Every piece of furniture he owns is white. His walls are painted white, and his kitchen is nothing but stainless steel & white tile. Patrick could tell if anything was out of place just by walking into a room. So when he came home from Pete’s, and his door had a greasy smudge on the knob, he knew something was up.
There was a McDonald's cup sitting on his island, the sweat leaving marks on the white tile. Beside it was a crumple pack of cigarettes, with tobacco falling out of the half way opened top. There was a dirty ripped shirt thrown over the back of his couch, and a rugged pair of sneakers in his hall.
A little ways down was a pair of camo shorts bundled up. He ventured down the hall, only to find a pair of socks dangling over his doorknob of his bedroom. He pushed open his bedroom door, and was greeted with a pair of plaid boxers hitting him right in the face.
“Hey sexy.” The manic grin made Patrick queasy and turned on at the same time.
“Why did I give him a key?” Patrick mumbled to himself looking up, before walking over to join Bert in the middle of his bed.
Author: blessthesparrow
Pairing: Patrick Stump/Bert McCracken
Rating: pg…Not even.
POV: 3rd person
Summary: Patrick likes everything clean. Well, almost everything.
Disclaimer: This isn’t real.
Beta: mcrkittie27
Patrick is a neat freak, anyone who has been to his apartment can tell you that. He cleans at least twice a day, going through his entire living quarters when he first wakes up and then again before he goes to bed. He checks each room, carefully looking for any imperfections.
Every piece of furniture he owns is white. His walls are painted white, and his kitchen is nothing but stainless steel & white tile. Patrick could tell if anything was out of place just by walking into a room. So when he came home from Pete’s, and his door had a greasy smudge on the knob, he knew something was up.
There was a McDonald's cup sitting on his island, the sweat leaving marks on the white tile. Beside it was a crumple pack of cigarettes, with tobacco falling out of the half way opened top. There was a dirty ripped shirt thrown over the back of his couch, and a rugged pair of sneakers in his hall.
A little ways down was a pair of camo shorts bundled up. He ventured down the hall, only to find a pair of socks dangling over his doorknob of his bedroom. He pushed open his bedroom door, and was greeted with a pair of plaid boxers hitting him right in the face.
“Hey sexy.” The manic grin made Patrick queasy and turned on at the same time.
“Why did I give him a key?” Patrick mumbled to himself looking up, before walking over to join Bert in the middle of his bed.