Pete Changes Everything
Title: Pete Changes Everything
By: Kendra
Summary: "It's rare that your first love is your true love.....but for Patrick. Well, let's just say he's one of the lucky ones."
Rating: PG-13 for sexual themes.
Notes: I'm really proud of this one, and a fic by freshpickletoad over at her FF.Net account inspired this. Hope you enjoy!
It started as something that never should have. Something that was considered wrong. They were four years apart, and that's not that bad, but he was underage. 15 years old, and still innocent. But that changed the day he met Pete.
Pete was everything that he wanted to be. Strong-willed, and headstrong. Not afraid to take other people's shit. But he was still so kind. And gracious. And perfect. He was so protective of Patrick, even though he had only met him about an hour or two ago.
Kevin, his brother, dragged him to this collage party, and there he was. Standing in the back out the cramped house with a plastic red cup, he was so...so...
Patrick couldn't even think of a word. He just kinda glowed. It, like, entranced him and he trusted every word that came out of that pretty mouth.
And even in a dark, secluded corner, when that mouth was attached to his own, he still trusted him. The rational part of him knew that this was wrong, that he really shouldn't be doing this. But pass the liquor clouded part of his mind, he knew that even if he wasn't drunk, he'd still be making out with him. Patrick's buzz was slowly killed, and replaced with something stronger, when Pete unbuckled his belt.
Patrick knew that he'd regret it the next day, but giving his virginity to the boy, this twenty year old, was the best thing to do.
So that's EXCATLY what he did.
It was nothing but a fuck. All the young ideas about his first time being with the girl he loved slowly flew out the open window of Pete's dorm room. He knew that it would hurt, but the lust and adrenaline dulled it a lot. He remembers Pete's mouth, the smell of alcohol, and the humid summer air. And he remembers the screams of something that promised more.
Screams that seemed to pave the future roads they would travel on.
When he woke up the next morning, laying stark naked and sticky, he bolted. Last night seemed to be a hazy memory that he would force himself to forget, but willed himself not to. There was something more to that night that he didn't wasn’t to except, but he knew that he'd be seeing Pete Wentz soon enough.
And he did. At every street corner, and every store, and every time he turned around. One day, Pete finally pulled him aside. He was walking home from school because Kevin was still grounded from that party Patrick went with him to, when Pete pulled up next to him on the road.
He doesn’t remember what the hell they talked about, but the next thing he knew he was being pushed into the back seat of the parked navy blue SVU, and his pants were at his ankles. He really knew that he should tell Pete to stop, but those damn lips were on his neck again. It was like Pete was claiming him his. Like he was his property.
When it ended and they both had came, Pete drove Patrick home, but before he let the teen get out of the car, he gave Patrick probably the most...gentle kiss he's ever received. Given he's only kissed four people before Pete, this was still the truest one he's been given. Obviously, he blushed like the fifteen year old he was and exited the truck, touching his lips lightly.
They were tingling.
Somehow, Pete found his way into Patrick's room, with the help of the fifty year old oak by his window. At first, Patrick refused to let him in, but Pete insisted that he just wanted to talk. So, being naïve as he was, he let the collage student in. And at first they did just that, but once again, Patrick found himself on his back.
The weirdest thing about them fucking, which it could only be called, he never felt dirty afterwards. He felt like it was the most natural thing in the world. The rational part of him screamed at him telling him that sleeping--no being fucked--by someone five years older than you is not normal. It's not right. It's not normal. It was wrong!
But, after they both came and Patrick was panting and Pete could barely hold himself up, he dropped a small kiss on the younger ones lips.
The rational part of him quieted down real fast.
Of course, the older one didn't stay very long, but he did leave his phone number on the night stand. Patrick laid awake for hours after Pete left, just thinking. All because he went to a fucking collage party he was involved with a boy, lost his virginity to said boy, and it was apparent that he was starting a 'relationship' with the same boy. Before he ever met Pete Wentz he didn't even think he was gay.
Their next meeting, about two days later in a crowded parking lot, Patrick requested that Pete clarify what the hell they were doing. His only response was being pushed roughly against Pete's SUV, and those lips went to work again.
This--the fucking--went on for a while. About a year, if you want to get technical. Then came the day of Patrick's sweet sixteenth. He hated it, because much to his displeasure, he had to spend it with his family rather than his...Pete? What could he call him? 'Boyfriend' wasn't the word, and 'fuck-buddy' was too raw for him.
But that night, everything he knew for the last year fell apart. Because the night, when Pete crept though his window, there was something completely different. It started off...different than all the other times. Given they had talked a lot, about many different things, but what they had wouldn't be classified as a 'relationship'. Like the only reason Patrick knew that Pete would rather have waffles than pancakes in the morning was because his family took a vacation and left him home alone. Pete 'accidentally' spent the whole night, and Patrick cooked for him. And the only reason he knew that half of Pete's lyrics were about him was because he could see it in the words.
Or at least they were about him.
Not that he cared if Pete was seeing someone else, because they were just fucking. A fucks a fuck. There was no emotional attachment. Not that he wanted there to be any. But to say that Patrick nearly didn't start to cry when he thought about someone else with Pete would be a lie.
That night it was...slow. They didn't fuck with the pure lust that they usually did. It was passionate nonetheless, but it was like every thrust was a promise. Every slow push and pull was something...bigger than he thought it was. That what they were doing wasn't fucking. It wasn't even just sex. It was something more. Something bigger than him.
It was like they were making love.
And it kinda made Patrick's stomach flip. Because it was so much better than all the other times. Not saying that all the other times weren't--trust Patrick, they were. It's just that...it was too perfect. HE was too perfect. That night was too perfect. It was almost like Pete was trying to say good-bye.
He cried. After they were done, of course. It would have been embarrassing as hell to start crying while in the middle of something like that. Pete didn't know, because they did what they always did. Pete would fall to Patrick's right, and the younger one would roll to his left. But this time he covered his face and cried silently into his palms. As much as he didn't hated to admit it, he didn't want this to end. He wanted to...he wanted Pete to be his boyfriend. He didn't wasn’t it to end like this. He didn't want his first memory of sex being meaningless, because it didn't. It meant a lot to him.
Then Pete did something that Patrick would have never dreamed of. His arm snaked across his torso, and he was pulled taut against the warm chest behind him. Pete snuggled the nape of Patrick's neck, and whispered 'Happy Sweet Sixteenth'. Patrick leaned into the touch, and he could swear to God that he could hear Pete whisper something before they both fell asleep.
"I'm gonna make damn sure that you can't ever leave."
The next morning Patrick was awoken to the yelp of his mom and the slamming of a door. He didn't really understand what was going on, but he knew that he was warm--really warm--and that blankets don't move. The arm around him tightened, and Patrick jumped from the bed. Pete cracked open an eye, and smiled at him. Pete opened his arms, and Patrick found himself in a soft kiss.
"I think I'll use the front door today," He had whispered against the sixteen year olds lips. The only thing that other could do was nod. He watched numbly as Pete dressed, and opened the door. He threw on some jeans, and watched him go down the stairs.
Pete patted his pockets, then held up a finger. He turned around, and jogged back up the stairs. He smiled that smile--you know the one where his eyes crinkle at the edges. He walked past Patrick, grabbed his keys off of the night stand, and stopped in front of the younger one. Pete put his hand on Patrick's hip, and leaned down, and for a moment he forgot that his parents were watching from downstairs, and Kevin was poking his head out from his room. All he was worried about was Pete.
After the kiss, he smiled that smile again, and walked down the stairs. He nodded at Patrick's parents, who looked shocked beyond belief, and opened the door to leave. Pete looked back, and spoke in a loud voice, one that carried though out the whole quiet house.
"Love you, Patrick."
He swallowed the lump in his throat, and said in a choked whisper.
"Love you, too."
It's rare that your first love is your true love.....but for Patrick. Well, let's just say he's one of the lucky ones.
By: Kendra
Summary: "It's rare that your first love is your true love.....but for Patrick. Well, let's just say he's one of the lucky ones."
Rating: PG-13 for sexual themes.
Notes: I'm really proud of this one, and a fic by freshpickletoad over at her FF.Net account inspired this. Hope you enjoy!
It started as something that never should have. Something that was considered wrong. They were four years apart, and that's not that bad, but he was underage. 15 years old, and still innocent. But that changed the day he met Pete.
Pete was everything that he wanted to be. Strong-willed, and headstrong. Not afraid to take other people's shit. But he was still so kind. And gracious. And perfect. He was so protective of Patrick, even though he had only met him about an hour or two ago.
Kevin, his brother, dragged him to this collage party, and there he was. Standing in the back out the cramped house with a plastic red cup, he was so...so...
Patrick couldn't even think of a word. He just kinda glowed. It, like, entranced him and he trusted every word that came out of that pretty mouth.
And even in a dark, secluded corner, when that mouth was attached to his own, he still trusted him. The rational part of him knew that this was wrong, that he really shouldn't be doing this. But pass the liquor clouded part of his mind, he knew that even if he wasn't drunk, he'd still be making out with him. Patrick's buzz was slowly killed, and replaced with something stronger, when Pete unbuckled his belt.
Patrick knew that he'd regret it the next day, but giving his virginity to the boy, this twenty year old, was the best thing to do.
So that's EXCATLY what he did.
It was nothing but a fuck. All the young ideas about his first time being with the girl he loved slowly flew out the open window of Pete's dorm room. He knew that it would hurt, but the lust and adrenaline dulled it a lot. He remembers Pete's mouth, the smell of alcohol, and the humid summer air. And he remembers the screams of something that promised more.
Screams that seemed to pave the future roads they would travel on.
When he woke up the next morning, laying stark naked and sticky, he bolted. Last night seemed to be a hazy memory that he would force himself to forget, but willed himself not to. There was something more to that night that he didn't wasn’t to except, but he knew that he'd be seeing Pete Wentz soon enough.
And he did. At every street corner, and every store, and every time he turned around. One day, Pete finally pulled him aside. He was walking home from school because Kevin was still grounded from that party Patrick went with him to, when Pete pulled up next to him on the road.
He doesn’t remember what the hell they talked about, but the next thing he knew he was being pushed into the back seat of the parked navy blue SVU, and his pants were at his ankles. He really knew that he should tell Pete to stop, but those damn lips were on his neck again. It was like Pete was claiming him his. Like he was his property.
When it ended and they both had came, Pete drove Patrick home, but before he let the teen get out of the car, he gave Patrick probably the most...gentle kiss he's ever received. Given he's only kissed four people before Pete, this was still the truest one he's been given. Obviously, he blushed like the fifteen year old he was and exited the truck, touching his lips lightly.
They were tingling.
Somehow, Pete found his way into Patrick's room, with the help of the fifty year old oak by his window. At first, Patrick refused to let him in, but Pete insisted that he just wanted to talk. So, being naïve as he was, he let the collage student in. And at first they did just that, but once again, Patrick found himself on his back.
The weirdest thing about them fucking, which it could only be called, he never felt dirty afterwards. He felt like it was the most natural thing in the world. The rational part of him screamed at him telling him that sleeping--no being fucked--by someone five years older than you is not normal. It's not right. It's not normal. It was wrong!
But, after they both came and Patrick was panting and Pete could barely hold himself up, he dropped a small kiss on the younger ones lips.
The rational part of him quieted down real fast.
Of course, the older one didn't stay very long, but he did leave his phone number on the night stand. Patrick laid awake for hours after Pete left, just thinking. All because he went to a fucking collage party he was involved with a boy, lost his virginity to said boy, and it was apparent that he was starting a 'relationship' with the same boy. Before he ever met Pete Wentz he didn't even think he was gay.
Their next meeting, about two days later in a crowded parking lot, Patrick requested that Pete clarify what the hell they were doing. His only response was being pushed roughly against Pete's SUV, and those lips went to work again.
This--the fucking--went on for a while. About a year, if you want to get technical. Then came the day of Patrick's sweet sixteenth. He hated it, because much to his displeasure, he had to spend it with his family rather than his...Pete? What could he call him? 'Boyfriend' wasn't the word, and 'fuck-buddy' was too raw for him.
But that night, everything he knew for the last year fell apart. Because the night, when Pete crept though his window, there was something completely different. It started off...different than all the other times. Given they had talked a lot, about many different things, but what they had wouldn't be classified as a 'relationship'. Like the only reason Patrick knew that Pete would rather have waffles than pancakes in the morning was because his family took a vacation and left him home alone. Pete 'accidentally' spent the whole night, and Patrick cooked for him. And the only reason he knew that half of Pete's lyrics were about him was because he could see it in the words.
Or at least they were about him.
Not that he cared if Pete was seeing someone else, because they were just fucking. A fucks a fuck. There was no emotional attachment. Not that he wanted there to be any. But to say that Patrick nearly didn't start to cry when he thought about someone else with Pete would be a lie.
That night it was...slow. They didn't fuck with the pure lust that they usually did. It was passionate nonetheless, but it was like every thrust was a promise. Every slow push and pull was something...bigger than he thought it was. That what they were doing wasn't fucking. It wasn't even just sex. It was something more. Something bigger than him.
It was like they were making love.
And it kinda made Patrick's stomach flip. Because it was so much better than all the other times. Not saying that all the other times weren't--trust Patrick, they were. It's just that...it was too perfect. HE was too perfect. That night was too perfect. It was almost like Pete was trying to say good-bye.
He cried. After they were done, of course. It would have been embarrassing as hell to start crying while in the middle of something like that. Pete didn't know, because they did what they always did. Pete would fall to Patrick's right, and the younger one would roll to his left. But this time he covered his face and cried silently into his palms. As much as he didn't hated to admit it, he didn't want this to end. He wanted to...he wanted Pete to be his boyfriend. He didn't wasn’t it to end like this. He didn't want his first memory of sex being meaningless, because it didn't. It meant a lot to him.
Then Pete did something that Patrick would have never dreamed of. His arm snaked across his torso, and he was pulled taut against the warm chest behind him. Pete snuggled the nape of Patrick's neck, and whispered 'Happy Sweet Sixteenth'. Patrick leaned into the touch, and he could swear to God that he could hear Pete whisper something before they both fell asleep.
"I'm gonna make damn sure that you can't ever leave."
The next morning Patrick was awoken to the yelp of his mom and the slamming of a door. He didn't really understand what was going on, but he knew that he was warm--really warm--and that blankets don't move. The arm around him tightened, and Patrick jumped from the bed. Pete cracked open an eye, and smiled at him. Pete opened his arms, and Patrick found himself in a soft kiss.
"I think I'll use the front door today," He had whispered against the sixteen year olds lips. The only thing that other could do was nod. He watched numbly as Pete dressed, and opened the door. He threw on some jeans, and watched him go down the stairs.
Pete patted his pockets, then held up a finger. He turned around, and jogged back up the stairs. He smiled that smile--you know the one where his eyes crinkle at the edges. He walked past Patrick, grabbed his keys off of the night stand, and stopped in front of the younger one. Pete put his hand on Patrick's hip, and leaned down, and for a moment he forgot that his parents were watching from downstairs, and Kevin was poking his head out from his room. All he was worried about was Pete.
After the kiss, he smiled that smile again, and walked down the stairs. He nodded at Patrick's parents, who looked shocked beyond belief, and opened the door to leave. Pete looked back, and spoke in a loud voice, one that carried though out the whole quiet house.
"Love you, Patrick."
He swallowed the lump in his throat, and said in a choked whisper.
"Love you, too."
It's rare that your first love is your true love.....but for Patrick. Well, let's just say he's one of the lucky ones.