FIC: How Andy Spent His Easter
Title: How Andy Spent His Easter.
Characters: Andy Hurley/Patrick Stump
Prompt: #53--And
Word Count: 444
Rating: PG-13 for smooching, Hugh Hefner, and one of the seven words you can't say on television.
Summary: Maybe going to Las Vegas isn't what Jesus would do...
Hanging his head and sighing, Andy quickly turned the doorknob and entered the apartment, putting his heavy carry-on bag near the assorted pairs of shoes by the door. Toeing off his own, he rubbed his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen, grabbing a soda.
“Trick? Baby?” he called tentatively, searching the apartment. He tilted his head into the large bedroom, finding Patrick in bed, wrapped in his blue robe, propped up against a few pillows reading. Stepping into the room, Andy bit his lip, making eye contact with Patrick over the book.
Patrick closed the book, placed it on the glass bedside table by his PowerMac, folded his hands in his lap, tilted his head to the side and smiled.
Andy cringed.
“You saw it, didn’t you?”
Nod.
“Um, I’m sorry I let Pete convince me into going to a Playboy party in Las Vegas.”
Patrick cocked an eyebrow, his forehead speaking directly to Andy; And? Andy tapped his fingers against the soda can, still looking into Patrick’s eyes.
“And I’m sorry I asked a few Playmates if I could prove to Pete that I could feel the difference between real breasts and fake breasts.”
The eyebrow was still up, still questioning, and?
“And I’m sorry I put bunny ears on and hopped around asking people if they had carrots in their pants for me.”
Eyebrow. Andy licked his lips and took a sip of soda.
“And I’m sorry I sat in Hugh Hefner’s lap and kissed him on the cheek.”
Eyebrow. Andy sighed.
“And I feel really sorry for Pete.”
Patrick knit his eyebrows. “Why for him?”
“Because,” Andy replied, setting his can on the dresser as he walked over to the bed, “now that I know that he wasn’t joking when he said he was filming me with his phone and sending it to everyone in his address book, I’m going to kill him.” He sat on the edge of the bed, looking over at Patrick and biting his lip. “Forgive me?”
Patrick sighed heavily, scooting over and opening his arms, making Andy smile and curl into him. Draping his arms around Andy’s shoulders, he kissed his temple. “I was never mad at you, silly. But if that makes it onto The Girls Next Door, I’m never letting you live it down.”
Stifling a chuckle, Andy leaned up and placed a kiss on Patrick’s jaw. “Deal.”
Later, when they had settled for the night, Patrick smiled as Andy wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled his head into the back of Patrick’s neck. Grabbing Andy’s wrist, he placed Andy's hand on his chest.
“Hey, are my tits real or fake?”
Characters: Andy Hurley/Patrick Stump
Prompt: #53--And
Word Count: 444
Rating: PG-13 for smooching, Hugh Hefner, and one of the seven words you can't say on television.
Summary: Maybe going to Las Vegas isn't what Jesus would do...
Hanging his head and sighing, Andy quickly turned the doorknob and entered the apartment, putting his heavy carry-on bag near the assorted pairs of shoes by the door. Toeing off his own, he rubbed his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen, grabbing a soda.
“Trick? Baby?” he called tentatively, searching the apartment. He tilted his head into the large bedroom, finding Patrick in bed, wrapped in his blue robe, propped up against a few pillows reading. Stepping into the room, Andy bit his lip, making eye contact with Patrick over the book.
Patrick closed the book, placed it on the glass bedside table by his PowerMac, folded his hands in his lap, tilted his head to the side and smiled.
Andy cringed.
“You saw it, didn’t you?”
Nod.
“Um, I’m sorry I let Pete convince me into going to a Playboy party in Las Vegas.”
Patrick cocked an eyebrow, his forehead speaking directly to Andy; And? Andy tapped his fingers against the soda can, still looking into Patrick’s eyes.
“And I’m sorry I asked a few Playmates if I could prove to Pete that I could feel the difference between real breasts and fake breasts.”
The eyebrow was still up, still questioning, and?
“And I’m sorry I put bunny ears on and hopped around asking people if they had carrots in their pants for me.”
Eyebrow. Andy licked his lips and took a sip of soda.
“And I’m sorry I sat in Hugh Hefner’s lap and kissed him on the cheek.”
Eyebrow. Andy sighed.
“And I feel really sorry for Pete.”
Patrick knit his eyebrows. “Why for him?”
“Because,” Andy replied, setting his can on the dresser as he walked over to the bed, “now that I know that he wasn’t joking when he said he was filming me with his phone and sending it to everyone in his address book, I’m going to kill him.” He sat on the edge of the bed, looking over at Patrick and biting his lip. “Forgive me?”
Patrick sighed heavily, scooting over and opening his arms, making Andy smile and curl into him. Draping his arms around Andy’s shoulders, he kissed his temple. “I was never mad at you, silly. But if that makes it onto The Girls Next Door, I’m never letting you live it down.”
Stifling a chuckle, Andy leaned up and placed a kiss on Patrick’s jaw. “Deal.”
Later, when they had settled for the night, Patrick smiled as Andy wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled his head into the back of Patrick’s neck. Grabbing Andy’s wrist, he placed Andy's hand on his chest.
“Hey, are my tits real or fake?”