I was in maths when I wrote this and I was supposed to be working on an excel spreadsheet but fuck that cause I’ve been wanting to write this for a while so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
@pmvstump this one’s for you, kid. (And me feeding into what might be a neck thing of my own hdgklssrdtgjhl)
Taken (by my own choice) from prompt 20 of the drabble challenge.
20. “D..did you just make that noise?”
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Patrick was panting.
He was pressed up against a wall by Pete, whose hands were travelling over his hips and under his shirt and barely gliding over his jeans, and he was panting.
The bassist had a thigh wedged between the vocalist’s legs, greatly relishing the fact that the younger man was weakly thrusting his hips against it.
They had been a band for a couple of years now, but even as Pete had watched the former seventeen year old grow and change, he knew that he could still briefly reduce his outspoken, spunky personality to a lust-filled, needy one.
“You’re so gorgeous, Tricky,” Pete crooned in Patrick’s ear, leaning forward to nip at it slightly.
The contact made Patrick roll up his hips and gasp softly, the blush on his cheeks complementing his dark strawberry-blond hair. His shirt was pushed up slightly, wrinkled into Pete’s fist and exposing some of his soft belly.
“You still haven’t changed much,” Pete continued, rubbing his thigh up against Patrick’s crotch slightly. “I bet I could still make you come in your jeans.” He pressed a kiss to the younger man’s jaw, then another, covering his jawline in open-mouthed kisses that made the vocalist squirm and pant and groan.
And then-
And then, Pete dipped his head, pulling on Patrick’s soft hair to tilt his head back, and pressed a particularly hungry kiss on his neck, just on his pulse point-
And Patrick keened.
"Unnhhh, Pete!” His hips rocked forward, and his long-lashed eyes fluttered shut as the soft, desperate, lust-filled whine left his pretty pink lips.
Pete stared at him, eyes wide, grabby hands temporarily pausing. “D...Did you just make that noise?”
The soft blush on Patrick’s cheeks flared up even more, and his blue eyes met Pete’s dark brown ones nervously. “Maybe..?”
Pete groaned. “Fuck, Trick, that was so hot.” He pulled away briefly to look at the younger man. Patrick’s cap was skewed slightly on his head, off-balanced and making him look more flustered. It shadowed his eyes, making his pupils grow wide with darkness dilation and lust. “Do you have a neck thing?” Pete’s voice was darker, huskier.
Patrick’s lower lip caught between his teeth as he stared up at Pete through his lashes in an oh-so-heart-melting way. “I mean, I-I guess I’ve never really thought-thought about it?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, the singer might have tried to think about if he’d ever had a particular like for neck kisses or bites, but his mind was too fogged up, clouded with thoughts of oh, fuck and more and touch me and Pete. Always Pete.
Pete smirked, pressing a kiss to Patrick’s pulse again and drinkinng in his shuddery gasp. His mouth opened, hot and wet against the skin, and he began to suck at the area.
One of Patrick’s hands flew up and gently knotted itself in Pete’s black locks, his hips beginning to stutter against the bassist’s thigh again.
Pete smiled against Patrick’s neck to himself, before opening his mouth again and licking a hot, wet stripe up his neck to his jaw.
And ordinarily, it might have been gross, and ordinarily Patrick might have yelled or pushed Pete away, but this was certainly not an ordinary scenario, and all Patrick could do was mewl helplessly and let Pete take control.
The older man experimentally nipped at the light skin of Patrick’s neck, before taking it into his mouth and sucking again. And again, and again, until he pulled away and proudly grinned at the purple and red bruises blooming on the pale skin like watercolour drops on paper. He presses a final open-mouthed kiss to the dip of Patrick’s collarbones-
And that was it. Patrick whined softly, fingers tightening around Pete’s raven hair, and his hips rocked rougly against his thigh for another three heartbeats, and then his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped into Pete’s arms.
Pete smiled victoriously, before it turned into a more caring one. He wrapped his arms around Patrick supportively, and took off his cap, placing it over his own head. “You alright, lunchbox?”
Patrick giggled slightly, mind still high up in the clouds. “You have a good mouth.”










