Alpha Dogs

Introduction

Pete was a good actor, good enough to pretend that he didn't notice the stares. But he did notice the stares; and he certainly noticed the person that was staring. It's not that he minded, but he knew that if he were to catch them staring the person would be beyond embarrassed. And Pete wasn't one for making him embarrassed.

He had met Patrick a little over 3 months ago. Over the period of time Pete had grown used to it - the blond hair hidden by varying hats, the glasses that sat on his broad nose, the eyes that Pete didn't know the color of, the unbelievably shorter-than-Pete height, the staring. For over 3 months now Pete had been stared at and for 3 months he pretended he didn't notice.

It's not like one could blame Patrick; what with Pete's dark looks. Dark brown eyes, tan tattooed body with a slight yet sturdy build, 1000-watt smile, adorably short heigth, and black bangs that swept across his forehead. Pete Wentz was gorgeous and Patrick would have to be blind not to notice. And stare...

Joe Trohman was the guitarist with a wild dark brown Afro and a milk white complexion. It had been his idea to have a band meeting before the show. Andy Hurley was the drummer, and his roommate, and he could hardly object.

"This Ain't A Scene." Pete says in his incredibly deep voice that gives Patrick shivers as well as something else...

"Sounds good." Andy says tossing his long brown hair behind him, pushing up his glasses, and collecting a drumstick, one in each hand.

"1..2..1,2,3,4." Andy calls out. Pete hits the first chord and they're off.

"I am an army's dealer, fitting you with weapons in the form of words. Yeah, don't really care, which side wins. As long as the room keeps singing that's just the business I'm in..."

Pete was the bassist, lyricist, and backup singer. How he could be so gorgeous and talented at the same time was beyond Patrick. And it continued to puzzle him as he sang. The lyrics were familiar, but they tasted foreign in his mouth. However, the moment Pete's voice combined with his own, Patrick felt they belonged. To them.

Joe was almost as good an actor as Pete. He pretended that he didn't notice the way his singer and bassist acted around each other. Or maybe he didn't have to pretend. Because maybe he was too caught up in the drummer to pay attention to anybody else.

Joe and Andy had been friends for a while now. Long enough to outdo Pete and Patrick, but not long enough to have survived a year. And yet Joe knew Andy better than Andy knew himself. That's why as he watched from the corner of his eye, he knew the drummer would forget his place and beat the snare in the wrong moment. He knew before it reached his ears and maybe that's why he placed his fingers wrong.

There it was. Joe Trohman had purposely hit the wrong chord. Yet the song went on. That's what was so great about them. They never stopped mid-song when someone messed up. They didn't correct their mistakes. They added them in. They were artists with their instruments and sheet music. And no artist does the same thing twice.

"Thnks Fr Th Mmrs." Pete said when the song had ended.

"I'm gonna make you bend and break, say a prayer and let the good times roll, incase God doesn't show.." Patrick sang immediately.

*-*-*-*-*

Pete wasn't the aggressive type. He would never even consider hitting a woman or another man; unless provoked by said man. He did however like it rough. You know the casual pulling of his hair and the occasional scratches down his back. And he certainly liked tight grips and even the light bite and nip here and there. And as he stood gazing at Patrick he couldn't help but imagine that Patrick liked that stuff - and would do that with/to him - too.

Patrick wasn't a virgin - despite what many thought. He knew what he was doing though he knew he wasn't as experienced as the gorgeous man to his right. But despite having less practice, Patrick knew what to do and how to do it. He knew that girls liked it slow, tender, passionate - as if it were a dance of love. He knew that though the urge for a quicker speed was great, taking things slow was even greater. Anna and *Claire* had taught him that, and though they were both girls he couldn't stop himself from wondering if Pete would like it the same way. Sweet, gentle, tender, passionate, slow, and full of love.

Joe didn't have to imagine anything, he knew exactly how Andy like it. Not that he was the one doing it. No, one warm summer night the two had drank their weight in alcohol, fell into a on versatile about -well the obvious- and confessed how they performed behind closed doors. Now 5 months later Joe knew every little detail of how Andy liked it, and he could recite his plan on how he'd give it to Andy. Every movement, every caress, every nip, touch, suck, and grip was etched in his mind. The imagined images on slideshow mode. Yes, Joe knew exactly how Andy liked it. The problem was when he was going to give it to him.

But none of them could worry about any of that right now. No they had more pressing matters right now. And they just happened to be that they were performing in less than 3 minutes. They could worry and imagine and plan later. Their fans were waiting. Just like Andy was waiting for Joe.

The concert wasn't long. Just 3 hours. And yet to the guys it took forever. It seemed days until Rey were finally back on the tour bus. Pete automatically collapsed on the couch. Joe took to the armchair and Andy hurried into the bathroom. Patrick, having only been there for a little over 3 months, awkwardly stood in the middle of the room. He often felt like he didn't belong with this group of buds. They were all so close, and then he came along. But then the music started playing and those feelings he had suppressed themselves. At least until they got back to the tour bus, and once again Patrick felt like an intruder.

Pete noticed that Patrick was standing, as he often did. It seemed an everyday thing with him on your. He acted out of place, as if an outcast. But weren't they all outcasts? Joe with his twisted and unbelievable fantasy and humor. Andy with a troubling past constructed by his family. Pete with his - well everything. From his past to his present to his future, Pete was fucked up. And he knew that the second before he decided to end Patrick's misery.

"Hey Trick, why don't you kick back. Take a load off?" Pete asks gesturing to the space on the couch he had created by siting up. Shakily Patrick sat down careful to keep his distance.

Joe watched the two with a bored expression. No progress - still. These two were so bland; they both want each other but are too chicken shit to do anything about it. Sounds familiar. But Joe ignores the lingering thought and decides to end his boredom. He went to go find Andy.

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Yet another story I'm writing. Alpha Dogs. This story is dedicated to my fan @rockthatsmurf . I am extremely sorry it took this long for me to write this. I hope you all enjoy.

Comment/vote/fan

Kay? Thanks. Bai!