Patrick’s aggravated moan was subtle, low enough that even someone on the other side of the room wouldn’t be able to hear, besides Pete.
They barely ever got one on one time in the studio.
Wentz had been talking about it more recently, sending his band mate emails and texts about the daydream set in the location. Everything from creating the images of himself sucking Patrick off while either one of them sat in the producer’s chair to dry humping him over the soundboard.
The album was inches from being finished, only needing last touch ups and a few tweaks. A long half a year spent on just the raw material and if Andy and Joe hadn’t just called it a night Pete would be hardore whining about needing a nap.
Patrick asked Pete for his opinion on the remainder of vocals he needed to record from the other side of the glass, not being happy with the way his voice was relaying that afternoon.
“Sounds like my favorite thing ever.” Pete reassured, non amusement ringing through the statement.
He listened to the range in his voice, every note plus the look of pure determination to him them just as they sound in his head was distracting Pete from playing the producer’s little helper. Patrick let out a frustrated sound that made Pete’s eyes go wide. The sound made his state official, but he shot a look down to his lap to be certain.
Pete jumped out of the chair so fast it almost spun two whole times. The doors were opened without bothering to be closed and he entered the room of his friend, pushing him into the nearest wall.
“Pete, no.” The breath was knocked out of Patrick. “I have to finish this. Later, okay?”
Pete didn’t even consider waiting for this much longer.
“Oh, no. Later is now.” The bassist dove into the vocalist’s neck, kissing down once right above the collar of his blue t-shirt. Pete sucked the skin into his mouth with a rhythm that would leave brutal marks. Pete’s hands were just about to corner him, with one hand pressed up on the wall behind his head when Patrick forced him off, almost causing him to fall back on the hard floor.
But, Patrick wasn’t about to stop him from this. Not today when they had such a perfect opportunity.
“You’re a pussy. A fucking pussy. No one’s going to show up in here. So, stop..” Pete started to move back into his personal space.
“Goddammit. It’s not about someone walking in. I have fucking work to finish. Deal with the fact that just maybe you don’t have the ability to just.. look at me and put me in the mood to have a sex fest in the middle of the studio.”
Pete started searching before Patrick finished his attempt at proving a point, looking around for something that would keep him where he wanted him. The guitar cable connected to his bass caught his eye, almost like it had a haze of light around it as it sat beside Patrick’s feet.
Three minutes later, Patrick’s wrists were tied together as well as his ankles and he was slammed down on the couch, slouching so his back was on the seat cushions . Pete stood over him, smiling and unbuttoning his bright jeans despite all of his best friend’s threats.
“Fuck you, man. Try to tell me you aren’t getting hot, and actually mean it.” His smirk went crooked, still showing enough of his teeth to make him look anything but innocent. Pete rested his knees on the couch with one hand pressing his weight down on Patrick’s shoulder. He removed himself from his clothing, using his other hand to stroke himself.
"Tell me you don’t want to.”
“I don’t-"
Patrick’s mouth did not stay open for a full second before Pete guided his dick all the way in his mouth, making him nearly gag from how sudden it was.
The guitarist’s lips closed in on the organ, sucking it back into his mouth when Pete would pull away from his face. He moaned in between sliding his tongue around and Pete swore he would be deceased by the time he came. The bassist fucked into Patrick’s face fast, holding him steady by the hold he had on his jawline.
He looked up at him. Pete could never get any of his exgirlfriends to swallow (punny) their pride and do that for him. Patrick did and he did it while also bound, pissed and Pete now had an erection poking from underneath him.
Pete came with a flood of whines, his hands gripping Patrick’s hair with himself pushed as far back into the mouth as he could, and the repitition of his friend’s name echoing. His ears popped and the sounds Patrick was making as he took in the liquid was muffled.
Just as quick as he finished, Pete’s lips were in Patrick’s ear. “You’re not getting any of this. You didn’t want it, right?” He smiled and got up, pulling his jeans back into place and buttoning them slow and properly.
Patrick was pulled up to stand on the floor by his arms. Pete untied him, his laughter not stopping until Patrick turned him around without warning. Pete was slammed in return on the arm of the couch, Patrick’s clothed erection hitting him from behind.
“and you’re not getting this. Not anytime soon, Wentz.”
A few more times Patrick pushed almost into him through the denim before he punched the back of Pete’s arm and stormed out without his things.
