Fandom: Bandom (Fall Out Boy)
Pairing: Pete/Patrick, Patrick/Unnamed Male Character (Off-screen)
Warnings: Sex hotline, dirty talk
Word Count: 1,317
Notes: written for the panfandom "working hard for the money" sex industry meme. First bandom thing of any substance. Major thanks to dr_jasley for everything. She holds my hand when I think I'm a faily fail in bandom writing. <3
Prompt: Early days, the band need money to tour. Patrick makes it by selling his... nope, not his body. His voice. Because turns out that it's not just good for singing, but it's also extremely good for talking dirty on the phone sex line. Pete finds out. Inevitable ensues.
Summary: What the prompt says.
Pete watches and observes Patrick a little bit more than most would consider normal for friends, but that's okay. Pete and Patrick have never been normal friends anyway and being crammed together in a van with two other dudes means any hint of normalcy went out the window a long time ago.
So Pete watches and observes and sometimes even keeps notes on Patrick, though he'll never let anyone know because that might be pushing it a bit, even for them.
Of course Pete notices the increased amount of phone calls that Patrick's been getting recently and how he blushes when he looks down at the screen, sometimes frowning or biting his bottom lip. Pete really wants to bite that lip too. It just looks so bitable. Pete's got issues, he knows. It's totally fine though.
He also notices that Patrick never talks to whoever is on the other line in front of them. He always makes sure the calls come in when they're at a rest stop or at the venue or at the motel, so he can walk away from them and glare at anyone who tries to follow and listen in on the conversation.
Pete isn't stealthy by any stretch of the imagination; everyone knows that Andy's the real ninja of the group, but that doesn't stop him from following Patrick one day, curiosity begging to be sated. He really needs to know who Patrick is talking too and who's making him blush like that because the only person that should be making Patrick blush like that is Pete and not whoever this mystery asshole on the phone is. Pete's sure it's not friendly to hate someone he's never met, but he doesn't care because it's Patrick and everyone knows that Patrick is his.
Wow, that's a bit more possessive than Pete thought he was, but that's okay. He can work with this. He creeps along behind Patrick, careful not to follow to closely and catch Patrick's attention. He's still too far away though because he can't hear a word Patrick is saying. This won't do. He edges closer, peering around the side of the building as Patrick walks back out to the van.
Pete's thankful when Patrick leans against the far side, so Pete can continue to creep up on him without being seen. He leans against the side of the van, still as silent as he can be and listens to Patrick.
"Oh, yeah, baby, fuck me with that big cock of yours."
And, wow, holy shit, that's not at all what he expected to come out of Patrick's mouth. Pete swallows dryly, aware of how hard he is now. He scrubs his hands across his face as he hears a moan from the other side of the van, Patrick still on the phone. Pete continues to listen in on the filthy, vaguely bad porn-esque dialogue that spills from Patrick's mouth. He shoves a hand into his pants, barely managing to get them undone as he wraps his fingers around his aching cock and strokes roughly, biting his lips to keep quiet. Pete really wishes he could watch Patrick's lips as they form the words. He wishes he could see his lips, teeth, tongue as they went over each letter, curling over every syllable.
He's heard that mouth say and sing a lot of sinful things, but never something so outright filthy. Never in the context of Patrick having phone sex. Jesus. That thought sends him over the edge and he comes with a strangled whimper. Too late he realizes that Patrick isn't talking anymore and that's it's completely silent on the other side of the van.
Patrick slowly walks around to Pete's side of the van and stares at him. "What the fuck?"
He doesn't look angry, not yet anyway. He takes in Pete's flushed appearance, the hand still wrapped around his cock, come dripping down over his fingers, chest still heaving.
"This is....well, this is exactly what it looks like." Pete finally manages, wiping his hand off on the inside of his underwear and fixing his pants. He doesn't meet Patrick's eyes. He doesn't want to see the disgust on his face.
"Did you really just get off on that?" Patrick asks, voice dropping lower than usual.
Pete risks a glance up. "Um, kind of obvious there, Patrick."
A wicked smirk flicks across Patrick's face. "You wanna know who I was talking to?"
Slowly Pete nods.
"It's a sex line. I work there. It's so east to rile people up. Some say I really have the voice for it." A chuckle escapes Patrick.
Pete's pretty sure all the blood in his body has rushed back into his dick at those words. Patrick working on a sex line? Why the fuck didn't he know this sooner?
"It's where all the extra cash has been coming from. It's not as skeevy as selling my body, so whatever." Patrick says, suddenly nervous, tugging on the brim of his hat.
"Dude, that's so fucking hot." Pete blurts out.
Another smirk curls the edges of Patrick's mouth. "Well, it certainly got you off, so why don't you return the favor?" He gestures at his own erection.
Pete's not sure how he managed to miss that, but he's quick to back Patrick up against the van and kiss him, biting at his bottom lip before sucking on it. Patrick moans into his mouth and he grins.
Patrick presses lightly down on his shoulders and Pete willingly drops to his knees. He looks up at Patrick through his eyelashes. "Talk to me."
Patrick knows what he means. He curls his fingers in Pete's hair as Pete unbuttons Patrick's jeans, pulling them down to his knees along with his boxers. Pete doesn't hesitate as Patrick begins to speak above him, words stuttering here and there as Pete sucks and licks and teases Patrick.
"Oh, fuck, Pete, you're so good. Fucking love that mouth. Shit, Pete." Patrick groans, tightening his grip in Pete's hair as his hips buck against the hold Pete has on him.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you? Me fucking that pretty mouth of yours. You down on your knees in front of me, sucking my cock." Patrick's voice is rough and deep and fuck, if it isn't the hottest thing Pete's ever heard.
He groans around Patrick, the vibrations along Patrick's cock making him whine and try to thrust against Pete's hands. Pete takes him in deeper, flicking his tongue against the underside Patrick's cock, drawing more delicious sounds from him.
"Oh, God, Pete! I'm so close, oh fuck, so close!" Patrick's fingers tighten in Pete's hair hard enough to hurt and his head thunks back against the van as he arches his back, orgasm slamming into him. Pete continues to suck him through the aftershocks, swallowing it all down as he pulls back from Patrick. He stands up and tucks Patrick back into his underwear and rights his clothing.
Patrick pulls him into a kiss and snakes his hand down in between them, slipping his hand into Pete's pants after flicking the button open. It doesn't take much to get Pete off again as he leans into Patrick and pants against his neck, moaning Patrick's name like it's a prayer. He shakes against Patrick as he comes over his hand.
They manages to clean themselves up with a few wadded up napkins in Patrick's pocket and fix their clothing enough that no one should really give them any shit for looking like they just had sex. They lean against the van and make out for a few minutes until Patrick's phone rings. Pete plucks it from his fingers and declines the call.
"You just quit today."
Patrick looks like he wants to be mad, but a smile is curling the corners of his lips and Pete kisses him, wanting to taste that grin again.