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Pete almost choked on Patrick’s dick when he heard the alarm go off on his phone. That would not have…well, actually, it would have been a pleasant way to die, he supposed.
But as he stumbled back, landing ass-first on the floor, feeling Patrick’s fingers disentangling from his hair as he coughed from his brief almost choking stint, Pete figured that perhaps there was a less painful way to die. Because the alarm was still blaring in the room and Patrick was asking, “what the fuck, Pete?” and Pete was just mortified. What the hell had possessed him to set an alarm for two o’clock in the afternoon, anyway? He couldn’t remember anything important that he had to remember, but then again, that was probably why he set an alarm in the first place.
He didn’t even bother to stand up and, instead, crawled over to his bedside table where his phone sat, still whining at him like he was a petulant child. Or was it the petulant child that did the whining? Either way, it was making a lot of noise.
Pete went to type in his lock screen code and noticed that it wasn’t an alarm after all. Well, not technically. It was an event reminder in his calendar.
“ask p bout sex life”
What the fuck?
When the hell had he set this event reminder? Had he been drunk?
Patrick was still standing there with his boxers around his ankles and his hard cock hanging out, but Pete was absorbed by this reminder on his phone. He was sure he would hate himself for that later – who the fuck ignores Patrick for their phone?! – but it was like he was possessed. He had to know what this was about, so he swiped the notification from the lock screen and typed in his code to open the phone. It brought him immediately to the calendar event, where he was pleased to discover that past-Pete had at least included a note.
“7 yrs frm tday make sure 2 ask p bout sex life”
Well, it didn’t give him much more information, but at least he had a time frame. Seven years earlier would have been…2012. They had probably just started writing again after the hiatus, and while Pete couldn’t remember this particular event reminder, he could remember how he was feeling about Patrick at that time.
Gorgeous, beautiful, talented Patrick who actually wanted to play with him again.
Hot, sexy Patrick with dick-sucking lips that Pete so wanted to get his mouth on, but couldn’t work up the courage when it could fuck everything up all over again. And Pete was not willing to take that chance, not then.
Eventually, sure, he would – and he had – but perhaps past-Pete felt like future-Pete needed a push in the right direction if he hadn’t.
“Pete, what is so important that you’re just leaving me hanging here?”
Heh, leaving him hanging. He wasn’t wrong.
“Because if you’re done,” Patrick continued, “then I’m going to go find someone who will suck my dick. Mikey still lives in LA, right?”
Oh, hell no. There was no way he was letting Patrick near Mikey fuckin’ Way’s house. Aside from the fact that Mikey was married with children and probably was not inclined to be sucking any dicks any time soon – and that Patrick was married with kids and…well, inclined to be sucking dick, Pete hoped, but not one that was not attached to Pete’s body – the last thing he wanted was for Patrick’s dick to get anywhere near Mikey Way’s talented fucking mouth. Nobody beat Patrick’s mouth, but Mikey? There was a reason Pete had been so gone for him at one time.
He also knew that Patrick was fucking with him, but well, sometimes he did worry that Patrick might leave him for someone taller and more charming.
Not that anyone could be more charming than Pete Wentz, but Mikey Way still had charm.
“You won’t believe this, ’Trick,” he began. However, instead of continuing, he just held his phone up to the other man. The vocalist leaned down to grab the phone and stared at it for a moment before asking, “what the fuck is this?”
Pete was both amused and embarrassed at the same time. “Apparently I set a reminder in my phone seven years ago to ask you about your sex life in seven—well, now.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow at him. Pete knew what that meant.
“Continue.”
“Well, you know I’ve been in love with you forever,” the bassist explained. “And you also know that I was too chicken shit to say anything after the hiatus because things had been so tense at the end and I didn’t want to fuck shit up again.”
The other man nodded. They had discussed this before, when Patrick had finally gotten fed up a few years earlier with waiting for Pete to make a movie that he did it himself. Pete still couldn’t believe sometimes that it was Patrick who made the first move, not because Patrick was shy or timid or anything – anyone who knew him well knew better than that – but because there was no fucking way that Patrick Stump could ever be in love with Pete Wentz. That sort of thing didn’t happen in real life, and yet…
So, naturally, Pete had explained why he hadn’t made a move and Patrick – whose dick had been inside Pete at that time, because of course Pete couldn’t even wait until after the sex to start babbling about everything that was bottled up inside him (including the hot, thick cock) – understood, even if he did call Pete an idiot for it. Because apparently Patrick’s feelings for Pete had been so fucking obvious that Pete had to have been an idiot not to notice.
“But I never expected you to be the one to yank my head out of my ass and replace it with your dick,” he continued, “so I guess I set myself a reminder to…do something about it.”
“And you just had to set it to go off while my dick was in your throat?”
“It’s not like I could have predicted that!”
Patrick rolled his eyes, but Pete knew there was no heat in the action. After all, he wouldn’t be able to deny that Pete really couldn’t have predicted that. “So, you just had to check the reminder now? You couldn’t have waited like another three minutes for me to cum first?” the other man asked, looking down at Pete on the floor while still holding the phone.
Pete grinned. “Three minutes? You don’t think I could drag it out longer?”
“Please, I was already close. There was no way I was gonna last even another two minutes, let alone long enough to fuck you.”
“Fair enough,” the bassist conceded.
“Plus,” Patrick began, holding the phone back out to the man on the floor, “we have to be quick so you’re not late to get the kids from school.”
“Details, details.”
But he had to concede, at least to himself, that the other man was right. They wouldn’t exactly have time for an afternoon sexfest, as much as Pete would love that right now – who wouldn’t when Patrick was involved? – which was something they had even discussed before Pete was in his briefs and on his knees with his mouth full. It hadn’t even been Pete who started it this time – that was all Patrick – but Pete was nothing if not enthusiastic, and had wasted no time before taking his husband so deep into his throat that—
“So, you never answered my question,” the husband in question pointed out as he interrupted Pete’s thoughts.
“I didn’t know that’s what that was,” Pete told him. “I thought maybe I had forgotten something important and that like, my mom or my therapist or maybe Andy might kill me if I didn’t check it right away.”
“Please don’t bring up your mom while I’m hard. Or Andy, for that matter.”
“What, Andy doesn’t do it for you?”
“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Patrick stated, reaching down to pull Pete up off the floor. “I’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna feel it while you pick the kids up from school.”
Pete couldn’t help but grin as he yanked his briefs down, his own hard cock springing free while Patrick turned him over and pushed him down on the bed. He felt the other man spread his legs, followed by the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Sure enough, moments later, a slick, cold finger traced his hole before pressing in and immediately going deep. No time for drawing it out when Pete was going to have to be dressed again and in the car in another fifteen minutes or so. One finger soon became two, which soon became three, and after about two minutes of being prepped, Pete was ready for more.
“And don’t forget,” his husband began as he lined up his hard, slick cock with Pete’s wet, stretched entrance, “today is parent-teacher interviews.”
“Then you best give me a plug so I can feel it until I get home.”
Patrick chuckled and muttered, “you kinky bastard,” before plunging deep into Pete, causing the bassist to claw at the sheets and moan wantonly. He wanted more, more, more. This was going to be over way too soon, but that was the point.
At least he didn’t have to ask Patrick about his sex life. Past-Pete clearly underestimated him.