Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Let's Spend Tonight on Top of the World
And the colors are always changing, so stare up at the clouds.
7 reviewsPete's in a dream, hence the italics. No more comments. :)
2Exciting
He yawned and stretched, falling out of his bed and onto the carpet of the hotel room he had to himself for that weekend. He padded into the bathroom, shutting the door, tugging off his black boxers. He started the shower, and when he saw steam rising out of the top, he got in carefully. He was still half asleep, and he didn't really want to slip and break his neck. Wouldn't that suck?
As the water hit his back, he heard the door creak open.
"Patrick?" he asked with a yawn. "The soap's in here, man, you might need it." But he didn't hear anything at all.
Then he heard something. A belt buckle hitting the linoleum.
He paused, water rushing onto the top of his head and down his back, trying to listen.
Slowly, the shower curtain opened.
He blinked a few times, taking in the site in front of him. The same words, No way in hell is this happening, kept passing through his brain like a venue marquee scroll.
Michelle was standing in front of him, wearing a black bra and black underwear, her red straight hair falling over her chest. She wore no makeup, and he spied her jeans and a black tank top on the ground behind her.
She smirked at him and said, "Do you mind? I think I need a shower." She stepped in before he could answer, shutting the shower curtain back behind her.
His senses snapped to full attention now. He took in the sight of her as she stepped under the nozzle, water pouring over her. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, like she was expecting him to do something.
He inspected her bra. Thank God it had a front clasp. He reached forward and undid it in a swift move, tossing it over the top of the shower. He took in the site of her again, and she smiled at him, reaching a hand out and pushing his shoulder so he was back to the wall.
"I want you," she said simply, and pulled him into a kiss, tongues battling for a victory. They pulled away moments later, and he started laying kisses down her neck, between her breasts, down to where her underwear was. It was now soaked from the water of the shower, much like his and her body.
She looked at him, daring him to take them off. But before he could, she pulled him into another kiss, pressing her chest against his.
His spine tingled, and he bit her lip gently. While their faces were still attached, she moved her fingers down his stomach and to his tattoo, lining it as he looked at her. She looked at him and bit her lip, pulling him to the floor of the shower with her. She kissed around his area, him moaning every few kisses. He was dying.
Then her face turned into Will's. They were no longer in a shower, and he was fully clothed, and dry at that. They were in Will's office, Will glaring at him with disapproval.
"What were you doing?" he commanded Pete as he trembled in his Converses. The office melted to the scene of Generation Mod, the blinking lights around him, as Patrick walked up to him and went, "Dude, you look tense."
He morphed into Michelle, the shower scene back, and as she opened her mouth, it wasn't her words. It was his, and they were saying "Thanks for giving me another chance."
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Drenched in sweat, panting, he woke up in the hotel room bed, covers thrashed around him.
He turned his head, brushing sweat off his eyebrows.
3:41 AM.
Oh God, he needed some sleep.
As the water hit his back, he heard the door creak open.
"Patrick?" he asked with a yawn. "The soap's in here, man, you might need it." But he didn't hear anything at all.
Then he heard something. A belt buckle hitting the linoleum.
He paused, water rushing onto the top of his head and down his back, trying to listen.
Slowly, the shower curtain opened.
He blinked a few times, taking in the site in front of him. The same words, No way in hell is this happening, kept passing through his brain like a venue marquee scroll.
Michelle was standing in front of him, wearing a black bra and black underwear, her red straight hair falling over her chest. She wore no makeup, and he spied her jeans and a black tank top on the ground behind her.
She smirked at him and said, "Do you mind? I think I need a shower." She stepped in before he could answer, shutting the shower curtain back behind her.
His senses snapped to full attention now. He took in the sight of her as she stepped under the nozzle, water pouring over her. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, like she was expecting him to do something.
He inspected her bra. Thank God it had a front clasp. He reached forward and undid it in a swift move, tossing it over the top of the shower. He took in the site of her again, and she smiled at him, reaching a hand out and pushing his shoulder so he was back to the wall.
"I want you," she said simply, and pulled him into a kiss, tongues battling for a victory. They pulled away moments later, and he started laying kisses down her neck, between her breasts, down to where her underwear was. It was now soaked from the water of the shower, much like his and her body.
She looked at him, daring him to take them off. But before he could, she pulled him into another kiss, pressing her chest against his.
His spine tingled, and he bit her lip gently. While their faces were still attached, she moved her fingers down his stomach and to his tattoo, lining it as he looked at her. She looked at him and bit her lip, pulling him to the floor of the shower with her. She kissed around his area, him moaning every few kisses. He was dying.
Then her face turned into Will's. They were no longer in a shower, and he was fully clothed, and dry at that. They were in Will's office, Will glaring at him with disapproval.
"What were you doing?" he commanded Pete as he trembled in his Converses. The office melted to the scene of Generation Mod, the blinking lights around him, as Patrick walked up to him and went, "Dude, you look tense."
He morphed into Michelle, the shower scene back, and as she opened her mouth, it wasn't her words. It was his, and they were saying "Thanks for giving me another chance."
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Drenched in sweat, panting, he woke up in the hotel room bed, covers thrashed around him.
He turned his head, brushing sweat off his eyebrows.
3:41 AM.
Oh God, he needed some sleep.
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