gala_apples (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gala_apples) wrote2010-09-07 04:35 am
gala_apples) wrote2010-09-07 04:35 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
title: Fun Fair
pairing: Mikey/Pete/Gabe
rating: NC17
wordcount: 1707
summary: Pete drags everyone to a carnival, and then figures out how to make it better when everyone decides it sucks.
warnings: Slight AU for them being on tour together. public sex.
prompt used: mirrors
disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
“Shittiest. Carnival. Ever.”
Normally Pete ignores Gabe's complaining. It was lesson two he learned when their relationship started, only preceded by Mikey needs coffee before opening his eyes. Gabe complains like he fucks, frequently and compulsively. But in this case he'd have to agree. There are four rides -not counting the one that’s broken and cordoned off-, a few stands with shoddy prizes to be won if it was even possible to win in the first place, and a few things to eat if you don’t fear the month old grease it’s all boiled in. There are only so many times you can ride the teacups before they get old, and as short as his attention span is, Gabe is worse. Gabe was probably done here twenty minutes ago. This is probably Gabe showing restraint.
Pete looks at Mikey for confirmation that this place blows, half hoping he’ll protest. This is the only thing within begging for a ride distance, and Pete really doesn't want to go back to being a hermit on the bus yet. He’s a veteran of touring, and the more time spent off the bus, the better. It stretches your legs, eases your mind, and sometimes even relieves boredom.
“What kind of carnival doesn't have mini-doughnuts?” is Mikey's contribution.
Pete pictures himself back on the bus, and knows the second he's there he'll be wishing he was still here. “Let's go to the house of mirrors first.”
“Are you high?” Pete ignores Gabe's rhetorical question. “Because I'm not, and that shit isn't fun unless you're tripping balls.”
“Gimme three good reasons we shouldn’t go.” He knows if he looks to his left Mikey will be standing with his arms casually crossed, waiting for his boyfriends to stop arguing. He doesn’t need to, he just keeps his gaze with Gabe as best as he can, wearing his Serious face.
“One, I’m not high. Two, I’m not high. Three, I’m not high?” Pete ignores Gabe and stalks towards the ramshackle shed.
There's nobody in line for the house of mirrors. It’s not exactly surprising, the three of them are three of maybe twenty attendees at most. Pete runs the zigzag of the highly optimistic metal bars that would contain a line, coming to the front a full minute after Mikey and Gabe get there by merely walking. They hover by the bars for a few minutes until Mikey gets impatient and tugs on the door of the house. It’s locked, and Pete wasn’t expecting anything different, but Gabe gets frustrated and turns towards the rest of the carnival and shouts “Dude, seriously!”
Pete’s pretty used to Gabe making scenes in public. Hell, he’s used to provoking Gabe's, and he’s definitely used to making his own. And there’s no denying that nine times out of ten it works. A massive man opens the door of the cotton candy stand and crosses the dirt to them. Pete looks at him, then back at the stand and is surprised the man doesn’t have corners. He’s the exact size of the stand, in a Tim Burton world he’d be square. He holds out a surprisingly clean hand and takes two generic tickets off each of their rolls then runs a card through the door and opens it for them.
Once they’re in the shack Pete sprints a few feet into the maze until he can’t see the door anymore. He closes his eyes and twirls a few times until his sense of back towards the door is totally skewed. Pete loves the House of Mirrors, it’s his favourite non-ride at carnivals. Gabe is full of crap, one doesn't need to be high to explore the awesome of being lost.
There are two basic rules to a House of Mirrors, or at least Pete’s decided this after two decades of attending carnivals. The first is Don’t Freak Out. Everyone will eventually find their way, it’s impossible to get lost forever and starve to death. At the very least, the carnies will walk through the maze at the end of the day to make sure nobody is trying to sneak into the fair for a party after hours. The second is No Cheating. This includes no following groups of people that obviously know what they’re doing, no calling for help from the carnies, and a handful of other things depending on what sort of house it is. Pete remembers being in a House where the mirrors didn’t reach the ceiling, and Joe had somehow scaled the smooth surface to get an aerial view. Definitely cheating.
Touching the mirrors to find an exit is definitely cheating, but he’s smart enough to know that his entire explanation has gone over the heads of his boyfriends. So after minutes of stumbling around when Gabe reaches out his hand Pete doesn’t snap at him or try to slap his hand back to his side, or even simply hold his hand so he can’t try it again. Instead Pete darts forward and sucks the protruding fingers into his mouth.
Gabe shakes his head. “Don't start something you can't finish.”
Pete pulls his mouth off Gabe’s long fingers, giving them a final suck before he’s fully removed. But before Gabe has a chance to gloat, or get that fucking ‘you listened to my rules’ look -Pete’s never been in a relationship before where there’s such a power struggle, because no one listens to a single thing the others say, and imagines with any other person it’d be infuriating instead of funny- Pete takes his hand, gripping it by thumb and pinky. With a lascivious look he sticks out his tongue and licks Gabe’s palm.
“Didn't your mom ever tell you you can do anything Gabe?” Mikey says, humor laced through his voice. Gabe scowls at Mikey, about to say something before Pete licks him again. They’ve been with each other long enough -in pairings over the years before finally wising up enough to just make it a triad- to know each other’s kinks, and Pete knows it’s that they’re in a public space just as much as it’s the sensitivity of his hands.
They probably shouldn’t be doing this. Nevermind that there are a hundred thems doing this all around them, each triad looking ridiculously hot. Logically it’s a poor idea, even if Mikey’s already cupping himself outside his jeans. Logic’s got nothing to do with them, with the sort of person it takes to live in a van for months on end. Pete licks up his palm a third time, then turns his hand so he can lick the back of it. He follows the length of Gabe’s arm, stopping for just a moment to rewet his tongue before pushing Gabe’s arm out of the way and dragging his mouth down Gabe’s side. His tongue gets caught on the dry fabric of his shirt, but Gabe’s fist is curled tight on his shoulder and it’s totally worth the taste of cotton.
He drops to his knees, asking himself a second if he’s really gonna do this before dismissing himself. Why the fuck wouldn’t he? Using his skills -maybe Mikey can raise a single eyebrow and Gabe can wriggle his ears but his teeth are just as impressive- he kisses Gabe's belt before he opens it with his teeth. The zipper comes down fairly easily; either Gabe’s wearing an old pair of jeans or Pete’s just a professional at this.
It’s at this point, kneeling on a paint black scuffed to hell floor, that Pete realises something. If he only licks the side of Gabe’s cock and keeps his eyes open he can watch himself getting Gabe off. Pete knows he’s not fooling anyone, he’s a voyeur just as much as he’s an exhibitionist. He wants to see what he looks like.
As it turns out, it’s pretty fucking hot. Gabe is red against his darker tongue, and instead of just feeling Gabe’s hand tighten on his hair he can see the way each finger is weaved through his bangs. It’s even better when Mikey joins them. In the meantime he’s lost his jeans, his cock just as hard as Gabe’s but at a different angle. Pete thinks fuck the mirrors and turns so he can suck the head into his mouth. Mikey’s hand takes what little space Gabe’s didn’t, and Pete lets Mikey control the rhythm. If he pulled off he could probably see Gabe pouting a bit, but as it is he can’t see anything more than a reflection of cock and face out of the corners of his eyes.
Mikey’s quick to orgasm, -Pete fucking loves being with people that understand the thrill of doing stuff in public, loves how it makes everything faster and stronger- and the moment before he does he forces Pete away. His come splatters over Pete’s face, and he’s not sure which one of those still standing gasped but he shares the sentiment. It feels dirty, and incredibly sexy to have Mikey dripping down him. He angles back to Gabe, still just licking the length with his eyes focused on the mirror. It’s even better now, because he can see his wet face.
When Mikey drops down behind him and shoves his hand down the front of his jeans it’s almost over for Pete. Gabe’s tightening fist cues the end, Pete lets Gabe come on his face as he fills his jeans. He takes a second to catch his breath before he stands and strips, quickly toeing off his shoes and shucking off his jeans. He uses a dry patch of his sticky briefs to wipe off his face, then tosses the damp fabric into what looks like a corner of the room. The article immediately multiplies as Pete pulls on his pants again, but he doesn’t feel too guilty. This is the sort of thing the carnies get paid to deal with.
“Best. Carnival. Ever.” Gabe sighs reverently.
“We need to find our way out first,” Mikey reminds him.
Pete knows they’re both right. He’s just not gonna say it, because that’s not what they do. They don’t agree with each other.
pairing: Mikey/Pete/Gabe
rating: NC17
wordcount: 1707
summary: Pete drags everyone to a carnival, and then figures out how to make it better when everyone decides it sucks.
warnings: Slight AU for them being on tour together. public sex.
prompt used: mirrors
disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
“Shittiest. Carnival. Ever.”
Normally Pete ignores Gabe's complaining. It was lesson two he learned when their relationship started, only preceded by Mikey needs coffee before opening his eyes. Gabe complains like he fucks, frequently and compulsively. But in this case he'd have to agree. There are four rides -not counting the one that’s broken and cordoned off-, a few stands with shoddy prizes to be won if it was even possible to win in the first place, and a few things to eat if you don’t fear the month old grease it’s all boiled in. There are only so many times you can ride the teacups before they get old, and as short as his attention span is, Gabe is worse. Gabe was probably done here twenty minutes ago. This is probably Gabe showing restraint.
Pete looks at Mikey for confirmation that this place blows, half hoping he’ll protest. This is the only thing within begging for a ride distance, and Pete really doesn't want to go back to being a hermit on the bus yet. He’s a veteran of touring, and the more time spent off the bus, the better. It stretches your legs, eases your mind, and sometimes even relieves boredom.
“What kind of carnival doesn't have mini-doughnuts?” is Mikey's contribution.
Pete pictures himself back on the bus, and knows the second he's there he'll be wishing he was still here. “Let's go to the house of mirrors first.”
“Are you high?” Pete ignores Gabe's rhetorical question. “Because I'm not, and that shit isn't fun unless you're tripping balls.”
“Gimme three good reasons we shouldn’t go.” He knows if he looks to his left Mikey will be standing with his arms casually crossed, waiting for his boyfriends to stop arguing. He doesn’t need to, he just keeps his gaze with Gabe as best as he can, wearing his Serious face.
“One, I’m not high. Two, I’m not high. Three, I’m not high?” Pete ignores Gabe and stalks towards the ramshackle shed.
There's nobody in line for the house of mirrors. It’s not exactly surprising, the three of them are three of maybe twenty attendees at most. Pete runs the zigzag of the highly optimistic metal bars that would contain a line, coming to the front a full minute after Mikey and Gabe get there by merely walking. They hover by the bars for a few minutes until Mikey gets impatient and tugs on the door of the house. It’s locked, and Pete wasn’t expecting anything different, but Gabe gets frustrated and turns towards the rest of the carnival and shouts “Dude, seriously!”
Pete’s pretty used to Gabe making scenes in public. Hell, he’s used to provoking Gabe's, and he’s definitely used to making his own. And there’s no denying that nine times out of ten it works. A massive man opens the door of the cotton candy stand and crosses the dirt to them. Pete looks at him, then back at the stand and is surprised the man doesn’t have corners. He’s the exact size of the stand, in a Tim Burton world he’d be square. He holds out a surprisingly clean hand and takes two generic tickets off each of their rolls then runs a card through the door and opens it for them.
Once they’re in the shack Pete sprints a few feet into the maze until he can’t see the door anymore. He closes his eyes and twirls a few times until his sense of back towards the door is totally skewed. Pete loves the House of Mirrors, it’s his favourite non-ride at carnivals. Gabe is full of crap, one doesn't need to be high to explore the awesome of being lost.
There are two basic rules to a House of Mirrors, or at least Pete’s decided this after two decades of attending carnivals. The first is Don’t Freak Out. Everyone will eventually find their way, it’s impossible to get lost forever and starve to death. At the very least, the carnies will walk through the maze at the end of the day to make sure nobody is trying to sneak into the fair for a party after hours. The second is No Cheating. This includes no following groups of people that obviously know what they’re doing, no calling for help from the carnies, and a handful of other things depending on what sort of house it is. Pete remembers being in a House where the mirrors didn’t reach the ceiling, and Joe had somehow scaled the smooth surface to get an aerial view. Definitely cheating.
Touching the mirrors to find an exit is definitely cheating, but he’s smart enough to know that his entire explanation has gone over the heads of his boyfriends. So after minutes of stumbling around when Gabe reaches out his hand Pete doesn’t snap at him or try to slap his hand back to his side, or even simply hold his hand so he can’t try it again. Instead Pete darts forward and sucks the protruding fingers into his mouth.
Gabe shakes his head. “Don't start something you can't finish.”
Pete pulls his mouth off Gabe’s long fingers, giving them a final suck before he’s fully removed. But before Gabe has a chance to gloat, or get that fucking ‘you listened to my rules’ look -Pete’s never been in a relationship before where there’s such a power struggle, because no one listens to a single thing the others say, and imagines with any other person it’d be infuriating instead of funny- Pete takes his hand, gripping it by thumb and pinky. With a lascivious look he sticks out his tongue and licks Gabe’s palm.
“Didn't your mom ever tell you you can do anything Gabe?” Mikey says, humor laced through his voice. Gabe scowls at Mikey, about to say something before Pete licks him again. They’ve been with each other long enough -in pairings over the years before finally wising up enough to just make it a triad- to know each other’s kinks, and Pete knows it’s that they’re in a public space just as much as it’s the sensitivity of his hands.
They probably shouldn’t be doing this. Nevermind that there are a hundred thems doing this all around them, each triad looking ridiculously hot. Logically it’s a poor idea, even if Mikey’s already cupping himself outside his jeans. Logic’s got nothing to do with them, with the sort of person it takes to live in a van for months on end. Pete licks up his palm a third time, then turns his hand so he can lick the back of it. He follows the length of Gabe’s arm, stopping for just a moment to rewet his tongue before pushing Gabe’s arm out of the way and dragging his mouth down Gabe’s side. His tongue gets caught on the dry fabric of his shirt, but Gabe’s fist is curled tight on his shoulder and it’s totally worth the taste of cotton.
He drops to his knees, asking himself a second if he’s really gonna do this before dismissing himself. Why the fuck wouldn’t he? Using his skills -maybe Mikey can raise a single eyebrow and Gabe can wriggle his ears but his teeth are just as impressive- he kisses Gabe's belt before he opens it with his teeth. The zipper comes down fairly easily; either Gabe’s wearing an old pair of jeans or Pete’s just a professional at this.
It’s at this point, kneeling on a paint black scuffed to hell floor, that Pete realises something. If he only licks the side of Gabe’s cock and keeps his eyes open he can watch himself getting Gabe off. Pete knows he’s not fooling anyone, he’s a voyeur just as much as he’s an exhibitionist. He wants to see what he looks like.
As it turns out, it’s pretty fucking hot. Gabe is red against his darker tongue, and instead of just feeling Gabe’s hand tighten on his hair he can see the way each finger is weaved through his bangs. It’s even better when Mikey joins them. In the meantime he’s lost his jeans, his cock just as hard as Gabe’s but at a different angle. Pete thinks fuck the mirrors and turns so he can suck the head into his mouth. Mikey’s hand takes what little space Gabe’s didn’t, and Pete lets Mikey control the rhythm. If he pulled off he could probably see Gabe pouting a bit, but as it is he can’t see anything more than a reflection of cock and face out of the corners of his eyes.
Mikey’s quick to orgasm, -Pete fucking loves being with people that understand the thrill of doing stuff in public, loves how it makes everything faster and stronger- and the moment before he does he forces Pete away. His come splatters over Pete’s face, and he’s not sure which one of those still standing gasped but he shares the sentiment. It feels dirty, and incredibly sexy to have Mikey dripping down him. He angles back to Gabe, still just licking the length with his eyes focused on the mirror. It’s even better now, because he can see his wet face.
When Mikey drops down behind him and shoves his hand down the front of his jeans it’s almost over for Pete. Gabe’s tightening fist cues the end, Pete lets Gabe come on his face as he fills his jeans. He takes a second to catch his breath before he stands and strips, quickly toeing off his shoes and shucking off his jeans. He uses a dry patch of his sticky briefs to wipe off his face, then tosses the damp fabric into what looks like a corner of the room. The article immediately multiplies as Pete pulls on his pants again, but he doesn’t feel too guilty. This is the sort of thing the carnies get paid to deal with.
“Best. Carnival. Ever.” Gabe sighs reverently.
“We need to find our way out first,” Mikey reminds him.
Pete knows they’re both right. He’s just not gonna say it, because that’s not what they do. They don’t agree with each other.
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Also, hot watching in all the mirrors.
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thanks for commenting!
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I just loved this line a lot. And I believe it, too. *nods*
I also loved this:
Because it shows they know each other's personalities so well at this point, that they know exactly when they should ignore the others and when they need to pay attention. And because it shows that they accept the others exactly the way they are.
And then the porn! PETE HAS THE BEST IDEAS EVER AND IT'S MIND-BOGGLING FOR HIM HOW THIS FACT IS STILL NOT TAUGHT IN SCHOOLS. "Pete Wentz has the Best Ideas Ever and should always be listened and obeyed and odes should be written to his Awesomeness" should be a mandatory course in schools all throught the world. After all, it's as true as the Law of Gravity, and it's definitely more relevant to everyone's interests.
GREAT JOB, BABY! YOU GET AN A+ AND A GOLD STAR.
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Gabe Saporta: all he's good for is whining and fucking. *snicker*
Pete is seriously a brilliant dude. it takes an interesting sort of person to want to fuck in a house of mirrors, but pete is that person. LIFE WOULD BE SO MUCH EASIER IF PATRICK HAD BEEN MADE TO GO TO THAT COURSE.
*puts my grade on the fridge*
I NOW HAVE A BOB ICON! yay, i can match you and stuff!
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His face is SO the face of someone whose sleep was disturbed by ridiculous fights over lame board games!
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she wrote your pictionary, and now she's going to write my spoons. everyone wins!