posted by
hazeofthecity at 08:17pm on 26/05/2009 under brendon/pete, fall out boy, fanfiction, panic at the disco, vivid
How dirty boys get clean... or even dirtier
Brendon Urie/Pete Wentz|Panic at the Disco/Fall Out Boy

The hot water is streaming down on his bare skin, washing off the sweat that had built up on his body through the training. He gives a soft groan, a hand reaching up to the nape of his neck to rub the tense muscles with his fingertips. He lets his head hang down, allowing the rhythmical pounding of the shower to massage his flesh as he blindly reaches for the bottle of shower gel.
He strains his ears a little as he rubs his palms together, creating a thick white leather, thanks to the too liberal amount of shower gel, dividing the perfumed suds over his body. He doesn’t hear anything but the steady drumming sound, with which the waiter rained down at him, smiling a bit to himself. He'd been shooting a few more goals after the training, to waste some time. He'd told his fellows he needed to practise a little more, even though he knows that he is the last person in the soccer team who needs to practise more than they already do.
The real reason is, that now, a good twenty minutes later, the showers are deserted and free of the other boys (that might attempted to whip their towels on his ass or something equally childish like that). It was exactly what he'd aimed for. Nobody left; just him and the soft rushing of water. At least for the time being, he thinks, smiling to himself.
He had felt the looks practically burning on his body, or more so on his ass, as he’d been running over the field while ago, trying to get the ball through the defence, spurred by the cheers of his team fellows.
It had taken a lot of strength to fight the knowing smirk that had tried to make its appearance in his full bottom lip, knowing exactly about the effects his fluent movements had on the dark haired man at the side of the soccer field. When he’d pulled his shirt over his head it hadn’t been for the sake of a refreshment, no, it had been to tease and provoke.
He is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the padding of bare feet on the wet tiled floor, barely audible through the water rushing down on his head. Still he finds himself mildly startled when a set of strong arms wraps around his waist, drawing his body against a muscular, still dry one. He's expected him already. With a gentle smile on his full lips he relaxes into the others embrace, letting himself fall back against the others chest, his head turning a little to peek at him through his wet strands.
"You took your time, today. Eh?" Peter asks, raising his eyebrow a little as though he is irritated by the fact that Brendon has kept him waiting, but it’s not really convincing.
"I wanted to make sure we're alone." Brendon replies as he moves his arms to rest over the others around his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over the back of the tanned hands that rest on his stomach, creating an intriguing contrast to his own milky white skin. Peter has his head dipped down to pepper the pale skin of his shoulders with soft kisses, his raven black hair slowly matted down as the water drips down on his head as well, the transparent water drops sliding delicately over his skin.
"Oh, shush, where's the fun without the thrill of being caught?" He mumbles against his skin and Brendon can't help but shiver at the soft vibrations that went over his skin, followed by Peter's tongue, rubbing lightly over the pale flesh.
"We still could get caught." He whispers breathily, as the older mans lips move to the curve of his neck, nipping and biting occasionally. He tips his head to the side, baring his neck to Peter, who promptly attacks the newly exposed flesh with kisses.
"Not that easily though." Peter's hands slowly move from Brendon's stomach to his hips, his fingers tickling lightly over the slippery flesh of his loins. His finger tips trace the creases, sliding further down and to his inner thighs.
Brendon releases a shaky breath as Peter's fingers wander over his body, extending his arms to brace himself with his palms flat against the tiled wall. "I don't want you to get fired. Or make people think I'm the coach's favourite." His voice is wearing thin as Peter massages his inner thighs, calloused fingertips smoothing in small circles over the warm flesh.
The older man laughs softly and Brendon feels his chest surging against his back from the laughter. "But you are the coach's favourite." He whispers, before he bites his protégés ear tenderly and rolls his hips forward and against Brendon's firm rear, in a much more needy gesture, his developing arousal well noticeable.
"That's for me to know and nobody else." He presses it out between a sharp intake of breath and a breathy moan, his body arching back into his counterparts, eager to feel more, eager to get further with this. Usually this would have been the part where both of them would have started a little teasing game, voluntarily avoiding soft spots and keeping the kisses short to leave the other longing for more.
Today however this omits and Peter simply reaches his hand up, to cup the others cheek, coaxing his face gently into his direction to engage him into a slightly sloppy kiss, most likely due to the awkward position of their heads.
His hand slips from Brendon's thighs to rest on his stomach, the other one slowly over the dimples in the smaller of his back, leaning down to place a few kisses on the wet skin. Brendon simply lets his head hang down, the water continuing to pound down on him, water drops dripping from his hair tips on his face, running down in small creeks and he let his mouth fall open a bit when he feels a semi-slick finger running lightly over his entrance, teasing a little, before it slowly slips inside of him.
It feels strange at the beginning, as usually, but once Peter has worked a second finger inside of him, twisting and scissoring the digits with skill it starts to feel quite pleasurable and Brendon feels himself moving back against the others hand. He swallows hard when he feels the fingertips brushing against his prostate, giving a breathy moan, flesh dressing in goose bump despite the warm water flowing easily over his body.
"Ready?" Peter whispers into his ear, sending another wave of chills down his spine and earning a eager nod of his companion. He retrieves his fingers swiftly, eliciting a soft sigh from Brendon's lips, giving a soft laugh as he presses another kiss on his shoulder blade.
"Just one moment." He tells him and reaches for the shower gel Brendon has previously used, pouring some of the bluish substance on his palm and the younger male eyes him sceptically over his shoulder, his brows knitted. "You think that's a good idea?" He pants as Peter reaches his hand down, spreading the gel thoroughly over his erected length, small moans slipping over his lips as he does so.
"It's the only thing close to lube we have." He replies, voice thick with lust as he pulls Brendon's lithe form closely to his own, his chest flat to the others back and his hands smooth slowly down his sides and to his hips, rolling his pelvis forward, his hard erection brushing needily against the perfectly shaped ass. Brendon thinks this is enough of an argument. Or…he thinks the tugging in the pit of his stomach and Peter's stiff cock pressed against him is enough of an argument.
"Good…come on then!" He presses out, the vague touches start to get him closer to his boiling point and he doesn’t want to be over before they’ve actually even started. He hears Peter chuckle and twists his plumb lips, shivering a little as the other seizes his cock to align himself with Brendon's entrance.
He moans out when he feels the very tip pressing against the tight ring of muscles, the head slowly pushing inside and it's almost too slow, but he doesn't dare to push back. The preparation hasn't been as thoroughly as usually and he can't afford to get sore with the amount of training he's having.
He waits for the older male to sink inside of him, too slow for his likeness, perhaps a little make-up for the lack of teasing while ago. Stopping for a moment to allow Brendon to adjust himself he leans forward, kissing the nape of his neck delicately, right below the hairline, biting a little, eliciting a delighted gasp from Brendon, who moves backwards into the touch, head tipping involuntarily further forward to give him more surface.
At a length he feels like he’s ready, rolling his ass insistently back to show his lover that it is ok to get finally started with this, anticipation and need so very obvious in his every gesture. Peter for his part has merely waited for this, his lips curling to a smile against the skin of Brendon's shoulder as he slowly withdraws his well curved hips, easily sliding them forward again, starting off with a rather calm pace. It doesn't take him long, though, to fall into his usual rhythm, something that works in such a synch and fluency with the younger male's, it seems like a perfectly practised choreography. His fingertips are pressing into Brendon's hips, almost hard enough to leave impressions.
He knows all the right places to touch, kiss and bite, he's almost driving the young man over the edge, but surely in the most amazing kind of way Brendon can imagine. He thinks the 28 years of life experience surely account a good deal of his potential as lover and for that he gladly dispenses such privileges as dates, PDA and all the other things his contemporaries attach great importance to. This is just right for him.
And Peter, he likes the feeling of their skin rubbing together, the sensation of Brendon's muscles clenching around him when he drives his cock in and out of him. His chest pressing against the creamy skin of the young man's back that arches back in response and the feeling of Brendon's full lips trailing sloppily down the ridge of his jaw, not quite reaching every spot he wants to due to the awkward angle he has from turning his head to the side.
The younger one eventually moves one of his hands from the clammy tiled wall, reaching down to wrap his fingers around his own hard length, trying to match his movements Peter's, who soon curls one of his own hand over Brendon's, guiding the others pace as they both stroke his length with a firm grip, while the other hand rests on his toned stomach, feeling the muscles twitch and tense beneath his palm. He likes this, the closeness, intimacy and the 'doing this together'.
"A little faster." Brendon says breathily, pushing his ass emphatically back towards the other, groaning throatily as he feels the tip of his erection nudging against his prostate. Peter however takes the hint, drawing Brendon's body even closer, his movements getting deeper as well as a little faster, murmuring the other's name into the nook of his neck, his pearly white teeth nipping and biting softly at the flawless skin, but not enough to leave a mark.
Brendon feels his eyes rolling back into their sockets as Peter's lips brush over the sensitive spot, right below his ear, his name escaping him in a deep moan, feeling the tugging in his loins and the pit of his stomach, knowing his wouldn’t last much longer under this treatment. “I’m close.“ He almost swallows the words, his head too stuffed with the feelings that are invading him. His lover’s shaft pushing steadily inside of him, his thumb rubbing firmly over the head of his erection, the pre-cum already oozing from its tip and the very wicked things Peter’s doing with his lips.
It’s completely over when Peter’s hand loosens above his own, snaking just a little deeper to cup his balls, massaging and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure and Brendon’s eye squeeze shut as he comes in a few hard spurts over his own hands and the shower wall. He cries out, his hips bucking up into his hand, his fingers curling even tighter around his erection, trying to savour the tiniest wave of his orgasm. He lets his head fall back and onto the others shoulder, tilting it to the side, only to feel Peter's mouth above his, attempting to abuse the kiss-swollen lips more, make the even redder than they already are.
Peter's movements get a little slower, but therefore firmer and deeper and Brendon can tell that it won't take him much longer. He tries to keep on moving, clenching his muscles a little tired around his lover's shaft, trying to coax him to his orgasm as well. He smiles complacently when he hears Peter gasp and moan, his hips snapping roughly forward drawing a muffled groan from Brendon. A few more erratic thrusts and he's finally reaching his peak as well, pelvic continuing to roll forward as he rides the last waves of his orgasm out, before he lets himself drop exhaustedly against Brendon.
The young man still pants as Peter's body collapses against his own spent form, arms giving in and he sinks forward and into the wall, the wet tiles cold against his hot flesh, sending shivers down his spine. He rests his forehead the wall, sighing contently as Peter's lips rub lazily over his drenched skin.
Brendon really would like to just remain like that for another hour or two, because the feeling of their wet, post-orgasmic bodies pressed together and Peter's arms loosely wrapped around his waist - he likes that.
"Don't make me move, okay?" He sighs, turning his head a little to the side, wincing a little as he feels Peter retrieving one arm from his waist and a few moments later pulling out of his, shivering a little at the feeling.
Peter's other arm soon makes his reappearance around his waist and he nuzzles his nose in the nape of Brendon's neck, nodding. "Mhm." He murmurs, his body leaning back against the younger ones.
Merely two minutes pass by until the water suddenly turns ice cold and both men boggle and stumble away like a scalded cats, looking flabbergasted at the relative other one, before busting into light hearted laughter as Peter grabs Brendon's hand and they head for the locker room, tying their towels around their waist.
Brendon though is still shivering and he turns to give Peter his best interpretation of a puppy dog look, which elicits a hearty chuckle from the older man. He spreads his arms invitingly, enveloping the other one into his arms, even though his own body isn't much warmer than his young lover's.
Brendon moves closer into the older mans embrace, teeth still chattering as he leans in to press their lips together in a soft kiss. And Peter thinks it really is good that Brendon took his time while ago, because now he really didn't want to be caught.
[x] As usually, comments and concrit are encouraged and appreciated.
* - I do not own the characters used in this story.