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Pete's crashing again.
He can see it when he looks in the bathroom mirror, hair unkempt and eyes haunted as cold water drips from his fingertips. Only disgust looks back at him. Joe banging in the door and shouting at him to stop doing his 'girl-shit' is barely enough to snap him out of his head, wiping his hands off on his skinny jeans and shouldering the door open to sneer at the taller boy with whatever anger he had left in him still. It was getting harder to tell when he was jokingly upset or genuinely pissed off.
He can tell by the way people start avoiding him, making excuses to go walk around the venues or hang out on other buses, ones he's not welcomed on or barely know the owners of. It's fine, though, he thinks as he drags a reluctant Patrick to the nearest bar in town, breathing hot on his neck and whispering promises that 'everything's fine, Trickybear! We're just gonna have some fun, Travie's even gonna be there!' when the taxi drops them off outside. He even drops his wallet in Patrick's hands, a way of reassuring him that he won't get out of control and buy too many drinks.
Patrick comes back to the bus alone that night, tired and frustrated with his idiotic best friend. "He'll be back by tomorrow, he always is," is what he bluntly tells Andy and Joe when they question where their bassist is, a round of disappointed sighs echoing in the bus. Pete shows up at 4:42am with tear-smudged makeup and bruises on his neck, stumbling up the bus steps and almost breaking his nose when he trips on his untied laces. Andy catches him before he falls, getting a faceful of Wentz-breath mixed with unnamed alcohol while Pete laughs at his own misfortune. She simply sighs at him and throws his limp arm over her shoulder so she can lead him to his bunk, doing her very best to ignore the wet teardrops she can feel dripping on her neck from his tan cheeks. Something to talk about later, she decides whilst depositing him in the proper bed. For now, she'll just let Pete drag her down into the bunk beside him, wrapping him up in a tight hug while Pete stains his light grey Star Wars t-shirt a darker shade with his sadness. The faint scent of perfume is almost nauseating to Andy.
It starts out small— little things that most people wouldn't notice. A hand on the back of Pete's neck whenever he's getting too rowdy. An arm around his shoulders and Andy's mouth close to his ear, whispering strict words that make Pete nod, a far-away look in his wide eyes when he squeezes his arm just barely. A look sent from behind his drumset whenever they're on-stage, Pete backing away with his eyes diverted instead of smashing his bass into one of her cymbals.
Pete's calmer around Patrick, too. Less tugging and more listening, big brown eyes watching him talk in a way that wasn't predatory anymore, but rather relaxed. Comforted, almost. That's what gets Patrick's attention the most- how calm Pete is. Those two words are rarely ever put together in a sentence, and never for more than a day or two at a time. But it's been a whole week, and Pete has yet to cause any havoc like he normally does on an upswing.
So, like any normal person would, he corners Andy one day after practice and demands to know what the fuck he did to their bassist when he came home that night. Andy, who loves to be a problem-solver and not cause issues, doesn't give him an answer. She just smiles at him, and tells him to come to her and Pete's hotel room tonight. 'Bring Joey too, if you'd like', she invites. Patrick looks dubious, but agrees. Whatever caused this big of a change in their bandmate had to be important... right?
That's what he tells himself, at least, as he waves the keycard Andy slipped him in the hallway in front of the lock on their door. Joe hovers behind him, looking nervous but excited for whatever they're about to witness. There's a small shuffle, before Andy's quiet voice rings out a clear 'Come in'.
With one last glance at Joe, Patrick opens the door and—
Huh. Not at all what he was expecting, to say the least! "Dude, what the fuck?" He yelps and quickly shuts the door behind him and Joe, shoving the lanky boy away when he gets nudged in the side. Of course Joe likes this, he's a fucking freak.
'This' turns out to just be Pete kneeling between Andy's legs while she sits on the edge of the bed, inked hand tangled in dark hair and keeping his open mouth pressed to the slight dusting of auburn hair that Andy has on her groin. She's naked from the waist down (minus some socks, cuz hotel carpet makes her skin crawl), but Pete's very clearly doing a good job of keeping her dick hidden. In his throat. In front of them.
Blue-grey eyes look over at the two youngest of the band with a slight smile curling on Andy's face, and she motions for them to take a seat on the bed opposite of what's going on. Joe is excited, and very quickly parks his ass on the bedsheets to see everything up close. Patrick is also excited, but also very hesitant, and sits a few inches away from his fellow guitarist. Joey likes to get handsy when he's excited, you can't blame him!
"So," He starts out after a few more beats of awkward silence, glancing nervously between Andy's calm face and Pete's closed eyes, trying not to think too hard about how nice his lips looked stretched out around her. Man, no-fucking-wonder his screams have been so gravelly the past week, if this is what's been happening every night. "Uhm. What is- this?" He makes a wild motion at 'this', getting a soft chuckle out of Andy before he responds. Patrick's cute when he's confused.
"This," She tugs just-barely at Pete's hair, eliciting a faint whine out of the kneeling boy, "is what's been keeping him so calm. He's like a puppy, Trick. Gotta reward the good behaviors with treats, and train him out of the bad behaviors, y'know?" Patrick does not know, because he has never had a dog and certainly does not view Pete as one. But something about being called that must click somewhere in Pete's brain, because Andy grabs his hair tight all of a sudden and glares down at him. "Behave, Wentz." He mutters lowly, Patrick's eyes following the way Pete's shoulders slump down in silent resignation.
"Fuck, that's hot..." Patrick looks over at Joe when he finally remembers that they're sitting on the same bed, totally unsurprised to find him with a hand down his pants and very much getting off on all of this. "So, like- it's an obedience thing, right? Wanting to be good for people." Andy nods along with what Joe's saying, which leads Patrick to stare at him like he's suddenly grown a second head.
"What, dude? You know I like browsing kink forums— this is, like, basic bitch type shit!" He exclaims in self defense. Patrick just rolls his eyes. "Anyways," Patrick continues on like Joe hadn't spoken, ignoring the boy's angry 'hmph', and looks back at the girl of their band, "He just... acts like a dog and gets off on it?" He doesn't.. fully understand it, okay, but he's supportive! Whatever keeps their bassist in their beds solely and not out with random people!
Andy gives a slight shrug. "Not quite, but rudimentary idea is kind of that, yes," She rubs her fingers into Pete's scalp while she talks, tugging him back a few inches to let him breathe. Fuck, Patrick's dick had no business twitching like that in his pants, good lord. Pete's eyes flutter open finally, and Joe lets out a breathless moan somewhere beside him- poor dude looks so fucked out of his mind. Patrick would almost be worried, if he wasn't so turned on.
"He likes feeling owned. Feeling wanted, like he's good for more than just his looks. Isn't that right, baby?" Andy pulls Pete off of her cock all the way as she croons down at his pitiful face, leading him up into a messy kiss. Patrick's tempted to ask what Pete's lips taste like. "What do you get out of it?" He asks instead, relaxing against the headboard, adjusting his own boner in his jeans in a weak attempt to ignore the issue. It only half works.
"Me?" Andy lets Pete fall back to his knees with a faint thump once they pull apart, a single tap on the thigh letting him know he was meant to resume what he was doing previously. This time, however, he doesn't just sit there— no, he bobs his head in a slow but steady rhythm, something Andy seemed to have drilled into his head by now. "I like knowing he's safe with us, rather than with someone who can't take care of him properly. Also, it's a stress reliever in general, and who doesn't need that?" He hums with a soft smile, looking away from Pete to watch Joey instead.
"You wanna try?" Andy talks like Pete is just something to be passed around. It's hot- God, it's so hot— but it makes Patrick frown regardless. Joe nods with an enthusiastic smile crowding his scruffy face, and hurries into following Andy's orders of getting his lower clothing off while she finishes up. A single hand gets pressed to the back of Pete's head, leading him into swallowing her down into his throat once more, and that's all Andy needs to cum down her pup's throat. "Good boy, there you go..." He sighs out breathlessly, savoring the feeling of Pete's mouth around his softening cock before he lets him pull away.
Pete stays perfectly still on his knees by the bed while Andy configures Joe into how she wants this all to play out; it ends up with Joe sitting up against the headboard with a pantless Pete in his lap to grind against. Joe definitely isn't the biggest dick in the room, so having something like Pete's cunt to grind on is all he needs to get off with, really. Especially with Pete panting hot and wet right up next to his ear and fingers tugging at his curls, sloppy kisses getting passed between the two desperate boys as they moved together. Patrick’s almost transfixed by the sight of them moving as one, Pete's whimpering pleas sending shocks up and down his brain stem.
Neither of them last very long, Pete especially, and they cum one right after the other with soft crescendo of noise that leaves Patrick wet in places he was not previously. He doesn't even realize it until Andy prods him in the side, making a motion downwards to the wet stain marking the front of his jeans. Damnit, those were his last good pair!
He helps Pete up and off of Joey to crowd him into the bathroom with him to clean up, gentle words being shared between the two boys. Pete makes a joke about teenage boys being uncontrollable as Patrick peels of his jizzed-in jeans, so Patrick does the sensible thing of smacking him in the ass with the wet rag they'd been using.
They leave the bathroom to let Andy and Joe have a turn at cleaning themselves up, Patrick ending up bearhugged by Pete on their cleanest bed. The other two join them a few moments later, crowding themselves all around Pete as much as they can.
"You guys are great," Pete mumbles out into the crease of Patrick's neck for all of them to hear, a chorus of 'love you, Pete' getting echoed back to him from everyone in the room. Patrick seals it off with a quick, soft kiss before Pete crashes— this time into unconsciousness, rather than into bad decisions.