Let's Make A Deal (ficathon)

Name: Let's Make A Deal
Author: bestthingaround
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2484
Author's Notes: For the Ficathon. For smugglers_prize, our lovely mod who never got a story. I used prompt #3: Anything goes, but the following must be included: penguins, dressing in drag, and eyeliner. I'm not really known for partically hot, smutty stories, but I tried. For you. Cause you deserve something awesome and yea, it's a late birthday present. I hope you enjoy ♥



When Patrick walked into the room, Pete could have sworn his heart had stopped beating.

Then he realized his heart must have been beating, because how else would all that blood travel south so fast? Those eyes. Covered in messy, dark lines. Oh yea, he could feel each pump through his veins.

“Does it look alright?” He bit his bottom lip in such the typical nervous Patrick way.

“Yea,” it was a half word, half moan. Fuck, he was hard already. “Took you long enough to emerge from that bathroom.”

“I told you I’d never done it before.”

And that fact that he did it for him made it all the better. “It’s perfect. You should…damn. You need to wear it more.”

“This is only by request; this is a one time thing Pete.”

“Then come here and let me see you up close, since I’ll never see this again.”

Patrick walked up to Pete on the bed. Pete, who was tied down to the bed. “I can’t believe this is part of your deal too.”

“What could be hotter than my best friend – whom I convinced to wear eyeliner for the first time – taking complete advantage of me? Remember, you told me anything I wanted.”

It was true. Last night’s late recording session had drained Patrick, leaving him grumpy to an always-hyper Pete, who wanted to play at three in the morning. A weary Patrick promised Pete he’d do whatever he wanted tomorrow, if he’d just let him finish the song that night.

Pete agreed, and without distraction, Patrick finished the song. And fell subject to Pete’s request, which was to make the mainly submissive Patrick take over. The best way to ensure that? To be tied up, of course. And oh yea, eyeliner. Cause every dominatrix had to wear eyeliner.

Patrick had chuckled. “Pete, I’m not gonna whip you or anything.”

Pete eyebrows had just bounced playfully. “We’ll see.”

So there he was, staring at a naked, hard, and completely restrained Pete through dark smudges. Pete wasn’t allowed to give him any direction; Patrick had to be in complete control. He stood there for a silent moment or two, wondering just how to begin.

“You could start with taking off your clothes.” Pete answered Patrick’s silent question.

“Hey, you’re not allowed to give direction, as per your own rules.” Patrick started shedding his shirt.

“Alright, I’m shutting up. You just needed a little push.”

Patrick just wasn’t used to this. Pete usually was tackling him, ripping at his clothes, and pushing him back into submission. This new role was a bit intimidating. He slithered out of the rest of his clothes and then straddled Pete’s chest. “Remember my deal though if you decide you can’t keep your hands off.”

“Yes yes, I’ll be good. Hands are secure.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts.” Patrick knew Pete had to be the one in control, always. Even though it was Pete who had encouraged something new, he had made his own deal with him for when Pete did, in fact, take over.

Patrick glanced down at Pete, and at his penguin sheets. He had never seen them from this angle—being the one on top. Even though they were his favorite sheets and a comfort to him, they looked oddly out of place with a tan, aroused man tied down to them.

Pete was breathing rapidly, staring at the man across his stomach. “Are you just going to sit there all day?” he growled.

“Shut. Up.” Patrick ordered.

Yea, that was more like it. Pete grinned. “Yes sir.”

His thighs firmly clutching Pete’s midsection, Patrick leaned down for a kiss. He made it slow and dragging, leaving Pete whimpering for more. Once he got over his initial fear, Patrick was quickly deciding he was starting to like this whole dominant thing.

Patrick then kissed him properly, using his tongue to explore every corner of Pete’s mouth. He licked behind his teeth, up the groove on the roof, then went back to massaging his tongue with his own. Right now Pete’s hands would have been playing down Patrick’s body, probably coaxing his erection up. But just their mouths were interacting, intensifying the kiss a million times, and coaxing Patrick’s erection up all on its own.

He groaned and pulled his mouth from Pete’s. What a kiss.

Pete stared up at Patrick. “God, those eyes. You look like such a badass. I can’t get over it. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Yea, I can tell.” He leaned back and let his ass press gently against Pete’s hard cock. Pete growled and closed his eyes, his hands pulling at the restraints. Pete wanted to be in him, now.

“Already want out? Can’t handle it?” Patrick raised an eyebrow to him. “Cause I like seeing you tied down to my sheets. It makes me really, really, hot.”

Oh no. He wasn’t. Pete bit his lip as Patrick started stroking himself right in front of Pete’s face. Patrick groaned at stared at Pete though tiny slits in those kohl lines. Pete’s fingers were itching. Patrick braced one hand against the headboard and leaned forward, still stroking. Right in front of him. Up and down. Up and down.

Pete couldn’t help but lift his head up as far as possible and reach his tongue out. So close. Patrick inched just slightly forward, and Pete made contact. He licked gently under the head, loving Patrick’s groan. Patrick’s hips bucked and Pete was able to fit his lips around the head, sucking hard. Patrick gripped the headboard tighter and stared down at Pete, watching those lips. Around his cock. Patrick’s thighs quivered; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself up for much longer. He pulled out of Pete’s mouth, much to both of their dismay. Pete let out a disappointed groan.

“I’m sure you’d like me to last a bit longer,” Patrick rationalized. “The night has just begun.”

“Ugh, dammit.” Pete laid his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes. He just wanted to touch Patrick. Fuckin’ tease. Suddenly he felt lips at his throat. Wet kisses down his chest. A tongue flicking his nipple. Pete sucked in his breath. Yea, this is what he wanted. Now he remembered why he foolishly decided to be tied up. Patrick could do things like this to him. Lick the lines of his abs. Trace his tattoo. And he could take as much time as he wanted, without Pete flipping them and taking control.

And oh, he took his time indeed. For agonizing moments all he felt was hot breath against his erection. Then, when he was about to rip his hands free, Patrick traced a wet line from Pete’s base up to the tip. Pete swore and arched up. His hands balled into fists.

Patrick’s mouth came fully down, as deep as he could take Pete in. Then he moved up slowly, lubricating Pete’s cock as much as possible. His tongue worked overtime until he could see the glisten of his work when he pulled back. Shit, it was just waiting for him, hard and stiff and wet.

Patrick had wanted to tease him more. He had wanted to play with Pete, perhaps even make him beg. Instead, he was straddling Pete’s hips, positioning Pete’s tip right into place. He paused over him, watching Pete’s chest heave in anticipation. He could feel Pete pulsing underneath him.

“Fuck, Patrick.” Pete’s hips bucked.

There it was. Patrick smiled. A little pleading was all he needed. He braced his hands on Pete’s hips and slowly slid down.

They both groaned as Patrick slid completely into place. This part was familiar—the slight stretching, the sensation of being so full, but it was he who had to move. He rocked his hips forward. Pete sucked in his breath. He did it again, this time sliding up and back down. Again. And again. Faster. Harder.

Patrick watched Pete’s ab muscles work as his hips met each thrust. The strain in his biceps as he pulled the restraints. He was never able to watch Pete like this. And now he could watch each muscle work as it brought Pete closer and closer to orgasm. Patrick moved faster until he was actually bouncing. The headboard hit the wall in time with each thrust.

“Patrick,” Pete gasped his name. His fingers were clawing at the air. “I…can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Patrick kept bouncing, breathing heavily.

“I need…” he groaned. “Damn, I need to—”

“You’re sure?” Pete bit his lip and nodded. “You know this means—”

“Yes I don’t care.” Patrick gripped him tighter. Bounce. Bounce. “Fuck just untie me.”

Patrick gave in. He slowed down just enough so he could untie the knots of fabric holding his wrists. The moment one was free it went straight to Patrick erection. He hissed. It took him twice as long to untie the second.

The second Pete was unbound he grabbed Patrick and flipped him on his back. Then proceeded to pound into him. Patrick was inwardly slightly disappointed. He had been enjoying something new, and this was how it always was. Yet he didn’t complain. Pete liked control and Patrick liked being controlled by him. It actually worked quite well.

Pete couldn’t keep up his stroking the faster he moved, so he kind of just gripped Patrick, holding on while their hips banged together.

“Sorry I couldn’t…hold out any longer,” Pete breathed, looking down at him.

“It’s fine.” Patrick played a hand through Pete’s hair. “I like it better this way anyhow.”

“Yuh,” was Pete’s response/moan. He shut his eyes and Patrick watched him tremble; he was getting close.

Patrick gripped the headboard behind him. When Pete gets close, he damn near breaks the whole bed. Patrick groaned and turned his head to the side. Right in front of his eyes was a smiling, fat black and white creature. Ugh. His stupid sheets. Now was not the time to be thinking of them. Or the dumb look on the penguin’s face. The stupid happy grin. What the fuck did it have to be happy about? It was a cartoon penguin on a grown man’s bed.

Shit. Stop thinking. Watch Pete’s face as he comes. That little ‘o’ his mouth forms. Pete nearly had Patrick’s cock in a death grip as he swore loudly and came, making Patrick do his famous lip bite and reach his own orgasm. He clutched onto Pete and whimpered as he spilled out between them. Pete’s thrusts slowed down, eventually coming to a stop over Patrick.

“Shit.” Pete wiped at a smudge of eyeliner that trailed down Patrick’s cheek. “I…damn, I’m sorry.”

“No it’s cool, I figured you wouldn’t last Pete. But you tried as long as possible.”

“It was just you on top of me, bouncing and shit…your hair was actually flying all over the place.” Pete grinned. “It had to be the hottest thing in my life,” he kissed Patrick’s lips. “It was so amazing, and I had to go and stop it cause I needed to have you my way. I mean, you had the eyeliner and everything. And I can’t even follow my own deal.”

“This just means you have to follow my deal.”

Pete groaned and laid his head against Patrick’s shoulder. “If you really loved me you wouldn’t make me do it.”

“If you really loved me you would.”

Pete lifted his head and looked into Patrick’s makeup covered eyes. “You’re lucky I really love you, then.”


* * *
Patrick bounced his leg under his chair. Pete was late. He had a good guess as to why; but a deal was a deal. That punk had better show up.

“Pete is coming, right?” The record executive asked Patrick.

“Oh yea. He better.” They were playing a few tracks for the record company today, showing them the progress of the album thus far. They were supposed to meet in the studio at ten.

“Is Pete usually late?”

“No, he’s actually great about these kind of things.”

It was then they heard the door open. Their heads turned as Pete walked into the room. No, sauntered. Wearing high heels, it was the only way to walk.

Patrick had to stifle his laugh. His eyes traveled up the length of Pete’s body, taking in the tight pink leather miniskirt that clung to Pete like second skin. His navel was exposed by the shimmery matching pink tube top.

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” Pete’s eyes met Patrick’s. Oh, how Patrick was dying. He had to bite his fist to stop from exploding into laughter.

The executive sat there stunned, staring at Pete. “What’s…going on?”

“It’s called artistic freedom. I’m expressing myself creatively. This is what I like to wear when I’m in the studio.” It was the confidence he alluded while wearing the outfit that made it even more awesome.

He took a seat next to Patrick; Patrick fully enjoyed watching him do so. The leather groaned loudly as Pete positioned himself down in the seat. He tried crossing his legs, stiffly lifting one leg up and, with much difficulty, folding it over his knee. The leather shifted and creaked as Pete adjusted himself. The three men stayed awkwardly silent.

“Well,” Patrick started, jumping up. “Shall we get started?”


* * *
Patrick grinned at Pete from across the room. The record executive had just left. “I can’t believe you actually did it.”

“I had to; we had a deal. And I broke mine, so,” he said, walking up to Patrick. “Besides, if I’m ever gonna want you to put on eyeliner again and ride me, I have to follow through.”

Patrick placed his hands on the pink leather clad hips and grinned. “Oh, so you want it again?”

Pete leaned forward and nibbled at Patrick’s lips. “Oh, yea. And next time I’ll follow through so I don’t have to wear this ridiculous outfit again.”

Patrick slid his hands around Pete’s waist and cupped his ass. “I have to say though, you look quite hot in this little getup.”

“Oh, you like it?”

“Hmm. The pumps really top it off.”

“Plus they make my calves look great.”

“And your ass. But then again when does it not?” Patrick’s fingers traveled under the bottom of the skirt to trace the curve of one of his cheeks. Pete shuddered and leaned against Patrick.

“Okay home. Now,” he muttered into Patrick’s neck.

“Under one condition.”

Pete groaned. “No, no more deals.” Patrick did this horrible pouting thing that made Pete cave and ask “what?”

He smiled against Pete’s lips. “Leave the pumps on.”