Title: Is this for real? Ch. 3
Summary: Pete and Masturbation. Plure and simple.
Rating: R to NC-17 Depending on how you feel about masturbation
Author notes: Here you go. Another chapter in less then a week. I must love you all. HAHAHA! Enjoy everyone! It gets more interesting down the road too!
Pete finished his interview with the contest winners. Who would have thought you could get frost bite on that much of your body. Hmm… Now, what did I want to do? Oh yeah. Andy. I need to find- His thoughts were stopped abruptly by him actually running into Andy, whom he had knocked on the floor.
Pete looked down at the drummer. “Here.” Pete held out his hand. Andy looked at his hand, reluctantly. “Come on. You can’t avoid me forever, you know.” Andy, admitting defeat, took Pete’s hand and hoisted himself up.
He looked at Pete for a minute, and then cleared his throat. Pete cut his thoughts off before he was able to say anything.
“Hey, so, we should probably talk sometime soon.”
Andy had never seen Pete like this. He was nervous, shy, and apprehensive. Is this what he’s like when he is trying to court someone? Did I just actually use the word court? God I need to get out more. Wait, why do I care what he does when he wants to get with someone. I’m not interested. Am I? He shook his head and looked at Pete, who had a dumb grin on his face.
“I don’t know what you are talking about Pete. We talk all the time. We are in a band together, remember?” Andy emphasized the last word more then he probably should have, wanting to make a point about dating band members and hopefully let Pete know he wasn’t really interested, even if he didn’t know if he was or not yet.
“You know what I’m talking about, Andy. I know you and ‘Trick talked.” Pete seemed to get a gleam in his eyes. “It can wait ‘til after the show, but I do want to talk to you about things.” Andy realized he and Pete were still holding hands, Pete squeezing his a little harder as he looked in Andy’s eyes.
Andy swallowed and tried to pull his hand away. Why is he like this? Does he really think that everyone is attracted to him? Am I attracted to him? Dude, he’s Pete. He’s in the band. I so can’t think about this. This isn’t happening.
Pete finally let his hand go, smiling. He held the look for a moment longer, then as he turned and left he winked at Andy.
As Pete rounded a corner to go into the dressing room, Joe came out and saw Andy standing there. “You ok, man?”
“Yeah, I think.” Andy wiped his face with his hands and then followed Joe to the stage to make sure things were set up the way they liked.
The show went off fairly normally. The only difference was that instead of Pete going up to Patrick and pretending to kiss him, or rub up against his ass, Pete spent a lot of time over by the drum kit. More then usual, Pete jumped off the drum kit, played next to the drums. Very rarely did he spend this much time by the drums, on the back of the stage. Patrick was annoyed but decided not to let it affect his performance. The few occasions Pete DID come up to him, he made a point of stepping on his foot, or poking him in the back with his guitar. Pete could tell Patrick was mad, not like it was hard to tell.
After the show, Patrick left almost immediately, claiming sick, and crawled into his bunk on the bus, trying to force himself to sleep. Pete knew Patrick wasn’t really sick, but he had bigger things on his mind at the moment. He wanted to find Andy.
Andy was talking with a few fans outside the venue, signing autographs and whatnot. Pete came up behind him and grabbed his ass. Andy jumped. The girls squealed at Pete, loving him, wanting him, and loving how affectionate he was with his band mates. Little did these girls know that they weren’t exactly his type. He liked people with other anatomy parts, so to speak.
Pete signed autographs and posed for pictures before realizing Andy had disappeared. He sighed and went to the bus. Before anyone could talk to him he crawled into his bunk, which was right below Patrick’s, and took out his phone. He sent a message to Patrick. : Hey. I’m sorry you think I’m an ass. I don’t want you to hate me forever. What can I do? You are my best friend:
After sending that one, he decided to send a message to Andy. : You run away so fast. I need to talk to you about what Trick told you. Its true and I want to see what happens. Even if you say you aren’t, I know you are curious:
Andy got the text message, in his bunk, and sighed. He sent Pete one back. : No, man, I’m not. I’m not like that. I know you think everyone in the world wants you, but it’s just not true. And besides, Patrick is our friend. It’s not fair to him:
Pete’s heart fell, only for a second. : Trick is a big boy, and he can get over things. You aren’t going to get rid of me that easily: Pete put his phone away and lay down on his pillow. He wasn’t tired yet; in fact he was completely wired from the show. And, if he was being honest with himself, he was really turned on by the fact that Andy was going to play hard to get. Pete liked a challenge. Pete pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and slowly brought his hand down to his tight jeans, feeling himself, already bulging and pulsing.
Pete slowly unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans, which was a feat in and of it self, mostly because girls jeans just aren’t meant for masturbation. He closed his eyes and pictured Andy on the drums earlier that night, the wild man, crazy, animal-type player. He growled in the back of his throat as he pulled himself out from his denim chamber. Instantly stifling his moans, remembering there were other people in the bus, he needed to keep things down. He could NOT have everyone hearing his again. Last time was embarrassing enough. He DID have a little dignity, after all. Little, yes, but still some.
Pete heard Patrick move, settling himself to sleep. He knew Patrick’s movements by now. They had been together on and off for over a year and were friends well before that. Pete sighed, relieved that Patrick was finally sleeping. He began to move his hand along his pulsing cock, biting his lower lip not to moan out loud. In his head, he was screaming. The image of Andy on his drum kit, beating the hell out of them, sent chills up and down his spine and forced Pete to move his hand faster.
Pete could see the sweat dripping off Andy’s shirtless frame. He pumped his fist faster and, in his mind, walked over to Andy and licked some of the sweat that was dripping down his collarbone.
The thought of the way Andy’s sweat tasted made Pete spill over. Pete hadn’t done that in a long time, not since he and Patrick had split. Pete looked down, and saw the mess he had created in his bunk. Everything was sticky and messy. He smiled to himself as he reached for the box of tissues he kept at the head, just in case. He did the best he could at cleaning up and zipped himself back in his denim dungeon. He climbed out of his bunk, trying his best to be silent, grabbed some pj bottoms and went into the tiny bathroom.
He stripped himself down, taking a washcloth and cleaning himself better. Note to self, wash sheets. He laughed at himself. After cleaning things up, he got dressed again and went back to his bunk. The mess wasn’t as bad as he thought, most of it went on him and his jeans. Damn, now those have to be washed. Guess I will have to break in a new pair tomorrow. He climbed back in and slowly drifted off to sleep, again thinking about Andy and his sweaty collarbone.