drive_through_rx: (cracked)
Today, I made my first and second audiofic. One was original, and this one is an old story I wrote back when I was seriously into bandom.

Text: Fall Out Boy, Pete/Patrick, R.

Audio: Tell Me What My Hands Were Made For. Tell Me Who My Mouth Was Made For.


I will be doing Heroes audiofic soon. Please let me know what you think, and what stories you would like to hear!
drive_through_rx: (fall out boy)
[livejournal.com profile] omgimnaked showed me that Patrick Stump has lost his sideburns, and then wished for short Patrick/Joe, so that's what I did.

Smooth
Patrick Stump/Joe Trohman
Fluff


Joe sleeps hard, like he's got something to prove about being unconscious. Usually, Patrick thinks it's endearing, even if it does mean he usually has breakfast alone, but today it's more useful than cute. It means no one's mocking him about taking Pete-worthy amounts of time in the bathroom this morning, and it means that when he's done, making uncertain faces at himself in the mirror, there's no immediate feedback to make him feel even less sure.

When he slips back into bed, stealing heat from Joe's shins to warm his feet up, Patrick realizes that even the pillow feels different now; when he leans in to steal a kiss that half-rouses Joe, his cheeks are vulnerable to the prickle of unkempt beard. Joe mutters something, shifts and throws an arm around Patrick to haul him closer, but his eyes snap open when his lips hit skin and just keep dragging, smooth from the bow of Patrick's lips to the corner of his jaw.

"Where'd it go?" he asks, stupid with sleep, and Patrick raises both eyebrows, sarcastic and self-conscious.

"Sideburn heaven," he says, and Joe just nods like that makes sense, cups a hand to Patrick's jaw and kisses his cheek again.

"Cool. Like it like that." It's so new, the shiny bright feeling of bare skin where it's been covered for so long, and it tickles when Joe rubs his cheek along Patrick's, slow and sweet and laughing quietly. "Smooth move, Stump."

It doesn't matter that he's still not quite awake, Patrick can't let that go by without hitting him.
drive_through_rx: (fall out boy)
Pete/Patrick, hard R, written for [livejournal.com profile] sixwhitelies and based on the above lyric from Tegan and Sara's Come On.

Headphones tight over his ears, fingers busy going between his laptop beside him and the guitar on his lap, Patrick neither saw nor heard anyone come into the room, completely encompassed in his work. but that way lies disaster. )
drive_through_rx: (fall out boy)
Title: Missed Connections
Fandom: Fall Out Boy (Andy/Patrick)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,225
Notes: Written for [livejournal.com profile] becomingblurred as part of the [livejournal.com profile] slutrick ficathon; I'm sorry it's so belated, forgive me! Helped along considerably by the [livejournal.com profile] itsproductivity prompt for July 11.

if a, then b, otherwise c. prove or disprove d. )
drive_through_rx: (author)
Title: Cannabis and Cucumbers (or, Travis and Joe's Excellent Adventure)
Pairing: Travis McCoy/Joe Trohman
Rating: R
Words: 1,457
Notes: Written for [livejournal.com profile] omgimnaked and the July 2 prompt at [livejournal.com profile] itsproductivity.

shopping lists are for pussies. )
drive_through_rx: (fall out boy)
It's been an embarrassingly long time since I've posted anything here, mostly because I've spent the past year and a few months uh, writing basically original character porn over on greatestjournal. At least I'm honest! But, shaking it up, this place is going to be used again, as a place to archive all my bandslash, because well, sometimes it's okay to hide your fanlife from real people. >>

SO. To kick off the re-inauguration of this journal, have some Fall Out Boy gen.


Title: Hotel Rooms
Rating: PG
Word Count: idk, too lazy to check this one. It's a drabble, for god's sake.

--

It seems silly, that Joe gets lonely in his hotel room now, but he's been so used to sharing the van or the bus or, hell, cramming the four of them in one hotel room and ending up (more likely than not) with Pete's feet in his face or Patrick's little snores like a lullabye; he figures it makes sense, and the other guys don't mind too much.

Well, Andy was pretty pissed the time Joe walked in on him in bed with those two chicks, but he totally hadn't put up the Do Not Disturb so it was his fault. Or so Joe insisted.

Patrick's the most understanding; he doesn't even wait for Joe to ask, just hands him the spare key to his hotel room like it's no big deal. He would be the one who got it, Joe gets that-- they've got things in common that Andy and Pete don't share with them, formative years spent on the road, in the van, doing the last of their growing up side by side in gigs and truck stops and cheap motel rooms when they could afford them.

So when Joe feels lonely, like he can't stand the night on his own any more, he sneaks down the hall, giving Patrick a courtesy knock before he lets himself in. Patrick's got his headphones on, messing around on his laptop, and he startles when Joe sinks onto the bed next to him, curly hair suddenly brushing his cheek. "Jesus Christ," he gasps, but he's grinning when he shoves Joe lightly. "Warn a guy next time."

"I thought you always expected me," Joe said, and Patrick rolls his eyes fondly and lets Joe snuggle up to his side, head against Patrick's shoulder, watching him play around on the internet for a while. They don't say much; there's not much to say, just the comfortable companionship of two bandmates who occasionally (or possibly frequently, now) cuddle and sleep tangled like kittens.

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