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Patrick told him earlier that they were going to watch Star Wars in Joe's room and Pete was totally on board with that. However, they're barely past the opening scroll and now Pete has suddenly found himself flat on his back against the bed. Joe has his wrists pinned above his head, Patrick is sitting on his legs. He could think of worse positions to be in sure, but Pete still feels like he's missed a memo somewhere along the line.
"Guys?"
"Dude, look," Patrick starts. "You know we love you and all, but we're this close to snapping and killing you."
"Um..." Pete looks at Patrick, waiting for some further explanation. When he doesn't get one, he looks up at Joe. "You want to fill me in here, Trohman?"
"Okay. What Patrick is trying to say is, you need to calm the fuck down or we're going to start restricting your redbull intake."
"It's not that..." Pete starts to say. "Nevermind. Whatever. Fine. I'll try and leave you two the fuck alone if I'm bothering you that much. Now get off of me."
"It's not what?" Patrick asks quietly.
Pete grits his teeth, doesn't answer.
"Come on, dude. You can tell us," Joe says, in that same soothing tone. It's really not helping the fact that they are on top of him.
"I'm not hopped up on caffeine. I just haven't gotten laid in forever, okay?" Pete tries to shift a little, but they've got him pinned to the bed quite effectively. It should be uncomfortable but instead he's starting to get hard. "So unless you want to do something about it, get the fuck off me."
Patrick looks at him for a long moment as though he's processing what Pete said and then he looks up at Joe. They seem to be having some sort of silent exchange and finally Joe nods.
"We can do that," Patrick says and Pete lets out a sigh of relief. He's going to go back to his room, jerk off and try to stay out of everyone's way.
Except that neither of them are moving.
Pete's about to say something when Patrick reaches out and presses the palm of his hand over Pete's crotch and Pete jerks, trying to get away but all he really ends up doing is making himself even more obvious.
Patrick laughs, because he is a terrible best friend, and says, "I think we picked the right option," before undoing the button on Pete's jeans.
He starts to pull Pete's jeans down over his hips and Pete starts to panic a little bit. He's done some weird shit in his life, but an impromptu threesome with two of his best friends is, so far, not on that list. Patrick climbs off of him to tug his jeans off the rest of the way and Pete struggles against Joe's grip, now that he's got a little bit more room to move.
Patrick stops what he's doing. He's standing between Pete's legs as he says, "Do you...not want this?"
Pete doesn't say anything. Of course he wants it. He was getting hard just thinking about it, before he even knew it was even a possibility. Why does he have to actually say it?
Patrick makes an exasperated noise -- one that Pete is fairly familiar with -- and rubs the bridge of his nose. He looks to Joe and says, "You deal with him," before walking off.
The bed dips as Joe is shifting above him, and he somehow manages to get both of Pete's wrists in one hand and curl up next to him.
"We just wanted to help." Joe is stroking the fingers of his free hand over Pete's collarbone and all Pete wants to do is sigh and arch into the touch. "But if this isn't the way you're going to have to say something, dude."
Pete stares up at the ceiling. Don't leave this up to me, don't make me have to say it.
Joe curls his fingers underneath his jaw, turns Pete's chin towards him so that Pete has no choice but to look at him. He thinks for a brief moment about shutting his eyes, just out of spite.
"Pete. Come on. Talk to me."
"I want it," Pete says, sounding more like a petulant child than he means to. "I want both of you."
Joe presses a soft kiss to his mouth and Pete wishes he could touch him, tangle his fingers in Joe's hair. Patrick reappears a moment later.
"Well?" he asks, arms crossed over his chest.
"We're good to go," Joe tells him, grinning.
"Good." Patrick smiles. Pete catches a glimpse something that may or may not be condoms in his hand before he sets whatever it is down on the bed next to Pete and kneels between his legs. "You always have to make things more complicated than they need to be, don't you?"
Normally, Pete would flip him off, but as he doesn't have the use of his hands at the moment he makes a face instead. Patrick laughs as he slides his hands up Pete's thighs, hooks his fingers under the elastic of Pete's briefs and pulls them off.
Pete puts a foot in the center of Patrick's chest as he starts to lean back down.
"Play nice," Joe whispers in his ear. "Don't make us have to tie you to the bed."
Pete would call his bluff -- it's a hotel bed, there's not really anything to tie him to -- but that image gets stuck in his head and he can't make his mouth form words at the moment. By the time he can think again, Patrick is settled between his spread legs, his hands firmly planted on Pete's hips. Pete's working on a smart ass remark but then Patrick bends his head and licks a line up the underside of Pete's cock and the only thing that comes out of Pete's mouth is a long, low moan.
Joe laughs against his neck. "Hey, Patrick. I think he liked that."
"Fuck you," Pete spits out and Joe laughs again.
He drags his teeth over Pete's earlobe. "Not what we have in mind."
Pete twists his hands again and tries to break free of Joe's grip. He gets a thumb nail digging into the sensitive part of his wrist for his trouble. He sighs and stops struggling.
"Pete. You're going to want to pay attention to this, I think," Joe says as he sits up.
Pete stares at him, waiting and then he feels Patrick's mouth, warm and wet closing around him and his hips jerk up involuntarily. Or they would have if Patrick wasn't keeping him firmly in place. His grip is a lot stronger than Pete would've expected.
Patrick's mouth is gone far too soon and Pete whimpers at the loss. Patrick reaches for something and Pete hears the sound of a bottle being uncapped. It doesn't take him long to figure out that it was condoms and lube that Patrick had set down beside him earlier.
Pete shuts his eyes tight and bites down on his bottom lip as Patrick's fingers press into him.
"Relax, dumbass," Patrick says. He presses a kiss to the inside of Pete's thigh.
Joe rubs a hand soothingly over Pete's stomach.
"Don't worry, man. Patrick knows what he's doing."
Patrick slowly works two fingers inside of Pete. He looks at Joe, smirking, as he says, "Thanks."
Pete would ask how they managed to keep that a secret but he's a little busy gasping and arching his back and pressing back against Patrick's hand.
He feels a twinge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach as Patrick's fingers stretch and twist inside of him. They do this. They do this with each other and never bothered to let him in on the secret until now.
Joe bends down to kiss him and Pete kisses back as roughly as he can, bites at Joe's mouth. Joe's hand comes to rest at Pete's throat and Pete stills. He breathes in and out slowly, expecting Joe to apply pressure at any moment but he never does. Instead Joe continues to kiss him, slowly and thoroughly, rubbing his thumb in little circles as Pete moans into his mouth every time Patrick curls his fingers.
"Fuck," Pete groans, arching up as much as he can despite the grip that Patrick still has on his one hip. "Patrick." He screws his eyes shut tight as Patrick's fingers brush against that spot that makes fireworks go off behind his eyes.
He hears Patrick's voice say, "Pete. Hey, look at me." Pete opens his eyes and Patrick's expression is a mix of desire and tenderness. "Tell me what you need," he says quietly.
Pete bites nervously at his bottom lip. He tries to make his mouth form the words but they get stuck in the back of his throat. He looks back at Joe, hoping he'll understand.
"It's just us," Joe says.
"Please," Pete manages. He hopes they can hear the desperation in his voice, hopes that will be enough.
"Pete, come on," Patrick says, and Pete can hear that hint of irritation in his voice. He starts easing his fingers out and Pete whines at the loss.
"No, don't. I want. Please."
Joe slides his hand down Pete's chest, presses his mouth to Pete's neck, sucks on his pulse and says, "Have to say it, Pete. Tell us what you want."
Pete shuts his eyes again. Breathes in and out slowly.
"Fuck me," he says. When he finally opens his eyes, Patrick's looking down at him, smiling.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Pete is about to complain, because yes, it really was, when Patrick leans down and presses a kiss to his stomach. "I'm going to make it so good for you."
He stands back up and shoves his jeans and boxers down, stepping out of them and rolling on a condom. And that, that is a sight. Not that Pete hasn't seen Patrick naked before, but this is something else entirely different.
Oh god, Pete thinks, this is going to be over so fast.
"Dude, I think we need to regroup," Joe says. Patrick nods. Joe tugs at his wrists until he's sitting upright again. Patrick's hands replace Joe's and Joe moves behind him, legs on either side of his waist, his hands on Pete's hips, urging him to lean back against Joe's chest.
Patrick says, "Take off his shirt," as he lets go of Pete's hands. Joe starts to pull his shirt up over his head and Pete raises his arms.
Patrick kneels in front of him and Pete takes advantage of this new found freedom, reaches out and lets his hands settle Patrick's shoulders, trying to pull Patrick forward, even though it's abundantly clear that Patrick isn't going to move until he's ready to.
"When are you going to kiss me?" Pete asks.
A smile quirks across Patrick's lips as he finally moves closer.
"Now."
Patrick presses his mouth against Pete's and Pete curls his hands around Patrick's jaw as he opens up underneath him.
Finally.
And then there's the blunt pressure of Patrick pushing inside of him and it's almost too much, sensory overload. It hurts, but soon enough the pain is ebbing away and something sparks in the pit of his stomach and Pete doesn't know what to do with himself.
Patrick leans back and says, "Hold him."
Joe slides his hands down Pete's arms, wrapping his fingers around Pete's wrists again. He pulls Pete's hands away from Patrick, pressing them back against his chest and pinning them there with one arm as Patrick starts to move in earnest.
Pete tilts his head back against Joe's shoulder and tries to swallow the quiet needy sounds that keep escaping from his mouth every time Patrick slams back into him.
"It's good, isn't it?" Joe says. He reaches down and curls a hand around Pete's dick, jerks him off to the same rhythm that Patrick's fucking him.
"Yeah," Pete gasps.
Joe makes a contented sound and Pete can feel him smile against his neck. And then he feels Joe's mouth, warm and wet against his skin and Pete can't help thinking about the marks he's going to have tomorrow. Hickeys from Joe, bruises on his hips from Patrick. Patrick groans, gripping Pete's hips even tighter as he thrusts into him. Those bruises are going to be pretty spectacular.
"Fuck, you're tight." Patrick looks at him, a glint in his eye. "Don't tell me I'm actually your first?"
"Hardly," Pete says. He's not about to give Patrick the satisfaction of knowing the truth.
Because Pete's been fucked plenty okay, just never by a dick that was actually attached to a guy before. And maybe Patrick's dick is a million times better than any vibrator or strap on, but Patrick doesn't need to know that. Pete's pretty sure that if he told him this, Patrick would never let him live it down.
"God, you're a shitty liar." Patrick laughs. Pete scowls, because seriously, he could be less of a douche about taking Pete's sort-of virginity.
"Hey," he says, softly, cupping Pete's face in his hands. Patrick kisses him slowly and Pete's already pretty much forgiven him by the time he says, "I'm sorry. It's kind of awesome actually."
Patrick smiles at him and then up at Joe. Pete can't help the stab of jealousy he feels when Patrick curls a hand against Joe's face and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth.
It's not that they aren't paying attention to him -- that's actually the first time they've even touched each other since it started -- it's more the knowledge that when this is over, it's really over for him, but they'll still have each other.
Patrick says, "I think it's your turn now," and Pete wonders idly if they do this a lot, or if he's like, a special exception or something.
"Awesome," Joe says. He kisses Patrick back and tightens the arm he has across Pete's chest. He rolls his hips and Pete cannot wait to be able to see the hard-on that he's until now only felt pressing against his back.
Patrick eases out of him slowly as Joe disentangles himself and crawls off the bed. Pete lays back, closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath for a moment, as they shift around him.
He opens them again when he feels strong hands on his waist, sliding him down towards the end of the bed. Patrick's sitting next to him, jerking off slowly. At some point he lost his shirt and the condom and Pete can see the precome glistening at the head of Patrick's dick as it slips through his fist.
Joe is standing at the foot of the bed -- also naked, Pete's a little sad he had his eyes closed while that was happening -- and he's staring down at Pete. It makes Pete's breath hitch a little, because Pete knows a 'I'm going to fuck your brains out' look when he sees one. He tightens his hold on Pete's waist, urges him to roll over and Pete complies. Patrick reaches for him, helping move him into position and a moment later Pete's bent over the bed, legs spread wide, his hands braced against Patrick's thighs as Joe rubs a lube slicked finger down Pete's ass.
"Fuck," Pete groans, his hips bucking forward. "Joe, please."
Joe runs his hands over Pete's back and says, "I kind of like hearing him beg."
Patrick murmurs, "Me too."
Joe presses a kiss to the small of Pete's back and Pete sighs. He feels Joe tracing over the raised edges of his tattoo with one hand, the other slides back down to his waist, his thumb stroking over Pete's hipbone. Pete groans and buries his face in Patrick's chest as Joe pushes inside of him a moment later.
Joe doesn't waste any time teasing or going slow. He picks up his pace quickly and Pete can't keep from moaning, hears himself getting louder every time Joe's hips slam against him.
Patrick strokes his fingers through Pete's hair, says, "It's okay. We've got you."
"Joe, please," Pete begs. "Touch me. I, I need it." He doesn't care how desperate he sounds, he's so close, he feels like he's going to explode if he doesn't come soon.
"Okay, okay," Joe's voice soothes. "But first..." He runs a hand up Pete's spine, resting it at the base of his neck, rubbing lightly. "I think you should get Patrick off. This was kind of his idea." He slides his fingers into Pete's hair and presses his head down firmly.
Pete stares down at Patrick's dick and he can't help licking his lips a little. He knows he's going to be terrible at this, but he's never wanted to do it more in his life. He looks up at Patrick through his eyelashes and licks his lips again.
"Fuck," Patrick whispers and Pete grins at him.
Patrick curls a hand around the base of his dick as Pete lets Joe push him down further. Pete wraps his mouth around the head and sucks a little before sliding down as far as he can without choking. His moans are muffled when Joe angles his hips, fucking him deeper than before.
Apparently, Patrick likes that, because Pete can hear him gasp as his hips jerk up. Pete does it again and gets the same result, but this time Patrick's fingers twist in his hair.
Joe tightens his grip on the back of Pete's neck. "You want Patrick to fuck your mouth, don't you?"
Pete moans his response around Patrick's dick and Patrick makes a low, growly sound in the back of his throat. He tugs on Pete's hair as he fucks his mouth. Pete gets the hang of breathing through his nose pretty quickly after Patrick's dick hits the back of his throat the first time.
Pete feels Patrick's thighs tensing underneath his fingers and soon Patrick's panting, "Pete. Pete, I'm close."
Pete doesn't know any way to convey the fact that he wants Patrick to come in his mouth other than to keep his mouth right where it is until after Patrick comes. So that's exactly what he does. He moans around Patrick, rubs his hands over his thighs and Patrick arches up into his mouth. Pete makes his best attempt at swallowing, but Patrick pushes him off and the rest of his release ends up across Pete's cheek and chin.
Patrick leans back, letting his breathing slow to normal before reaching out and wiping the come from Pete's face. Pete smiles at him, leaning into the touch.
Joe snaps his hips forward sharply and Pete cries out, "Fuck, Trohman. Come on, hold up your end of the bargain."
"I'm going to," Joe says, finally reaching between Pete's legs to jerk him off. "Have some patience, dude."
"Fuck, patience," Pete growls. He rests his forehead against one of Patrick's thighs and fists his hands in the comforter.
Joe tightens his grip on Pete's dick, strokes him roughly, and Pete can feel his orgasm building in the base of his spine. He's almost there. Joe's thrusts have become erratic and Pete can tell he's close too.
"Joe," Pete whines. "Come on."
Joe pulls all the way and slams back into him hard. Pete can feel his toes curling in the hotel carpet just before he arches and throws his head back, spilling over Joe's fist. He slumps against the bed and Patrick afterward. Joe follows shortly after, continuing to fuck him through his own orgasm. As he eases out, Pete is really glad they don't have a show tomorrow because he's not sure he's going to be able to walk.
The bed dips as Joe curls up next to Patrick and Pete doesn't want to move. Doesn't want to think. He feels boneless, worn out. He doesn't want to have to clean himself up, put clothes on, go back to his own room. He doesn't want to, but knows he has to. If he can manage all that without there being any awkwardness, he figures he'll be in pretty good shape.
Patrick kicks at Joe and says, "Dude, go get a washcloth."
"Why do I have to?"
"Because I have a Wentz on top of me."
He hears Joe sigh before he rolls off the bed. Now is probably the time for Pete to collect his clothes and leave. But as he attempts to stand Patrick reaches for him.
"Come here," he says sleepily, pulling Pete down next to him and throwing an arm around his waist.
"Hey, fuck you guys," Joe says as he crawls up next to Pete. "Starting the cuddles without me."
"Had to," Patrick says around a yawn. "I'm pretty sure he was trying to get away."
Joe shakes his head as he hands Patrick the washcloth.
"Don't be stupid, dude. We give awesome cuddles."
Pete's about to say he's very aware of this fact. He's cuddled -- platonically -- with both of them more than once over the years. But Patrick's in the middle of wiping the remaining streaks of come from his face at present. He finishes cleaning up Pete, then himself, before handing the cloth back to Joe, who tosses it onto the bedside table.
Joe throws his arm over Patrick's as he curls up along side Pete. Patrick already has his eyes closed and Pete is currently trying to figure out how long it will take for them both to fall asleep and how he's going to maneuver out from under them.
"You're going to sleep in here with us tonight," Joe mumbles against the back of his neck.
"Um," Pete says.
"Stop it," Patrick says, not even bothering to open his eyes. "We're not letting you freak out about this." He snuggles into his pillow and pulls Pete closer.
"I'm not. I just don't. I don't understand."
"It's not that difficult, dude," Joe says. Pete turns to look at him. "We want you too."
"We have for a long time," Patrick says. When Pete looks back, Patrick's blinking sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. "If we'd known all we had to do was hold you down for a few minutes, we would've tried that years ago."
Patrick just said years. Patrick and Joe have wanted him for years. Pete is having a harder time reconciling this than the fact that they just all had sex together.
"Oh," is all he can think to say.
Patrick rolls his eyes. "You're making things complicated again."
"Sorry," Pete whispers.
Patrick rolls away from him, slides off the bed and digs through his bag before pulling on a clean t-shirt and pair of boxers. He walks back towards the bed and he and Joe are doing that silent conversation thing again. Joe hops off the bed and returns with two pairs of boxers. He hands pair to Pete and tries not to fall over as he stands on one foot as he puts his own on.
Patrick says, "Up," and gestures for him to get off the bed.
"Maybe you'll understand when I tell you," Patrick says after he's pulled the blankets back. "You're going to sleep in here tonight."
Pete nods hesistantly before climbing under the covers. He falls asleep tangled between the two of them.
He wakes up the next morning to the sound of the two of them talking softly around him. Pete hasn't sleep so soundly in ages. He doesn't want to open his eyes just yet, maybe he can hold on and sleep just a little longer.
"Can we keep him?" Joe whispers.
"I think he has to decide that," Patrick says. "He's waking up. We can ask."
"Pete." Joe pokes him in the ribs. "Are you awake?"
"I was trying not to be," Pete mumbles.
"This is important, wake up. We want to know if we can keep you."
Pete stares at Joe a moment, like he's possibly lost his mind. He looks over to Patrick, who has the same expectant look on his face. Joe's rubbing a hand over Pete's stomach, Patrick is brushing his bangs out his eyes.
"I can really have both of you? It wasn't just...like a one time thing?"
"That's what we've been trying to tell you, dumbass," Patrick says.
"Oh."
"Well?" Joe asks. Pete realizes they're still waiting on an answer. There are so many reason why this is a bad idea, but as Joe's hand dips underneath the waistband of his boxers, he's finding he doesn't care about any of them.
"Yeah," he says softly, "Yeah, you can keep me."
Patrick leans in to kiss him and says, "That was the right answer."