Comments. Are. Appreciated. Like please I love comments. I am CommentSlut™. Also some Bobtrick. Not much but I decided to make Bob a good guy for once because there isn't enough Bobtrick in this world *choked sobs*. Anywhore, it's turned from non-con to consensual non-con (i.e. Rape play. 10/10, I fucking hate myself but I need 100 kinks)

Patrick wakes up a few hours later still wrapped in Gerard's arms with a black dreads tickling his neck and shoulder, moonlight trickles through the window in the kitchen and Bob is across from them, dull eyes glued to his computer. Patrick frowns, he can't remember if Bob was added to the list or not or why he wasn't. He does like Bob, quite a bit actually, but he isn't entirely sure why Elisa didn't email him.

Patrick doesn't confront him, though, or not right away at least. He just grabs his boxers from the end of the bed, slipping them on under the covers and peels himself from Gerard as he continues to get dressed. He feels those green eyes on them, he knows Bob's watching and yeah, shit, that's kind of a turn on. He's tempted to tease it but doesn't, just focuses on grabbing his shirt and jeans and belt and turning back to Bob with a questioning look.

"Why didn't Elisa email you, you know?" Patrick asks, leaning over Bob's bunk.

The ginger tongues his lip ring for a moment before reply, "She didn't think you'd be into the same kinks as I am. Said they'd make you uncomfortable or whatever."

"Oh," Patrick frowns, "She didn't talk to me, what are you into?"

Bob lowers his eyes, working on his computer again and shrugging with a bright red tint to his cheeks. It's obviously something embarrassing if he can't talk to the fucking whore of Warped Tour about it. Patrick purses his lips and walks forward a little farther so when he leans in this time, his face is right in front of Bob's. The ginger bites his lip but Patrick quickly takes it between his own teeth, letting go not long after.

"You can tell me, pretty boy..." Patrick mumbles, "You know I won't judge."

Bob avoids his gaze again, staring at the wall at this point. Patrick sighs, pulling away in defeat. He's about to outright walk off the bus when Bob grips his hand with a small, "Wait."

Patrick turns, watching the other man's eyes flicker to Gerard (who's fast asleep), then back to Patrick, "Can you... look up CNC and I completely understand if you don't want to because it totally weird and wrong and shit, Dude."

Patrick blinks and with a small nod and a smile, he turns away again, heading out the door of the bus and continuing onto his own. CNC. That doesn't sound too bad. It's just an acronym, he's sure it's fine. It's probably just something short for cock and ball torture or something. He can handle that.

He doesn't realize he's in the bus until he hears the clear moans of Andy and Joe and the bunk in the back of their bus squeaking lightly. Patrick sighs, but doesn't bother leaving. He's used to it. Used to all the moans and shit. He's bored.

He flops down on his bunk, grabbing his phone from his pocket and squinting at the brightness of his phone through the dark bus.

He goes to Google and types in those three letters Bob had said. /CNC/

He gets a couple links to CNN, a map to a  places he doesn't care about, a cookbook, and a router guide. So he adds BDSM to the end of it. The first link is to a BDSM wiki and he goes straight there, reading the first article.

"CNC, or Consensual Non-Consent, is an advanced form of relationship Negotiations in Power exchange dynamics that indicate that the S-type has voluntarily given up the right to make decisions in one or more areas of their life to the D-type, either permanently or temporarily. In cases where this is in all areas the appropriate term is TPE and this term is most often used in when describing M/s relationships."

That sounds a little intimidating and Patrick doubts that's what Bob wants because he's seen plenty of relationships like that, so he heads to the the next link. Overall, it says the same thing and he's pretty confused.

But that's when he sees the last paragraph and his heart fucking stops.

"In limited parts of the online BDSM community, "consensual non-consent" is instead used to refer to rape play that includes the use of safe words. This use of the term is commonly frowned upon, especially among total power exchange lifestyle participants. Experienced practitioners of BDSM generally discourage others from using "consensual non-consent" to indicate rape play. This attitude arises from the belief that it is a miscommunication potentially leading to serious and irreparable psychological harm."

Oh.

Patrick purses his lips and after a long moment, goes to his texts and opens his messages with Elisa.

Patrick: hey baby

There's a long moment where he waits, Joe lets out a long cry and everything goes quiet beside their gentle pants.

Elisa: hey, isn't it 10 over there...?

Patrick: yeah, joe and Andy are keeping me up there. I wanted to talk to you about Bob if that would be okay.

It takes another couple minutes, then:

Elisa: Honey, I don't want you to get hurt.

Patrick: I won't, I promise. I know when to use my safeword. It's going to be okay, okay? And if anything does happen, you know Andy's here for me.

Elisa: I...

Elisa: okay, but you have to talk to Andy before and after and tell bob I will kill him if he gives you more than you can handle, ok?

Patrick: okay, I love you so much, miss you :(

Elisa: I miss you, too. Go to sleep, okay? I love you too <3

Patrick: Okay <3

"Patrick, did you hear all that?"

Patrick jolts when he hears Andy behind him but after a moment, he relaxes again and nods softly, looking back into Andy's gray eyes. He's in his boxers and that about it, his long, wavy hair sheen with a coat of sweat and his face sort of red. The man chuckles in reply and looks back into the other room where Joe's slowly recovering.

"Hey, you wanna come back with us for a couple more rounds?" Andy invites, "like what we talked about? I can bring all the supplies back or forward or whatever. Pete's staying the night on Panic's bus..."

Patrick bites his lip and after a long pause, he replies, "Yeah... yeah, I'd like that..."

Andy grins and calls back to Joe, "Hey, Dude. Come up here, Trick's here."

"Oh my god are we really doing this?" Joe groans back, "Dude I'm like 20 something, I'm too old for this."

Andy sighs in frustration, marching forward and yanking Joe up by his arm in which the other groans, but follows, running his fingers through his hair as he finally reaches his feet and sighs.

"Just a couple more rounds, okay?" Andy asks, "You can do whatever you want to him, I'll be here."

Joe sighs but after a long moment, he gives a legato nod and rubs his eyes, padding to the bunks and digging under Andy's bunk. Patrick notices that he's completely naked and licks his lips as he takes in his body, he slight muscle to his stiff frame and while his ass maybe kinda flat, he honest god doesn't mind he makes up for it everywhere else. And Patrick's eyes especially land on his tattoos which, yeah, he's been fucked by Frank and he had tattoos but this is much more noticeable. It's a full on sleeve and Patrick can't help but wonder how it would look, how it would feel contrasted around his neck.

Joe turns back to Patrick with a very judging, pissy look and after stroking himself a couple times, he nods, "Strip. Lay on your back. You've done waxplay before, right?"

"Yes," Patrick replies, quickly tugging off his shirt, "A couple times."

"Call me Daddy," Joe mumbles numbly as he grabs a baby blue stick and after a couple more looks at Patrick, grabs a light pink and a bright white as well. The blond can't help but think that, damn, Joe knows how to pick good colors.

"Yes, Daddy," Patrick replies obediently as he pulls off his jeans and after a quick glance to Joe, his boxers as well. He lays back in bed and shuts his eyes, feeling those thick hands on him not long after. They press down on his stomach, then continue down and take his semi hard cock in the palm, molding it like clay harder and wetter.

Joe presses his head down, meeting their lips and the contrast of soft skin against Joe's stubble sends Patrick's hips bucking up and a whimper to escape his throat, along with a soft call of, "Daddy..." not long after.

Joe looks back through his box once he's set the candlesticks beside Patrick, grabbing a lighter, a blindfold, and a gag. Patrick whimpers at the sight but Joe only presses two fingers into his mouth to muffle his sounds.

"Look at you," Joe mumbles, "You're such a pretty little slut, all spread out for me, huh?"

Patrick nods breathlessly, parting his lips so Joe can get the bone gag in his mouth followed not long after by the blindfold, "Hold onto the headboard, if you need to stop, rap on the wall, got it?"

Patrick gives a noise of approval and pretty soon Joe's lighting the first candle and handing it over to Andy to hold until it's begun dropping. While he waits, he heads to the freezer, pulling out the container of ice cubes and setting them on the bed beside Patrick so he feels the cold contrasting against his thigh. The blond inhales sharply, squeezes the bar harder, and whines again.

Joe grabs he candle and after at least another minute, Patrick feels the first drip of the wax on his chest, falling right on his nipple. He whimpers, arches his back, but it's no use. By then, Joe's straddling him and letting the creamy white wax fall onto the vocalist's skin.

Patrick lets out a moan of what somewhat resembles "Daddy" but Joe only slaps him and tells him to shut the fuck up (which totally doesn't go straight to Patrick's dick). He's never seen this side of Joe before, neither has Andy, really, but he'd be lying if he didn't say it's one of the hottest things he's ever witnessed. How Joe treats him like complete and absolute trash, like a toy and nothing more. It's so much different from Gerard but it's fucking hot.

He's not entirely sure how long it's been since he started this candle but by the time he's stopped, Patrick's entire chest and torso are burning in the best kind of way. He can feel it beginning to dry and flake off and it hurts but it feels amazing.

Joe's hand brushes his rock hard length, almost fucking soaked in precum and Patrick blushes at how pathetic that kind of is but he really can't help himself. He fucking loves it.

Joe chuckles slightly as he strokes his own growing cock, then grabs the baby blue candle and lights it, waiting for the wax to begin dropping. He runs his fingers over the dry wax across Patrick's chest, scratching at it and watching the masochist lean into the touch, whining.

Neither of them say a word as the first couple drops fall on Patrick's lower waist and that's when the feeling of ice follows right after. Patrick bucks up, cries out because the contrast between pain and relief and painful relief completely clash and it's like hearing two notes, one sharper than the other. The difference? This is a good feeling, this sends his muscles clenching and his breaths drawing faster. It's so perfect. So amazing.

"You want more, Baby Boy?" Joe teases, keeping the candle over where the wax has already dried for the most part.

"'Es, 'Addy! 'Ease, 'ease, '/ease/!" Patrick begs through his gag. Joe quickly tugs it off from around his head (along with the blindfold) and continues, going back up his chest towards his neck where the baby blue coloring falls on the skin and cools not long after with the ice.

"Oh my fuck, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," Patrick gasps, "Please, more, more."

Joe darts forward, gripping a hand around Patrick's neck—the hand connected to the tattooed arm—and growls right in his ear, "You do /not/ give me orders you fucking slut. Apologize. Now."

He lets up slightly and Patrick eyes his tattoos as he replies, breathless.

"I-I'm sorry, Daddy..."

"Good," Joe replies coldly, dripping the wax back down his stomach before blowing it out and setting it on the paper towel on the bedside table with the white, "You like my tattoos Baby Boy? Is that what you're looking at."

"Yes, Daddy..." Patrick chokes out, still examining the skeleton on Joe's upper arm. The guitarist chuckles, dark, and lights the last candle.

"Might have you do something about that later, huh, Baby Slut?"

Patrick nods breathlessly, unable to do much more because the wax is already dripping and he can barely think straight. Joe grabs another couple ice cubes, pressing one into Patrick's mouth and using the other for the last of the blond's unmarked skin. Patrick's pretty worn out by now, just sucking on the ice cube and staring at Joe's tattoos with half lidded eyes. The dom seems to notice Patrick spacing out, sees his eyes closing and his lip trapped between his teeth.

"You still with me, Baby Boy?" Joe asks, tracing the light pink wax down his thighs and back up before blowing it out and drying off the wet skin.

"Mhmm..."

"You heading into subspace?"

"Mhmm..."

Joe sighs and after a moment of thought, slaps Patrick, hard. Patrick jolts out of it, eyes wide open and focused on Joe.

"No. Not now, okay?" He asks. Patrick nods obediently and Joe smiles right back, warm and reassuring.

"I'm gonna peel the wax off and then we can go to bed, alright?" Joe asks.

"But what about you? You haven't cum, Daddy... neither have I..."

Joe bites his lip and after another silence, he nods, "Okay. I'll peel it off and fuck you. Then bed. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy, thank you."

"Anytime, Baby Boy," Joe mouths against Patrick's neck. The sub groans when he feels Joe's nails digging under the wax, scratching it off. Patrick lets out a half yelp-half sob at the feeling because it's verging on the pain overweighting the pleasure but not quite. It's just there. Just on the edge of too much and Patrick loves it.

"D-Daddy..." He chokes, "Fuck."

Joe kisses across his neck and face, stubble brushing against his lips and the sensitive flesh just under his ear. He continues to scratch, lingering at his nipples, then continuing down to his thighs and back up to his stomach. By the time all the wax is peeled off, Patrick's skin is bright red and on fire. Joe gives him some mercy, stroking the last ice cube across his chest and stomach and thighs and kissing across the sensitive skin until the cube's all melted.

"You okay?" Joe asks gently, pulling away from Patrick and examining his face.

"I'm fucking soaked and ready to be fucked," Patrick replies sarcastically. Joe slaps him and he immediately shuts up.

"You're a fucking whore, Trick," he mumbles. "Andy, condom?"

Patrick almost forgot Andy was even there and as he turns his head, he realizes that he's been teasing himself this whole time and his cock is soaked just like Joe and Patrick's. The dom hands over the aluminum and Joe wastes no time in opening it, ripping it with his teeth and throwing the wrapping to the side before pressing it down his cock. Patrick shuts his eyes, shifting up on the bed as Joe jerks him a few times and lines up because he's still pretty loose from earlier.

He begins pressing in, gasping in pleasure at the feeling and throwing his head back. Patrick knows he isn't supposed to but he pulls his fingers from the headboard and tugs Joe down by his hair, tangling his fingers in the curls and kissing him hard, licking across his stubble not long after.

Neither of them even notice when Joe's bottomed out because the dom has wasted no time in fucking Patrick hard and fast and rough. The thrusts of his hips slap the sub's skin and squeak the bed as Joe draws blood from Patrick's bottom lip. It's fast, it's rough, and Patrick can barely focus on anything. Joe has stamina and that's a serious turn on when he can manage such a ridiculous pace for a full minute, maybe more.

Patrick knows he can't last long, not with Joe jerking and squeezing and tugging him. Drawing out moans and playing his cock just right to make the pitches he wants escape Patrick's lips. It's like the way he's learned his guitar, he has /experience/ even with him being a bottom for the past year or so. He knows what he's doing. Knows how to rub his thumb into Patrick's slit just right to send his hips bucking, he knows how to slide his thumb under his hood to make him sob and Patrick doesn't think he can get over the way he parts his fingers and rubs him like that.

All the while he's slowing down but it hasn't changed a damn thing. Joe's already found that hard bump, already begun to drill into it as accurately as he can but he misses. He's dizzy, even with Patrick stretched, he's still tight. Patrick knows he's thicker and shorter than Gerard. Maybe 5 or 6 inches but it sure as hell isn't disappointing.

"Can I cum?" Patrick chokes out, "Please."

"Look at Andy you fucking whore and hold it unless you want me to ring that cock," Joe growls. Patrick shudders but nods, turning his head and jolting when he sees Andy. He's running his fingers through his hair and pumping his cock and soon as their eyes meet, his cock becomes impossibly more soaked in precum and he bucks up against Joe's hand.

"Talk to him, tell him what a dirty whore you are." Joe smirks like it's a game and wow. Yeah. Patrick's gonna cum if he keeps talking like that.

"I'm a dirty whore," Patrick chokes, "I'm a cockslut, a fucktoy, oh fuck, Daddy!"

Joe squeezes the base of his cock, hard and holds back his orgasm, "More."

"I'm a little filthy slut," Patrick sobs, "I'm a cumdump, a fucking whore! I'll do anything just let me cum!"

"Cum," Andy grunts, "Cum for Joe."

Patrick does.

He cums hard, he feels like he's never cum so hard in his life and it won't stop. Five spurts turns to fifteen and its fucking insane. It's the messiest orgasm of his life. It's the best orgasm of his life and he screams.

Everything goes black.

***

When Patrick stirs, he feels colder than usual and Joe and Andy's soft voices echo from the bunk next to him. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to come to his senses and after a moment passes, he finally turns to see them. Joe's cuddling into Andy's side and Andy's stroking his hair gently, a content warm smile on his lips and his eyes shut.

Patrick feels kind of warm inside at that sight. Joe asleep and gripping Andy like if he lets go, he'll lose it all and Andy completely content with the world. He can't help but feel a pang of sadness for missing Elisa and frowns slightly.

That's when Andy turns and opens his eyes looking right at Patrick. He presses his hand to his chin then waves out. /Thank you/

Patrick smiles and nods.

/You're welcome./

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