April 18, 1969

"A-are you sure about this?" Pete asks, eyes wide as Patrick stands behind him and pats his back.

"Yeah, he'll say yes, I'm sure of it," Patrick replies, "Just go up to him and ask him."

Pete swallows, eying Gabe with wide, frightened eyes, "O-Okay..." He heads on hands tight in his pockets like they always are when he's nervous. His legs are shaky as he confronts the boy with wide eyes and a shaky tone, "H-hey..."

Gabe looks up, pulling the cigarette from his lips and blowing the smoke up into the air, "Hey, Pete. What's up?"

"I-I... uh..." Pete swallows hard, looking back at Patrick for a little more support. The blond only gives him a thumb's up and a large grin, "I just... I heard from Patrick that you could... uh... you could maybe bring me into one of the back rooms for a little bit? I-I have a couple dollars..."

Gabe takes another long, lazy drag and releases the breath just moments later, "Alright, I can show you a good time, sit down for a moment. Do you have any condoms on you? Lube?"

"N-No, not right now, I can buy some, though," Pete replies. Gabe nods, pressing the cigarette into the ashtray beside him.

"No need, follow me." Gabe sits up and moves past Patrick to the end of the bar. They continue down a hallway and onto the end where Gabe opens the last door to the right. Pete heads in, looking across a cushioned king bed with a bedside table and a box underneath, "Go ahead, get yourself comfortable. Are you a top or a bottom?"

Pete takes a seat on the bed, peeling off his shoes and socks as Gabe grabs a condom and a bottle of lube from the drawer, "I-I can go either way, but I prefer being a bottom. Why did you need to ask me for prep stuff?"

"I just generally don't like using their stuff," Gabe replies, taking off his own shoes and socks and locking the door, "Too easy to tear."

Pete nods but before he can pull off anything else, Gabe is unbuttoning his overcoat, setting it on his shoes as their lips connect, slow and steady, much slower than the pounding of Pete's heart, "Relax, you're okay. Take a breath."

Their lips attach and Pete finds himself slowly calming down as Gabe presses him back into the bed, slowly grinding their hips together and making Pete whimper slightly at the feeling, "G-Gabe, oh."

Gabe bites hard on his lip, drawing blood and pulling off Pete's shirt to reveal a toned chest and a lanky, slightly muscled frame. Pete is panting, his tongue passing through Gabe's lips and sending a tsunami of Gabe onto him. Pete groans when Gabe pins his wrists down and sweat begins to accumulate.

"Have you ever done this before?" The jewish boy asks.

"No," Pete admits, swallowing and watching Gabe peel off his shirt, "B-But I've done a few things that aren't has... y'know... Drastic."

Gabe dives back onto Pete's lips, rubbing against where a growing bulge is rising in his jeans and sending the shorter boy bucking up slightly. They moan together, and that's when Gabe finally peels off the jeans holding Pete's cock tight against his crotch. Pete exhales like it burns, it does, and then Gabe pulls down and all thoughts of pain absolutely leave his mind as Gabe presses his tongue in one long stroke from the base of Pete's shaft to the very tip, collecting the salty, clear droplets of precum along the way.

"Jesus, fuck shit," Pete just barely manages to grunt.

"A lot of bad words coming from that mouth you have there," Gabe teases, pulling back and slipping Pete's clothing off the rest of the way onto the cool floor, "Naughty boy."

"I'm not kinky," Pete mumbles, looking away as Gabe undoes his belt.

"Neither am I," Gabe grins, "I'm just telling the truth."

The darker rolls his eyes and looks back down to see Gabe shoving his jeans down his legs and soon after jerking his cock in long, smooth strokes. Pete's mouth begins to water, his eyes widening at the sight. He's never sucked cock before. And he certainly doesn't want it to end like that now, but damn does he want to suck Gabe's. It's long and thick, maybe not as large as Travie might be but still fairly big. His tip is small, almost comical against the thickness of his cock. Pete bites his lip, looking up at Gabe who only looks right back at him, hand still working smooth.

"How do you want to do this? Riding? Hands and knees...? Uh... Missionary?"

"I..." Pete takes a breath, looking back at the bed for a moment before his eyes meet Gabe's once again, "I think... maybe hands and knees? Would that be easiest to start off?"

"Sure," Gabe says, grabbing lube while Pete gets into position, "I gotta prep you first. It'll feel weird and might hurt a little but it'll make everything else much less painful."

Pete nods, arching his back and pressing his face into the bed, focusing on his breathing and shutting his eyes as Gabe comes up behind him, pressing a gentle hand to his hip, "Easy now, don't clench."

"What do you mean?" Pete asks.

"Don't... I mean don't hold it in if you know what I mean..." Gabe replies with a bit of an awkward tone to his voice. When Pete still doesn't quite understand, he bites his lip and says, "Push."

Pete gets it then, blushing slightly as he does as asked and soon enough, he feels a finger circling his rim and eventually pressing in. Pete feels himself beginning to clench but when Gabe squeezes his hip, he immediately relaxes slightly, feeling Gabe continue down to the second, then the third knuckle. Pete exhales, long and deep, feeling Gabe kiss around his ass, pulling his finger out before pressing it back in. It feels weird, not good. It's sort of unpleasant just with the general thought that Gabe has his finger up that place. Sure, he's gotten physicals before but, Jesus, this just seems like too much.

"Fuck," Gabe grunts behind him, pulling out and adding in a second finger, slicked in the sticky, water-based substance, "You're pretty."

Pete doesn't reply, only whines against the sheets as Gabe slowly eases a second finger in. The stretch burns a little but not too bad and Pete just shuts his eyes and bites into the covers, groaning at the feeling. Gabe's fingers only scissor and spread him open, eventually raking up and down his walls. Before Pete knows it, he's crying out, slamming back in surprise, "G-Gabe!"

"That feels good, huh?" Gabe asks with a grin as he continues to rake against Pete's prostate and send him squirming against the bed.

"Fuck, yes, shit, fuck me," Pete pants, "Fuck me please."

Gabe pulls his fingers out, but before he does anything else, he adds a third, "I gotta finish."

"Fuck the prep," Pete grunts, "Just get your cock up my ass."

"Impatient slut," Gabe chuckles, wasting no time in flipping Pete over on his back and preparing his cock, risen hard and leaking against his lower stomach. Pete watches as he tears open the condom with his teeth and presses it down over his cock in quick, jerked fashions. The taller pulls one of Pete's legs to rest on his shoulder and the other around his waist, then sets the tip of his cock against Pete's opening,

"Are you sure about this?" Gabe asks one last time, fingers gentle around his cock.

"Yes," Pete replies without hesitation, "Please."

Gabe begins pressing in, slow and gentle despite every other part of his body telling himself to slam in. Pete whines, forcing himself not to clench and just relax taking Gabe in. Gabe bites down on Pete's lips, kissing him again and waving his fingers around Pete's wrists, pressing them down into the soft sheets of the bed.

"You're much quieter than Patrick," Gabe says out of nowhere which, honestly, isn't the hottest thing Pete's heard this evening. Although, the more he thinks about it, the more appealing that sounds. Despite his reluctance, he finds himself opening up to that idea. Of Patrick.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," Gabe whispers, "He's not a bottom but damn can he moan."

Pete bites his lip, shutting his eyes as Gabe bottoms out and makes sure Pete can feel his hips rolling nice and deep inside him, "He likes to fuck me hard and fast, he likes to make sure I know I'm nothing but a little whore. He fucks me face first into the bed, and he bites down on my shoulder. He likes to growl a lot. Just own me. He loves twinks like you and me. Loves to wreck them, show them their place."

Pete can't help but admit that this is kind of a big turn on. Maybe it's just the growing fondness he's had for Patrick over the last few weeks. Maybe it's just the fact he hasn't gotten off in ages or the way Gabe whispers it in his ear, his breath moist on his skin. Maybe it's just the fact that no matter how hard Pete may try, he can't get the image of Patrick fucking him hard and rough out of his head and it's making his cock ache in a way it never has before. Either way, Pete finds himself fucking back onto Gabe's cock, biting his lip and shutting his eyes.

"And sometimes, when he's feeling especially like an asshole, he'll fuck me until I'm begging and screaming for him. Crying like a little bitch. And he'll just leave me there. Sometimes he'll handcuff me to the bed and tell me to shut the fuck up. Sometimes he'll put a cockring on me like he does all his bitches and he'll tell me to fuck myself on his cock until he's satisfied. Do you think he'd do that to you?"

Gabe's thrusting now, slow but ragged. He jerks as he goes, he isn't smooth in the least. He pulls out nice and slow then slams back into Pete before repeating it all over again, "Huh?"

"Yes," Pete gasps, "Fuck, yes."

"I've been watching you eye him ever since I met you," Gabe whispers, biting on his earlobe before letting go, "You want him. You want his cock in you and you want him to fuck you hard and fast, all night long until you're nothing but a puddle of pleasure. His little toy."

Pete groans, arching his back and feeling Gabe's fingers digging into his wrists. His thrusts get faster, harder, "Tell me how much you want him to fuck you, Pete. Fucking scream for him."

"P-Patrick," Pete gasps, flipping his head back and forth on the bed and gasping, "Patrick, harder, please..."

Patrick-no-Gabe thrusts harder, fingers pulled away from Pete's wrists and instead wrapping around his throat in a tight, restricting grip. Pete's hips jerk, his cock twitching between their stomachs and spready the stick substance of his precum across their sweaty skin. Pete's hands now twist in the sheets and the bed is squeaking under them, the headboard slamming against the wall and possibly causing a dent. Neither of them care because at this point, Pete can't even think anymore. The air has left his lungs and he's floating, his entire body throbbing along with the pulse of his cock, his heart.

Patrick leans down, their hips grinding and slamming and thrusting and dancing and Pete's entire being becomes numb with pleasure and with three last words by that undistinguished voice, he feels his entire being breaking down.

"Come for me."

A tsunami crashes through his body, his back arching and the entire room a pitch black as he screams out that forbidden name. He feels the moon above him, he hears the waves crashing through him and his prick explodes, twitching and spurting out across his and Patrick's stomachs. His fingers grip onto whatever skin they can find, he gasps for a breath he can't quite capture and when his lips finally inhale and his eyes widen to see nothing but white, he knows it's over. Just vaguely. At the back of his mind.

It all goes black.

When Pete stirs a little while later, he's shaking. He can feel his fingers lax and his lungs are finally getting air but he can feel a pain shooting through his lower back as he rises and squints against the bright light above them. Gabe is on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes and adjusting his wrinkled shirt. He doesn't even realize Pete's awake until the shorter says with a soft, groggy whisper, "Wh-what happened?"

He looks back and chuckles softly, "You're finally awake. You blacked out for a good five minutes, I was considering grabbing Patrick. I've never seen anybody come that hard before."

"I... oh..." Pete swallows. He doesn't realize Gabe had cleaned his mess up until he's slipping on his boxers and his stomach is clean, "I... Fuck..."

He rubs his eyes, and says in a dark, unappreciative tone, "Don't ever mentioned what happened today. To me, to Patrick, to anyone."

"What's the big deal?" Gabe frowns, standing, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Fine," Pete grunts, "I just don't need Patrick knowing about what happened here. I'm not talking about the sex. I'm talking about what you said to me."

Gabe sighs, "Pete, listen. First off, I'd never do that to you. I know better than that. Second off, whatever you're feeling about Patrick, it's totally fine, okay? I mean... I know you've never really known a gay guy before in your life and, yeah he's personally not to my taste romantically, but if you're into that then - "

"Just shut up, Gabe," Pete mumbles, tugging up his jeans and buckling his belt, "Never mention this again."

"Whatever you say, boss."

When Pete comes out of the bedroom, all the way dressed and Gabe already gone, he finds himself with a slight limp in his step but he tries not to focus too hard on it. He just forces himself down the hall and back out to the main lounge past the bar and back to the blond who's leather jacket sits tight across his shoulders. When Pete sits with a large gap between them, Patrick parts his lips. And he asks gentle, innocent, stupid, "So... how did it go?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

Pete looks away.

"Yeah, sure."

***

"So last week, I was down at Stonewall, you know that little gay bar just down by Greenwich? Well, I was down there with Tyler," Brendon grins, looking across the circle of people, "And there was this other drag queen, can't remember her name, somethin' like... Roxy Darling or something. We were hanging out at the bar, I bought her a scotch, she bought me a beer. And we were getting pretty close, y'know? I was sure I was gonna sleep with this bitch...

Pete tunes out the conversation, looking down at the palms of his hands and trying his best not to look at Patrick. He hasn't been the same over the past few days since Gabe and him slept together. He can't stop thinking about those words that Gabe had growled, how they had affected him so badly. How he had never come so hard in his life... Every time he looks at Patrick, now, he can only think about that. About Gabe, about being spread out, his prick leaking and his cheeks flushed red as he pants and screams for relief.

Every time he shuts his eyes, he hears it.

"I've been watching you eye him ever since I met you. You want him. You want his cock in you and you want him to fuck you hard and fast, all night long."

"He loves twinks like you and me. Loves to wreck them, show them their place."

"Sometimes he'll handcuff me to the bed and tell me to shut the fuck up. Sometimes he'll put a cockring on me like he does all his bitches and he'll tell me to fuck myself on his cock until he's satisfied. Do you think he'd do that to you?"

"Pete!"

Pete gasps, looking with wide eyes at Patrick who's looking at him, worried and and gentle. Almost too gentle, "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Pete replies casually as if he wasn't just staring off into nothing.

Patrick raises an eyebrow of disbelief, "Yeah. Sure. You wanna go outside? Get a smoke? Go for a drink? I'll pay."

"I'm fine," Pete grunts, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest self-consciously like some rebellious teen who doesn't give two shits about their parent.

"Mhmm..." Patrick rolls his eyes and stands, holding out a hand for Pete, "Come on. We're going. We need to talk."

"I'm fine, Trick, honest," Pete mumbles but when Patrick doesn't show any signs of letting up, he sighs and rises to his feet, pressing his hands into his pockets, "What?"

Patrick leads him away from Lindsey, Hayley, Bren, G, and Dallon and instead up to the bar where only Ryan and Will sit, one on the other's lap. "I'm just worried about you is all. You haven't been the same since you slept with Gabe. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Pete laughs emptily, "Honest."

"You haven't talked to me in three days, Pete. And we live together," Patrick mumbles.

Pete looks away but after a moment, he sighs and looks back at Patrick with a dead look, "I'm sorry. I've just been... I've been processing my feelings about some things. But if anything is bothering me that you can help with, I promise I'll talk to you, okay?"

Patrick looks satisfied with that, and nods with a slight smile, "Alright."

He slings an arm around Pete's shoulder and calls to the bartender, Andy. He owns the place and he and Pete have talked once or twice but that's kind of it.

"We'll get a couple scotches here."

"Coming right up!"