---Patrick---

Knives are lodged in my throat right now and it hurts and I'm afraid. But I need to get away.

"Brendon? You up?" I ask, my head pounding. It feels like someone is holding a knife to my brain and every time it throbs, the blade is plunged deeper and deeper in the surface until I know it'll get unbearable and I'll have to get some sort of relief. Not to mention, my frustration is easily showing. I really don't care, I need to get away from all my problems. I need an escape again. Any kind, even if it'll kill me.

"Yeah, what's up?" The brunette replies, the background is loud, and I know exactly where he is. Thinking fast, I realize just how perfect it was for me to call him. If the only way to get rid of the stress, the building pressure is sex and pain, maybe what he offers could give me that same feeling. The haze of pleasure. Maybe I could even fuck one or two of the people there. I know he hangs out with quite a few popular, hot guys. I might be able to somehow get one of them. Maybe.

"This is gonna sound kind of weird coming from me, but I need drugs. I don't care what kind, I don't care. Gerard and I got into a fight, and I need... something, please..." I murmur as I continue to walk down this long familiar block.

I hear Brendon chuckle on the other end, "Where are you? I can come and pick you up soon."

I look up at the sign, "On the corner of Fourth and Fremont."

"I'll be there in a few."

***

It's a small place, but my senses are overwhelmed with the smell of cigarettes, beer, and drugs immediately. I have to stumble back out the door to stop a trigger because it's so strong.

It reminds me of the smell of my old house, the way Dad always had a bottle of beer open and the way the smell of alcohol always invaded my senses when he got too close. I hated smelling it on his breath when he was drunk. I hated the way he always got so close it felt like he was gonna kiss me.

Then there's the smell of cigarette smoke. Dad smoked a bit too, not near as much as he drank, but I'm sure it still did a fair amount of damage to his health. I think he smoked about a quarter of a pack a day, maybe more. Anything to get rid of the memory of Mom. The memory of the hospital. The memory of coming to the hospital only to find me. Me, who killed Mom. Me, who was to blame. Me, who he took it out on. Me.

The smell of drugs wasn't as prevalent in the house, but I know sometimes he'd get ahold of some weed. I hated that smell but somehow it always made me feel better because he didn't usually hit me when he smoked it, he only laid contently on the couch or stayed downstairs with Kevin. Dad was kind enough to share with Kevin, and those were times when Megan and I would talk for hours and hours on end, not giving a care in the world. Sometimes, they'd even let us go out and get lunch or dinner or just go to the park if Dad and Kevin made enough money. Those were the times when neither my sister nor I cried because we wanted to embrace the moment while we could. We'd go downtown or hang out around the cemetery to say hi to Mom. Little did I know, Gerard's father's grave was just two headstones down.

I miss both of them. Megan and Mom.

"You alright there?" Brendon asks.

I shut my eyes, trying to shake the thought of my old life. I've come to forget not remember... I need to forget, or I swear I'll go insane with the desperation to forget. I need to let my old life stay in the past, this is my new life: with Brendon and Joe and Ryan and Pete and Frank. My new life is with Gerard, trying to overcome this bump in the path to-I hope-health.

"Yeah, just, reminds me of my old life I guess," I whisper. He looks confused, but he immediately understands, "Are you sure you want to do this? I could take you home and you could stay at my house for a while if you want instead."

I look up at him and shake my head, "No, it's fine. It'll just take a little bit of getting used to."

He watches me hesitantly, but I force him to stop when I just head inside and let my senses become overwhelmed again.

I can hear glasses clinking, holding gin and vodka and beer and whiskey and scotch and whatever else they serve here. A few people are laughing to each other at jokes I can only hope to hear someday, and a few teens are chatting in a corner somewhere. The thing that really distracts me is the muffled moans that come from behind closed doors, moans of pleasure and I doesn't take long for me to realize this bar has private rooms in the back where people can fuck along to songs about hips and hearts.

Then there's the smell of smoke from cigarettes, it makes me cough slightly, but it doesn't bother me too much, I've grown used to it because of Dad, and I won't let it turn into anything more than that, just a soft bump that prods at my memories. I just have to focus on keeping my mind away from it.

Finally, there's the smell of drugs, but it's well hidden by the alcohol and smoke, and I think I know exactly what's happening.

These drugs are illegal, aren't they?

I keep looking around as I try not to let it bother me. We won't get caught. We can't get caught. Brendon would never let us get caught. It'll be okay.

There are a few black couches around where people are laying and drinking, laughing to each other with loud voices and soft giggles as they flirt tipsily. I notice Hayley there, the red hair girl from my class talking with Taylor and it looks like she really wants to fuck him. It's quite comical, really, because she's drunk off her ass and Taylor looks stone dry. I'm pretty sure they're a couple, though, because Taylor keeps trailing his hand farther and farther up her thigh. It's safe to say, they're going to need a room soon. Really soon.

I continue to look around to see a couple people smoking... pot I think. I'm not sure, I'm still really new to this kind of stuff, but I'm determined to learn. I want to know everything and I want to forget everything at the same time. I came to have a good time, I just hope I don't break down or something. That's all I'm hoping for, a good night where I can enjoy myself, and I don't have to worry about Gerard or try to get a release through self-harm or constant blowjobs. I just want to try to relax for a bit. I'd honestly do anything for it at this point as long as I can get a break from life.

My green eyes search the room even more, and I find what I'm looking for when they stop at a hall with the private rooms and my eyes light up as I realize I could have sex with someone besides Gerard for once. Nice.

My gaze shifts to the bar, there are a few seats and a counter, and... the bartender is what surprises me because I hadn't expected Brendon to hire someone like him. Someone who used to bully me. Just another unpopular kid, but I guess Brendon does give mercy to everyone. Just like the rumors said, "Spencer?"

He looks up and smiles, "Hey, Patrick,"

He's not even 18, and he's running a bar? What's going on here? I'm so confused.

"Patrick, I need to talk to you," Brendon says, softly into my ear, careful not to let anyone else hear. He purses his lips and takes me aside, lowering his voice as he speaks quickly in my ear. Words I never thought would come from him, "This place technically isn't even a bar, we're not supposed to be here, we were never meant to set up here but it was abandoned, and we came and fixed it up, anyways. We have a dealer, and my parents are, pretty wealthy as you might know. I'm able to get enough money from them to pay the dealer and, this is all extremely illegal. This is your last chance to walk away and forget you saw anything."

I let out a shaky breath. Brendon did... this? How? How did he find all that time and motivation? More importantly, do I really want to do this? And possibly get Donna to end up in jail? Me with her? But the high... I still need a stress relief, and if Brendon's been running it this long, it couldn't get any worse, right?

"I'm okay, I want to..." I reply.

He smiles and nods, "I'll be back, go ahead and talk to Spencer for a bit."

I nod and walk over to the bar, taking a seat, and as I look around, I realize that everyone here couldn't be much older than 25. With that in mind, I begin to relax a bit.

"You want anything?" Spencer asks politely. I feel my cheeks go red out of embarrassment, but I only reply with, "I uh... didn't bring money..."

He laughs slightly and shakes his head, getting me a glass of what I assume is beer for me anyways, "It's on the house."

I blush softly as he sets the shot glass in front of me, smiling. When he sees me examining it like it's some kind of poison he only says, "It's the best beer we have right now, just try it."

I bite my lip looking up at him but his face only boosts my confidence, and I take it down in one gulp.

It tastes like fucking NyQuil. I don't choke because I'd rather not be insulted, but I definitely grimace, "Holy shit,"

Spencer and the rest of the people at the bar burst out laughing, and Spencer continues on, "That's the taste of alcohol. You'll have to get used to it sooner or later if you plan on staying."

I scrunch my nose, handing back the glass, "So how the hell did you end up here, anyway? And is there a reason you aren't being rude?"

He shrugs, "Brendon invited Jon and me to come hang out over here during the weekends. My old job was going pretty badly, and about the whole thing with the bullying and Bob, we were kind of forced into that so, sorry about that. I really didn't want to hurt you."

I look down, nodding but at the mention of Bob, I begin to feel my mood drop. The things he did yesterday and, I just hate it. I don't want to talk about it. Or even think about it. If Gerard hadn't come in time, I could have been raped, possibly dead.

"'Trick can you come back here?" Brendon calls, and I turn to see him poking out of the corner that leads to the private rooms.

I turn to Spencer to say goodbye before I eagerly walk over to the brunette, "Hey,"

"I got you a few to try. You're uh..." He bites his lip, "I don't know how far you want to take this as in... cheating on Gerard. I guess I'm trying to ask if you came to sleep with other guys."

My breathing hitches as I look up at him, "I'd be willing to sleep with Pete at this point to be honest, please."

He chuckles slightly, "Then I've got something for you."

I follow him into a private room to be met with Joe, Ryan, and a handful of drugs. I wave to my two other friends nervously as my eyes dart over the variety of packages spread across the floor. It's a little weird to think about: I used to always refuse drugs from Brendon. No matter how much he offered, I would refuse, and now, three years later, I'm begging him for some. And here they finally are.

There's a roll full of something. I'm not sure what, but it has a dark greenish tint under the white paper, and I assume it to be pot from the way it's formed to make it easy to light the end. Beside that is a ziplock of different colored tablets with the various designs on each tablet, they look like oversized smarties with symbols of hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds across the surfaces. I have no idea what those are. Another two zip locks contain some sort of white powder that looks like it has the consistency of flour, one is labeled Pepsi, the other is labeled Coca-Cola. Then, there's a few lighters, a few needles, a dollar bill, a pack of cigarettes, and a bottle of gin. It's a little intimidating, to say the least.

Brendon shuts the door behind us, making sure it's locked cautiously. I can see the paranoia in his eyes as he turns to us, "Patrick, you gotta promise you're keeping this a secret. I'm not going to jail anytime soon."

I raise my hands in surrender, "I promise, I would never," But I know I can't keep it. I couldn't keep the last one, so why would I be able to keep this one?

His lips twitch into a smile as he falls to his knees and begins sorting through the bags, "I probably shouldn't do this but I trust you so... you get to be special enough to learn exactly what drugs we have."

He takes the roll wrapped in white paper, holding it up, "How much do you know about drugs?"

I blush softly and reply, "I don't know shit, honestly."

Joe tries not to laugh, but he fails horribly, "We're gonna get you so wasted..."

I bite my lip slightly nervous, but I let it pass. I need this.

"Okay," Brendon laughs slightly, probably thinking it's ridiculous that I don't know anything about drugs, "This is pot, or marijuana or whatever you wanna call it. You light the end and smoke it, right? It's basically a gateway drug to everything else, and it makes you pretty relaxed. It's the most popular, in our opinions at least."

He holds up the bag of pills that look like smarties, "Ecstasy, it'll make you really, really horny. My personal favorite." I roll my eyes at that, but I kind of want to try it now.

He holds up the bag labeled Pepsi, "Heroin, it's a painkiller, and I don't use it much since it's really addictive and I fucking hate needles. It makes you a bit more relaxed. It's a bit dangerous and probably not good to start on..."

He sets that down and shows me the one that says Coca-Cola, "Cocaine, this shit will make you giggle happy as fuck or pissed, depending on how your body works. It's snorted, and I really would not take it since it's kind of a hard drug."

He puts that down and gestures to everything else, "Gin and cigarettes but you already know about that and... that's really it."

I lick my lips nervously then let my eyes dart up to Brendon's, "What should I try...?"

He smirks, "Whatever you want,"

I bite my lip and shakily point to the ecstasy, "I guess."

He opens the bag and hands me a tablet, "Just take it like a pill."

I examine it for a moment, it's white and has a small heart on the front. I take the flavorless tablet in my mouth, and he soon after gives over the bottle of gin to wash it down, "You okay with staying here with Joe for a while?"

I quickly realize what he means, and I'm not exactly sure how to feel about this except nervousness and excitement, "Okay."

Ryan hops off of the bed and follows Brendon out the door with the other bags but before it shuts Brendon turns and says, "If you need anything, check the bedside drawer."

The door closes with that, a click showing that the latch is in place, but I'm too nervous to even look at the other boy, so I just swallow and go to lock it, wondering when the drug will take effect. As if Joe can read my mind he says, "It'll take like twenty minutes, and after that, it's just," He smiles, "I don't even know how to describe it."

"Is it good?" I ask.

"It's amazing." He replies then takes my hand and pulls me onto the bed.

I frown softly, "You were planning on fucking me if I took that drug or not, weren't you?"

He shrugs, "Maybe, maybe not."

I roll my eyes and turn us over so I'm on top and I can feel my anxiety slowly melt away, "If we are, I'm topping because of my PTSD."

He bites his lip, "Shit, I forgot about that... Uh... Do you need to take anything for that? Or..."

"I have to take meds, but that's only after a flashback. I'll be okay for a while without it... I... I don't know I've just been really stressed lately and Gerard and I got into a fight, so I came here..." I reply.

He nods and as if it doesn't matter to him, changes the subject to what's happening now, "So are you gonna kiss me?"

"Wasn't planning on it," I tease with a smirk.

He lets out a frustrated huff of air and forces my lips on his. As his lips move against mine, I can't help but let out a gasp. His hands trailing down my back and squeezing my ass, his fingers digging right at my entrance through my jeans.

"Joe," I moan then immediately trap my lip between my teeth.

He kisses down my neck, sucking and nibbling when he can and goddamn I can already feel my erection beginning to press against my underwear.

"C'mon Babe," he whispers, pressing my hips down on his, I understand what he's getting at and begin grinding down on his. He moans out, and holy fuck is it hot. He's loud. More piercing than Gerard and with being a top for the first time, it's almost like an entirely new experience.

He flips us over and begins grinding down, his ass right on my growing bulge, but he stays upright, careful not to make me feel trapped. I only meet his lips by sitting up. He begins unbuttoning my pants, his nimble fingers fast on the restraints, "Give me a safeword and boundaries."

I run through all my limits in my mind quickly as he keeps kissing my neck, "Uh... Apple... and... no taking off my shirt... o-or tugging my hair... a-and I'll probably have to keep my eyes open most of the time, so I don't... y'know..."

He breathlessly nods, pulling off his Green Day vest and throwing it to the floor, "So was Gerard telling the truth when he said you're 10 inches hard?"

I blush, "Do you really have to bring that up now?"

He smirks as he finishes with my pants and pulls down my boxers just enough for my cock to bounce out.

"Holy shit..." he whispers, "Can I..."

I blush and nod softly, giving him permission to immediately begin pumping me.

And then something weird happens because I start to feel everything that he's doing. I actually have to stop him for a moment because it's such an intense feeling. His hands on my skin, his breaths on my stomach, "Holy shit," I whisper, pushing his hand away and squeezing my eyes shut before opening them again and asking, "Is that the drug?"

He laughs slightly, "Dude, your eyes are the size of the moon right now, it's the drug."

All of a sudden I need him. That haze is there, the pleasurable one that makes me forget. I need his fingers on me, and I need him to scream my name, and I need something. Anything to get myself off. Oh my god, I'm fucking horny. I quickly pull his pants down, and beg out a very, very needy, "touch me."

He wraps his mouth around my length, his hands pumping what he can't fit and the way I feel every single stroke as strong as I could feel a punch to my face just overwhelms me. It feels fucking amazing not to mention he keeps looking up at me. His eyes are blown wide in his own lust.

Joe presses his tongue against the underside of my tip, and I can feel it so well. The way he looks into my eyes and licks it so very suggestively makes the loudest moan I think I'll ever create leave my mouth. It's just so... hot.

He pulls down his underwear, freeing his own hard length for me to see.

"Have you ever been ridden?" Joe asks breathlessly. I blush softly, shaking my head.

He smirks, "You're such a fucking bottom."

I swallow dryly, "S-sorry?"

"It's hot," the brunette replies as he reaches for the bedside drawer. I moan softly, spreading my legs the tiniest bit. I don't get how he can do these things to me, but I love it. My legs are weak, and my mind is turning fuzzy, much more blurred than it usually does during sex.

I watch as Joe slides the condom onto me and I blush softly when he bites his lip.

And then he positions himself, and I feel incredibly embarrassing asking it but it just kind of comes out anyways, "Don't you need prepping?"

He shakes his head, "Don't you know a masochist when you see one?"

Oh... oh.

I blush at how naïve I am and look away. Joe smirks, and without even lube, he begins to slide down on me. My breathing hitches and my head is thrown back as pleasure takes control.

"Oh my God, Joe." I hiss out. He feels weird, but the tightness is what really gets me. I don't even know where all these words are coming from, probably my dick but the next thing I know I'm saying the dirtiest things I think I've ever said in my life. Each word released into the intimacy of the atmosphere as finishes bottoming out and he begins bouncing on me, "Joe, fuck, oh my god, that's so good."

He lets out a whimper of pain as he goes but it's a pleasurable whimper, and it's hot. Everything about this is hot and the way I can feel every little thing: the way he feels ten times tighter than he probably is, the way I can feel his fingers digging into my shoulders, the way our moans fill the room, and it all just feels so wrong but so right. My mind is swimming in pleasure, and I just forget everything in the sea, my thoughts turning into a mush of khggskfihsjsskjdhfuuufuusk.

My hands go to his waist as I bounce him easier on me, each thrust is so intense that I think this might have to end embarrassingly fast, especially when he leans forward and bites my lip, hard, his hands tangling in my sweaty hair.

My dirty words continue to pour out of my mouth, sweat rolling down my back as it arches off of the bed and my hands grip the sheets desperately.

"Tug my hair," Joe whispers into my ear, his voice is begging for me, "Please, Baby, you're making me feel so fucking good."

I blush at his words but comply as I run my fingers through his hair and get a good grip before I tug it back. He groans loudly, his eyes rolling back as I pull harder.

"Fuckfuckfuck," he breaths, his bounces getting faster. Then he spills out something that I don't think I'd ever hear from any of my friends. Especially not Joe, "Daddy it feels so good..."

He blushes at it, an embarrassed expression crossing his face as he lowers his head. And for some reason, he still tries to continue. I don't let him, though. With a sharp tug down, I force him to stop sliding on me, my frustration getting the best of me as I growl out a, "I swear to God Trohman if you call me Daddy again I will kill you."

"Daddy~" he smirks.

I roll us over and thrust hard into him, pinning him down and forcing him to stay still, "I," thrust, "Fucking," thrust, "Hate," thrust, "You,"

He tries to move his arms as he yells in pleasure, but I make sure he can't escape, and I don't know where all this is confidence coming from, but I honestly don't care because he seems to be liking it. No, not liking it. Loving it. He's in heaven with each thrust into him, his eyes rolling back in pleasure and his hips moving back against mine.

"I'm so close..." he yells, bucking his hips up.

I tug his hair back and bite down on his neck, causing a strained moan to escape his throat and his now freed hands pull me closer, desperate for me.

"Please, can I come, Daddy?" He whispers, bringing the daddy kink back. And I don't know what happens or where this dominant side is coming from, but I can't help but let out a, "Wait,"

He whimpers in submission, and I find it hot as fuck when he struggles against me, my hands pinning his wrists to the bed. I'm not sure when I decided to be a dom, but when I get home, I'm totally gonna make Gerard be a bottom for me.

"Such a slut for me, Trohman," I growl as a pained, but pleasured expression crosses his face.

"Daddy, please!" He yells.

I pound him harder into the bed, my hips flushed against him as the bed squeaks under us, "Wait.

He struggles against my hands even more, and it's so hot, I know I can't last much longer.

"I can't hold it!" He whines, his hips snapping up as I go at a different angle and I'm pretty sure I hit his prostate.

"Come. Now." I demand.

The command doesn't seem to process at first but after a moment, he lets out a half pained-half pleasured moan, and he explodes across his stomach while I release inside him, going limp almost immediately.

Joe lays panting while a small buzz plays through my body, my mind coming down from the high. My eyes shut contently as I lay with my head on his chest and my fingers tangled in his. As soon as I realize just how bad of a position I'm in, though, I pull out with an awkward laugh and blush, quickly untangling our fingers as I tie off the condom and throw it in the trash, swallowing dryly.

"I... uh... hope I didn't go too hard..." I whisper, feeling exceptionally hot in my hoodie.

"No, you're fine," he smiles, "that was honestly the best sex I've ever had..."

I roll over, so I'm laying on my back beside my friend and let my mind wander a little, staring up at the ceiling. I just had sex with Joe Trohman. One of my best friends. I just cheated on Gerard. Is that okay? Well, no. It's not okay. But would he forgive me? Or would he glare and tell me to leave.

I'm a dirty cheat.

I let the thought pass, deciding to think about it later and instead focus on Joe, asking a simple question, "This didn't... this didn't fuck up anything, right?"

"Depends," he turns to me, "Do you think of me as more than a friend?"

I shake my head, "You?"

"Eh," he says, "I've had a little bit of a crush on you for a while, but I don't think that'll fuck anything up..."

I smile, "Okay..."

He sits up, "I'm gonna go back to see what Ray or Andy are doing."

I furrow my eyebrows, "Ray Toro? And Andy Hurley?"

He nods, "You know them?"

"I went to school with them for three days when I lived with Mark and Allie." I laugh.

"Then let's go say hi."

The brunette leaves the bed and finds his underwear again, pulling them back on along with his pants, shirt, and vest, I follow his lead with exhaustion in my movements.

My mind is still on a constant buzz, and my skin is still sensitive as fuck. I can barely concentrate it's so distracting, but I think I like it. I love the way it changes me, not in a bad way but just enough to make me less anxious around other people. If I hadn't been on it while topping Joe, I probably would have had a panic attack at least twice, and I would never be that dominant. I really like it because it makes me feel free. It makes me feel... high... I guess that's the only way to describe it.

This is gonna be a good few days.