[identity profile] pushkin666.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] unmarked_place
Title: in the lights you make
Author: [livejournal.com profile] pushkin666
Pairing/Characters: Pete/omc, pre-Patrick/Pete, Patrick, Andy
Rating: R
Word count: 3714
Disclaimer: See Community Introduction Post
Warnings/enticements: BDSM, wax play - see Community Introduction Post for further information.

Summary: Pete knows that it's dangerous when he's like this; there's always the risk that he'll play with the wrong person, but he doesn't care.

Author notes: Heaps of angst. Pete being in a bad place and Patrick not helping matters. Andy being an awesome friend. References to Pete’s past. Many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] dreamersdare for an excellent beta as always. Three cheers to [livejournal.com profile] kat_lair for her help. Title from The Kids from Yesterday by My Chemical Romance.




Pete opens his eyes and then wishes he hadn’t. It’s bright enough to be at least noon and it feels like the sunlight is trying to bore holes through his skull and straight into his brain. He pushes himself up from the bed, needing to get to the bathroom. Pete’s head feels muzzy and thick like he’s trying to see through fog and pain crashes down on him as he pushes himself to his feet. There isn’t a part of his body that doesn’t seem to ache and he stumbles slightly. His head is spinning dangerously and Pete rests a hand against the wall before sliding slowly down onto his knees. He needs water and pain killers

Pete only has a vague recollection of the previous evening. He knows he picked up somebody at the club, somebody non-Family. Not the smartest move, granted, but last night he just hadn’t cared. All he’d wanted at the time was somebody who wouldn’t hold back, who would hurt him enough that he didn’t think about the events leading up to the night’s activities; somebody who wasn’t safe and would play harder because he didn’t live by the rules that the Family did.

Pete knows from the way that he’s feeling that he took drugs. There was a time when that was a regular part of his life, when he couldn’t get through a day without a little chemical help, but he’s tried to clean up his act over the last few years. Thought he had.

And then he’d met Patrick. Sometimes he really wishes he hadn’t. Pete wants Patrick like he’s never wanted anybody before, not since Bea. Whenever he sees him he has one of two reactions; he either wants to kneel in front of him or curl up next to him. Pete knows that he has finally met the Dom who he would be happy to submit fully to and it scares him.

But Patrick doesn’t seem interested. He blows hot and cold and Pete doesn’t know where he stands with him. One moment he seems happy to have Pete around him, to work with him but the next he’s scowling at him and being distant, angry even.

Pete doesn’t know how to deal with this. He’s tried his normal tricks; flirting and preening, hell, downright propositioning Patrick, and, when that didn’t work, reverting to brat mode. All that’s done though is make Patrick back off even further. This is why yesterday was such a nightmare.

~~~

PREVIOUS EVENING

Pete’s prepared for a quiet evening just chilling out at the club. It’s a workshop and market place night and Andy’s there as well so Pete fully intends to spend some time hanging out with his friend; keeping Andy company whilst he sells his goods to the patrons, or takes orders for bespoke items.

It doesn’t quite work out that way thought. Brendon and Patrick are due to give a wax play demonstration, but Brendon calls in sick and Pete is asked to step in. He can tell by Patrick’s posture alone that he is not happy about it. But Patrick is a professional above all else and he says nothing about the substitution, simply instructing Pete to strip and get on his back on the display table.

Pete obeys and settles down onto the padded table. There is quite a crowd gathering to watch them and he smiles. He loves demonstrating, being the centre of attention. There is a selection of candles next to the table; both white and coloured. Pete swallows; his mouth dry in anticipation. He takes a mouthful from the water bottle that Patrick offers him, before letting him tie a blindfold securely over his eyes and lying back down.

Pete likes wax play as a rule, enjoys the burning sensation against his skin, particularly being blindfolded and not knowing where the hot wax is going to fall. He loves the way the wax slides over him, shading and tracing his body in colours. He knows he looks beautiful like that and the fact that it’s by Patrick’s hand is even better.

The first splash hits his skin, burning, and the pain starts to build quickly. He zones out, listening to Patrick’s voice as though through cotton wool. Patrick explains to those watching just what it is that he’s doing; what the difference between the candles is and how the coloured wax is hotter than the white, how to do this safely. Pete imagines the way he looks right now, the multicoloured strips of wax covering his chest and thighs, and can’t help but preen a little.

Everything seems fine and eventually Patrick removes the blindfold. Pete watches as Patrick picks up a knife, using it to slowly remove the wax from Pete’s body. He rests the flat of the blade against Pete’s hot skin, the metal cool and soothing. Pete is calm, comfortable, trying not to shiver at the feel of Patrick’s hands.

Suddenly, Patrick’s fingers tense, digging in and Pete looks up. Patrick is holding himself very still, and with a dawning sense of shame Pete realises what he’s seen. There are silvery lines running across his skin of his thighs, scars he’s carved into his body over the years, the older ones faded and not so obvious anymore unless you look closely.

Pete’s gaze gets caught by Patrick’s eyes and he forgets to breathe. Patrick is clearly angry, his jaw stiff as he glares down at the marks.

Pete swallows and looks away. He never wanted Patrick to find out, not like this, and he can't do anything, doesn't want to say anything. He can't bear it, the way Patrick holds tight to him as though he has that right. It’s clear he has questions, questions that Pete can't or won't answer. He digs his nails into Patrick’s hand, trying to remind him of where they are. It works and Patrick lets go, stepping back and giving him some room. Pete sits up and swings himself off the table. He pulls his clothes on, his fingers clumsy, knowing that Patrick’s attention is wholly on him even though he’s talking to the audience. Normally, Pete would stay to answer questions from people, but this time he can’t. His heart is pounding so hard he feels for sure that Patrick must hear it and he’s trying desperately to quell the shaking that he can feel threatening. If he’s not careful he’s going to have a full blown panic attack. He needs to get away; from his past and from Patrick.

Pete runs from the demonstration room, ignoring Patrick's calls, the way people stare at him as he pushes his way through the crowd, humiliated by the marks and by what they signify, how weak they show him to be. No matter how often Pete tells himself he's better now, the scars will always show him for what he was: a self-harming junkie.

Pete heads further into the club, making sure to keep out of Andy's way. Andy has known him long enough to recognise the look in his eyes; the dangerous need he has to lose himself, to simply let go and surrender to someone else's desires. Pete knows that it's dangerous when he's like this; there's always the risk that he'll play with the wrong person, but he doesn't care. Going to Family Tops would be safer, but weirdly it would feel as though he were being disloyal to Patrick, although there's really nothing to be disloyal about. Patrick isn’t his Dom and after tonight it’s unlikely he’d ever want to be. Pete knows that Patrick deserves and needs a sub who’s strong and stable, who isn’t as fucked up as he is.

What Pete wants tonight, what he deserves, is to be taken down, to be hurt and used. He wants a complete stranger, someone who'll be gone the next day and won't care what state Pete’s left in, either physically or mentally.

Finding one isn’t a problem. Pete walks over to the bar, grabs a couple of shots of whisky and heads back into the club. It's not long before he sees what he's looking for. Pete’s not picky about gender, never has been, but tonight he wants a man. The club has always been hot on ID so Pete knows he's relatively safe, but even so he shivers as he looks at the guy he’s set his sights on. He's taller than Pete and built like a biker; long hair, chains and leather clothing completing the image. Pete wipes the involuntary smile from his face and sways his hips a little as he gets closer. The Top's attention is caught; his gaze is predatory as he looks Pete up and down before motioning him over. It’s all falling into place. Pete steps closer and leans up against the wall, pushing his right hip out. The man's eyes darken and Pete can almost hear him growl.

Pete hands over one of the glasses of whisky and then they start to negotiate. Pete keeps it simple – hard limits, physical and verbal safe words. He doesn’t want to hang around. It’s more than likely that Patrick is going to be looking for him and Pete wants to be gone before he finds him.

Within minutes Pete is being steered out of the club, the man’s hand flat on his back. He stops to say goodnight to Andy before he leaves, he's not that much of a fool. He ignores the concerned look that his friend gives him. Andy's pissed, Pete can tell, but he doesn't know if it's at him or the Top, nor does he care. Already the adrenaline is beginning to surge through his system and it's all he can do to stop himself from dragging the other man out of the club.

Pete’s flat isn't far and they catch a cab there and by the time they arrive Pete’s wrists are beginning to mark from the grip the Top has on him. He’s clearly becoming as impatient as Pete, pushing him down the stairs to Pete's basement apartment. Once inside he doesn't hesitate to push Pete up against the wall, pressing Pete’s face into the wallpaper. He holds Pete’s hands tight for long seconds, rubbing his erect cock against Pete's ass, before letting go and telling him to keep his hands where they are, not to move. He steps away and Pete tenses slightly as he hears the swish of a belt being undone and pulled free.

He holds back a moan as the man opens Pete's jeans next, pushing them and his underwear down to the floor. Pete steps out of his clothes and then his legs are kicked apart.

“Count them out,” the man says and then Pete’s gasping out the number of the strokes from the belt as each one stripes across his buttocks and thighs, the leather loud against his skin. He feels the surge of excitement rising as the belt continues to strike him, the buckle breaking the skin. Eventually, the beating stops and Pete is turned around roughly, the back of his head banging against the wall as the Top wraps his hand around Pete’s throat and begins to squeeze. His lungs struggle for oxygen; his mouth and nose begin to chase breath it hurts and his thoughts are beginning to swim by the time he's released and pushed to his knees. Fingers fist in his hair and his face is pushed into the man’s crotch.

And that's how Pete remembers it beginning.

~~~

PRESENT DAY

Pete crawls across the bedroom floor to his wardrobe, checking his image in the mirror. He looks like he's been beaten up, his face bruised and mouth cut. What worries him is he can't really remember that much of it; how he got the rest of the marks. He can catch glimpses in his mind’s eye but that’s all. It looks as though he's been backhanded and that the man was wearing at least one ring. His body aches all over and his ass is sore. Oh, he knows he hasn't been raped, but he's been well and truly used and from the way he's feeling inside he figures he's been fisted amongst other things. He runs his fingers between his ass cheeks to check if there's blood but they come back clean and for that he's thankful. There's no way he can go to work though, he doesn't think he's in good enough condition to even get into the bathroom.

Slowly, Pete makes his way back to the bed and stumbles for the phone. He hits the speed-dial for Andy and waits for his friend to answer.

Andy picks up on the first ring, almost like he’s been waiting for the call. Which he probably has. “Pete?”

“Andy…could you come over?” The question is hesitant even though Pete knows that there’s really no need. Of course Andy will come; he’s been there for Pete since they met.

“What happened? Pete, what the hell did you let him do to you?” Andy’s voice is etched with concern and Pete winces at his words.

“Too much,” he says. “Too much this time.”

“Jesus, Pete!” Pete can almost see his friend shaking his head. “I’ll be over straightaway. Don’t do anything until I get there, okay?”

“Okay,” Pete drops the phone on the bed and wraps his arms around himself. He knows he’s screwed up, knows that in the long run last night wasn't a good idea but he needed it. He needed the edge taking away; to fall into something and forget for a while. Having somebody go that little bit too far is better than the alternatives. He never wants to go back to that place, to the person that he once was.

He closes his eyes and waits for Andy to arrive. Thankfully, Andy has his own key to Pete’s apartment, something he’d demanded when Pete moved out of their shared flat and into his own place. Pete had met Andy just after he’d left Chicago; still running from the pain of Lady Bea’s death. Not only had she been his Domme and his Mentor, she’d also been his friend, his lover... hell, he supposes at times his mother as well. She was everything he’d needed to get his head sorted and then bang! One drunken idiot behind a wheel and she was gone, dead at the age of 45. Pete knows even now that he’s never really gotten over it, often wondering how things would have turned out if she’d lived.

Andy has seen him at his worst, when Pete’s been so low that he’s not known what to do with himself. He’s been the one who supported Pete away from alleyways where he’d been puking his guts up from too many drugs and too much drink. Andy was there when Pete collapsed in their flat from the same and he watched as Pete brought people home who would hurt him and not in the way that Pete really needed. Andy was the person who took Pete to hospital after his overdose, waited at his bedside for him to wake up and then cursed him out. He knows where the scars on Pete’s body came from, has seen the marks on Pete’s arms and legs after he’s cut himself, something he started to do after Bea died.

Pete sighs, gingerly trying to straighten his aching muscles, but even the sheets feel too harsh against his skin right now. He’s self-aware enough to know that it was Patrick noticing the scars that set him off last night. His only hope is that Patrick won’t push it, won’t mention the scars to him when they see each other next. Pete really doesn’t want to explain what they are and how they got there, but he also knows that if he’s ever likely to tell anybody it would be Patrick, and that frightens him.

He wants Patrick; it’s like an ache inside him. He wants to feel Patrick holding him down, to submit to him, to lay himself wide open.

But Patrick doesn’t want him. He’s made that abundantly clear to Pete. Oh, they’ve worked scenes together for demonstration purposes and it’s been smooth, the energy flowing between them almost making Pete believe at times that it was real.

That’s what frightened him that first time, how it just clicked between himself and Patrick, how it felt right to submit to him. But of course, being Pete he’d backed off, scared. He’s only felt this way once before in his life and, well, he’s still trying to claw back the pieces and put himself back together from how that ended. He’d been sure Patrick would come looking for him after that first demonstration they’d done; the way that Patrick had rested his hand on him afterwards had told him as much. So Pete had spent the rest of the weekend avoiding Patrick, had made sure that he was always busy with some other man or woman whenever Patrick was about, kneeling next to them, submitting to them before taking them back to his room where, for a while, he could lose himself.

He knows what he’s done of course. From that moment of recognition between the two of them, that startled and open look in Patrick’s eyes as he gazed at him after the demonstration, the look that said Mine, it had all changed. At first Patrick seemed to be disgusted with the way Pete was throwing himself at people. Having seen Patrick in action Pete knows that he never takes anybody to his bed who is as indiscriminating in his flirtations and affairs as Pete. If nothing else it appears Pete has successfully stopped himself from ever being taken to Patrick’s bed. Which of course was what he wanted – wasn’t it?

Now when Patrick looks at him it’s guarded, as though he doesn’t want Pete to see how he feels. Oh every now and again the overly-protective and, let’s be honest, fucking scary Dom that is Patrick Stump will show himself to Pete outside of a demonstration. There are moments when Patrick can’t stop himself from reacting to Pete as though Pete was his sub, his responsibility and his to look after. He’ll catch Pete’s wrist in his grip or put his hands on Pete’s hips and Pete will just want to give and give and give. But then the careful distance comes back, the hands are removed and Pete is left feeling empty and alone again. Just like he deserves.

~~~

Andy lets himself into the flat, not looking forward to what he thinks he’s going to find there. He’s seen the way Pete has been changing the last few months, slipping back into his old ways; although thankfully not drugs and drink, at least not yet.

Pete is hurting himself again, using other people to do it, taking home play-partners that are not safe. So far though, no matter what he’s done he’s managed to deal with it himself.

Last night Andy had wanted to intervene though, stop Pete leaving with that man. He hadn’t though, choosing instead to hope that Pete knew what he was doing.

That had clearly been a mistake. Andy curses under his breath, angry at both himself and Pete; time to see what little he could do to fix it. With a bracing breath he pushes open the bedroom door.

~~~

Andy puts the first aid it away and sits at the kitchen table. His hands are shaking and he drops his head into them for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to block out the memories. It had been worse than he’d expected.

When he’d stepped into the bedroom Pete had been in the shadows, curled into himself on the bed. He’d cried out when Andy touched his shoulder, taking a moment before he looked up and allowed Andy to see the damage to his face; swollen jaw and bust lip, make-up streaked across his skin, cutting through the damage, the blood.

Andy had helped him up, trying not to show the shock he felt as he saw what had been done to Pete, the mess of bruises and cuts his body had become. There had been blood dried on his back and the back of his legs where he’d been beaten. Pete thankfully had stayed silent, his eyes cast down as Andy helped him into the bathroom, using the shower to wash the blood and dried semen off Pete. After that Andy had sat him down in a hot bath whilst he changed the bed sheets and opened windows to get rid of the stink of blood, smoke and sex.

Pete had still said nothing, not even when Andy had dried him off and put antiseptic on his lip that made Pete hiss in pain. He’d forced a couple of painkillers down Pete and then made him lie on the bed whilst he’d dealt with his back. Andy had asked nothing about the previous night other than if this was somehow because of Patrick. Pete hadn’t said a word but the way his body had tensed had been answer enough. Finally Andy had covered him up, ran his hand gently through Pete’s hair and told him to sleep before escaping to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door softly behind him.

~~~

Andy pulls his cell out of his pocket and stares at it for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. His first instinct is to ring Patrick. After all, it all comes down to him whether or not Patrick himself realises it. Perhaps not though. Pete has no claim on Patrick, and Andy doesn’t know Patrick well enough to be sure he would even come if asked.

He sighs. Pete’s Family and this is the result of a scene going too far. Andy needs to speak to somebody at the club, somebody who will understand and who will be able to deal with Pete, without blaming him for this.

He scrolls through his list of contacts and hits the call button when he finds the name he’s looking for.

“Bob,” he says when it’s answered. “It’s Andy. We have a bit of a problem.”

Date: 2011-05-21 03:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bionic-needs.livejournal.com
i completely and utterly love this world You have created. Please keep it coming.

Date: 2011-05-21 06:49 pm (UTC)
jedusaur: A hockey stick with the paddle wrapped in rainbow-colored tape next to a puck, lying just above the blue line on a rink. (no fluff)
From: [personal profile] jedusaur
Oh man, I'm rooting so hard for Pete and Patrick to get their shit together. :D

Date: 2011-05-22 02:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dishonestdreams.livejournal.com
Last line is brilliant. And Bob will make everything better for he is awesome to the nth degree; I just know it :)

My BB love aside, this is good, hon. I like the changes; I think I could read about a million words of Pete and Andy BFF fic and I do like the Pete/Patrick dynamic you guys have pulled together for this verse; it's fascinating.

Good stuff all round :)

Date: 2011-05-23 05:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreamersdare.livejournal.com
Anytime :) And yes, the expanded conversation worked much, much better. Nicely done on that.

*snorts* All relationships in this verse are screwy to some degree (except possibly the Alex/Ryland one...). That's why I love it :)

Date: 2011-05-25 08:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreamersdare.livejournal.com
Oh yes, I forgot about them :)

Gabe ♥ He definately needs to go in; do you have thoughts as to with who or are you still musing that one?

Date: 2011-05-28 11:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dreamersdare.livejournal.com
I look forward to seeing who it is then :D

Date: 2011-05-23 10:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] moth2fic.livejournal.com
Interesting andd angsty. I'm enjoying the world - it feels quite 'real'!

Date: 2012-06-24 07:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] darkxblackxrain.livejournal.com
This is one of the coolest and best written verses I've ever read. So happy ro see more

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