Things like this dont really happen, except in cheesy teen movies where the

protagonists are suppose to learn some great life lesson on taking people for
granted and realizing that walking in the other persons shoes is not as easy
as they may have believed. This isnt a movie and Pete isnt Lindsay Lohan
and Patrick isnt Jamie Lee Curtis, yet here they are.

They stare at each other having a kind of standoff in the middle of the
kitchenette on the bus. Patrick is surprised he hasnt run out screaming
bloody murder; hes not sure if he should feel proud or sad that this is
probably not the weirdest thing that has happened to him since he met Pete.

I dont know how this happened, Patrick says and stops to frown because
his voice is just weird. He shakes his head and continues, but Im sure its
your fault.

Dude, why is it always me? Pete asks but he has Patricks voice. Pete is
Patrick and he wants to run into a room with a lock and not come out until he
jerks off for a good three hours until he categorizes all the noises this
awesome mouth makes. Hes sure Patrick would castrate him if he did, so he
settles for singing.

Stop that. Its weird, Patrick says crossing his arms. Seeing the tattooed
arms from this angle is starting to freak him out so he uncrosses his arms.

Okay, I think Im going to freak out now, Patrick states calmly even though
he so isnt.

No, hey, remember this happened to Butcher and Sisky two weeks ago and
they totally switched back to normal in, like, two days, so we just have to wait
it out, Pete says and hopes Patrick doesnt throw a tantrum and starts
throwing shit, because, to him, he got the best end of the deal.

Fine, whatever, but if we dont change back, youre going to have a hell of a
time explaining to people why you have become so boring, Patrick warns.

For his part, Pete just looks confused. What do you mean?

I mean, Im not going to become you if we get stuck like this. No more stage
diving, no more tattoos, no more kissing other boys, Petes surprised gasp,
or Patricks really, rings out.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Pete is covering his own mouth
with Patricks hand and it is the first time they have touched since their
bodies went all freaky Friday on them. Its such a bizarre feeling that they
flinch apart almost immediately.

Wow, thats really strange, Patrick says reaching up to take his hat off and
run his hand through his hair. Hes startled when there is no brim to reach for;
there is nothing to get in the way of running his hand through his hair and
that makes him feel oddly vulnerable. Before he even thinks about what hes
doing; hes reaching back for Petes ever present hoodie and pulls the hood
over his head.

When he realizes what hes done, its too late and he reluctantly looks over at
Pete, who is giving him an adoring smile. He knows its adoring because
thats the look he used to give Anna before things went down the gutter. That
look shouldnt make him feel anything yet this body just gave a happy flutter
in his stomach, but he could be wrong Pete could just be hungry.

Stop making my face do that, he mumbles.

Dude, its going to be awesome being you, Im going to go sing-

No, no Spice Girls, no Nsync, no Backstreet Boys, no Pussycat Dolls and oh

my God, NO Kelis, Patrick nearly screeches imagining his voice spewing out
that Kelis song and it would be that song because thats the only song that
Pete knows; he would never live down the humiliation.

You know what, better yet, make it no songs written after the 90s unless its
ours, obviously. Pete doesnt even look sad; he just grins. Patrick never knew
his face could look that scary. Pete starts singing Sinatras, Almost Like Being
In Love.

Pete is just starting the song when Patrick decides to tell him to shut it. This is
also the moment Andy and Joe decide to walk into the bus.

They stop in their tracks and turn confused looks at Patrick in Petes body.

I, honestly, never thought Id live to see the day youd tell Patrick not to
sing, Andy says slowly as if hes afraid.

Joe nods in agreement. Patrick sighs, Pete laughs merrily, and wow, he has a
really nice laugh. Patrick shakes his head; this experience is turning him into
a narcissist.

So, Pete starts, remember TAIs Incident two weeks ago? Yes they called
it the Incident in quotation marks and all because Bill is all for the
dramatics. It doesnt help that hes been spending an unhealthy amount of
time with Gabe.

His band mates dont need further explanation, before they double over in
laughter. Patrick hates his band.

You laugh now but if this happens to you two, no more weed Thro-man and
you can kiss your veganism good-bye Andrew Hurley, Patrick says viciously
and yeah, Patrick is totally proud of the viciousness Petes voice gives to the
threat. Andy and Joe stop laughing.

Patrick kind of loves Pete a lot right now, this very second, nano-second

actually, because hes not sure what will happen in the next second.

Okay, then what do we do? Joe asks, plopping down to sit in the booth in
the kitchenette. Andy sits next to him.

Umm, we wait, says Pete, who is now adjusting Patricks beret hat while
looking in the shinny surface of the toaster.

Patrick walks up to him and slaps his hands away. Stop it. That is not a toy.
He hears a noise that sounds like stifled laughter but when he turns to glare
at Andy and Joe; they are the very picture of innocence.

Patrick, I want to wear a different hat for every hour Im you, Pete says
excitedly his face, or Patricks face, lit up with glee.

This time the laughter isnt stifled at all; Joe and Andy are cackling like mad
leaning over each other for support.

Oh my God, his face, Joe chokes out between laughter. Patrick really hates
his band.

Pete, I dont even have enough hats to attempt what you want to do,
Patrick says deciding to ignore the cackling hyenas behind him.

Okay, this is all well and dandy but we have a show in two days, Andy says
wiping tears of mirth from his face.

Patrick sighs, What can we do but wait it out?

And if you dont change back? asks Joe, who is looking at Pete, who has

hopped onto the counter and is swinging his legs back and forth.

Look at how cute my legs are, Pete announces, staring intently at Patricks
legs as they swing back and forth.

In this second Patrick really hates Pete for not taking this as seriously as he
should because what if they do get stuck this way.

If we dont change back, Patrick starts, then Pete is going to become a

very good bassist and a very boring person and Patrick.

Is going to become an attention whore and a slut, Andy supplies.

Hey! Pete and Patrick say in unison. Pete stares at Patrick; he has stopped
swinging his feet and his face is serious so Patrick gives him his full attention.

Well change back Trick, trust me. And thats the thing Patrick does,
blindly, since the day they met.

Being Pete is not easy. If this is the lesson he was suppose to learn; well the
cosmos can go fuck themselves because he already knew that. Hes the guys
best friends for fucks sakes; if anyone knows being Pete isnt easy, its him.

Pete and his emotional baggage, however, is not the reason it is not easy
being him. No. That honor goes to his brain and the body he is currently
occupying. Its like his mind is still his, he has all his memories from childhood
until present time and he can still write music and thats about it. Even
though, he has his own mind, this body has its own muscle memory. This
body doesnt need glasses, which is good, but this body wants to be in
constant motion. It wants to be awake all the time. It also has this strange
involuntary reflex of reaching out for Patricks body whenever Patricks body

is within arms reach and even when its not which he just files away as a
Pete thing.

All those quirks he can live with, he can deal with the medication regime, and
the weird habits. He can deal with all of that; he can ignore and bear with it
because its temporary. What he cannot not do, is cope with the fact that
Petes body completely refuses to play bass, good bass, and absolutely goes
blank when holding his guitar. So Patrick is sitting on the floor in the bunk
area, the hoodie of Petes sweatshirt pulled up over his head so far that he
can hardly see anything, pouting like a five year old at his abandoned guitar
and his numb fingers.

When he realized Petes clumsy fingers could not play for shit, he was
convinced he could teach this body to play good. Unfortunately, he also
forgot that nonstop practice resulted in, what feels like, bleeding fingers. Now
he cant play anymore guitar because his fingers feel like theyre going to fall
off.

Also, Petes body is thrumming with pent up energy that playing guitar for
two hours straight did nothing to alleviate. Patrick feels if he doesnt do
something soon hes going to explode. With a sigh, he gets up from the floor
and goes looking for Pete to find a solution.

Pete is sitting on the couch in the back lounge, squinting at the T.V. hes
squinting because he is not wearing glasses.

Pete, did you lose my glasses, is at the tip of his tongue but what he says
is, I feel weird. He fidgets; fists his hands and buries them in the pockets of
his hoodie. His shoulders go up to his ears, hes so tense he feels a light
breeze might snap him.

Pete looks up and cocks his head to the side, considering. Did you take my
pills? Patrick nods and its strange how the sound of his voice causes this
body to start relaxing; he can feel his shoulder muscles loosen.

Okay, come here, Pete beckons him and without further thought Patrick
goes to him.

Hes not sure if its him or this body that automatically goes to lie down,
pillowing his head on Petes thighs. Pete hums and runs a hand though his
hair.

You washed my hair, he states before letting out a low chuckle. The sound
makes Patrick feel warm. Safe. He thinks.

Yeah sorry about that, Patrick says with no hint of remorse in his voice.

Dude you totally saw my goodies.

Pete everyone in the internet and their grandma has seen your goodies.
Patrick hopes Pete will leave it at that because hes not quite ready to talk
about what that experience had made him feel. Yeah, hes man enough to
admit, at least to himself, that the feelings of arousal he had felt when he
was touching Petes body, while he was showering, were all his. Which, being
turned on by Pete, is nothing new to him but Pete doesnt need to know that.

For a second, it looks like Pete is going to keep going but shrugs it off and
grins down at him. Patrick feels himself relax even more, but the thrumming
in his body is still very much present.

Pete, he says, fidgeting again but he doesnt even know what hes asking
for.

Yeah, okay. Pete cant sing for shit, but Patrick can. So when Pete starts
singing its a shock to Patrick, to this body, which goes taut, alert, before it
just starts relaxing. Patrick takes a deep breath and listens.

And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies. Pete sings. Patrick closes
his eyes and concentrates on the wave of calm his voice brings to Petes
body.

It is such a strange experience to be able to listen to himself through

someone elses ears. He hears the candor of his voice, the rise and fall of
notes, the perfect pitch, the soft rumble that he knows comes from deep
within his chest and Petes body loves it. His muscles relax, his breathing
evens out and the thrumming energy he felt ebbs off his body leaving him
feeling loose, relaxed with a lazy smile on his lips.

And pray they dont grow up to be. By the time Pete finishes the last note,
Patrick is so relaxed; he feels like he could fall asleep forever. He looks up and
Pete is already looking at him with that same adoring smile as before.

Thats when realization hits him. He sits up slowly and swings his legs over
the couch to sit properly. He turns his body towards Pete, giving him a serious
look.

This, this is how you feel? Petes expression is blank. Patrick takes a second
to feel resentful; hes sure he could never get his own face to do that.

What I mean is, when you call me at two oclock in the morning and bug the
shit out of me to sing to you, this is what it does to you? It helps you relax?
And youre not just being, he pauses looking for the right word and there is a
reason hes not the lyricist.

A douche-bag, Pete supplies helpfully.

Well, yeah, Patrick says his voice small, afraid of the answer.

Yeah, Pete admits.

I make you feel this. Its a statement that Patrick is glad he doesnt need to
explain because hes not even sure where to even begin.

Yeah, Pete says, but hes not looking at Patrick. Hes staring at this hands,
which are folded in his lap, his shoulders up to his ear, his entire frame
hunched into itself. It doesnt matter that Pete is in Patricks body. The pose
screams of anguish so loudly that Patrick cant help it when he crawls into his
own lap and wraps Petes arms around himself and again that feeling of safe
washes over him.

Its overwhelming in the most flattering sense, because, wow, wow, he makes
Pete feel this. He makes Pete feel safe, calm, happy. Pete trusts him, trusts
him to set him right when not even his medication can. Patrick knows this but
to actually experience; it leaves him in awe. He is in awe at the level of trust
Pete has in him.

Thank you, for trusting me goes unsaid and Im sorry for not always
understanding, Patrick whispers and pulls back enough to kiss his own cheek
and fights off the weirdness of feeling his soft, slightly cool skin with Petes
lips. Pete only nods not asking for further explanation and tightens his own
hold.

For a moment Patrick wishes he was in his own body, so he could hold Pete
and feel the tension drain out him and know that hes the reason. He settles
for closing his eyes and pretending.

The following night they have an impromptu show for about two hundred
people, which they all forgot about until the bus is pulling into the venue.
Patrick, surprisingly, is not freaking out but Pete is, which seriously, cant win
them all.

What are you so nervous about? You know all the lyrics and we already

figured out that my body can play with muscle memory, Patrick says.

Yeah, but Patrick what if I suck and then people will think you suck and if I
hear anyone say anything about why does Patrick suck live? Im going to
punch some faces and then Im going to get thrown in jail and look at this
mouth, its just asking for trouble, Im going to end up someones bitch, Pete
finishes and worries his bottom lip with his teeth.

Patrick laughs; Pete gives him a hurt look. Still chuckling, he walks up to Pete,
takes his face in his hands and touches their foreheads together their eyes
locking. Its different than looking in the mirror because even though hes
staring at his own eyes, he can see a trace of Pete in there; its comforting.

Youre going to be great, youre not going to punch anyone and youre not
going to get my body thrown in jail to become someones bitch, okay. Pete
takes a deep breath and relaxes.

Okay.

Whoa, did you two switch back already? Joe asks walking in their dressing
room.

No, Patrick answers pulling away to grab Petes bass.

Hmm, must be a Pete thing then.

Patrick frowns. What is? he asks.

That touching you thing. When Patrick just gives him a confused look Joe
hmms and tries to elaborate. Like, you know how your body can play
through muscle memory, and muscle memory comes through repetitive

motion of an action and so youre in Petes body but Petes muscle memory
probably consists of oh theres Patrick, touch so you probably cant help but
like reach out and touch your own body all the time.

Are you high, Joe? Pete asks loudly. Patrick turns to look at him because he
makes that high pitched squeak when hes nervous.

No! Okay, yeah a little, he admits.

Joe! Patrick turns to glare at Joe, but this isnt a new occurrence so he
doesnt waste his breath.

Okay guys we need you on stage now, says a tech popping his head in
before leaving just as quickly.

Patrick grabs Petes bass and walks out and has no more time to think about
what Joe said. Joe maybe high, but his words ring true. Petes body has an
automatic reaction of reaching out for Patricks body when its near. Patrick
wonders why that is.

Too soon, theyre on stage high fiving before he turns and realizes hes on
stage and people are screaming his name and their energy is so palpable it
hits him. No not him, it hits Petes body by surprise. It makes him feel a kneejerk reaction and he takes an involuntary step back.

Well, shit, Patrick knows that Pete is not bull shitting people when he tells
them hes shy, he is. All these people shouting for him is a little
overwhelming especially because its a small crowd compare to the stadiums
where they usually play. The people are closer, louder somehow and it makes
Petes body feel claustrophobic and tenses immediately; his breathing speeds
up and his hands start sweating like crazy.

He looks over at Pete, because he is shocked that after all these years Pete

still feels this way. Pete, however, is looking down at the guitar around his
neck, barely grazing his thumb through all the strings, almost, as if willing it
to have four. Patrick tries to take deep breaths but its not working.

The show starts and he says a few awkward words to the crowd. Its a good
thing the kids are already so pumped, that it doesnt matter what he says
they scream back and cheer loudly. Andy starts off the beat and they start
playing Sugar.

Am I more than you bargained for-His voice bellows over the roar of the
crowd and thats all it takes for Petes body to relax.

He takes a deep relieved breath, smiles and the crowd goes wild. He should
have known. He looks over at Pete and Joe was so right because as soon as
he looks over Petes body screams, touch, touch, touch and the closer he gets
to his own body, the happier Petes body feels.

There is energy running through Petes body and he wants nothing more than
to reach out and touch his body so he can feel what hes feeling right now. He
wonders if this is why Pete always touches him during shows, if its an
attempt to transfer this amazing, euphoric, energy onto Patrick and make him
feel life in their music.

Patrick feels the life in their music when hes writing it, when Petes words fit
perfectly, when they play things for the first time in the studio and its raw
and imperfect but after a few tries the songs come alive and its them and its
everything, its life. When he plays live it feels mechanical, trying to make his
voice last and not mess up any notes, never has it felt like this.

Next thing he knows hes presses up against his back and Petes body sighs
and shivers happily and he spends the rest of the show there, where he feels
whole, where he feels the life of the music.

After the show, he feels like hes riding a high, everything is brighter, sharper,

louder but not in a bad way. Petes body is still thrumming with energy but he
recognizes it as the adrenaline high after a show.

Why didnt you tell me you still get nervous? Patrick asks Pete as soon as
he can.

Andy looks over at Pete, Really because I thought that was an awesome
show.

It was, Joe agrees stepping into the dressing room running a towel over his
sweaty face. At least now we know if you dont switch back we wont be
fucked.

Thanks Joe glad to know youre looking out for our best interest, Patrick
deadpans and turns to look back at Pete, who shrugs.

I dont. I usually do some rituals to help me before we play, but I was too
busy freaking out about singing that I forgot to tell you, Pete explains.
Patrick feels like there is more to that but hes not sure how to ask.

Rituals? All you do before a show is throw yourself at Dirty or drape yourself
all over Patrick, Andy says.

Yeah, well, you know, release pent up energy, it helps. Theres too much
commotion going on back stage and in their dressing room to have a proper
conversation so Patrick lets it go.

Soon theyre being escorted into cars and driven to a hotel, where Joe and
Andy wordlessly room together, leaving Patrick and Pete to share a room.
They ride up the elevator in silence and as soon as they get to their room,
Pete heads for the bathroom.

You are a sweaty little fucker, Patrick Stump, he says before closing the
bathroom door.

Patrick sighs, he has no comeback because its true. Its still early but Patrick
is tired. They have to drive out early in the morning so they can get to their
next venue. He wonders if hes going to be able to sleep tonight. He
rummages through Petes bag and pulls out the clothes Pete had put in there
earlier and waits for Pete to come out.

Once Pete gets out of the shower, Patrick starts to head in but not before
giving the blush his face is sporting a considerate look; too hot water he
thinks and dismisses the thought. No, that looks kind of like the blush he gets
when he, his eyes go wide. He ducks his head and rushes into the bathroom
because he really, really doesnt need to think about what Pete may have
been doing to his body in the shower.

He takes the fastest, most unproductive shower in the history of showers

ever taken. He keeps his eyes closed the entire time and washes
methodically, doing math problems in his head. At one point, he almost falls
on his face when the floor gets too slippery with the soap suds, but his eyes
remain close.

He dresses in the same way and only opens his eyes when he pulls the soft
fabric of Petes pajama bottoms over his hips. The shirt he pulls over is an old
Green Days shirt that he thought he had lost. He shakes his head and thinks
about Petes unhealthy klepto tendencies, to distract himself from the warm
feeling he gets over the thought of Pete wearing one if shirt to bed.

When he steps into the room, Pete is already sitting on one of the beds, legs
crossed Indian style. Hes frowning and as soon as Patrick steps further into
the room he huffs.

We have a show tomorrow, he states. Patrick doesnt say anything because

he already knows this.

Were playing in front of a lot of people and if we dont switch back I think
Im seriously going to freak out if I have to sing in front of that many people,
Pete says seriously.

Yeah, I have no idea what that feels like, Patrick teases trying to lighten the
mood. Pete does not laugh.

Patrick worries his lip and walks closer to the bed then he sits in front of Pete.
Okay, this is a very real possibility, so is there anything that will help you
with this or are we going to have to cancel? Patrick asks.

Pete sighs. I dont want to cancel. Could we, could I maybe sing through the
songs and you tell me where Im screwing up your voice and how to make
your voice sound like, well, you, Pete huffs again and turns pleading eyes on
him.

Patrick wants to laugh at the look on his face, but he doesnt want to be an
asshole. So he nods and scoots closer to Pete until their knees are touching
and he tells himself that its Petes body that needs this closeness.

Okay start singing, Patrick orders.

Pete looks to be contemplating before he launches into Im Like A Lawyer.

Patrick listens and everything is going fine until its not.

I only keep myself this sick in the head cause I know how the words get
you. Petes body starts feeling strange.

Pete, Patrick tries, because this feeling, its different than the relaxed
feeling Petes body gets when the sound of Patricks voice reaches his ears.
This is a different kind of feeling, its intense, arousing.

We're the new face of failure, Pete sings looking straight at him.

Patrick swallows, shifts, his eyes go wide because thats a fucking erection.
Hes getting hard from listening to his voice or Petes body is getting hard
from hearing his voice and having that look directed at him. He feels Petes
body sway forward in an attempt to get closer; he bites his lip to keep a moan
from escaping.

Prettier and younger but not any better off. Bullet proof loneliness. At best,
at best.

His breathing is coming faster now, and all he wants to do is press close,
close until his body is enveloped in that sound that brings this body such
pleasure. Now, now there is a tight feeling in his lower abdomen; he clenches
his hands into the blankets beneath his hands and recognizes the vague
feeling of an oncoming orgasm.

Me and you setting in a honeymoon, Pete sings on.

Petes body is about to come to the sound of his voice and theres nothing he
can do to stop it and to be honest with himself he doesnt really want to. In
some deep recess of his mind, he is shocked that he can do this to Pete. He
had no idea.

If I woke up next to you, if I woke up next to you.

Oh my god, Patrick moans out helplessly as Petes body shudders and he

comes so hard he closes his eyes. An orgasm in someone elses body feels
more intense because its new and strange in a really, really good way.

When he finally opens his eyes Pete is looking at him with a mixture of awe

and embarrassment. Umm, yeah, that kind of happens. I kind of learned how
to stop doing that a while ago, though, I guess you werent really prepared?

Oh my God, is all that Patrick can say.

Patrick, Patrick dont freak out, Pete pleads earnestly.

I just kind of really, really like you and your voice and your lips and your
cranky attitude in the morning and the way you bitch people out but all
calmly and the way you get me like no one else does and just, you, Pete
says in a rushed breath.

What? Patrick asks confused because hes still stuck in the, I just came to
the sound of my voice and Pete likes me.

And I think you might feel the same way, because this body does interesting
things when that body shows some skin or gets very close, Pete says and
hes trying to sound confident but Patrick can still hear the uncertainty in his
voice.

The puzzle pieces have finally clicked in Patricks head and he can now see
the full picture and he wants to bang his head against a hard surface for
being an idiot. Pete likes him and he likes Pete and if that thought didnt just
make him feel like a giant twelve year old girl, he would voice his thoughts.

Oh yeah, how do you know thats not your normal narcissism, Patrick
counters deciding to tease Pete a little.

Yeah I thought about that, Pete says honestly, but I normally only get a
boner when I look at you not when I look at myself.

I cant help it! You practically walk around in clothes two sizes too small,
showing skin all over the place and throwing yourself at me. Oh my God.
Patrick says realizing what he just said. He buries his face in his hands
because seriously they are such idiots. He also takes a second to think how
unfair it is that Pete, apparently, doesnt blush.

Patrick you love me! Pete throws Patricks arms around his body and they
fall back on the bed.

I may be minimally attracted to you, Patrick admits, using Petes hands to

go up around his waist where his shirt has ridden up and he is touching his
own skin; its warm.

Lets have sex, Pete announces.

No Pete, thatd be. No, just. No, Patrick is firm in this because that would be
so weird, it wouldnt even be like masturbating. It would be like having sex
with himself and he wants to touch Petes body with his own hands and feel
Petes hands on his own body. He is not budging on this. Pete must see this
because he amends.

Okay how about you jerk me off, or that body off and Ill do yours.

Okay. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then Pete is pulling him up
shedding clothing everywhere.

They sit facing each other sitting on their calves, legs apart, Patrick thinks
this should be weirder then it feels but its really not. Pete looks over at him
before taking Patricks cock into his hand. He lets out a low moan and closes
his eyes.

Yeah, like this, Patrick may be able to appreciate all the comments about his
mouth; it really does look indecent. Pete has bitten his lips so hard that his

lips are red and swollen and the way his skin is flushed. Yeah, he can maybe
see how hes aesthetically pleasing to some people and this body seems to
appreciate it, a lot.

He bites his lip before reaching down to touch Petes cock and its like having
an orgasm in Petes body all over again. Its new and strange and completely
thrilling. Petes hand is rough but it feels good and its that whole muscle
memory thing taking over again because his wrist is moving in ways he
doesnt move his own.

Pete seems to like a quick, rough up stroke and a slow teasing down stroke
and yeah, it feels really nice; he files the information away for later use. He
licks his lips and thinks about these hands on his body, about his hands on
this body. He opens his eyes and Pete is staring at him with want, and its
strange because Pete is looking at his own body but Patrick knows the want in
his eyes is for the person currently occupying it.

Patrick, tell me what you like, tell me what youre feeling, tell me what you
want, Pete says, his voice is breathless and rough. Petes body reacts
immediately to it, tension coiling low in his abdomen.

I, I want to feel your hands on me, I want you to feel my hands on you, I
want to watch you and know Im the one making you feel like this, Patrick
moans.

Yeah, I want that. I want to run my hands through your body and make you
feel like there is nothing else but my touch. Patrick, I need to touch you so
much. Petes voice is almost a whine.

Its seems like a synchronized move when they rise to their knees at the
same time and lean into each other. Patrick sways into Pete wanting to be
near the body that makes him feel this good. He takes a deep breath and his
own scent bombards his nostrils and its a battle of senses. Patrick knows this
is what he smells like, feels like, sounds like but to this body its all new and it
wants, wants, wants.

Without further thought, he turns his head and kisses his own lips. It feels like
dj vu. He is kissing his own lips and he can feel them soft and pliant under
Petes and its like hes experiencing it through two bodies. Petes body urges
him to press closer and he wants to drown in this body in this taste. He feels
dizzy, the need for air becomes second to this feeling of being where he
belongs.

They have stopped jerking off in favor of holding each other. Pete pushes his
tongue into his mouth and any feelings of Im making out with myself get
overruled, immediately, by the overwhelming want of Petes body.

This is completely new to Petes body. Hes experiencing this through Petes
body, which wants so much and so intensely that he cant help but press
closer and kiss deeper. Now he cant tell which taste is his and which taste is
Petes. Its a heady feeling, intoxicating, dizzying and he never wants to stop
feeling, never wants to take another breath if it means hell stop feeling this.

Just when Patrick thinks hes going to pass out from lack of oxygen; he feels a
rush of emotion so strong that he has to close his eyes and pull back to gasps
from the intensity. His body sways a little but there is a hand on his neck and
another on his waist keeping him steady.

Slowly he registers the feel of a rough hand on his neck and a lean body
pressing into his and foreign lips on his neck. He opens his eyes and hes
staring back at Pete. Pete is where he belongs back in his own body.

Patrick blinks rapidly; he has no idea what just happened. The only thing that
is registering in his head is Pete is touching me, Im touching Pete. He smiles.

Pete smiles back; its a nice smile. Patrick has a whole second to appreciate
that smile before Pete is leaning forward kissing his lips again. Yes, this is
what he wants and its all so different now. Petes body pressed into his own,
his lips on his, kissing him desperately as if he believes hes going to
disappear but now he knows better; he knows Pete just needs to get closer

and so does he.

They fall back on the bed. The weight of Petes body pressing him into the
mattress is reassuring. Patrick opens his legs so that they are pressed even
closer together. His erection rubs against Petes stomach and he can feel
Petes own erection on his inner thigh.

Patrick grinds his hips up. A moan from Pete breaks their kiss. Pete is looking
down at him pupils blown, breath coming out harsh and desperate.

Oh, God, I want you so much, Pete says breathlessly and leans down to kiss
Patricks neck. Patrick groans; his hands go to Petes hips urging him down, to
press harder and faster to create more friction.

One time long ago, shortly after recording their first album, Pete had told
Patrick he wanted to crawl into his skin. Patrick now understands that feeling.
He wants to press into Pete, move with his body, until their breaths,
movements and heartbeats synchronize so perfectly it would be like theyre
one person.

Pete, Patrick cries because this moment is so perfect. Pete touching him
and him touching Pete. Their bodies moving with perfect counterpoint
pressure and its almost enough but not quite yet.

Pete, Patrick says again and this time pulls Pete up to kiss him again. Pete
complies; Patrick feels Petes body lift briefly but before he can protest he
feels Petes hand taking both their cocks in hand. Patricks breath hitches and
he moans into the kiss, thats almost perfect, he thinks.

He reaches down to help Pete and together they work out a rhythm and soon
theyre no longer kissing merely sharing the same air, eyes locked, bodies
tumbling blindly towards orgasm. A few more strokes and Patrick feels the
familiarity of his own oncoming orgasm. Whats more arousing, he recognizes
the tension in Petes body as his own orgasm.

Patrick remembers what it felt like to come in Petes body; the tight tensing in
his abdominal muscles, the aching feeling in his cock before he exploded with
pleasure. The memory sends him over the edge at the same time Pete tenses
above him. Their strokes falter and they come, seconds apart.

It feels so good; better than any orgasm Patrick has had in a long time; this
tight coiling feeling until it snaps and hes coming into Petes hand, his hand
already covered in Petes come. Their bodies arch towards each other one
last time in a desperate attempt to share this intense euphoric feeling.

The room is silent but for the harsh exhale and inhale of breaths. Pete has
collapsed on top of Patrick his nose nuzzling his neck, his mouth nipping
lightly followed by a lick and then a gentle kiss. It tickles and Patrick giggles.

Pete pulls back to look down at Patrick, he gives him an awed look. Patrick
blushes, running a hand from Petes shoulder down to his wrist where he
holds him loosely. He is so emotionally and physically tired. His eyes start to
droop but he fights it in favor of watching Pete.

Pete smiles down at him, moves to spoon behind him and works a corner of
the sheets to cover them both. Sleep, he whispers into Patricks ear. Patrick
fights it for a few minutes but soon enough he loses the battle. He lets his
body lean back into Petes; it feels like home.

Patrick wakes up to lips on his shoulder and a hand caressing his hip.

You with me sleeping beauty? Patrick smiles.

So whats the lesson this was suppose to teach us? Patrick asks curious to
hear what Pete has to say.

That were idiots and it took being in each others skin to realize we, really,
really like each other, Pete says accentuating his action by grinding his half
hard erection into Patricks ass.

Patrick hmms and pushes back. The hand Pete has on Patrick's hip tightens.

Patrick Stump, dont start something you cant finish, Pete whispers into the
shell of Patricks ear, which makes Patrick shiver and push back into Pete
again. Finding a reason for their freaky Friday is forgotten.

When have I ever started something I dont finish, Patrick replies turning
around to kiss Pete.

Later when news reaches Gabe and Bill about Pete announcing, to anyone
with ears, that Patrick is his boyfriend and no one better even look. They both
smile and snuggle together on the couch theyre sitting at.

See I told you the Cobra would take care of those two idiots just like it did for
Sisky and Butcher, Gabe state gleefully.

I guess, Bill answers. Though, I honestly thought that not even the Cobra
could help dumb and dumber.

Never doubt the Cobra, Gabe says wisely.