Current mood:	bored
Current music:	The Used- All That I've Got

Um. shortness, I know. Ew.
Title: How May I Hurt You?

Disclaimer:Don't know, don't own, never happened, permission less.

Rating/pairing:Currently R, Matt/Jeremiah.

FYI:This will be a short chaptered fic. And most of it was written at five am in a motel room while listening to Straylight Run and drinking coffee. Surprisingly cheerful considerinf the circumstances. Run of the mill fic.

Dedication:howtotellalie suggested posting in matt_loves_jere? Pfft. I don't even know who you are, but I'm posting.

***

“Stop playing with it,” Jere says, and he’s looking at me really accusingly.

“I’m not playing with it,” I snap, gingerly using my tongue and upper teeth to roll the metal hoop through the centre of my lip, “I’m testing it.”

Jere looks at me incredulously, leaning his hip against the counter. “You fucking moron. What’s there to test?”

“That it doesn’t…hasn’t…I don’t know, hasn’t gotten stuck in one place! That it fucking moves, what’s it to you, anyway?”

Jere rolls his eyes, still staring at me. “You’re the dumbest fucker in the world, know that?”

I laugh, only because every one knows it’s funny when your best friend makes fun of you. Actually, that’s like, your best friend’s job or something, to keep your ego in check.

“Why’s that?” I ask, still snickering to myself. I’m at the table, alternating between pushing the hoop through my lip and pressing my cold, unopened beer can against the sore ness.

“Jesus, your lip is going to rot off-“

“My tongue isn’t that dirty.”

“Your mouth is dirty! You’re not supposed to be playing with-“

“My tongue has the same germs on it as my inner lip!”

“You keep touching it with your fingers!”

“I do not!”

“Yes you do, you- There! You just did!”

“I’m putting the can on it, ‘cos it’s sore!”

“God!” He rolls his eyes again and stamps his foot, and it’s so fucking priceless. How gay can you look? And he’s really throwing a temper tantrum over me touching my new piercing.

“You’re just jealous ‘cos you can’t touch it!”

“Yeah, Matt, that’s it…” he shakes his head, and he’s pulling a sandwich baggie out of a little cardboard box he’d pulled out of one of the kitchen drawers. He’s mumbling to himself, too low for me to hear, going to the freezer and pulling out an ice tray.

“Stop bitching to yourself, bitch,” I say, resting the can on the table and going back to sliding the tip of my tongue against the metal on the inside of my lip. I press kind of hard and I almost like the pain. It’s dull and throbbing when I put pressure on it, and I can feel that it’s a bit swollen.

I hear Jeremiah crack the ice tray back and forth in his hands to loosen the frozen cubes, picking some out and dropping them into the bag.

“I’m not bitching to myself…” he mumbles it, shoving the ice tray back into the freezer before picking the baggie back up from the counter. He walks over to the table, swinging the bag around in his hands a few times to close it before taking a seat next to me.

“Just because you’re too pussy to get any kind of piercing,” I sneer, and he doesn’t say anything, he just leans over and presses the bag of ice against my mouth. I think he does it partly just to shut me up.

I lift my hand and replace his with my own, holding the ice against my lip, raising my eyebrows at him. He takes the can in front of me and pops it open, leaning back and taking a sip.

“Well?” I say around the ice bag.

“Well what?” He blinks at me, taking another sip of my beer.

“You’re too pussy to get your own piercing.”

“You’re just trying to challenge me into shoving an eight gauge hoop through the centre of my nose,” he scoffs, and I steal my drink back before he can take another sip.

“Kinda. I just don’t think you can handle the pain, you’re a pussy.”

He rolls his eyes. “Hardly. I just don’t want something stuck through my face.”

I move the ice from my mouth long enough to take a sip of my drink, and Jere takes the can from me once more. I don’t protest this time, just press the bag against my lip again.

“Why don’t you get something lower?” I suggest, and he makes a “pssh” sort of sound.

“Yeah right, like what?”

“Nipples, navel, dick,” I shrug. “Mark Hoppus did that. The nipple thing.”

“I don’t want my nipples pierced, Matt. If I wore a tight shirt, it’d look weird. It looks weird on other people. It bothers me.”

I laugh because weird shit like that always bother Jeremiah. “What about naval?”

Jere shakes his head, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket and shakes his lighter loose from the package. “That, my friend, is just plain gay. There are some peircings guys just shouldn’t have.”

I roll my eyes at the comment. “God forbid either one of us look gay, right?”

He looks at me while cupping his hands over the flame of his lighter, cigarette dangling from his lips, shoulders hunched. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

I’m shaking my head, annoyed. “It means you’re one to talk about looking gay.”

“What?” He leans back in the chair again, blowing smoke into the air, expression critical.

“All the times we’ve made out and shit-“

“There’s a difference between lonely and gay, Matt.”

For some reason, that stung really bad and I change the subject back quickly. “What about your dick?”

He makes a shocked face, instantly bringing his knees up and grabbing his crotch protectively. “Are you fucking psycho!?”

I shake my head no, placing the ice on the table top. “You’re too pussy to do it?”

“There’s a huge fucking difference between getting your lip pierced and getting your cock pierced!”

“But if you did, you’d prove that you can handle it ten fold, right? And I got my nose pierced, that’s fucking…bone like shit. And who’s that kid, Mikey or some shit, who got his hand pierced? There’s stuff more painful.”

“It’s cartilage, not bone, and penises are sacred.”

“Fuck, whatever. You think my mouth is so dirty, and you stuck your dick in-“

“Shut up!”

“What, you did!”

“Can we not talk about that?!”

I glare at him, picking the ice bag up and slamming it against my mouth a lot harder then I meant to, but I cover up how much it fucking hurt. “Whatever. You’re a pussy. About everything.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t think I would go through with it?”

“Getting your dick pierced? No way.”

“Yeah I could, if I wanted it done, I could do it.”

“No you couldn’t.”

“Stop daring me.”

“Do it.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fine.”

“What?”

“I said fine.”

“I heard you…” I blink at him and he blinks back, finally breaking the sudden staring contest to take another drag. I shift the bag against my lip and raise my eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“You’re going to do it?”

“Yes! As soon as I finish this cigarette, we’ll go.”

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“No, I’m serious. You don’t think I have the guts to get a piercing, we’ll go do it.”

“Hah, I win.”

“No, my friend, if I get this done, you lose.”

“True, but you’ll get into the parlour and freak out.”

“Nope,” he grins, looking way too calm and cocky, (excuse the pun), to be really considering what we’re talking about.

“You’re going to get a needle stuck through your sacred penis?”

He takes another drag, eyes slipping shut, savouring the nicotine rush. “Yep.”

“Pssh, you’ll freak.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Yes we will,” I smirk and he just flips me off.

**

this doesn't have anything to do with anything, but someone needs to join as Bert at pandemonium_rp, because. Jephbert. Is. Um. Hot. That's all. More people need to join period.

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