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samurairobotics · 2 years ago

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* San Francisco Examiner (June '98)

Mike Patton Has Faith In His Future

Singer takes brainy, funny approach to music with new band Fantomas

James Sullivan, Chronicle Staff Writer Sunday,June 14, 1998

Mike Patton heard a blitzkrieg of music in his head. Then he went out and found the musicians who could play it.

Every worker has the tools of his trade, says Patton, who until recently was lead singer of the longtime San Francisco hard- rock mainstay Faith No More. ``My tools are musicians, effects, things like that. I got lucky that these guys wanted to work with me.''

The new group is called Fantomas; Patton's seasoned supporting cast includes Melvins guitarist Buzz Osborne, ex-Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo and Trevor Dunn, bassist for the singer's other long-running group, Mr. Bungle.

Perpetually energized

The perpetually energized Patton, 30, evidently isn't a guy who wastes much time. Mere weeks after the breakup of Faith No More, the acrobatic singer is set to put his new project out on a high wire. With just a few days of rehearsal completed, Fantomas debuts Thursday at Slim's, then travels to New York for a pair of dates July 1-2 at the Knitting Factory.

``We're talking about this thing that could blow up in our faces,'' Patton says, his voice rising with excitement. ``My plan is to rehearse it five days before the gig, and it'll be fresh. And if it blows up, it blows up.''

The band's name comes from a turn-of-the- century series of French crime novels featuring a one-man social disturbance called Fantomas. Whether or not the band wreaks any havoc of its own, Patton would like its internal relations to stay calm.

During Faith No More's rocky 16-year career the group earned a notorious reputation for infighting. Patton joined as singer in 1988, replacing future Bad Brains member Chuck Mosley (Courtney Love also sang with the band but lasted only four shows). Toward the end, keyboardist Roddy Bottum launched the successful pop group Imperial Teen, and drummer Mike ``Puffy'' Bordin took up with Ozzy Osbourne's touring band.

Contrary to certain opinions, Patton says Faith No More did not thrive on chaos. ``I didn't enjoy that part of it at all. I don't think coming down hard on a guy one day is going to make me write some brilliant lyrics the next day.''

With Fantomas, he says, there won't be any lyrics at all, brilliant or otherwise: ``It's all, like, comic-book sounds and baby talk.'' Patton says he is trying to avoid similarities to Mr. Bungle, however, which traffics in a delirious cacophony of sound fragments.

``It's crazy-sounding, it's got very fast changes and it involves some loud, noisy parts,'' Patton says of the new group's music. ``And that's about it. I consciously did not want to put a sub-Mr. Bungle band on the map. I don't think the world needs that.''

As with Mr. Bungle, which comes across like a heavy-metal version of Raymond Scott's intricate cartoon-jazz arrangements from the '30s, Faith No More was often cited for the wry humor of its musicianship and deadpan covers of songs such as the Commodores' ``Easy.''

Staying away from comedy

Patton rejects the notion that his music is comedic. ``That's something that gets tossed onto it after the fact. Whatever, if you want to call it slapstick. I just think (Faith No More has) gotten in trouble with that in the past.

``If you start with (comedy), you're making a left turn before you even get where you want to go. What you're doing is putting a smirk on your face, and in case anybody doesn't like it, you can say, `Aw, we were just kidding.' I think that's b.s.''

If his music sometimes draws smiles, Patton remains deadly serious and somewhat brainy about it. His side projects include a pair of solo records for avant-gardist John Zorn's Tzadik label, one of which, ``Pranzo Oltranzista,'' features Italian song titles culled ``from a book of futurist recipes.''

``I guess musicians see things in music,'' he says, ``and I wanted to make music about that.

``I don't actually read that much. I like movies a bit more. That's how I come up with ideas -- by seeing things, hearing things, recycling things. Stealing things!''

In part because of its grueling touring schedules, Faith No More never felt much like a hometown band, Patton says. ``We spent so much time milking it in other places that we never really got a chance to do anything here. I guess our high point was when we went to Europe seven times on one record.''

The excursions took their toll. ``By the time we got back, my favorite restaurant would be closed down, or a couple of friends would've moved away. While you're living in this little bubble, everyone else is getting on with it.''

Patton hopes to record with Fantomas in the fall. Thus far it's undetermined whether the group will release an album on its own or sign a deal, though the singer does admit lingering concerns about Faith No More's unfulfilled obligations with Warner Bros. ``I better not talk about it,'' he says.

Given the other commitments of the Fantomas members, the new group won't be a full-time job for Patton, as Faith No More was. ``This isn't going to be some `Animal House,' John Belushi-style band where everybody's living in the same house,'' Patton says. ``I'm not into that anymore.''

Unfamiliar Bband mates

Besides, he hardly knows some of his new band mates. ``I think I've met Dave once. I'm going by the records he's made.

``Buzz I know a little better because he used to live up here. Still, I don't know enough about these guys to know what kind of deodorant they use, or whether they pee on the toilet seat.''

He'll find out soon enough, when the band begins touring. In the meantime, Patton is happy to debut the group in San Francisco.

`You've got to do it somewhere, sometime. I'd rather be at home, comfortable, than sitting in Quebec eating french fries with gravy on them.

*** San Francisco Examiner

#san francisco examiner #fantomas #mike patton #interview #article #june 14 1998 #june 1998 #1998 #text #james sullivan #geocities #wayback machine

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nackrosor · 2 years ago

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~The Party~

Pairing: Mike Patton x Reader/ Mike "Puffy" Bordin x Reader

Warnings: mike patton is in brat mode on none

Synopsis: you're friends with the band and get invited to an after party at Roddy's house. You decide to go only to spite Mike but you really end up doing him a favor (and yourself as well).

Word count: 5,4k.

"Will you come to Roddy's house? He's throwing the best fucking party ever."

You nonchalantly slide your phone back in the pocket of your coat and look up at Billy, raising your eyebrows at his sudden invitation. You throw a glance at the other side of the backstage room, where Roddy is animatedly making out with a young boy on a sofa. Both seem not intended to end their session any moment soon.

"Is he, now?"

Billy follows your gaze and chuckles, playfully nudging your arm. "Everything is already set. The party will start as soon as we make our entrance!", he says, throwing his hands in the air to emphasize his statement.

You smile, shaking your head a little. "Thank you Billy but I'm not really in the mood. I don't think I will come-"

A sudden noise coming from the hallway distracts you, and you both turn around to see what's happening. A deranged Mike comes wobbling through the door, instantly throwing himself at Roddy and the boy in a bizarre and chaotic embrace.

"Were you going all out without me???" he shouts, laughing hysterically, as the boy stumbles away yelling at him, while the poor Roddy groans loudly.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, although you can't stop yourself from smiling a bit. "Typical Mike's behavior" you whisper, Billy sighs and slowly nods in response.

Ruined the two lovers' mood, Mike looks around as he scans the room to choose his next victim. Jim would be his favorite but unfortunately, he is nowhere to be found. His eyes fall on you and a smile creeps onto his lips. He swiftly moves over you and Billy, friendly encircling the latter's shoulders with his arm.

"Oh, my two favourite people in the world... what's happening here?" he asks in a strangely placid tone, frantically looking from you to Billy and back at you.

"Not your business." you spurt, holding his gaze as if challenging him.

His eyes sparkle for a moment as he looks at you, his jaw clenching. "Everything is my business here."

Billy clears his throat, eyeing you, his gaze questioning. You roll your eyes, shrugging. "Actually, Y/n was just replying to my invitation to the party... I believe she was declining it?"

Mike instantly breaks into a burst of laughter, smacking his friend on the chest. "Ha! You idiot! She never came to one single party since we started throwing them. You're just losing your fucking time! She is not the party type of gal, she says that bullshit every time."

"Fuck you, Mike! What's your problem?!"

"Whoa! Hold your nerves princess. I'm just stating facts." he grins, shrugging dramatically as he steps back, turning toward the bar.

"Well, you're totally wrong! I'll be at the party tonight, whether you like it or not. I don't care what you think." you state solemnly, rage boiling in your body.

Mike turns around, a beer in his hands as his eyes slide over you up and down. His usual wicked grin creeps over his lips. "Oh, I'm very glad to hear that, princess. Don't worry about me."

A chill runs down your body and you instantly look away. His stare is too much to handle. Also, that wicked smile always makes your knees buckle. Fuck him. Why does he have to be like that? And why do you have to like such an asshole? Ugh.

He gives out a guttural chuckle before gulping the cab down in one sip. "So, we're going or not?" he yells for anyone in the room to hear, "I'm not planning on spending the whole night here. My cock is aching for being sucked by some nasty whores." he winks at you as he says that, and then chuckles again, making his way out of the door he came tottering out from, a few moments before.

You glare at him until he is out of sight. Another chill runs down your back and stops at your lower stomach. You grit your teeth. He's such a motherfucker. You hate him. You hate him so much! But then... Why do you feel hurt by his words? Why does the image of him naked and being given head by some gorgeous groupies makes you angry? Makes you jealous?

Billy warily eyes you for a moment, before gently nudging your arm. "Y/N, are you ok?"

You come off your trance state and instantly turn toward him, your eyes wide. "Why, yes. I'm fine."

"You sure? You know how Mike is. Don't let his words reach you."

You sigh loudly, barely shaking your head. "I know Billy, I know... thanks." you whisper, showing him a little smile.

"So… You said you're coming?"

"I guess I did." you sigh, shrugging. "I'm coming."

Roddy’s house is just one brief car ride far. You, Billy and Puffy stall on the sidewalk as you wait for Jim to park his van. You can already hear all the noise from the gate and it only gets louder and louder as you walk through the driveway to the porch.

"Are we sure about this? I'm afraid everything's already a mess inside." you murmur, staring blankly at the closed door.

Puffy squeezes gently your shoulder and smiles at you as you turn to look at him. "These parties can get veeery crazy, but you don't have to worry Y/N. Just stay close to any of us and you won't get hurt."

"Jeez, thanks Puffy. That's very reassuring."

Puffy chuckles loudly.

"You'll be fine, really." Jim adds, patting your back. "Just try to stay away from Roddy and Mike. They can get insane at these things."

"Jesus Christ. Is it too late to go back home?" you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

The door suddenly opens and a young man comes running out of it, crashing into the four of you and falling to the ground. You can see the tears in his eyes as he turns to look at you. You're about to ask him if he's ok and help him up, but his gaze instantly darts away to land on Roddy, who's walking toward the opened door with a wide grin on his face. The guy's eyes widen and he frantically stands up, barely keeping himself from falling again as he runs to the gate and into the street without looking back. Well, that was... something.

Roddy bursts out laughing, holding himself on the frame of the door. "What a fucking pussy!"

You all stare at him in astonishment, then share a look between the four of you. Roddy doesn't seem to notice your bafflement while he rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt to wipe the tears off his face and as if nothing has happened, he opens the door wider inviting you all to enter. "C'mon! You're late already!" he yells, pushing Jim toward him and wrapping his arm around the poor guitarist's shoulders as he leads him further into the hallway. Billy follows reluctantly and Puffy takes a step forward but instantly turns around as he notices you're stalling back.

"To answer your question... yes, very much so."

"What?"

"You asked if it was too late to go home. It is."

"But Roddy didn't even look at me! I'm sure he wouldn't notice my absence."

"Oh, he would. Believe me. You think he hasn't seen you, but he has. And if you don't come inside, he will come to get you himself."

You groan, brushing your hand over your face in frustration.

Puffy squeezes your arm and musters a smile to reassure you, "as I said before, just stay close and you'll be fine."

You look at him, sighing loudly and then nod.

"Alright. But don't get mad if I follow you everywhere, even to the fucking crapper."

Puffy lets out a chuckle and shakes his head, "I promise I won't get mad."

You nod, feeling slightly better.

Puffy silently gazes at your face, a faint smile printed upon his lips. "Do you want me to hold your hand?"

You flinch, taken aback by his sudden offer. "What- no, no I'll be fine -uhh thanks."

Puffy struggles to hide his grin, "Alright, alright. Let's go then." He enters first and you follow him.

A strong smell of weed and alcohol instantly fills your nostrils and it makes you want to puke. A bunch of noisy semi-nude people walk by you, wobbling on their feet as they make their way to the staircase, probably heading to the bedrooms. You eye warily the room they've come out from, reflexively getting closer to Puffy as you notice the mess inside. He stifles a laugh, turning toward you.

"You ok?"

"What's happening in there?" you feebly ask, still staring at the room. "Loud music, alcohol, weed and most certainly nudity." Your eyes widen and you look at Puffy, who's smiling at you.

"I'm joking. They've probably already finished the alcohol", he grins at your scowl. "C'mon" he says, motioning with his head toward the room.

"Wait!" you quietly scream, grabbing his arm. He turns toward you once again.

"Uhm, can I take you on that offer now?", you awkwardly ask, barely looking him in the eye, "I'd probably get lost among all that people."

A grin creeps on his face and his hand instantly finds yours, squeezing it gently. You feebly smile back, embarrassed but somehow already feeling safer.

Eventually, you make your entrance into the room. Blue and green lights blind you. Dozens of people dance frenetically to the loud music blasting from the stereos, while others lay on the sofas spread all over the room, smoking and making out, touching and undressing each other.

You cautiously scan the room as Puffy leads you further into it. You see Jim drinking in front of some sort of self-made bar. You can also make out Billy bivouac on a sofa, chatting with some of the FNM crew members and Roddy dancing with a guy a few feets away. As you keep on looking around, you meet Mike’s eyes from the other side of the room. Your heart skips a beat. He’s staring at you, a serious expression hovering over his face. He looks angry, but you’re too far to say for certain. You barely hold his gaze for a few seconds before you’re forced to look away.

You feel Puffy tugging at your hand and you look up at him. He’s talking to you, you can see his lips moving, but the music is too loud for you to hear his voice. He seems to notice your confusion and suddenly gets dangerously close to your face. You can feel his warm breath on your skin as his voice fills your ear.

“You want a drink? Something to eat? Just sit somewhere? Maybe dance?” He retreats to look at you, his eyes questioning but his smile is warm and inviting.

“Uhm…”, you take another brief look around, considering all the options he has just mentioned, then look back at him, smiling a bit. It’s your time to get closer to him and mumble into his ear, “I’d like to dance... but I think I need a drink first, to let go.”

You warmly smile back at him and he nods firmly, gently squeezing your hand. He leads you toward the bar, dodging people on the way, and you take the chance to throw one last look back to where Mike was. Your eyes frantically roam the whole area as soon as you notice the empty seat. Where is he? Where did he go? But most importantly, why should that be of your concern?

Before you can mentally scold yourself, Puffy tugs at your hand once again, two cans of beer in his other hand. He passes you one just as Jim notices you. He gets closer to friendly pat Puffy on the back and wink at you.

“You doing okay?” he asks, slightly bending toward you.

You nod, showing him a small smile. “I can finally relax a bit with one of these, at least.” you nod at the can of beer, holding it up.

Jim smiles and nods, raising his can to clink it against yours. Puffy shouts “cheers!” as he joins the two of you. You chuckle a bit, shaking your head as you open the can and take a long gulp down your throat. The liquid is so refreshing, it seems to soothe your flushed body in one instant.

The music abruptly fades and Roddy’s voice comes blasting from the stereos.

“Ho, guyyyyys! Thank you all for coming! What do you say if we finally let this party started??”

The crowd cheers in response and you cup your ears, literally fearing for their safety.

“Wooo! Then let’s blast some great fucking music and get wreeeeecked!” And as he screams that, the initial notes of “Out Of Nowhere” fill the room, making every person present jump and shout in excitement. They get so rowdy that you can now barely hold the can in your hand without spilling the beer all over your clothes and on the floor with all that bumping and yanking from the people all around you. As hard as you try not to be knocked over by some drunken dude, eventually, someone nudges you so harshly on the back that you feel yourself losing balance and falling forward, right into Puffy's arms. He promptly catches you, hands grabbing your forearms, his chest cushioning the collision between your bodies. You look up at him. Your faces suddenly so close. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Are you ok?” he asks concerned, leaning back a little to give you a better look.

You swallow hard and bite your bottom lip as you lightly nod your head in response.

The corners of his mouth curl up in a gentle smile as he stares at you, his eyes twinkle slightly. “Come with me”, he says, taking back your hand in his and guiding you through the crowd, carefully avoiding to walk close the rowdiest dudes. You follow him without a word, relieved to take a break from that chaos.

When you finally get out of that awful room, it’s like you can breathe again. Puffy however continues to lead you away from that area and approaches the stairs, your hand still held tight in his.

“Where are we going?”

He turns to look at you, a barely visible blush flushes his cheeks, “I thought we could go somewhere more private…”

You stop in your tracks, eyes widening a bit, “Private? Uhm, to… to do what exactly?”

He smiles feebly, shaking his head a little. “Just talk, Y/N. I’ve been meaning to ask you about that project of yours. You’re working on that novel?”

"Oh… y-you, you remembered", you stutter a bit, eyes widening in surprise.

Puffy chuckles, shrugging slightly, "of course! I was present when you mentioned it months ago. How is it going?"

You can't hold back a smile, heartened by his words. He smiles back at you and before you can open your mouth to reply, he climbs a step, motioning you to follow. "Shall we?"

You eagerly nod and follow him upstairs.

He leads you to a quite big bedroom with a queen-size bed and red neon LEDs on the walls. Puffy immediately drops himself on the bed with a contented sigh while you cautiously step over the scattered clothes and who knows what else until you reach him and sit at his side.

You take another look around, noticing the massive amount of posters on the walls showing all kinds of women with little to no clothes on. “Boys” you mumble in a whisper, shaking your head. Who knows what they have been using this room for. As if reading your mind, Puffy lets out a chuckle and prompts himself up by his elbows. “It’s just the guest room.”

“Oh, very hospitable indeed.” you scoff, moving your eyes on Puffy, making a face.

He smiles warmly at you, shrugging innocently. “It’s been used by men, mostly. Sometimes I use it too... but I guess Mike is the one who uses it the most when he’s here. I bet he hung some of these posters himself. ”

Mike’s mention instantly makes your body flush and cheeks redden. The idea of him getting into this bed and pleasuring himself while staring at the posters on the wall pops into your mind at once. “Ha, now I get it.” you scoff again as you try to mask your embarrassment.

“Not that we others do not enjoy the decorations.”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

He laughs, holding up his hands, “okay, okay. Let’s change the subject.” He sits up straight next to you, his shoulder touching yours. “So, how’s going with your book?”

You shrug a little, lowering your eyes on the floor, “not that good, honestly. I had a writer block these last months and I still have it. I’ve been able to write just a bunch of pages and I also kinda hate what I wrote, so…” you look back at him, smiling a little. “I’m a horrible writer.”

“Oh, c’mon. You know that’s not true!”

“Actually, no. I’m kinda serious. I’m having so many doubts. I’m not sure if this is the right path for me…”

“Y/N, I’m sure this is your insecurity talking. I know there’s something special in you, I can see it. W-We can all see it.”

“Oh shut up-”

“No, no hear me out!”

You eye him in astonishment; you’ve never seen him so worked up before.

He sighs, breaking eye contact only for a second. “I had my fair share of doubts years back, too. Before I decided to get into this band and live as a musician I was a shy boy, full of insecurities but also full of hope. I sure had my ups and downs, especially when my hope flickered, and I still have them from time to time, but one thing never faltered. My passion. My passion for music is what made me understand this was the right path for me.” He slightly bends towards you, getting a few inches closer. “You have the same passion for writing, don’t you?”

You quietly look at him taken aback by his serious demeanor. “I… I do.”

His lips curl up in a sweet smile. His hand moves on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just don’t give up. I noticed that sparkle in your eyes when you talk about your stories, I know it to be sincere. Keep writing and take breaks when you feel too overwhelmed. You must enjoy what you do, never feel it to be a burden. Allow yourself to make mistakes, to write something that is not perfect at first. I know you can do it, Y/N. I believe in you. You just have to learn to believe in yourself.” You gawk at him in disbelief, unsure what to say or what to do. He lets out a nervous giggle, running a hand through his hair, eyes moving away from your face. “Just think about it, huh?”

He clears his throat, looking back at you only for a moment before he stands up, “We uhm forgot to take some drinks with us. I’ll go get a bunch of bottles. Back in a few.” He awkwardly steps out of the room, closing the door behind his back.

You blink a few times, staring at the closed door in front of you. What has just happened? He has never talked to you like that, never been so open before. You have known Puffy for a couple of years, only. One mutual friend introduced you to him and the rest of the band. A bunch of gigs and nights out later, you’ve easily gotten into their close circle of friends and hung out with the guys quite a lot since then, especially with Billy and Puffy. Puffy, however, has always been the one to suddenly get silent while alone in your presence and you’ve always wondered why. At first, you thought he was just not that interested in talking to you and getting to know you better but then he began to be quite chatty around you all of a sudden, completely throwing you off. And now, hearing him talk to you like that; you're more confused than ever. It really sounded like he cared... like he cared a lot.

You groan, moving your hands on your face as you flop down on the mattress. *Please mind, do not get crazy ideas. He cares for me as a friend. That’s it. Having a crush on Mike is already enough. Seeing Puffy that way would only complicate things. It would be too much for me to handle. And what if the others find out? Oh God, no. No, no, no, no. *

A flicker of light passes through the room and the music gets louder for a moment, but you’re so engrossed in your thoughts that you don’t notice. It’s only at the metallic sound of the door being locked that your ears perk up and you instantly prompt yourself up by your elbows. Your body stiffens and your heart misses a bit when your eyes lock with Mike’s. He’s staring at you, a grin on his face.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Geez Y/N, I can hear you shaking from here. Chill out.”

You swallow, gulping down a bit of your panic. Your voice now sounds more stable than before, but only barely. “I asked what the fuck are you doing here.”

“Mhh yeah, that’s more like it.” he chuckles. “Aren’t you happy to see me? We’ve barely seen each other tonight.”

“Mike. Tell me why the heck you’re here. Where’s Puffy? Why did you lock the door?”

“I thought I’d receive a more pleasing welcome. This is not nice, Y/N.” “What’s not nice is you locking the fucking door!”

His insolence is starting to get you all worked up. Why does he have to be such an asshole?

“Well, I have the key, which means this room is mine.” He takes a few steps forward, twirling the ring of the keys around his finger. “And I wanted to make myself veeery comfortable on this bed.”

You immediately read his intentions on his face and slide off the bed right before he jumps on it and drops vehemently on the mattress, face down.

He chuckles again, looking at you as you get up from the floor, cursing at him. “You’re funny, Y/N.”

“You’re not, not at all!”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that. I’m just playing with you.”

“Well, I don’t like this game, Mike. Just give me the key.”

He rolls over, laying on his back and stares right at you. The grin on his face is taken over by something you don’t quite understand but that sends a chill down your back.

“Mike, please. I want to get out of this room.”

“Oh but why? Don’t you want to have some fun?”

Another chill runs down your back at that word. What kind of fun is he referring to? What does he have in mind? You feel your body heat up but you can’t let go. He cannot win.

“Please. Mike. Just let me go. Please.”

His grin quivers and his eyes soften a bit. “Ugh. Why do you have to be so cute and shit?”, he groans, rolling his eyes, “You want out? Take these, I don’t fucking care.” He drops the keys on the mattress and then folds his arms on his chest, setting his gaze on the wall in front of him.

You cautiously glance at the keys then back at him. Is he really letting you go so easily? Or is this part of the game? Part of the fun he mentioned? Do you really want to find out? But what’s the alternative? Would you rather stay in this room with Mike and let him do whatever he’s planned to? And what is it that he has planned out? He’s giving you such weird vibes.

He looks back at you, brows quirking, “So? Have you changed your mind? Should I take these back?” His hand hovers above the keys.

“No!”, you take a step forward, holding up your hands, “wait.”

“Do you want to go or not?” he asks again, raising his voice.

You take a quick glance at the door then look back at him. He’s pretty much creeping you out but at the same time, you cannot shake the feeling growing in your lower belly due to the way he looks at you. You gulp again. The grin he’s barely capable of hiding now makes you find the resolution to say, loud and clear: “I’ll go.”

You move forward closing the distance one cautious step at a time, as you eye Mike suspiciously. You still doubt he's going to let you go so easily but you have to deal with him and his brat behaviour if you want to get the fuck out of that room.

Your hand moves to hover above the keys and you release a breath you didn't know you were holding when the cold material slides through your fingers, hand squeezing into a fist.

Before you have time to step back, Mike's fingers clutch around your wrist, pulling your hand down so hard that you almost fall on him. Eyes flashing towards his face, you glare at him. "I need something in return, Y/N."

You groan out of frustration, yanking back your hand to release it from his grip, but to no avail.

"Mike, you're exhausting."

He grins at you, hand squeezing tighter around your wrist. "C'mon. There must be something you can give me. I'm letting you choose."

"Does a punch count? 'Cause I would gladly punch you in the face right now."

He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Now, now. That's not true. Unless you'd punch me with your lips. Then I'd allow it."

Your eyes widen, a chill runs down your back. You feel your cheeks flush and your heartbeat quicken. Why does he have to be like that! Ugh. He's unbelievable!

You try your hardest to keep your cool as you mutter: "In your dreams, Mike."

His low chuckle fills your ears again. The things his voice do to you.

"Funny", he says, "it's funny how you try to convince yourself you don't want this when you clearly do."

"You know nothing. Now let me go."

"You don't have to pretend around me, you know?"

"Pretend what?" you snap at him.

His game is clearly working. You're reacting exactly how he wants you to. "Actually," you take a deep breath before continuing, "don't tell me. I don't care. Just let me go."

He tsks at you, sitting up on the mattress, his fingers still clutched around your wrist. "Pretending that you don't like me, while you clearly do. C'mon Y/N. Just say it. It's not that hard, you know?"

Mike crawls closer to you, eyes piercing into yours as he does. He brings your hand to his lips and stares at you from under his eyelashes as he plasters a sloppy kiss on your knuckles. A breath catches in your throat, your whole body stiffens. A curse flies through your gritted teeth and he smirks triumphantly at you, his curved up lips planting one kiss after another along your arm until he's close enough to your face you can feel his cool breath on your lips.

"Say it. I want to hear it from your precious lips."

Your heart is in your throat. Speaking is not an available option at the moment. Your ragged breathing makes your whole body tremble.

"You got tongue-tied? Oh, Y/N.", a chuckle escapes his lips, "You're painfully adorable."

In one swift move, he closes the distance between you two and smashes his lips on yours. He takes advantage of your stunned state and pushes his tongue inside your open mouth, eagerly exploring it. You're frozen. You're completely subjected to his control, you can't seem to be able to do much about that, like your body doesn't want to react to it. Do you really want this? Your whole body seems to be positive about it. Your lips soon start to respond to the kiss. His eagerness seems to get stronger by the second. His hand tugs at your wrist, pulling you down towards him and making your chest brush against his. His other hand moves on your hip, fingertips grazing over the exposed skin between your t-shirt and the hem of your pants.

You gasp into the kiss, the touch making your body shiver. You're just this close to let go and fall on him.

A loud yank at the door makes you both jump.

"Y/N? Are you there? Why's the door locked? Hey?"

Puffy's voice seems to wake you from the daze Mike's produced and you instinctively open your mouth with the intention of blurting out a reply. However, Mike's hand comes to rest on your lips before you can even start talking. Your puzzled look meets his hard stare. He shakes his head.

"What do you want? One can't even get laid in peace in this damned world!" His words and loud tone make you roll your eyes.

"Oh it's you. Sorry man! Was Y/N inside when you came in there?"

"Y/N?" Mike flashes you a smirk, at which you scoff, "Why would she be here? Nah, man. It's just me and this beautiful girl in here." His eyes seem to twinkle at you and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Did he mean that? Or did he just blurt out the first thing that popped in his mind? You can't help but wonder. "I bet your little crush has fled from this house at the first chance she got!"

Crush? Your brows furrows at the word and you instantly poke Mike hard in the chest, making him chuckle. You cast a glance at the door. You can almost picture the lost expression Puffy must have on his face. You feel bad for him. Your eyes move back on Mike's face and you glare at him. He shrugs at you, clearly having fun at messing around as per usual.

"Oh... alright. Thanks Mike." You hear Puffy step back and walk away.

Mike finally uncovers your mouth, hand releasing your wrist as well.

"Why did you have to do that?" you snap at him, clearly worked up. He slumps back on the bed, laying down, arms moving to rest under his head. He lazily glances at you as he shruggs.

"Do what?"

"Mess with him!"

"I didn't mess with him. I did him a favor."

Your brows furrows, you stare at him in confusion.

Mike sighs, rolling his eyes. "Do you think he would have liked to know you were here with me? You're oblivious, Y/N. He's clearly into you."

You gape at him. Should you believe Mike? He's not exactly the most reliable person. "That's not true."

"Oh, it is true. It's quite evident. Just like your crush on me." He grins at you, eyes roaming over your body. The kiss you just shared suddenly comes back to your mind and you redden under his amused look.

"Guess the princess must make a choice. Who will she choose? No one knows."

His mocking tone makes you groan in frustration. He retrieves the keys from the mattress, where they fell from your palm and jumps down from the bed. Your eyes glare holes in the back of his head as they follow him walk straight to the door. He unlocks it and turns his head to grin at you over his shoulder. "Or maybe I do."

The door shuts close behind him and you flop on the bed, letting out a deep sigh.

"What has just happened?", you mutter under your breath, brushing your hand over your face.

"I shouldn't have come here."

You close your eyes and try to focus on the music coming from the floor below. You can't recognize the melody. A groan escapes your mouth. If what Mike has just said is true then you really have to make a choice. It's not just a choice between one person or another. You have to decide what's best for both the band and yourself. Whether Puffy or Mike are truly into you, you have to figure out what you feel and make up your mind.

#mike paton #mike patton x reader #mike patton x you #mike patton x y/n #mike patton fic #mike patton fanfiction #mike puffy bordin #mike bordin #jim martin #roddy bottum #bill gould #faith no more #fnm #faith no more fic #faith no more fanfiction #my writing

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