Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Imagines

[PETE/PATRICK] That Not-So-Cliché Imagine Where Both Of Them Like You 5

That night, you stay awake restlessly, your mind preoccupied with worrying about Pete and thinking about what Patrick said to you. You're sitting in yours and Pete's bed, your knees pulled into your chest, your chin resting on your kneecaps, and your laptop out in front of you, Netflix pulled up with your favorite show. You have it on as a distraction, however, it does nothing but add to the background noise.

Just as you let your eyelids fall, the heaviness becoming too much for you to fight, the door to your bedroom is pushed inward. You force yourself to open your eyes and see Pete's face hiding in the shadows of the hallway. "Pete," You breathe gratefully, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and rushing up to him. You jump at him and hug him tightly. "Pete, I'm so glad you're back."

"Thanks, but I'm not here to stay," He tells you, his voice muffled by your shirt. You raise your eyebrow and step away from him, not understanding what he was saying. He slips his hands into his pockets and tilts his head down. "Yeah, um...I think it's time for me to move out."

"You think it's time for you to move out?" You repeat, confused beyond belief, "What about your friends? What about me?"

"My friends are a bunch of backstabbing liars and I was hoping you'd come with me," He answers your questions in one concise sentence, "Don't you think it's getting a little weird, living your boyfriend and all of his friends? I mean, we never get a minute alone."

"But, Pete, I don't want to move," You mutter, "I like it here."

"Well I don't, and I'm not going to stay here another night. So you can either come with me or stay here. It's completely up to you." And with that, he brushes past you - bumping his shoulder into yours - and walks over to the dresser. He tears open one of the drawers and starts extracting his clothes, tossing them carelessly behind him.

You shake your head and spin around. "Pete, you're being ridiculous."

"I'M NOT BEING RIDICULOUS!" He screams, slamming the dresser drawer shut and turning to face you. "I just don't want to lose you like I lost Ashlee." His face flushes of all color after those words slip past his lips. He hangs his head and heaves a shaky sigh. "The same fucking thing happened with Ashlee and I don't want it to happen again."

"What are you even talking about?"

Your boyfriend pushes his fingers through his hair. "I know you think you're, like, the only girl I've ever loved, (Y/N), but you're not. I loved Ashlee before I loved you, and I mean really loved her. But you know what happened? And do you know why we met each other at that bus stop that day? Because my fucking best friend Patrick stole my fucking girlfriend from me. She was just like you. She lived with us, did stuff for us, everything. But then one day, which was kind of ironically the day I was going to propose to her, I walked in on them sleeping together. Do you know how much that fucking sucked? Seeing the girl I was going to ask to marry me lying in bed with the guy I imagined being my best man?"

You chuckle sadly, failing to hide how upset Pete was making you. "It fucking sucked a lot?"

"It fucking sucked a lot," He repeated, pointing his finger at you, "That's why I was at the bus stop that day, because I wanted to get away from it all. The embarrassment, the pain, everything. And I am so glad that I met you." His tone of voice changed drastically, the anger and resentment disappearing. He steps towards you and brings a hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. "Because you saved me from doing something I would've regret doing, and I can never thank you enough for that. And I really thought you were different, but you turned out to be just like her." He adopts the bitter tone of voice again and drops his hand to his side. "I thought history wasn't going to repeat itself, but it did and it's left me with no other choice. I've got to go, (Y/N), I'm not going to stay here."

"Why?"

"BECAUSE!" He yells, "For fuck's sake, did you just ignore everything I just told you? My best friend betrayed me;  not once, but twice. How do you expect to stay here when he wants to steal you from me?"

"He doesn't want to steal me from you! He just likes me, which is a nice change since all this time I thought he hated me!"

Outside the bedroom door are your roommates, dressed in their pajamas with bags under their eyes. They all have their arms crossed over their chest, listening to each and every word of yours and Pete's argument. The only difference among the three of them is the expressions on their faces. Joe and Andy share the same annoyed expression, glaring at Patrick who shows a shameful look. He, as well as everyone else, knows it's his fault they're awake, it's his fault you and Pete are fighting, and it's his fault their friend is moving out.

"You know what, (Y/N)?" Pete shouts, "We're done talking about this. Are you with me or are you not?"

"I'm not leaving, Pete!"

"So you're staying."

"And so are you," You tell him sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Who says?"

"Me." You snatch his clothes up from the floor where they lie and yank the dresser drawer open, dropping them in there.  You close the drawer with your hip and look back at Pete, fuming. "You're not leaving, Pete, not over some stupid crush."

Patrick's cheeks grow a deep shade of red that isn't noticeable in the dark apartment, along with the tears forming in his eyes.

"Watch me," Pete growls, going for the door when you jump forward and grab him by the hand, desperate to keep him there. "Get your hands off of me!" He screams, immediately ripping his hand out of your grasps, and in the process, slapping you. Silence instantaneously falls over the entire apartment, the two of you looking at each other with wide eyes. You feel as though time has stopped, only to be put back in motion when Pete shakes his head and tears the bedroom door open, storming out for the second time that.

Almost as soon as Pete leaves the room, the three other band members flood in. Andy and Joe promptly check to see that you're okay, asking if Pete hurt you and looking for any cuts or bruises. As for Patrick, he keeps his distance, staring at you nervously.

You meet his gaze and frown, tears beginning to blur your vision. "Why couldn't you just hate me?" You croak.

To be continued...