I Don't Care (Peterick/side Trohley)

3

(long story short, patrick stump is fucking hot, and this is what he wears on the 'date' and even tho this is short idc i'm happy w this chapter soooo yeah and wow just his lower half is so ;))

Sugar, We're Goin Down.
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t h r e e

"Patrick, I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Dress nice, and don't wear a hat please," I say as he gets out of my car. He simply nods, and I wonder if he'll be okay. No doubt he's blaming himself for the loss, but it really isn't his fault.

He sat down long enough and blocked everyone out to miss the actual fact that he was named MVP. Joe accepted it for him.

I know he thinks I'm an asshole, but I really need to fix that. I'm not the player that everyone thinks I am. I do it because I can't get anyone to stay with me.

It's true. The longest relationship I've had was with a girl named Ashlee. We dated for seven months, fucked, and then she dumped me. I lost all of my confidence. Then came Meagan. She tried to fix me, but that was my fault. I wasn't into her, and as much as I wanted to be, I couldn't. I was still in love with Ashlee.

Now there's Patrick. He is perfect. And he's good for me. He wouldn't do what Ashlee did to me, I know it. Sure, he's also known to be a player, but he wouldn't do that, would he?

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on my window. I see a grinning Patrick through it, and I roll my window down immediately.

"So what? You're going to wait in my driveway until tomorrow?" He says smugly, and I look around, realising that I, in fact, am still in his driveway.

"Sorry, 'Rick," I mumble and start my car. He smiles, leaning in and placing a kiss to my cheek before stepping back. I pull out of his driveway with my cheeks bright red. Did that just happen?

If Patrick can do that to me with just a kiss on my cheek, then I'm in for a rude awakening. Patrick Stump and I might be like fire and gasoline, but boy, do we work?

--

"Holy shit," I mumble when Patrick opens his door. He's dressed in a fucking purple suit without a hat on, and he's so fucking gorgeous.

"Is this alright?" He asks worriedly, looking at my button up with a blazer and another pair of Andy's skinny jeans that aren't ripped at the knee. I nod furiously.

"Patrick, you look gorgeous," He blushes before hitting my arm and brushing past me. He's in my car before I can say another word, and I quickly jog and get in the driver's seat.

"So if I'm begging you to fuck me by the end of the night.. are you going to do it?" Patrick asks when I pull out of his driveway. I almost choke.

"W-What?" I ask once I've regained my confidence. He smirks at me.

"If I want you to fuck me, are you going to?" He repeats, and nope, I didn't hear wrong the first time.

"Uh, umm," I don't know how to answer that question. Patrick just laughs.

"I'm kidding, Wentz," He smiles, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Are we really going to see your band play?" He asks, running a hand through his hair. Damn, he needs to not wear a hat more often.

"Yeah," I say, focusing my eyes back on the road, "we are. Andy's going to be there, and I think Joe's going to play with us tonight. Our guitarist has the stomach virus,"

"My Joe?" His head snaps towards me.

"If you mean Trohman, then yeah, your Joe," I confirm, and he looks confused for a while. "We needed a guitarist, Andy said Joe tried to use the 'I-play-guitar' line on him, and we called Joe to see if he'd play. He said yes," Patrick smiles, shaking his head.