Irresistible (Peterick/side Trohley)

9 (Bonus Scene: Pete's POV)

Word Count--1030

"I can't believe I'm going to do this," I say to Andy, who's already rolling his eyes.

"It's not going to be that bad, you idiot. I wasn't like this when I proposed to Joe," Andy says, smacking the side of my head. "That's a good one. It's amazing. Look, you can even engrave something on it," He points at a silver one with a cool design that has a smooth spot for something to be written on it.

"I don't know," I say, moving closer to it. Would he like it? Money's no problem, because I guess my dead mother was good for something besides leaving me with an abusive father for over ten years.

"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third, I will beat your ass. You're not backing out of this. So you're going to march right up to that cashier, tell him what you want engraved, and buy that ring for Patrick. Then, when it's exactly a year from the day you met him, you're going to propose, okay?" Andy commands, pointing at the Indian guy across the store that's helping another customer.

I take a deep breath, letting it out. I can do this. "Okay," Andy's eyes go wide, almost like he wasn't expecting me to go along with this that easily.

He quickly grabs my arm and drags me across the store to the Indian guy. He smiles at us. "What can I help you gentlemen with?" He looks from Andy to me, raising his eyebrows.

"This goofball needs an engagement ring for his boyfriend," Andy says, pointing at me. The guy nods his head.

"You've one picked out, I assume?" He asks us. I nod as he follows us over to it, key in hand. When I point at it, he says, "Nice choice," and then hands takes it back to his register. "Would you like something engraved?" He asks me.

"I'd like to get something very special engraved on it," I tell him. "I want it to say.."

--

"Good fucking job, Mr. I Can't Keep a Secret to Save My Damn Life," I say, hitting Andy on the back of his head. "I got thirsty," I say in my dumbass (more commonly known as my Andy) voice.

"Fuck you," He says, hitting me back. We stand in the break room, exchanging hits until Patrick walks up to us with his coffee in his hand.

"You know what? I don't even wanna know," He says. "I'm not feeling well, babe. I'm going to head home," He leans in and pecks my cheek before waving at Andy and making his way out of the door.

"Hope he's okay," Andy says, watching him leave. He looks paler than usual, a greenish colour to his face. I nod. I need my baby to be alright.

"Peter," Captain Armstrong says, tapping my back, "I'd like you to go home," My eyebrows furrow when he says that.

"Why?" I ask, clearly confused. I've never, in my whole career, been asked to leave work early. What the fuck did I do this time?

"Go check on our favourite boy for me, please," He commands, and I know it isn't a question. I nod, telling Andy and Joe (who's just walked up) goodbye before disappearing to my office and grabbing my satchel.

By the time I reach Patrick and I's shared apartment, I find him leaned over the toliet, puking up the coffee he had earlier.

"Oh shit, babe," I stand behind him and take his hat off, running my left hand through his hair, while the other rubs circles in his back. "Are you okay, sweetie?" I ask when he finishes.

He immediately shakes his head before flipping his head back so his hair will lie down. Even like this he's gorgeous. I just don't understand.

He moves to the sink and brushes his teeth, while I continue to run circles into his back. "You don't have to do this, you know," He coughs out. I feel his forehead, making a 'tsk' sound when I feel how hot he is.

"Patrick, off," I say, pointing to his shirt. He rolls his eyes, refusing to lift his arms. "Dammit, Patrick, let me take care of you," I say softly. He smiles weakly at me before finally lifting his arms. I pull his shirt off and pull him to the bedroom. "Lie down," I command. He doesn't disobey. He rolls straight into the bed without another word.

"P," He reaches out for me. I put a wet washcloth across his forehead before climbing into bed with him. His arms go around my waist as my shirtless back is placed against his shirtless front. I shiver at the warmth that's radiating off of his body.

Somewhere along the way, I turn to where I'm facing him. "I love you," I know he can't hear me. He's fast asleep, and I'm glad. He deserves it. "I hate that you're sick, but I love taking care of you," I whisper, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"I wanna marry you. I'm going to, if you'll let me. Maybe after I meet your mom, brother, and sister. I'd like to get Kevin's permission to marry you, since your dad isn't here," I say, stroking his face. He doesn't stir.

"I'm so glad you're a blushing mess. I wouldn't want you any other way. You're adorable and amazing, and I love everything about you," I continue to stroke his cheek with one hand, while my other is thrown loosely across his body.

"I love you. I'm in love with you. Before you, I thought of Dallon and Ashlee and how every relationship I have turns to fucking shit. But then there's you. You, Patrick Martin Vaughn Stump, are my rock, and I couldn't live without you. Remember that," I smile at the sleeping, snoring mess in front of my before closing my eyes.

Sleep comes easily for the first time in a long while. Maybe because I have someone I care for and love so deeply beside me. Because I have Patrick Stump beside me, and I wouldn't want him to be anyone else.