This May Take Some Time and Effort. [Fall Out Boy/Patrick Stump fanfiction]

Chapter Twenty-Nine: You and Me are Golden

"Patrick?" I call, walking into the house, "I'm back from the store!"
I set the groceries down in the kitchen, and since I didn't buy any cold stuff, I have time to look for my boyfriend.

"Patrick? Where are you?" I yell, practically jogging through the apartment, Blue haplily tagging along. He's nowhere to be found.

Alright, now the anxiety's setting in.

I finally decide to check the bedroom, and sigh in relief when I find him there, completely curled up under the covers like a kid.

"'Trick?" I ask softly, and I hear a sniffle. Oh, no.

I gently crawl into bed, lifting the covers and pushing his hair out of his eyes. His eyes and cheeks are red and puffy, but no tears have fallen yet.

"Oh, baby, what's the matter?" I ask, scooting down, under the covers, and wrapping myself around him.

"Nothing," he sighs, and I look up at him, frowning.

"We both know that's not true. I've used that excuse way too many times. Now, what's up?"

"I don't feel well," he pouts like a little kid who dropped his ice cream, and I laugh a little.

"You need some Tylenol or Benadril or something? Where does it hurt?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"No. I'm not sick."

"Then what-ooh," I say quietly, realizing what he's saying. "C'mon, Angel, you can tell me."

"That one's new," he says, smiling sadly, and I smile, laughing, trying to cheer him up.

"I just-I don't know. I'm being stupid."

"You are not," I say, and he sighs, tucking his head into my neck and running his hands down my sides to my hips, making me shiver.

"I'm scared I'm going to lose you," he confesses, and I look at him, confused. "Oh, come on! I'm ugly, fat, I'm not hot, I'm not talented at all, and I honestly don't know how you're still with me."

"Oh, 'Trick," I say quietly, running my fingers through his hair and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "What brought this on?"

"I'm getting fat again," he says simply, and I frown.

"No, you're not. I love your tummy. It's one of the cutest things about you, besides your face and ass," I smile, patting his butt jokingly.

"It's gross," he counters, and I sigh, closing my eyes.

"You want to know something?" I ask.

"Shoot," he says sadly.

"When I was thirteen, I started starving myself, because I thought I was too fat. I was thirteen.At age fourteen, I started cutting. I quit for four years, until I was eighteen, but then I started again. That was also the year I attempted suicide. Twice."

"Baby, no..." he mutters, pulling his head out of my neck, and placing his palm on my cheek. I see a tear streak on his face, and my heart shatters.

"See? That's my point. That's exactly how I feel right now. I'm scared-I'm scared that you'll do what I did. I can't live without you."

"I..."

"Just hear me out here, ok?" I start, eyes watering, and he nods. "You have millions of people falling all over you. Pretty much all of them love that tummy you hate, including me. What you have to realize is: even if you had the perfect body, every feature you ever wanted-you'd still find something to hate. It's human nature to hate ourselves-it's how we advance as a species, how we improve. But I think it's time for a change. So, we can either sit here, hating ourselves, or love ourselves, and be happy. And the only thing I want in this world is for you to be happy."

"I'm trying to, Cor, I really am, I just...can't make myself believe it."

"Then I will. C'mon, get up."

"Why?" He asks as I throw the covers off of us.

"We're going shopping," I say simply, and he sighs, but gets up anyway.

----------------
//PATRICK STUMP//

"Baby, I don't think-"

I'm cut off by her lips pressing to mine. "Patrick, I'm a pro at making people feel better about themselves, and clothes always do the trick."

"I'm trusting you here," I say, giving her a pointed look, and she smiles, rolling her eyes.

"Come on. First stop: American Eagle."

We end up going to almost every store with a men's section, and she's about to pull me into Banana Republic before I stop her, smiling.

"Babe, we've already gotten so much stuff for me, don't you want anything?" I protest, and she shrugs.

"I mean, I do need to stop by Pink, so...I guess," she shrugs, and heat rushes to my cheeks.

"P-pink? Isn't that like, uh-"

"That's not all they have, 'Trick," she smiles, laughing softly. "Come on. I promise it won't be awkward."

"Al-alright."

-----

I don't belong here.

There's so much pink (duh), and the AC seems to be malfunctioning or something, I swear. There's boobs and butts everywhere, and I feel like I'm being stared at. I squeeze my girlfriend's hand tightly as she flips through a rack of shirts, looking for her size, a pair of knee-length leggings already folded over her arm.

"You okay?" she laughs, looking back at me as she pulls the shirt down.

"Uh, yeah," I reply, cracking a small smile. She pulls me along stopping every now and then to look at whatever she deems cute. A few pairs of underwear and matching bras later, we're finally out of there.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she smiles, laughing a bit as we walk out of the store, which, thankfully, is almost directly under the food court. I'm starving.

"I mean...no, I guess not," I shrug, smiling softly.

"So, do you feel better?" she asks, and I nod, which makes her beam. "Good. What do you want to eat?" God, it's like she can read my mind, I swear.

"Um...you know what? I'm dying for some of your waffles and bacon. With chocolate chips," I say, adding the last part quickly.

"Alright," she laughs, and an idea hits me.

"Wait. We need to go somewhere," I say, practically dragging her  to the escalator.

"Where are we going?" she laughs, and I grin, stopping right in front of the colorful store.

"Build-a-Bear Workshop? Aw, that's cute," she smiles, pecking my cheek as we walk in.

She ends up with a Kylo Ren bear, complete with a lightsaber and everything. When we get home, we put the things we bought away, and we may or may not have made out for a while.

Whoops.

A/N

I'm not crying you're crying