Patrick Stump Imagines

He gets sick

A/N: So, here's the first imagine. I usually write my stories with other people, to be sure that there are no mistakes but I'll write those imagines alone. So, if there's any mistake, tell me! Also, the picture at the beginning of the chapter is like, the Patrick of the imagine, so think about the Patrick of the picture when you read the chapter.

Patrick, the guys and their managers were all sat at a table in a restaurant, they were there to talk business for their next tour.

"Okay." Patrick said as he stood up, "I'm gonna go now, it's getting late, I don't want Y/N to get worried."
"Come on, stay a little longer." Pete begged.
"No no. I have to go. And, to be honest...I'm not feeling that well." He said as he took his jacket that was on his chair.
"Okay, then...bye man." Pete said.
"Bye!" Patrick said as he exited the restaurant.

Patrick got into his car and started the engine. He looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror and heaved a sigh. He unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before leaving the parking lot.
During the ride to his house, Patrick kept feeling worse, at first he just had a stomach ache but now felt nauseous.

He parked in front of his place and got out of the car then entered the house slowly, making sure to not wake you up. He took off his shoes and hung his jacket and hat on the coat hanger in the hall. Patrick made his way upstairs and into your bedroom. You were sleeping in the bed you and Patrick shared. He took off his pants then sat on the bed.

You opened your eyes slowly as he was taking off his shirt, "Hey." You whispered.
"Hey." He whispered back as he turned to face you.
"How was dinner?" You asked, this time more loudly.
"It was nice." He said as he laid down on his back.
You place a hand on his chest and leaned closer to him, you were about to kiss him but he blocked you with his hand, "Nope." He said as he stood up quickly and ran to the bathroom (which is in your bedroom.). You turned on the light on your side's nightstand and ran to the bathroom.

Patrick was kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting. He looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath, "Oh, f***ing shrimps."
You sat next to him and put a hand on his back, "You're okay now?"
He looked at you, opened his mouth to talk but put his face back into the toilet to throw up again. You rubbed his bare back gently and waited for him to be done. He looked back at you. He was shaking slightly and his body and face were covered in sweat.
You took a towel from the cupboard under the sink and gave it to him, "Take this."
He took it into his possession and wiped his face with it.
"You want to throw up again?" You asked.
"No, I think I'm good for now."
You stood up, "Let's go to bed then." You helped him stand up and you two walked into your bedroom.

He laid down on the bed and you took a clean t-shirt out of his drawer, you threw the t-shirt on the mattress next to him as you walked to your side of the bed. He took the t-shirt and put it on. You laid down on the mattress and took him in your arms, your head resting on his back.
He spun around so you were facing each other, "I love you." He whispered.
"I love you too." You whispered back.