#then i suddenly was filled with the need to draw him doing the anime delinquent squat tm

[rain-coat-killer]

Psst. @tiny-chubby-bird

Here yer boi.

I tried to combine different aspects of the reference pictures and then also your picture of him.

#the first one was me figuring out how i was gonna draw him #then i suddenly was filled with the need to draw him doing the anime delinquent squat tm #he grumpy #ashley probably is eating something she shouldnt...yknow again #watch her eat that butterfly i swear #warframe #warframe spoilers #operator #(s) #operator ashley #cephalon ordis

[p-antomime]

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.

#dabi smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #bnha touya #touya smut #bnha dabi #mha dabi #i4nanami #bnha toya #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #bnha

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 28

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Previous Chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, Fantasy AU You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 11.720

Warnings: memories of abuse, getting startled, mild panic, touching feet, food/baking, mentioned alcoholism. Let me know if I missed any.

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Sooooo I realized I’ve been criminally neglecting my Tag list and I am SO sorry! Please forgive me, I swear to do better. This Chapter was originally supposed to feature Remus already, but I realized it was too soon, Patton needed some more time. A special thanks again to my beloved betas @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 and @hanramz-the-fander, you are both simply incredible!

Chapter 28

Patton felt like his whole body was cut and bruised as he woke up after The Fight. This was not entirely unusual – he’d gotten used to bearing the sharp needle stabs of pain every movement caused in silence, yet this time, he did not have to get up painfully and treat quietly on the tips of his toes in a desperate attempt not to draw attention to himself and to somehow make up for his mistakes before Trevor got out of bed. Usually, he’d try to make breakfast, clean up the effects of last night, make himself pretty or at least presentable and fearfully hope the anger from before had vanished when his boyfriend woke up. He’d hardly dare to make a sound for days and try to smile and soothe whenever he could. He knew how badly Trevor handled those episodes when he lost control and would not want things to slip out of control again or have him falling into one of his depressive episodes over it.

This morning however, he woke to the quiet sound of voices whispering over his head. He smelled tea and laundry detergent and that green smell of a lot of verdant plants and damp earth. A large body was wrapped around him that rumbled against his back very softly, while a thin figure was still curled up in his arms, taking up little space. On instinct, the patissier remained small as a mouse, unnoticed and silent. As he blinked his eyes open carefully, he found that Cat had no such reservations. She and the kitten had spread themselves out in the night and taken up a large portion of the bed displaying soft belly fur while he, Roman and Virgil had shuffled away from sharp little paws and tails in their faces and had now settled at the corner of the mattress in a tangled pile.

Logan was awake already, as he usually was. Bathed in the warm, early morning light and dressed in a handsome, form fitting shirt in pale blue with the sleeves rolled up and top button undone, he looked soft in a way that suggested he hadn’t come online entirely yet. His raven hair was still slightly damp from the shower, curling at the ends. He wasn’t wearing a tie. While he carefully placed three mismatched mugs of tea on the bedside table, he quietly filled Roman in on their work schedule for the week and about how their application for a part-time home office had been granted.

Patton, used to carefully observing men’s moods especially when he was bruised to the bone, noticed dark, tired shadows under his eyes as well as bluish bruises on the knuckles of his right hand. Yet his shoulders and neck seemed to have lost some of the tension the patissier had become used to as they hugged, before the taller man’s muscles had relaxed as he’d wrapped his arms around Patton’s narrow waist. His next breath came more easily.

No one actively mentioned what had been done to him as they sleepily untangled from each other. As soon as he noticed Patton had woken up, Roman distracted him with anecdotes about sleeping with his animal friends (less glamorous than in the Disney stories!). He moved slowly as not to startle the younger man again. Virgil, still unusually quiet, helped settle Patton in the bed and slunk off to make breakfast.

“He’ll be okay, don’t worry, my dearest.” Roman assured him as he noticed the baker’s concerned look. Patton had huddled against the pillows stacked against the headboard and wrapped his arms around himself like a child, tiny and half buried under clean, if fur covered blankets. His honey-brown eyes were wide and wet.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out. Guilt was creeping into the space behind his collar-bone, coalescing and rising up his throat bitterly. He tried very hard to keep his thoughts centered in this room, but even here, Virgil was suffering when Patton had only ever wanted to shield him from this. He’d spilled his problems into this safe space and now the air was thick with unaddressed emotion. Anger and blame and humiliating questions. Why did you let him do this? He’d been asked by everyone who found out. Shame threatened to drown him in a red hot wave, making him sweat and tremble.

A gust of cool morning-air ruffled his light-brown curls against his forehead. Logan had opened a window and was pushing a lightly furred, colorful plant around its already perfect spot on the windowsill. Its leaves were colored a deep burgundy red with pink in the middle and a light green border around the edges. It looked lovely between his pale, long fingers.

“Roman is right.” The detective muttered, keeping his gaze focused on the pot he was turning this way and that so the light caught it just right. He felt too shaken still to look Patton in the eyes and expose all of his feelings rattling loose and unprotected around his head. The sensation of the fragile cellular structure under his fingertips grounded him and he tried to focus on it entirely instead of the thrumming images of Patton hurt Patton bleeding Patton shying away from him in terror. He was afraid to meet his eyes lest he’d see the same fear again.

“You have no cause for worry anymore, Patton. I hope you understand that we will aid you as you deserve from now on and therefore solve any issue together. Neither you nor Virgil will be without support anymore, just as Roman and I surely will profit from your care. I am certain that no problem can be so insurmountable as not to be fixed by a group of such diverse talents and inclinations as this.” He uttered, trying to keep his voice low and soothing, hyper aware of the wide eyes focused on him.

The weight of the small patissier’s attention felt heavy suddenly. He swallowed hard, trying to chase away his insecurity. He had Patton here, finally, safe in his hands and Roman’s arms and Logan was petrified. He longed to touch Patton, to run his hands all over his body where blues and reds had been spilled under his skin and take the memories of violence and humiliation away. He wanted to replace his fear with trust, he wanted to make Patton smile, he hurt with how much he wanted his happiness.

The memory of his anguish as he’d been beaten to the ground made the detective understand what people referred to when they used overly poetic phrases like ‘gutted’. He could relate to the sensation of having a sharp metal hook driven into the space behind one’s throat, tear deep into the soft tissue of one’s neck and rip out all of the structures that gave stability. His whole nervous system felt torn from his body, impossible as it may be, and he was left with a feeling of being ripped open – tender and vulnerable.

The soft, burgundy colored leaf ripped in his shaking hand.

He took a deep breath, centering himself. Shutting it all away. Patton didn’t need his unreliable urges and needs right now. His features were smooth as he turned to the tangled little family on the bed.

“I believe it would be beneficial to orient our efforts on your needs directly, instead of attempting to presume the best course of action on your behalf. How may we assist you, Patton? What do you need?” He inquired politely, folding his hands in front of himself. Keeping them from where they might not be wanted.

Patton, now curled up against a mountain of pillows against the headboard with a not really awake kitten snoring in his lap, looked frightened at the offer.

Logan’s breath caught on the hook tearing at his neck. Had he demanded too much of Patton already? Had he frightened him with his clinical tone?

“It’s alright, dearest Patton.” Roman soothed. He settled the kitten comfortably in his little friend’s arms and gave him a soft smile.

“Whatever you need is alright. We won’t be mad and we don’t need to understand it to accept that you need it.”

The baker tried to believe his friend’s kind words, but the thing he knew he’d have to do as soon as Logan had offered would make them angry, he knew it. He was frustrating and hurting them and they did not deserve any of it.

He was too scared to ask.

“It’s about him, isn’t it?”

Virgil’s voice was quiet and hard to read. The young man was half hiding behind the door, burrowing his hands deep in his pocket. He sighed, his whole, thin body appearing to become heavier with it. After a long moment, he pulled himself together to face his frightened friend. He wouldn’t fail him again with his anger and prejudice.

“It’s okay, Patton. I get that you worry. You don’t just stop caring about people who hurt you, even if they’re bastards. Even when you should. So, what do you need?”

Oh fuck.

Tears started streaming down Patton’s pale, bruised face. He swallowed a sob, still utterly silent, small and undemanding.

Both Logan and Virgil had frozen, fearful of getting too close, of doing the wrong thing, of having caused -

Roman gave the barista a subtle nudge and Virgil went, offering his arms awkwardly.

Patton burrowed into the embrace gratefully. He loved Virgil so, so much. When he felt safe enough to raise his head, he found Logan crouching in front of him, quiet and patient.

“Please don’t put him in prison.”

The words had been spoken almost too quiet to hear. Patton was clearly frightened to make his request. He knew it would hurt Logan. And it did. The detective looked devastated. Patton still felt threatened by him, even if it wasn’t for his own sake.

Logan’s silence was painful to bear, thought it was not reproachful. Finally, he nodded.

“I will not do anything without your consent, Patton. I promised.”

“Oh. Thank you, Logan.” The slight patissier mumbled.

“There is no need for gratitude, Patton.”

“Yes there is! I know this is normal for you, because you are amazing and smart and kind and so nice to me all the time, to everyone really, but it means so much to me when you say that. You have no idea how important the things you say are. I’m so grateful to you. You’re my hero.” Patton exclaimed, suddenly finding it very important that the older man understood just how marvelous he found him.

Logan flushed brightly.

The group tried their best to understand that Patton wasn’t able to just ignore what happened to Trevor and move on. He at least had to find out if he was badly hurt, so they agreed to find out if he was still in the hospital and how to contact him after they fed him and made sure he was comfortable. Everyone was wound up so tightly, the time to breathe would help them calm down.

Breakfast was marvelous. Patton was better able to enjoy being taken care of now that he found that no one was angry at him for needing to check up on Trevor’s health. He knew they were disappointed that he could not make a clean cut, though. He understood them, too. Patton wished he were able to just close this chapter of his life and walk away. He didn’t know what he still needed to hear to make it happen. Maybe he was just too stupid to know when to stop.

As if sensing his heavy thoughts, Roman made sure to distract Patton. Making sure to keep any weight off his injured ankle, he carried him to the kitchen Virgil had taken over and kept him entertained while they ate the lovely food the barista had prepared. Then, they settled him on the comfortable couch with the kitten and cleaned up the kitchen together to give Patton some privacy to find out how the man that had injured him so badly was faring.

Though he had been feeling much better during breakfast, now that he stared at the number Logan had written down in his tidy handwriting in dark blue ink, he felt afraid once again. Yesterday had been the worst fight he’d had to live though in a long time and perhaps the most disappointed he’d ever been. Just thinking about it made him barely able to hold back his tears. He covered his face with his hands and tried to think of something other than his feral expression, so betrayed, so hateful. He was hit hard by how much he loathed the thought of hearing his voice. How badly he never wanted to see him again. He feared this man, no matter how much he’d loved him. Still, he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t even find out how badly he was hurt. What kind of person would that make him? He was here, cared for so well and Trevor was all alone. No one would ask him how he was but Patton. He had no choice. With shaking hands, he picked up the phone – a land-line – of course Logan would still have one, dialed the number and was connected with Trevor’s room.

“Hello?”

Even though he’d called him, hearing Trevor’s voice was a shock to Patton’s system. It made him freeze for a long moment, heart racing with terror.

“Hello, what is it?” He repeated. Then, more quietly, “Is that you, babe?”

“Um, yes.” Patton muttered. He couldn’t get out more than a whisper. He was tiny and afraid again, guilty and helpless once more.

A shocked flinch almost made him drop the phone altogether. The kitten he’d been left with had pounced on the hand lying in his lap and tried to wrestle with it. It’s tiny tail was sticking straight like a little flag. Patton remembered an expression he’d learned from an Austrian student when he’d studied for his patissier-training in Germany for a few months. ‘Autodromkatzer’ they called the really little kittens, because they’re tails would stick up like the flag-poles at the back those funny bumper cars. He’d always wanted to have one. Turning his hand a little he let the kitten gnaw at his finger with its tiny teeth. It looked proud to have caught him. He tried to focus on the warm baby animal to get through the conversation.

“Babe?”

“Uh, yes. Sorry. Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry.” He stammered. Trevor couldn’t hurt him here, he reminded himself, only the feelings Patton just couldn’t control could. Trevor’s next sentence was enough to send him spiraling with guilt.

“You’re not here.” He sounded shaken. Alone. Patton struggled to find words through the tears gathering in his throat.

“I’m sorry you woke up alone. Are you hurt very badly?”

“Don’t pretend you care!” Trevor screeched suddenly, his voice almost breaking. “You did this to me! You brought him into our lives! How could you do this to us? I wasn’t enough and you went looking for someone better! Is that it? Did you want a better man?!”

“NO, Trevor, I never tried to-”

“Did you sleep with him?” Trevor interrupted. He sounded close to tears now. Patton clutched a hand over his mouth to hold himself together, breathing through the upset emotions for a moment.

“Never.” He whispered miserably. Nothing could eat away at his insides quite like his boyfriend’s suffering. His narrow chest ached so badly he had to wrap a bandaged arm around himself. “I never wanted to replace you, I swear. I love you. I only wanted you to be happy.”

Like a switch had been flipped, Trevor’s tone changed from broken to pleading, manipulating. Patton had never noticed it this clearly before.

“I want you to be happy too, babe. Don’t you see what that man is doing to us? He’s trying to steal you to keep you for himself where he can isolate you. He’s a psycho, you have no idea what he could do to you. Babe, he’s a cop, he can get away with doing whatever he wants with you and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

“Trevor, no-” Frustrated and worried for him, Patton tried to find the right words. He didn’t want him to work himself into a paranoid breakdown and he hated hearing him to upset, yet he couldn’t quite accept what he’d said.

“Logan isn’t like that, he would never hurt me.”

“HE ALMOST KILLED ME YOU DUMB BITCH DON’T YOU SEE?!”

Patton flinched hard, almost dropping the phone. Shaking with sudden terror, he pressed himself against the cushions. Despite being half a city away, he expected to feel the consequences of this explosive anger for a terrible moment.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Logan stood in the doorway to the kitchen, framed by the colored glass and wood. He was clutching a dish towel in bruised hands, looking helpless. His dark eyes were large and worried, telling Patton he wanted to do nothing more than protect him somehow. Roman and Virgil were hovering behind him, frozen in their futile attempt to keep a wiggling Cat from climbing Roman’s back with sharp claws to get to the upper shelves and hover there in wait for unsuspecting victims. None of them looked anything like the abusive, controlling men Trevor was making them out to be. Patton had never seen the irony of his claims more clearly. He gave them a shaky smile.

Scooping the kitten up to his chest and holding it close, he braced himself.

“Trevor, please calm down. I’m so sorry you got hurt, but Logan was only trying to protect me. You left him no other choice. It wasn’t his fault.”

The unexpected reprimand was delivered softly, but it didn’t fail to have an effect. Trevor sounded taken aback. Once again, his tone changed seamlessly.

“You’re right, of course. I’m so sorry, babe. I- I deserve to get the shit kicked out of me, I shouldn’t have hurt you, you’re right, you’re always right. I don’t deserve you and I hate myself for what I did, please, I’m so sorry, I just want you to be happy. I’m so sorry I’m such a failure.” He rambled, his voice thick with tears and desperation. Horrified and a little disoriented at the sudden change, Patton rushed to reassure him.

“You’re not a failure! I’m so proud of you for how you wanted to try to fix things! You wanted to work on yourself and that is so good of you! I believe in you, you can get better! Please don’t say those things!”

Trevor’s response became soft as butter. He sounded so helpless, harmless.

“I can’t do it without you, though! Babe, I’m nothing without you! When I woke up alone I didn’t know how to go on. I love you so much, you’re the most important thing I have, you’re my babe. My love. I’ll try to be what you deserve, I’ll give you everything, I’ll listen to you, whatever you want, just please come home, don’t stay with that psycho. I don’t know what he told you, but he doesn’t love you like I do. He doesn’t need you.”

Patton froze. Yes, he was right. Logan didn’t need him.

His gaze fell on the clean floor at his feet, swept over the healthy plants, over Virgil whose cheeks were gaining color and Roman who was wrestling a confident stray, to Logan who was trying – and failing – to look like he was not watching Patton to see if he needed any help. Nicodemus sat on his shoulder nibbling a nut with both paws. The little animal had been adopted into a flat that was tidy and clean. There was no screaming here, no violent episodes, no broken glass in corners no matter how much Patton cleaned, no odd jobs that were barely legal and that forced Patton to pay the rent for both of them, no accusing looks and threatening, thick silences. Logan had his life under control. He didn’t need Patton in it.

Nothing could have prepared him for the relief he felt. Logan didn’t need Patton to make him eat or shower, to compensate for his unpredictable moods or to satisfy his emotional or physical needs. Logan didn’t need him to survive.

Patton had never truly felt the pressure he had been living with until this moment.

His narrow shoulders fell with an exhaustion that came with finally unwinding. Finally letting go. The thought of not being needed had always terrified him, until he had learned what it meant to be wanted, instead of needed.

“You’re right.” He muttered softly.

Trevor pounced on the change of heart with the desperation of a drowning man, modifying his tone to what he believed would make Patton so what he wanted, as the baker noticed.

“I know, babe. But it’s okay. You made a mistake with that man and you got in too deep with him, but I forgive you. I’ll always be there for you, I’d never leave you. Now everything can be different. Now you’ll come home and we’ll figure everything out.”

“No.”

A long, startled pause stretched on the other line.

“What-”

“I’m not coming home. I’m sorry. I really tried to give you what you need, but I’ll never be able to make things right for you. Only you can do that. Please get help.” He pleaded, making things quick before he lost his courage entirely. And softly, he added. “I love you.”

Patton hung up.

Astonished silence flooded the apartment. Though they had definitely tried not to listen, all three men were watching the patissier from the doorway of the kitchen, baffled at the abrupt cut the gentle baker had made.

The phone slipped from numb fingers and landed on the turquoise cushion with a dull thud. Patton was crying before any of them had the chance to process that he had just effectively evicted Trevor from his life.

His tears were hot on his cheeks and seemed to leave burning lines behind. Yet as he looked up through the haze he found not only endless patience and affection on the faces of the men he’d chosen over his boyfriend, but also awed pride.

They were proud of him.

Though he was crying, he felt nothing but relief.

********

During the next two days, Patton’s overwhelmed body and mind simply shut down. He was tired and drained to the bone by his injuries and the emotional stress his decision had caused him to the point of simply sleeping most of the time. Whenever he woke up, someone was there to fuss over him or at least he had a pet to cuddle. He was fed and cared for and finally, on the third day, he woke up and felt like he finally had the strength to face the world again. It felt like a new day.

That day was a Saturday and from what he could tell from the sounds of the apartment, the others were already awake. The shower was running next door and he could hear Logan’s annoyed voice grumbling and cursing from the bathroom over the running water. A moment later, Roman wailed his complaints about his ignored hygienic needs. Poor Logan really wasn’t safe anywhere.

Through the crack in the bedroom door, Patton saw the younger detective shuffle out of the bathroom in his silk night-gown with the large, smooth fabric adorned by a crimson flowery pattern threatening to slip over one shoulder, arms laden with the beauty products he had apparently not been able to wait for. There were little pieces of cotton stuck between the painted toes to protect the fresh coat of ruby polish. It made him waddle like a fancy duck. Surprised by his own feelings, Patton giggled. The moment the unexpected sound left his lips he knew he’d found his mission for the day. He’d make sure no one would have to worry about him anymore. The most important thing for him had always been to make his family happy and he had not been doing a very good job of it recently. He knew they’d worried and especially Logan seemed to have dealt badly with the knowledge that Patton had been with a troubled man and had refused the offered support. He must have felt very helpless.

He wouldn’t be the cause of any more worry. No Sir. Today, he’d smile and start making himself useful. It was hard to imagine how much they had to care for him in, well, the last few months, really. He’d been such a burden. The memories of Logan’s restrained, worried glances kept piling up in his head the more he thought about it. He’d asked so much of the poor man, how would he ever make up for it? The fact that he had slept away the days in the detective’s bed after literally having to be carried in his arms to safety felt impossible to wrap his silly little head around.

But now Patton felt some new hope. Yes, he was still hurting and yes, he was lost. More lost than he’d even been in fact. During all of his adult life, he’d been with Trevor. He’d always had him to focus on and structure his life around. Now, he was gone, along with the flat and the relationship that had given him stability and purpose. But the end of their life together had not ended Patton’s world as he’d been sure it would. He’d fallen and been caught in the most gentle embrace. This time, his laugh did not have to be forced. Especially considering his lovely Roman was the most exasperatingly adorable thing in the whole wide world for sure!

Having already passed the room, upon hearing the little giggle, Roman retraced his steps and stuck his ruffled head into the room. With the side cut and his uncombed hair standing up in a curled mess, Patton amended that an awkwardly strutting peacock might be more fitting than a waddling duck.

A happy peacock at that, since he brightened like sunshine as his attentive examination revealed his friend’s cheerful expression.

“Dearest Patton, the sight of your lovely face makes my heart soar! How are you faring this fine morning?”

“Morning, RoRo! I’m feeling like a new person!” Patton cheered with his sweetest smile, spreading his arms wide. His cheek was still tender and must have turned to a bluish purple, he knew, and his split lip protested when he smiled, but he didn’t bleed again, which was great.

The look of affectionate relief on his friends face was enough to melt Patton and make him feel so soft. How he adored Roman. He loved the way he looked so cute this morning, caught in the middle of his grooming, or the obnoxious need for attention that had probably made him sneak into the bathroom just as much as the desire for his rose-scented lotion. Sometimes, Patton thought he liked to annoy Logan just to enjoy the fact that his partner would scold him but still so obviously love him. Just to wake up and get to witness Roman harassing Logan during his shower (and most importantly get away with such a thing Patton would have been terrified to do) made him feel blessed and soothed his heavy heart. It was the atmosphere of this place – the sounds in all corners of the flat speaking of people comfortably going about their business. Not to mention the personal touches of everyone who lived here. One of Roman’s pictures hung above this very bed. Patton had looked at it a lot when he had woken up at night. The room was never really dark due to the timers on the planet-shaped lights spread around the room. He’d known about them from Logan’s confession of course, yet during his second night here, he’d noticed another endearing detail. The large image of a black, blue and purple cosmic nebula appeared to wake up in the near-darkness and became awash with a thousand glowing stars spread over the canvass. It was so beautiful and so thoughtful of Roman.

The next day, he’d found a book about renewable energy sources tidily filled with lavender and purple post-it notes in the chair next to the bed. And of course, he saw Logan’s presence everywhere. Though he’d been too tired to stay awake long, he’d examined the collectibles and self-built models of spaceships that had been strung from the ceiling or crammed between the books. Logan would not love to hear them called toys, but Patton still did, in the privacy of his mind. The more he cautiously snooped around, the more he found traces of the kid the serious detective tried hard to hide. There were a lot of detective novels with lovingly touch-softened pages and even quite a few comic books in the very bottom of the shelf. One was missing, probably swiped by Virgil to read half-hidden under the covers of his bed. Patton had wondered, tentatively, in his silly, hopeful moments, if he would be allowed to spread out his roots this way as well. The light gray hair floating through the sunlit patches of air in the bedroom suggested that maybe he already had.

Roman was more than happy to exchange him for his lotion and whatnot and sweep him into his arms, despite the dangerous wobble the cottoned toes caused him. Both he and Logan still insisted on carrying him everywhere, due to his ankle. He had a crutch, Logan had made sure to have everything he might need on hand, but he had never had the chance to use it.

The sleeping ball of fur was simply placed in his lap. It made a soft “Whrm?” noise upon being grabbed by a large hand and continued to sleep.

The living-room was filled with a delightful smell that wafted in from the kitchen like warm fog blanketing every surface. Virgil was humming to the quiet music Patton would describe as adorably punky be-bop. The edgy lyrics always made him think those kiddos needed a hug.

Roman settled Patton on a comfy chair at the long, wooden table in the kitchen where he could easily watch Virgil and wobbled to retrieve his lotions. Virgil stilled as he spotted them, spatula laden with an unflipped pancake in hand and pale feet bare on the clean floors. Pulling his sleep-messy curls back from his face, Patton grinned at him, genuinely happy to see his kiddo so at home and doing something he enjoyed. He had never had such an easy time summoning his smile and covering his aches and fears. And he would do just that! Virgil had been terribly silent and hurt the other day and Patton would make extra sure nothing reminded him of the things that had happened to him. He would not bring his failures and issues into this home anymore!

“Good morning, Virgil! What an eggsquisite day! I’ve never slept butter!” He chirped with perhaps a touch too much cheer, intending to make very sure his friend lost the concerned frown marring his pretty features.

Still, Virgil huffed a quiet laugh, shoulders sagging with relief.

“Morning Pat. Want some tea?” He mumbled.

“Sure! Let me help you, sweetie!” Patton offered, feeling perfectly capable of making his way around the kitchen with his minor injuries. He barely felt the cuts on his hand and arm anymore after Logan had diligently cleaned and checked them every day.

“Nah, it’s fine. I got this.” Virgil waved off his offer, worriedly waving the spatula in his direction to shoo him back into his seat. He looked like he would use it to coral Patton back into a sitting position if he had to. It was an endearing thought. Though he didn’t do well being catered to, Patton could see how comfortable Virgil was with the pancakes baking, the pretty, colorful fruits diced in a bowl behind him on the counter and the eggs bubbling in another pan. He’d claimed this space for himself and was ruling it confidently. The atmosphere was contagious. Patton couldn’t remember feeling so light and calm before breakfast in a long time. He was so proud of Virgil.

Instead of following his ever present urge to work to make the people around him happy and anticipate and fulfill their needs, Patton allowed himself to settle down and watch the fattening raccoon noisily demolish the fruit peels left for it on the counter. A moment later, a thick walled ceramic mug was placed before him, steaming with sweetened tea.

“Thanks a brunch!” He exclaimed, smiling in a way he hoped conveyed just how well he thought the former gang member was doing. He knew his praise made him shy, so he tried to convey his love and pride non-verbally as much as he could. Even so, Virgil flushed and ducked his head.

The sound of a closing door announced Logan’s immediate arrival and caused the barista to grab a grumbling raccoon under the belly and settle it on the floor with its bowl. After a quick wipe of the counter he was back to innocently flipping pancakes by the time the detective entered the room.

A quick burst of white hot fear shot through Patton. Had the raccoon not been allowed on the counter? Would Logan get angry? He’d been feeling very well a second ago, but now he could not help remembering how intimidating the tall detective could be in his rare, intense fits of anger.

The disgruntled glance Logan examined the counter with showed that he was not fooled about the whereabouts of the raccoon, but he said nothing about it. A little smile lit up Virgil’s face as he found that he was allowed to get away with his transgression. Neither man seemed inclined to pay more attention to the situation.

Patton hid a trembling sigh behind his cup, quickly recovering from his brief moment of shock. It was like missing a step and feeling like falling – frightening, but only for a moment. His little heart would slow down eventually.

“Good morning Patton, Virgil.” Logan nodded to the both, trying, and failing, to subtly examine Patton. The patissier smiled brightly at the taller man.

“Heyja Logan! Don’tcha worry, there is muffing wrong with me! Roman carried me here and Virgil wouldn’t let me help at all. I couldn’t hurt myself if I fried!” He joked, pleased with the way the sound of the sizzling pan underlined his puns.

A small twitch of his lip told Patton that the return of the puns was appreciated. He was so glad to see the man’s shoulders loosening. He refused to allow any dark thoughts to enter this flat today. The guilty dreams he’d battled during his tired days and nights had been more than enough. It was time to start over and make his friends smile as much as he possibly could. The mission invigorated him and filled him with a purpose he’d been so terrified to live without. He focused on it completely, finally managing to not feel torn by conflicting loyalties anymore. He’d managed to make a decision that was final and that allowed him to start a new chapter.

Roman joined them just in time to be fed, briefly having to squabble about his chair with Cat who liked to steal his spots in particular to place her paws on the table and creepily stare at everyone.

It occurred to Patton that this was the first time he got to experience a normal day at the flat.

Breakfast in Logan’s household was something Patton had imagined a lot while he’d brewed black coffee before the sun rose and tidily set the table in the hopes of making Trevor eat. He’d wondered what it would be like to see them all sitting together in the morning ever since Virgil had mentioned they ate together.

Very domestic, as it turned out. Whenever Roman wasn’t chatting, Logan and Virgil had short, quiet conversations, like they needed very little space next to the loud young man to understand each other. They all made sure to involve Patton and entertain him, while still trying not to demand too much. He must still feel very fragile to them. Or perhaps they did not trust his sudden good mood. Patton had the feeling he would have to deal with some issues sooner or later, as he always did when he pushed away his dark feelings during happier times at work, but for now he felt freed. There was no going back and for once, he felt too good to beat himself up. There was more than enough to distract him after all.

As the day continued he found that the members of Logan’s household tended to drift apart doing various things on their own without really being alone. Roman read magazines on the couch, occasionally showing the pictures to Patton or gossiping with him and later settled on a cushion on the floor to paint.

Logan would scowl at him and berate him about the growing radius of supplies scattered around him like debris after a colorful meteorite strike after he nearly brained himself from stepping on a paintbrush on his way to the kitchen. He buzzed around the flat with various cleaning supplies before he got busy with his books or laptop in his room or occasionally at his desk in the living-room, though he made his rounds through the flat like a clockwork, harassing people to drink water like a mother-hen. Even the pets were carried to their bowls whether they wanted to or not. Trying to scoot backwards between his feet to escape was pointless. Being a good pet lead to tasty rewards, though. Nicodemus clearly had it figured out long ago and was gazing at the poor, dumb beasts trying to evade the clumsy love and care with aloof pity.

Virgil snuck out of the flat for two hours with a gym bag once but otherwise he drifted through the rooms silently like a pale ghost, making snacks, working in his room or curling up with Patton in the very corner of the sofa to read quietly.

The patissier himself had been settled on the couch with a nest of pillows, surrounded by an odd collection of things his friends thought he might enjoy. Books and magazines, the remote control for Netflix kids, cookies and a tablet for scrolling through Pinterest, and set aside for when his hand was healed more, an adult coloring book and even knitting needles and a ball of rainbow-colored wool, both still packed together in plastic. Logan had left it for him like a reverse thief in the night, blushing bashfully.

Patton awoke from his nap as the shadows lengthened from the mid-afternoon sun. Before they’d all fallen into a food induced coma, Virgil had cooked lunch for them while Logan had diced the vegetables into very tidy squares. The creamy pumpkin soup with garlic-herb baguettes had made everyone sleepy and caused the comfortable silence that was still heavy in the air as Patton rubbed his eyes. He’d slept more than enough during the last few days. Freeing himself from the tangle of Roman’s long limbs, he quietly got up and headed for the kitchen. Though he’d been very well entertained, he couldn’t help the familiar urge that drew him to the workspace. Creating something lovely and tasty was the best way for him to put his mind at ease and he knew very well that too much time to think would hardly be a good idea. It would undoubtedly leave him spiraling with thoughts of who he’d left behind and allow him to remember of all of the threats Trevor had made about what he’d do if Patton ever decided to leave him in vivid detail. With Roman’s cheerful help, he’d already knitted a fair length of a quite uneven scarf in order to keep his mind pleasantly blank, making the kitten fall asleep after exhausting itself chasing after Patton’s wool. Yet, nothing soothed him quite like baking.

Logan had left the crutch within his reach so he now used it to get around. It was no trouble for Patton, since he knew the pain of walking on injured limbs would become ignorable with enough distractions after a while. After quietly easing the lovely doors shut so not to wake Roman snoring noisily on the sofa, Patton dared to roam around the beautiful, brightly lit kitchen like he’d dreamed for so long. The white, classy cabinets and the warm, wooden floor made the space so comfortable and inviting to him. He’d secretly dreamed a lot about what he’d do here given half the chance, and baking was only a part of those daydreams. He wasn’t serious of course. Daring to suggest redecorations in a flat where he actually had no business spreading his issues would be unbelievably rude and he did feel a bit ashamed of his thoughts, but it was just a harmless hobby, he told himself. No one needed to know.

First, he opened the balcony doors to let in the fresh air. There were a few sensible, evergreen plants placed around the sunny space, but otherwise Logan hadn’t done too much with it yet. Patton had so many nice ideas. Colorful cushions and low benches and maybe a pretty fabric pulled over the balcony to shield them from the brightness. And lots of cheerful flowers to go along with the useful herbs Logan or Virgil had planted there. And fairy lights for the evening. Also a few flowers on the table in the kitchen and perhaps some candles in varying shades of blue would made the space feel even more like a home. He could clearly imagine how well his professional, turquoise Kitchen-aid would fit in with the matching colors of the living-room.

He shook his head at his silly ideas. Best not to let a jumbled mind like his run wild, he’d only say something dumb and insult somebody.

Now, what could he bake to make himself useful? Logan had repeatedly said he could, (“‘Make yourself at home’, is, I believe, the correct figure of speech”), yet he was still a little shy about looking around. Would Logan even have baking supplies? He’d never heard him mention it before and he knew Virgil preferred to cook. Best have a look around and find out. Making extra sure to remember the way things were stored so not to make the tidy man mad at him, Patton started searching the cabinets like a slightly nervous kid during Easter. Bending and walking hurt and he got dizzy standing up to the point of almost toppling over, but he could handle that. While he found some useful baking pans and even a muffin-tray, as well as an old set of cookie cutter shapes he was quite intrigued by, the real prize awaited him in the little pantry whose door was discreetly placed in the far corner.

All of the wooden shelves along the walls were neatly labeled and most of the ingredients and supplies were stored in mason jars to protect against moths or stacked in pretty, weaved baskets. There was enough stuff to feed the whole household for weeks. Logan seemed to be a little on the paranoid side, which surprised – precisely - no one.

Curiosity awakened, Patton limped into the little room, examining the sections – rice, grain, soy, lentils, nuts, jams (lots), canned vegetables, oh – baking. Next to large mason jars filled with three different types of flour he found a whole section of the shelves near the back filled with baskets whose contents he was quite familiar with. He found one labeled ‘sugars’ filled not only with brown, powdered and white sugar, but also with an array of sugar-based decorations like sprinkles and a colorful selection of candies. Another box contained various little packages of baking soda, yeast, citrus-, rum- and butter-aroma, several spices like cinnamon, lavender, ginger, nutmeg and other little helpers. There even was a basket containing different kinds of chocolates, chocolate-chips and pure cocoa powder. Everything was still sealed in its original package.

Patton stood for a long moment, hands clasped over his mouth to stifle any sound, and just cried.

Why were they doing this?

He tried to grope for an explanation that did not make him look like a hopeful, deluded idiot. Had Logan or Virgil planned to learn how to bake? Patton didn’t think so. Before his mind’s eye, the image of Logan diligently researching baking supplies was clear as day. He’d gone shopping with Roman – the candies were far too elaborate and playful for the serious man, and perhaps Virgil had come too. Lavender and ginger were hardly part of the basic set. His clever barista had an eye for flavors though.

His lip hurt like a flash of white hot lightning as he bit it to stifle his gasps as he cried, alone in this tiny little room where Logan and his family had created a space for him. He didn’t even know why his tears had come this time, he just felt so overwhelmed. He should be laughing, but all he did was cry. All he ever did was cry. Virgil had had it much harder than him, he bet, but he was sure he’d never been this ridiculous.

Trying to pull himself together only made him gasp harder for a moment. He had to lean heavily on the sturdy shelves, making the glass jars filled with peaches and cherries clink together softly. Yet with the passing minutes, he calmed. Settling his gaze firmly on the supplies bought for him, Patton manage to ignore his dizziness and focus. To his own shock, a wheezing laugh escaped him. His chest felt jumbled and untidy with its storm of emotions, but a few were starting to gain the upper hand. Love, for one. He felt loved and he just loved these men so much in return. They’d made a group effort to give Patton what he wanted so much – what he’d always wanted in life. A place to belong. He was jittery with joy suddenly, and realized he was crying with happiness.

This was what he’d always looked for but had never gotten in his life with Trevor. A home where he was seen with all of his needs and wishes. A place where he was wanted and where he was allowed to just be. Knowing he wouldn’t dare to do it himself, Logan invited him to take space for himself instead of making him reduce his bothersome needs to the bare minimum. Sometimes he’d felt like Trevor’s mental illness had pushed everything else out and had not left enough space in their lives for more than one person, so Patton had to be less than that. Less emotional, less needy, less… himself.

He allowed another laugh, finding the feeling just so nice. He hadn’t indulged in the pleasure of laughing in so long. Grief and elation were so close together right now, he didn’t know how to tell them apart sometimes. His mood swings scared him a little, but then again, he’d always been a little all over the place. Messy.

His hands were salty with tears because he’d brushed them over his tear-damp cheeks, mindful of the purplish bruise. He’d have to wash them extra carefully. Now, time to bake and be well. He was determined to heal.

As he examined the ingredients, he realized that his bandaged hand wouldn’t make things easy for him, but again, what was new? He’d leave the crutch and just hobble around a bit. Like a rabbit. It would be fun.

But what would he bake?

As he rifled through the things he loved so much, the tastes and smells appeared in his mind, combining vividly with everything his fingers touched. The aromas of vanilla, cinnamon, citrus, butter and chocolate were as clear to him as if he were working with them right now. He tidied around himself a little as he thought, putting the packets back in order and turning to rearrange the jars with the various fruits nicely. The glass of cherries landed in his hands again and he thought of the German curse Logan had thrown Roman’s way this morning in the shower. Patton knew some German from his unfortunately brief time learning there. It had been the biggest adventure of his life! He hadn’t thought he’d be brave enough to go through with it, all alone on another continent. But the scholarship had been paid for and he’d just been so curious. Even Trevor, who had been doing better than he had in the last few years, had seen how much he wanted to go. And it had been so worth the apprehension. He’d found the place so quaint with its colorful half-timber houses, old shutters and geraniums at the windows and the people hadn’t been as strict as he’d feared at all. Actually, many had been just as confused as him. And he’d learned most of the popular curses from a colleague. That was something he couldn’t tell anyone of course.

Logan’s dad had been German, if Patton remembered correctly. He wondered if he would appreciate something from home, sort of. He didn’t even know if the detective had ever been there, but considering how well educated he was, he’d probably seen much more of the world than little Patton.

Mind made up and looking forward to getting dirty, Patton started gathering supplies and piling them on the counter – mercifully without dropping any of them because of his injured hand. The German Black Forest Cake was a favorite of Patton’s, even though he sometimes thought it could do with more cheerful colors. The only concession he would make would be to leave out the Kirschwasser, and not only because there was none to be found. Though he sometimes used alcohol to bake in his Pat-isserie, he’d never included any in the recipes he made at home. He’d grown up with the horrors of an alcoholic father and had lived in constant fear of losing Trevor to the same addiction. It was one of the only things he’d ever put his foot down in the relationship. He would have only little alcohol in the flat, if at all.

It was something he’d guiltily looked for in the pantry as well. He hadn’t really gotten to know Logan and Roman properly in their private space yet and he knew how men could show a different picture in public before revealing their struggles in the comfort of home. He tried hard to ignore that some part of him waited for the other shoe to drop. He hadn’t found any hint of a terrible secret yet, though. There was some white wine in the pantry that looked cheap enough to cook with as well as a bottle each of sparkling-wine, Rosè and bourbon pushed into a corner with the gift-cards still attached. The wine was still in its paper bag and the carton of the bourbon was unopened. Well, Patton had had his own fair share of impersonal gifts to deal with, so he could understand the reaction of just sticking them somewhere out of sight.

Reassured, Patton decided to simply heat some cherry jam with water to spread over the chocolate cakes for the added moisture and mix it with almond extract to make some of the bitterness balance the sugar and replicate the sharpness of the alcohol.

After turning on the oven so the batter would have a warm and toasty home, he leaned against the counter to take the weight off his ankle and started measuring flour, salt, baking soda and cocoa powder for the chocolatey note and sifting them into a large bowl. The smell of the cocoa filled the room immediately and rose in the air like a powder soft cloud. Holding his tools carefully so not to have them slip because of his cottony bandage, Patton held his uninjured hand under the sieve as he shook the dry mixture into the bowl and sighed at the silk-like texture on his pale skin. The contact to soft, pleasant materials like yielding flour you could make satisfyingly smooth imprints in with your spoon, cool, brightly-colored sprinkles, or melting chocolate had always created a contrast to his life at home that could pull him out of his head and into the moment entirely. The darkened flour flowed down between his fingers like water, soft as flower-petals.

Pushing the mixture aside, Patton prepared the pan so the cake would come out without breaking into sad little pieces before preparing to separate the eggs. Beating the egg white into a solid cloudy mass and carefully mixing it with the rest of the batter would make the whole thing delightfully light and fluffy. Also, Patton loved the smooth and pure look of egg white clouds growing solid in flowing swirls in the bowl.

Knowing he’d need a little more space to work, the patissier pushed aside the pans quietly while grabbing another bowl for the egg-shells. In his mind, he was already a few steps ahead, which caused him to forget about his precarious grip on the smooth glass caused by his bandaged fingers. The pristine bowl slipped from his hand before he’d really noticed and shattered with a shockingly loud crash, exploding crystal-clear shards all over the ground.

Patton jumped in shock, terror stabbing through his insides like an ice-cold knife. His heart was racing instantly, cold sweat breaking out on his pasty skin. He stumbled backwards, instinctively wanting to hide, as a solid form appeared behind him.

The little patissier flinched hard, barely repressing a shriek as he was grabbed.

“Patton, please don’t be alarmed. I did not intend to startle you.” A calm voice rumbled in his ear.

For a long moment, Patton heard nothing but the deep baritone close to him and knew that he would be hurt with absolute certainty. His whole body trembled as his lungs struggled to work, adding dizziness to panic. He felt terrifyingly helpless.

Yet, the moment of being shaken, being beaten and tossed to the ground passed.

The smaller man’s rabbit-fast heart seemed to miss a beat from sheer relief as he was slowly released from his all encompassing terror. Logan hadn’t grabbed him, he’d wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back so his vulnerable, sock-clad feet had ended up standing on his running shoes, safely away from the sharp glass glinting in the mid-day sun.

Looking down at the image of himself standing on Logan’s feet like a child, Patton had to laugh despite his breathlessness. He was still reeling from his sudden fear, but the way he was being held was just too funny to keep his amusement at bay. Feeling him relax in his arms, the detective helped Patton turn around in his embrace so he could hold on to his shoulders and stand a little safer. Tension seeped out of him as Patton breathed out a sigh that seemed to release all of the tightness in his muscles. He held him closer carefully with his arms around his narrow waist. Despite neither having intended it, the hold turned into a comforting hug as Patton’s forehead fell against the cotton of the navy-blue t-shirt covering Logan’s shoulder.

The taller man had dressed for a run before he had been lured into the kitchen by tasty smells. He hadn’t meant to sneak up on Patton. The way he’d been so relaxed and competent with a soft smile on his lovely lips had just drawn him in. Now there was nothing separating them but two t-shirts warmed by their bodies. Getting lost in the moment, Patton turned his head to lay his cheek on the worn material, finally sinking against Logan’s chest like he should have days ago. They had both been so shy to touch for different reasons. He hadn’t realized how badly he had wanted this contact until now. His friend was so alive and reliable against his body. His chest expanded with quiet breaths Patton could feel warm against his neck and his heart beat a little too quickly against his own. Trustingly, he pushed himself close, liking the way he could feel so much more of the other man’s chest without the layers of pressed fabric between them. Every muscle in his back seemed to respond to the way Patton’s hands ran over them and he was getting absolutely lost in it. He even caused a little shiver in the stoic man that was just so adorably in character for him. He enjoyed that he knew that the detective was blushing even more hotly right now, despite how different the embrace was in some ways. For one, he was taller than usually, standing on the other man’s feet.

Logan ran a soothing, careful hand over the slender back without breaking the secure hold around the waist in his grip. With a little shifting, he managed to take the pressure off of the injured leg. The baker shouldn’t be standing up in the first place. Regrettably, he knew he’d better get him off his feet. He allowed himself a last breath of the pale curls though, smelling vanilla and cocoa and a warmth that came from Patton as much as from his own insides when he pressed him against his body. He was filled with protectiveness and affection so powerful it seemed to seep into every crevice of his being.

“We should avoid aggravating your sprained ankle. May I set you down on the counter?” He asked softly, mindful of how close his lips were to Patton’s ear so not to startle the relaxed creature in his embrace. He was gratified to notice how long the other appeared to need to respond, as if he was too relaxed to process the words. Indeed he could feel the small form grow pliant and heavy in his arms, trusting him to press him closer to hold him up.

“Hmn?” Blinking his eyes open, Patton lifted his face towards his friend, bringing them very close. Despite his bruised face, he was achingly pretty.

“Your ankle.” Logan reminded him gently, his deep voice resonating between them. “I would like to lift you onto the counter in order to avoid pressure on the pulled ligaments.”

“Oh, right.”

Growing more aware of his surroundings, Patton pulled back self-consciously and looked down at the broken glass, instantly pulling his limbs closer to his body to make himself smaller. Guilt coalesced in this chest.

“I’m so sorry I broke your bowl. I didn’t mean to make a mess. If you didn’t want me to clutter your kitchen I-”

“No!” Logan hastened to reassure him, uncharacteristically falling over his worlds in his fear for losing the pleasant atmosphere that had finally made Patton relax. “No, I am happy you are making yourself at home. Please utilize whatever you like. I enjoy seeing you and Virgil use the kitchen. And… I apologize for interrupting you.” He added self-consciously, already feeling a flush climb his cheeks. How could he be so rude?

Patton huffed a little laugh at how sweet Logan was to him. The last of his fear seemed to drain from him like sand running through the cracks of old stone. The more vulnerability the other showed him, the more confident in his wish to put him at ease Patton grew.

“Okay. Thank you.”

With a shy smile, Logan ducked his head. Shifting his grip, he gently wrapped his strong hands around the narrow hips and lifted the patissier up with barely an effort. Patton yelped despite having been warned and held on to the ever shifting muscle of Logan’s shoulders as they flexed under his hands. With a little giggle, he found himself safely deposited on the counter between the ingredients, a flushed, bashful detective standing before him. This time, they were pretty much of equal height. It was almost impossible to avoid eye contact this way, since his usual strategy of looking over Patton’s shoulder when embarrassed failed to work this way. Logan gazed at the tender, hazel eyes for a long moment before he couldn’t handle his shyness anymore. Ducking his head, he mumbled something about checking his ankle if he did not mind and suddenly he was gone.

Having swept the glass aside unceremoniously, he had crouched down and started brushing leftover glass dust from the cheerfully colored socks. Shocked at the sudden, ticklish sensations, Patton laughed in delight and pulled his feet up protectively, hugging his legs to his chest. Logan pulled his hands back abruptly.

“I apologize. May I examine your ankle for additional injuries?” He asked patiently, looking up from the ground at Patton far above him. The little patissier’s breath caught as the humbleness of the gesture sunk in. Logan was literally kneeling before him, keeping his hands loosely folded in his lap as if in prayer. The moment suddenly felt terribly intimate.

Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Patton lowered his feet slowly, wanting the attention the man before him was offering yet feeling oddly bashful. He looked vulnerable like that, settled at his feet as if waiting for a benediction, hopeful and undemanding. Even after Patton had uncurled, he waited for his nod before taking hold of his foot with the utmost care. First, he made sure no glass had caught in the material of his sock before carefully pulling the material down. The air felt cool on his foot in comparison to the warmth of Logan’s hand as he cradled his ankle to avoid moving it after slowly unraveling the bandage that gave him stability. Patton’s breath caught as those long fingers softly brushed over the swollen area.

“I’m sorry. I did not intend to hurt you.” The detective offered immediately, stopping his explorations.

“It’s fine. You’re really- um- really nice about it. Toetally sweet. I am head over heels with how you take care of me!” Patton joked, softly kicking his now neglected feet. He felt good. Fluttery, somehow.

He saw Logan bite back a small smile and allowed himself to enjoy the bright happiness heating his insides. The loving attention seemed to warm his limbs with an exciting sensation washing through him. His friend’s slightly calloused hands closed around his calf to hold him still as he examined his foot, before carefully brushing the back of his fingers over his sole to make sure no glass had cut him or was still stuck to his skin. A shiver ran down Patton’s body that was only partially due to ticklishness. The room had become intimately silent while Logan re-wrapped the still slightly swollen joint.

“You are healing adequately.” He muttered, sounding satisfied. Yet he did not appear to be ready to release Patton. Gently insistent, he made sure to check the other foot for cuts and glass before replacing both socks and even rubbing some warmth into the now a little cool toes tenderly. Patton felt soft.

Logan demanded Patton stay on the counter while he cleaned up the glass, so he kicked his feet softly and watched the unfamiliar scene of having somebody contently clean up for him. Once he was done, he asked for his hand to examine it with a critical glance.

“You should allow your injuries sufficient time to heal to ensure optimal flexibility. Some of your cuts were deep enough to damage the muscle tissue underneath the skin.” The detective complained softly. Despite his criticism, he cradled the smaller hand gently between his own while brushing his thumb over the back soothingly. Patton hunched his shoulders guiltily.

“You’re right, of course. I’m really sorry, Logan. I just get so antsy and then I need to do something, you know? I should have known better, but I have to work whenever you’re not around to take care of me too, so I thought… never mind. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” He asked in a small voice.

“There is no need to apologize, Patton. I have no right to dictate your actions and I did not intend to lecture you.” He appeared to puzzled over a problem for a moment while he gently rubbed the hand in his grasp.

“I would like to help you fulfill your need for productivity. Do you suppose you would still be satisfied if I acted on your behalf? I am not a proficient baker, but I should be able to follow your instructions with reasonable accuracy.”

Patton brightened instantly, immediately taken by the idea.

“You would bake with me? Really? I thought you wanted to go out. You’re dressed for a run...”

“It is of no consequence. Allow me a moment to put my trainers away and wash my hands, then we may proceed according to your wishes.”

Oh, the patissier was awed by the idea. He loved baking with friends, it was such a comfortable thing to do! He just hoped Logan really wouldn’t mind following his instructions or grow bored or irritable. He was such a patient and skillful man, though. What could possibly go wrong?

As it turned out, baking didn’t come as naturally to Logan as it did to Patton. The detective listened respectfully and attentively, but even though he did as the baker asked, somehow, even the most simple things went differently for him than for Patton. Even during his first task, the egg yolks threatened to break and fall into the egg whites as he tried to separate them, which would ruin any chance of creating a solid structure when beating them. They’d only cracked one egg and already three pasty pieces of calcium-white shells were floating in the bowl. Of course Patton would never dare to interrupt Logan’s efforts. He didn’t want to make him feel bad or risk the anger hurt pride so often brought about, yet he itched with the wish to take a hold of his hands and guide them.

Depositing the shells in their bowl, the detective huffed a frustrated sigh and turned to the patissier.

“Patton, would you please help me improve?”

The smaller man brightened like a flower opening in the sunshine. He hadn’t expected Logan to allow him to show him how to do something, much less ask for support. He instantly felt at ease and appreciated. Once again, he was awed by how confident and composed this man was. It was wonderful not to have to fear aggression caused by a feeling of inferiority.

Once Patton knew his aid was appreciated, they worked together so well. Often, he would reach across the counter he was sitting on and direct the older man’s hands to show him the motions he needed or guide his hands so the cherries would be spread uniformly or the cakes would be cut into even layers by turning the plate as he moved the knife through it. Though Logan blushed and was clearly embarrassed at not performing to perfection, he never snapped at Patton or held his interference against him. After a few hours of companionable baking, Logan had proven himself to be grateful for his advice and guidance and had even made him flush with pleasure a few times by complimenting his skills.

The patissier had been floored by the admiration and respect he’d seen in the detective’s eyes as he’d spoken about skills Patton had perfected or the amount of information he could provide about the process of creating textures and flavors. Logan spoke about temperature, chemistry and components reacting to each other but to Patton, it was just experience and feeling and fun. Baking wasn’t hard, was it? Anybody could to it. Yet, as he scooted close to the man he thought could do everything perfectly and gently guided his motions as he evenly spread the cream around the layers of chocolate cake, cream and cherries, he thought perhaps he could be a little more proud of his abilities.

Their eyes met over the cake, causing them both to still. They were very close.

“I learned a lot from you, Patton. Thank you for your patient instructions.” Logan muttered softly, as if he feared disturbing the quiet that had comfortably settled between them.

The smaller man grinned, his face bright with joy. “Aww thank you! I really enjoyed baking with you, you did such a good job! I’m really proud of how well you did and we worked so well together, I really felt we have a confection!”

Both felt warm with affection and appreciation for the other, smiling softly. The silence between them felt comfortable as Patton showed Logan how to place the chocolate shavings at the side of the cake with practiced ease. His flour-dusted curls brushed along the taller man’s chin. The detective slowly reached up, showing his movements clearly, and brushed them back behind the patissier’s ear with deliberate tenderness. Patton’s breath caught. He’d hardly noticed how close they’d become. His thigh was a warm line of contact with Logan’s hip where he leaned against the counter. He felt very warm, suddenly.

His little heart fluttered excitedly as Logan’s dark eyes held contact with his. He was reminded abruptly of how handsome he was with his dark lashes usually half hidden by black-framed glasses and raven hair contrasting sharply with his pale skin. Despite wearing only a t-shirt and close fitting workout pants instead of a suit and tie, his even features made him look distinguished.

Patton shivered with a sudden burst of pleasure as he realized that his pale brown locks were still woven around the others fingers, causing a lovely, lightning-bright sensation when he moved. The detective let the cool strands slip through his hands with a look of wonder on his face, his touch so soft it felt like nothing more than a caress.

After a long moment, Logan smiled. The expression seemed to light up his whole face and soften his eyes. The usually so serious man looked deeply content in a way he hadn’t seen till today. Patton’s heart seemed to miss a beat and a sensation quite like falling made his whole body feel light and giddy.

———-

Please reblog my work, my darlings!

ART:

Have a disheveled Patton in an oversized sweater to make your day better!!!

Keep him safe is now a Meme together with To build a home which is too cool! Thank you @lemon-the-ups-man

And how adorable and surprisingly deep is this image of Patton with a little smile (and a bruise on his cheek, oh no) by @not-safeforsanders

Look at this cool concept for a cover up for Virgil’s tattoo made by @lissaslifestory! Lots of others helped with tips as well. Its really well thought out and there’s even a drawing!

And there is a picture drawn of it that I just found!!! @doctorwhooian made it and it’s lovely!

FICS:

@broadwaytheanimatedseries  did some work on the amazing first chapter of Keep her safe and made it even better!

THEORIES:

I loved this idea about Roman’s father and his reaction to Ro and the issues he and Virgil could face in high society so much, especially because a lot of people pitched in. Have a look if you like!

Next Chapter

#Sanders Sides #Detective AU #Keep him safe