#heeeeeh

Logicality one shot

Background prinxiety

My Roaring 20’s au

Lots of people wanted me to do a tango scene between Patton and Logan, so I decided to switch it up and attempt this! There will be art later.

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means a writer, so please don’t judge too harshly. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

————————————————————

The energy in the room was electric. The speakeasy was overflowing with people adorned with bright expressions, practically glowing in anticipation of the upcoming performances.

It was tango night, and the beloved Patton Ross was performing.

Logan couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of envy towards Patton’s dance partner. A random man, hired to complete the set. A random man that got to dance with Patton. Despite this, he pushed the feeling down. He was just excited to witness the pure joy that came with every performance. No matter what dance Patton chose, he always looked as though he could dance forever, and be perfectly content. For this reason, he had reserved the best seat in the house, placed right next to the backstage area’s entrance. Roman had been with him of course, but after Virgil Brooke’s angelic performance, he’d wandered off to try to flirt with the bartender. (It rarely worked seeing as Virgil would beat him to the punch, leaving Roman a flustered mess.) Logan allowed himself a small smile. It quickly faded as he heard muffled sobs coming from behind the backstage door.

I shouldn’t intrude, he thought, but he found he was already opening the door. So much for that.

“Hello? Are you alright? I don’t mean to intrude, I just-“

The words died in his throat as he took in Patton- sweet, beautiful Patton- shaking, with tear stained cheeks, a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs.

“Mr. Ross?”

The man in question jumped and turned, wide eyed, lowering his hand to clutch over his heart.

“Oh gosh sir! You scared me!” He laughed, quickly brushing away his tears. “Whatcha need?” he asked, offering a bright smile.

“I could ask you the same question.”

Patton’s smile faltered.

“Oh it’s nothing sir! Just my own silly problem. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Logan eyed him skeptically. Patton looked... heartbroken.

“I apologize, but I cannot help but worry.” He tentatively sat beside Patton, searching for the right thing to say. He settled for: “Would you like to talk about it?”

Patton’s eyes welled with tears again, and for a moment Logan thought he’d said something wrong, but Patton quickly nodded his head.

“I- my dancing partner left, saying he wouldn’t dance with a t-tramp like me, and I... I just don’t know what to do. All of those people out there are expecting the tango, but I can’t do that without a partner and I-“ His words died off, and he hid his face in his hands. Meanwhile, Logan’s blood boiled, and he shook with anger. This would not stand, and he’d be damned if he was going to let this go. He was tempted to ask the mans name, but he decided against it. Later perhaps. Instead, he offered a solution.

“I can be your partner.”

Patton blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I can be your partner,” Logan repeated. “I happen to be decently skilled at tangoing... and I would enjoy having the opportunity to dance with you. That is, if you’ll have me.”

Patton beamed. “You’d... you’d do that?”

“Indeed.”

And suddenly Logan was enveloped in a surprisingly strong embrace.

“Thank you so much!”

Cheeks burning, he tentatively returned the hug with a small smile.

“Oh my goodness!” Patton jumped up, pulling Logan to the dressing rooms. “We have to get you ready!” Patton paused for a moment and turned back to Logan. “And please, call me Patton.

———————

5 minutes to curtain.

Patton came out of his dressing room wearing his favorite red dancing dress, with a slit going up to mid thigh (for mobility). After a moment his new dance partner emerged, and Patton could not for the life of him remember how to speak. He could barely remember how to breathe. This man was so. Painfully. Handsome.

“Hello Patton. You look quite fetching.”

“T-Thank you. So do you,” Patton managed. He quickly glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh gosh! It’s already almost curtain!”

Right on cue, they heard the announcer take the stage, and Patton took a breath.

Showtime.

Patton tried and failed to keep his hands from shaking. He’s never danced with someone so handsome or kind before. All of his dance partners in the past were stiff, rude, and wanted nothing to do with him after the performance. It was a refreshing change of pace to be able to dance with... this.. one.

Patton mentally smacked himself for failing to catch the man’s name. He’d hopefully be able to ask him later.

He feels the taller man shift behind him, and he turns to face him. “Ready?”

The man nods, and Patton takes him by the hand, leading him past the curtain.

The moment they step onstage, the audience roars with applause, accompanied by hoops and hollers.

The cheers die down as the music swells.

And they take off.

The two men become a whirlwind of twirls and lifts, dips and throws, passionate and precise. As they approach the final dip, Patton can feel his heart racing with a kind of electricity he hadn’t felt for years. Twirl, throw, catch, and-

As the taller man dipped him, Patton found himself grabbing him by the lapels and leaning up to plant a gentle, tentative kiss to his lips. He pulled back wide eyed, locking gazes with his dance partner, whose equally wide eyes were unreadable.

Patton quickly began to apologize. “I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have- I don’t even know your name, I-“

“Logan.”

“I- what?”

“My name is Logan.”

And without another word, Logan cradled Patton’s face and gave him the sweetest, gentlest kiss he’d ever been given. Patton’s eyes fluttered shut and he melted into it, arms wrapping around Logan’s neck. He felt as though he could stay forever in that moment, his heart filled with a glowing warmth-

ah yes, the one request I didnt send fizz

here is part one

also hi fizz, babe, this is your other christmas present ;       )

_________

am I just a monster in a cage?

ship: I guess ralbert

genre: angst with no happy ending

warnings: implied past sex and abuse and prostitution, going insane, mental breakdown, very raw emotions

editing: minimal

words: 479

_________

Race sobbed into the deafening quiet, overwhelmed and upset with his actions. 

Why was he like this?

No.

Why was he still like this?

Why did this matter to him?

Why did he look for approval in other people?

Why did he still have to feel things?

Why couldn’t be just learn to control his damn emotions already?

Why had his inner monster been unleashed?

Another sob ripped through Race’s throat, sounding like a caged animal, yearning for freedom.

Ah, yes, freedom: The thing that was always one foot above ground when he was buried six feet under.

Freedom was a trick, a deception of the mond: as soon as you thought you had it, it was gone, disappearing through the cracks of your fingers and into the life of the next longing person.

Why did freedom still choose to fight him?

Why?

Why?

He was supposed to be better now, unbroken and tough, hardened by his experiences; yet, one person had the capability of breaking through all his carefully constructed walls in one fateful night.

In the spur of the moment he had given him everything he had: himself.

Hell, he could still see his shining eyes, feel his thick red hair, hear his cute little moans, taste the salt on his skin, smell his drugstore cologne.

And what had it been worth?

A mere few fleeting moments of happiness had cost him his sanity.

The storm was awake now.

The fear was alive.

The only thing he could feel now.

Race looked at his bruised wrist, bathing in a soothing bath of his own tears.

The pain had faded hours ago, but the feeling, the contact, the loud smack! still rang in his ears.

The confusion in his eyes.

How did he not see that he was hurting him?

The very person who, mere minutes before, was holding him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.

The very person who, mere minutes before, had told him he was the most beautiful thing in the world in the most luxurious, deeply captivating voice he’d ever heard.

And then his lips were on someone else’s.

And someone else was calling him baby.

He was supposed to be kissing him.

He was supposed to be calling him baby.

And what did he get instead?

A smack.

A harsh voice.

A flashback.

A head full of regret.

A frozen heart.

A monster trapped inside himself.

The monster screamed.

Race felt his throat tear in half.

His tears soaked his newly sprouted mane.

His mind fought with what was real and what was fake.

He covered his ears.

The monster was no longer trapped in a cage.

He was the monster.

Hardened by his experiences.

Emotionless from feeling too much emotion.

Raging like the beast inside him.

Why was he like this?

No.

Why was he still like this?

_________

okay so thats what happened to race

also this took me months to plan ahhhh

and yet I wrote it in an hour

fizz I hope you liked eeeeee merry belated christmas baby

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the taglist and If you rb make sure you comment

Jumin x MC Week

Day Five: Memories

10/2/17

Jumin and MC reminisce the weekend before their wedding.

Word Count: 1535