#sub logan

Sitting with everyone else on the dinner table was grating on his nerves, he had things to do and the ache from his jaw was slowly creeping upwards into his temples. It had been a few shitty weeks, with lots of unnecessary and aggravating drama.

He was so tense he could barely eat and he was sure that Patton had a very disapproving eye on him. After dinner, he and Patton were left to deal with the dishes.

“You okay, Lo? Need anything?”

It was an innocuous enough question and would have not been worth a second thought if he hadn’t come from Patton. As it stood Logan was not exactly okay and he almost always <i>needed</i> Patton, in the, you know, metaphysical sense one tends to need the person one loves. 

“I guess not?” Is what he says, instead of the very concrete thing ghosting around his mind, that would probably be incredibly useful and good right now.

“You sure?” Patton asked softly but neutrally, wiping down the table while Logan dried the dishes. He reconsidered. And Patton seemed wholly unperturbed by his silence, going about putting the cutlery away.

It would be a new thing. An intriguing thing. A thing that they had prepared for and Logan was very thankful for Patton's sensible foresight since it had taken them quite a while. He did want, right now, to get a bit out of his head, to relax, to enjoy his evening like any other person. It would cost him just one word and Patton would <i>make him</i> enjoy his evening like, maybe not, every other person.

Logan exhaled deeply, putting the last stack of dishes away. “Snowflake.”

He turned slowly to face his partner, now Dom, he guessed and Patton’s smile was patrically lighting up the dim kitchen. He stepped close, right into Logan's personal space to kiss him gently, both hands on his jaw, open-mouthed and gliding tongues. That was from zero to hundred real quick and it left Logan's head spinning a little but Patton was not letting go even after their lips parted. 

“Perfect.” Patton breathed, “Get upstairs, my room, undress. I’m with you in a second.”

Logan felt a little breathless, shaking his head to clear it, then nodding it to indicate that he had understood but Patton still was not letting go of his face.

“I can’t hear you, Lo.” Patton said sweetly, smiling a little when confronted with the visible confusion on Logan's face before understanding was taking over.

“Yes, Patton.” he simply said, getting rewarded by another peck and being released.

He was fast about his task, sprinting upstairs getting out of his clothes, shivering a little when newly naked. It wasn’t cold in Patton's room, it never was, and the newly installed fairy lights gave everything an even softer, warmer glow. So probably just nerves on his part. He wondered if it was okay to sit on the bed? 

“Hey love, here I am.” Patton interrupted his thoughts, putting a small basket down by the desk before coming over, “Perfect, very good. Please lie down, face down.”

Logan did, listening intently to Patton rustling around for a few more minutes before the bed dipped next to him and he turned his face to the side. He already felt weirdly calm and anticipatory at the same time. This was working better then he had hoped, and nothing had actually happened yet.

Pattons hand stroked down his back and ass with even pressure, almost massaging but not quite. “Okay. Something simple for today, yeah. As a first and also because you should actually take advantage after and sleep as much as you can. Remember your safewords?”

Logan nodded again, knowing his safewords and knowing what something simple meant, before remembering and almost tripping over his words to correct. “Y-es, Patton.” he turned his face back into the comforter and concentrated on breathing evenly. He knew Patton was smiling, maybe even laughing a little, even though he was out of sight, and that pleased him on a level he frustratingly struggled to explain.

The first few hits on his ass and thighs were startling and louder than he had imagined. Also he could see it potentially be humiliating, in some different setting. But it was not hurting in the way he had been prepared for, or maybe hoped for.

But then Patton checked in, placed a warm splayed hand between his shoulder blades and established a downright hypnotic rhythm. And it did fucking hurt after a few minutes. Logan could hear his own ragged breathing, his fingers were gripping the pillow like a lifeline, and there was sweat beading down his neck, his whole back a slippery plain. 

Patton checked in again and Logan was flabbergasted when he almost choked out his <i>green</i> with an accompanying sob. “Fuck, fuck- I..?”

“You’re okay, Logan, love. You can just relax, c’mon. You’re doing great. How’s your head?” Patton murmured softly, brushing a hand through Logan's sweaty hair but not waiting for the answer.

Logan's revelation that his head was indeed fantastic, that he wasn’t thinking, that his mouth was open slightly, relaxed and his tongue not pressed to the roof of his mouth was drowned out by Patton resuming his steady obliteration.

They stopped eventually. But Logan had a whole lot of difficulties sorting out his sense of time or anything really. So he let it be. The sweat, starting to rapidly cool him down, was very gently wiped away, whispering praise that Logan didn’t need to examine too closely a soothing background noise while he was floating a bit. Cool balm on his hot skin. He would feel this tomorrow, and wasn’t that wonderful?

Maybe directly after, maybe after some time he was cradled into his boyfriend's arms, leaning against his chest. A cute kiss. Patton always did cute kisses. Sometimes filthy, but always kinda cute. Logan giggled.

“Hey there you...feeling good Lo?”

“Yes, Patton.” Logan croaked a bit, but he couldn’t care less.

Patton pressed a bottle of cool water into his kinda numb fingers and made him drink a considerable amount.

“Need something else, love?” Patton asked again. But Logan didn’t. This was pretty neat, he felt a little more aware now but still bone tired and in the perfect state to fall asleep.

“No, perfect.”

“Oh? Would it be better if I dressed the part?” Roman straightened, and before Logan could ask what on earth he was insinuating, the creative side snapped his fingers. A pink cloud of dust raveled around Roman, erasing him from sight for a few moments. Ugh, Logan hated these florid acts of drama, Roman was so—so…him?

Logan blinked at the sight before him, trying to rearrange his thoughts into something more coherent. Roman was still obviously himself, the fiery glow of his eyes ever present, but he was certainly dressed different. The dark shirt, the tie, the glasses, he…he looked like Logan. He looked like a teacher. “How’s this, teach? Am I more “presentable” now?” Roman asked, quoting his fingers as he did a little twirl, making the tie whip around.

Logan’s face was flushing, turning a warm pink. “I…I didn’t…” Logan stuttered, failing to grasp the beginning of his sentence. Roman cocked a groomed brow, looking Logan up and down. “You aren’t…fit for that,” Logan finally stammered.

A slow grin spread across Roman’s face, cogs turning. “Oh, but don’t I look good?” he said, tugging on his tie. Logan’s eyes lowered down to the article, then flickered back to Roman’s face. Logan cleared his throat, reaching up to cover his mouth.

“Being a teacher is not a joke,” Logan said. Roman huffed and put a hand on his hip, looking every bit like an annoyed teacher about to lecture a student. Logan suddenly felt quite small.

“Don’t talk back to me, Logan,” Roman spoke firmly, and Logan swallowed. Oh. That was…different. Roman smirked at the silence that ensued and sauntered forward. Logan took a step back for every that Roman took forward, but sadly, the wall was only a few short paces behind him, blocking an easy getaway. Roman grabbed his tie and fluttered the end against Logan’s nose.

“You actually like this, don’t you, four-eyes?” Roman asked, which Logan found ironic, considering Roman’s costume…but Roman probably didn’t understand irony. “Come on, don’t lie to me. Deception is so unbecoming of you,” Roman tisked, bringing out the big guns. He knew big words, too. Some of them.

Logan cut his eyes to the side. “I’ve nothing to prove to you,” Logan muttered. Roman grinned, untying his tie and looping it around Logan’s shoulders.

“Of course not, darling.” With that, Roman pulled the tie forward, dragging Logan into a kiss that shut up any more arguing. Delivering a nip to Logan’s lip, Roman pulled back slightly. “Why don’t I fuck you over a desk, really paint the picture, mh?”