#also mikes younger sister. abby. right. of course. abby. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lefteagleblizzard · 3 months

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𝔚𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰

Protective Mike Schmidt x gn reader

Summary: You met Mike on an overcast Wednesday afternoon. The rain pelted the windows of the small café where you worked, creating a rhythmic background to the dull hum of conversation and the clinking of cups and saucers. Your bond grew stronger the more you got the know each other's, like ivy clinging to an old stone wall.

Warnings: no pronouns used towards the reader. Protective Mike. If you squint we could even say obsessed Mike. Near death experience. Taking care of Abby with Mike. Stranger to friends to lovers. Smut.

Words count: almost 6000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

You met Mike on an overcast Wednesday afternoon. The rain pelted the windows of the small café where you worked, creating a rhythmic background to the dull hum of conversation and the clinking of cups and saucers.

He looked out of place when he walked in, his rugged demeanor contrasting sharply with the cozy, quaint atmosphere. He wore a heavy jacket, dark jeans, and an expression that spoke of burdens too heavy for one man to carry alone.

He ordered a black coffee and sat at a corner table, his eyes scanning the room but seeing nothing.

It wasn't long before you noticed that he came in every day at the same time, always sitting in the same spot. Curiosity got the better of you, and one day, you decided to strike up a conversation.

You found out that Mike was working nights as a security guard at a place called Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. The job, he admitted, wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills, which was all that mattered since he was taking care of his younger sister, Abby, by himself.

There was something about Mike that drew you in maybe it was the way he seemed so protective of Abby, or perhaps it was the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide beneath his tough exterior. Either way, you found yourself looking forward to his visits, and soon, your conversations became the highlight of your day.

Mike's presence had a way of grounding you, his deep voice soothing even when he spoke of mundane things. You began to learn about his past, the weight of responsibility that came with raising Abby alone, and the tragedy that had carved deep lines into his handsome face. Each revelation was like peeling back a layer of armor, revealing the heart of a man who cared deeply, even if he tried to hide it.

You became closer over time. He would come to visit and you'd be there to keep him company while he, in exchange, would offer you a change of breath from the monotonous hours at work.

However, your meetings didn't just stop at your workplace.

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It was a chilly evening when you received Mike's call, his voice laced with evident worry "Abby's got a fever. I don't know what to do. She's burning up." he said

Mike was always so strong, but when it came to Abby, his protective nature made him vulnerable. "I'll be right over" you promised, already grabbing your coat and some medicine from your cabinet

When you arrived at Mike's modest apartment, he was waiting at the door, his expression filled with worry. "Thank you for coming," he said, his voice tense.

"Of course," you replied, stepping inside. The apartment was small but cozy, filled with signs of Abby's presence with her drawings on the fridge, toys scattered around the living room. You followed Mike to Abby's room, where the little girl lay in bed, her face flushed with fever.

"I brought you this Abby" you said softly, sitting beside her and brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

Abby managed a weak smile. "Thank you" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

You handed her the medicine, helping her take it. "This will help bring your fever down," you assured her.

Mike watched, his expression a mix of gratitude and helplessness. "I've tried everything," he said quietly. "Cold compresses, keeping her hydrated... nothing seems to work."

"Sometimes it just takes a little time" you said gently. "But we'll take care of her together."

For the next few hours, you and Mike worked side by side to make Abby comfortable. You alternated between placing cool washcloths on her forehead and reading her favorite stories to keep her spirits up. Mike fetched water and checked her temperature regularly, his concern never wavering.

As the evening turned into night, Abby finally began to show signs of improvement. Her fever started and she drifted into You and Mike sat to break, in the living room, the tension casing slightly

"Thank you" Mike said, his voice breaking the silence. "I don't know what I'd do without you.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "You're doing a great job, Mike. Abby's lucky to have you."

He shook his head, his expression serious. "No, I'm lucky to have you."

You reached out, taking his hand. "We're in this together. Abby's like family to me now."

Mike's eyes softened, and for a moment, he seemed to let go of his usual guarded demeanor. You squeezed his hand, feeling a deep connection between you.

As the night went on, you stayed by Abby's side, keeping a watchful eye on her. Mike eventually fell asleep in the chair beside her bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You couldn't help but admire his dedication and love for his sister.

In the quiet of the night, with Abby's fever subsiding and Mike resting peacefully, you felt a sense of contentment. This was what family was about: being there for each other in times of need, supporting one another through the challenges of life.

When morning came, Abby woke up feeling much better. She greeted you with a bright smile. "I feel a lot better," she said, her voice stronger.

You smiled back, relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Abby."

Mike stirred, waking up to see Abby's improved condition, "How are you feeling, kiddo?" he asked, his voice filled with affection

"Much better" Abby replied, reaching out to hug him. "Thanks to you and your friend."

Mike glanced at you, his eyes conveying more than words ever could. "Thank you," he said softly, his gratitude overwhelming

As you left Mike's apartment that morning, a warm sensation spread through your chest. Your bond had grown stronger through the night, and you felt a deep sense of belonging with them.

There was something that happened later on that brought the two of you even closer, his behavior shifted, showed mostly in his actions.

Mike had just finished his grueling night shift at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, and you were wrapping up your own unexpected night shift at the café. One of your coworkers had called in sick, and you'd offered to take their place, not knowing that the night would take such a turn. Exhausted but relieved to finally be done, you stepped out into the cool carly morning air, your phone buzzing in your pocket.

"Hey," Mike's voice came through the line, a comforting sound amidst the quiet street. "I'm done for the night. How about you?"

"Just finished," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. "Want to meet up?"

"I'll be there in five," he said without hesitation.

True to his word, Mike arrived a few minutes later, his rugged appearance softened by the warmth in his eyes as he spotted you. "You look tired," he said, his tone gentle

"Long night" you admitted. "But seeing you makes it better."

The corner of his lips moved up, a rare and beautiful sight. "Come on, let's go for a walk. Clear our heads."

You fell into step beside him, the two of you wandering aimlessly through the quiet streets. The early morning light cast a soft glow over everything, and for a while, you simply talked about anything and everything that came to mind. It was a moment of peace, a chance to forget the night's horrors and just be together.

"I've never seen you so eager to stay awake like that" you remarked, glancing up at him.

"Maybe it's because of you" he said, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

You decided to walk a little more, trying to shake off the lingering tension. The quiet streets were starting to come to life with carly risers and the first hints of morning activity. You and Mike chatted about everything and nothing, the fatigue making your thoughts more whimsical.

"What's the first thing you'll do when you get home?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Mike pondered for a moment. "Probably make breakfast for Abby. She loves pancakes."

You smiled, picturing the scene. "I bet she's going to love that."

Mike glanced at you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "What about you? Any plans for the day?"

"Sleep" you replied with a laugh. "Definitely sleep."

Mike chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Sounds like a good plan."

As you walked, you spotted a street lamp up ahead. A playful idea struck you, and you turned to Mike with a grin. "Race you to that pole" you challenged. "First one there wins."

Mike raised an eyebrow, his fatigue evident but his competitive spirit still alive. "You're on."

With a laugh, you took off, your legs carrying you forward as fast as they could. Mike was right behind you, his footsteps pounding against the pavement. The cool morning air rushed past your face, and for a moment, you felt completely free.

You reached the pole first, turning around triumphantly. "I win!" you called out, breathless and exhilarated.

Mike was a few steps behind, slowing down and eventually stopping a few yards away, panting heavily. He bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Despite his fatigue, he looked up at you, and for the first time, you saw him smile a genuine, heartfelt smile that lit up his entire face.

Seeing him smile like that made your heart swell with happiness. "I can't believe you gave up." you teased, walking back towards him. "Not as tough as you look, huh?"

Mike straightened up, still smiling. "I guess I underestimated you" he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Maybe next time you'll know better."

But as you shared this moment of joy, you noticed Mike's expression change, his smile fading into a look of horror.

You followed his gaze, turning just in time to see the car barreling down the street, heading straight for the sidewalk where you stood. The driver, clearly drunk, seemed to lose control completely.

"Move!" Mike shouted, his voice filled with panic. He lunged forward, grabbing you and pulling you out of the way just in time. The car swerved onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing you both before crashing into a fence with a deafening crash.

You fell to the ground, Mike's arms still around you, protecting you from the impact. The world seemed to slow down, the sounds of the crash fading into the background as you tried to process what had just happened, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Are you okay?" Mike's voice broke through the haze, his hands frantically checking you for injuries.

"I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice shaking. "Just... a bit shaken."

Mike's face was pale, his eyes wide with fear. "I thought... I thought I lost you" he whispered, pulling you into a tight embrace. You clung to him, the reality of how close you'd come to being hit sinking in.

Before you knew it, an ambulance had arrived, the flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the scene. Paramedics ushered you into the vehicle, insisting on checking you for injuries. Mike climbed in right beside you, refusing to leave your side.

"Sir, you'll have to wait outside," one of the paramedics said, but Mike shook his head, his expression resolute

"I'm not leaving" he said firmly, his eyes never leaving you.

The paramedics exchanged a look but relented, allowing Mike to stay. He hovered over you, his concern palpable. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his hands gently checking for any signs of injury.

"I'm fine" you reassured him, though your voice was still shaky. "Thanks to you."

Mike's jaw tightened, and you could see the fear lingering in his eyes.

"You could've died" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

He stayed close, his presence a comforting anchor as the paramedics finished their examination. "Just a few scrapes and bruises" they told you. "You're lucky.

Mike let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Yeah," he said softly. "Very lucky."

As the ambulance pulled away, leaving the wreckage behind, you leaned into Mike, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Despite the scare, there was a sense of safety in his arms, a feeling that everything would be okay as long as he was there.

"Want to go home?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike's grip tightened slightly, his gaze intense. "Just another second..." he replied. "Sure."

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He watched you from his car as you made your way to your own house, turning back to say goodbye to him one last time. The shadows of the evening wrapping around you like a cloak.

You had no idea how much you had come to mean to him.

What he saw today made him remember again how it takes a fraction of a second to lose someone forever.

It wasn't just affection that bound him to you; it was an almost primal urge, an instinct that had rooted itself deep within his soul.

The idea of anyone or anything hurting you or Abby was unbearable, a thought that clawed at his sanity.

He knew it wasn't entirely rational, this need to protect you and Abby at all costs, but it had become his purpose, his reason.

You were both his light in the darkness, and he would ensure that light never faded.

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︎The cafe was bustling with its usual morning crowd the steady hum of conversation mixing with the slinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. You were behind the counter, trying to keep up with the increasing number of orders. It was a typical day, or so you thought, until a particularly rude customer walked in.

He was tall and imposing, his face set in a a scowl as he approached the counter and, his tone dripping with impatience "I need a large black coffee."

You forced a polite smile, despite the unease settling in your stomach. "Of course, sir. It will be ready in just a moment"

As you prepared the coffee, the customer tapped his fingers on the counter "Is it always this slow here?" He muttered loud enough for you to hear, his irritation growing

"I'm sorry for the wait" you replied, keeping your tone as calm and professional as possible. "We're a bit busy this morning"

The customer hufted, rolling his eyes. When you finally handed him his coffee, he reached out and grabbed your arm tightly, his grip painful "Maybe if you moved faster, people wouldn't have to wait so long" he snarled.

Before you could pour the hot coffee on the face of this asshole and potentially lose your job, you heard a familiar voice behind him, filled with barely restrained anger "Let go"

Mike stood there, his eyes blazing with fury. He had just come in to visit you, and seeing the man manhandle you had flipped a switch. His hand closed over the customer's wrist, his grip like iron.

"Let go" Mike said, his voice low and dangerous.

The customer looked at him, sneering, but the look in Mike's eyes made him think twice. He released your arm and backed away, muttering curses under their breath. Mike didn't let go until the man was out the door, and even then, he staved close by, making sure you were all right.

His presence was intimidating, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive

The entire café had fallen silent, all eyes on the scene that had just unfolded.

You took a shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Mike, you didn't have to"

He turned to you, his expression softening as he took your hands in his. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern

You nodded, feeling the tension slowly disappear. "I'm fine, really.

Mike sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly, "I just... I couldn't stand seeing him treat you like that."

You gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Mike. He deserved it."

He still looked troubled, his protective instincts clearly warring with his concern for your well-being "I might have overreacted" he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"You didn't." you assured him. "I appreciate what you did."

Mike nodded, though you could see the tension still lingering in his eyes. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you."

You reached out, touching his arm gently. "And nothing did, thanks to you."

The café slowly returned to its usual bustle, the other customers resuming their conversations and the baristas getting back to their work. You and Mike moved to a corner table, needing a moment to decompress after the confrontation.

"How often does stuff like that happen?" Mike asked, his worry evident.

"Not often" you replied, taking a sip of water. "Most customers are really nice and every now and then, you get someone like that."

Mike's jaw tightened. "Next time, just call me. I'll be here in a heartbeat."

"I know you will. But I can handle it. I have to, for my job."

He sighed, nodding reluctantly.

As the day wore on, you found comfort in Mike's presence. He stayed with you for the rest of your shift, his protective gaze never starving far.

When things got busy, he even helped out, taking orders and delivering drinks with a natural ease that impressed your coworkers. They'd heard about the incident and were quietly thankful for his presence, giving you nods of approval and knowing smiles.

Once your shift finally ended. Mike was right there, waiting to walk you home. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the city. You both strolled along the sidewalk, the tension of the morning slowly dissipating.

"You really didn't have to stay the whole time," you said, glancing up at him.

"I wanted to," Mike replied simply. "I couldn't leave you after what happened."

You smiled, touched by his dedication. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

Mike chuckled, a sound that made you feel light inside. "I try."

His protectiveness extended into the smallest aspects of your life. When you cut your finger while slicing fruits one evening, he was beside you with worry and carefully bandaged your finger in the back of the kitchen. You couldn't help but smile at his overreaction to such a minor injury.

"Mike, it's just a little cut," you teased gently.

"I know," he muttered, not meeting your eyes. "But I needs to be treated either way"

Another time, you got caught in a sudden storm. Mike had come to pick you up after your shift, and as you both hurried to his car, he used his jacket to shield you from the rain, despite your protests.

"Mike, you're going to get soaked!" you exclaimed

"Doesn't matter," he replied, his tone unwavering. "You could get sick"

His selfless actions spoke volumes about his feelings for you, even if he didn't realize it himself.

Mike's protectiveness was an intrinsic part of who he was. He couldn't turn it off, even in the most mundane situations.

You noticed it in the way he always walked on the outer side of the sidewalk, subtly placing himself

between you and the traffic.

Or the time when a simple grocery run turned into a mini adventure because he insisted on carrying all the heavy bags, not wanting you to strain yourself.

It was these little things that made you fall deeper in love with him. His actions, though often silent, spoke volumes about the depth of his care and concern for you. He might not have been the most eloquent with words, but his deeds left no doubt about his feelings.

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It was a few weeks later that Mike invited you to the pizzeria. He had picked up an extra shift and needed someone to keep him company during the long, lonely hours of the night. Despite the creepy reputation of the place, you agreed, intrigued by the stories Mike had told you and eager to spend more time with him.

When you arrived at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, the first thing you noticed was how different it looked from the outside compared to the cheerful advertisements. The building was old and worn, the paint peeling off the walls, and the sign flickering intermittently: Mike met you at the entrance, his expression softening when he saw you.

"Glad you made it," he said, his voice low but warm.

Inside, the pizzeria was dark and musty. The animatronics, which were the main attraction during the day, looked creepy in the dim light, their glassy eyes seeming to follow you as you walked past. Mike led you to his office, a small, cramped room filled with monitors and security equipment.

"This is where I spend most of my nights," he explained, gesturing to the screens. "It's not much, but it's got everything everything I need to keep an eye on things.

As the night wore on, you talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughter amidst the unsettling surroundings. It was in those quiet moments, when the only sound was the hum of the monitors, that you felt a connection with Mike that went beyond friendship.

At Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, things took a darker turn. The animatronics had a sinister reputation, and the atmosphere of the place left you on edge.

The lights flickered, and strange noises echoed through the halls. Mike insisted you stay in the security office with him, away from the dangers lurking in the night . The tension in the air grew thick.

When the animatronics came too close for comfort, Mike stood his ground, making sure they couldn't reach you.

"Just stay close" he said, his eyes never leaving the monitors.

The power went out completely, the animatronics seemed to come alive, their eyes glowing ominously. You clung to Mike, your fear palpable, but he remained calm, guiding you through the darkness with a steady hand.

"We'll get through this," he whispered, his voice a beacon of hope.

Foxy managed to corner you in a narrow hallway. Panic surged through you as the animatronic's eyes locked onto yours. But then Mike was there, pulling you to safety with seconds to spare.

He led you through the darkened halls, using his knowledge of the pizzeria's layout to outmaneuver the mechanical threats. When Freddy himself blocked your path, Mike confronted the towering figure.

"Run!" he shouted, distracting Freddy long enough for you to escape. You hesitated when you saw that animatronic approaching him, fearing the worst. The lights flickered back on and a half-cut cable caught your gaze with the sparks that came out of it. Your heart raced as you grabbed the cable and sprinted towards the animatronic, 'stabbing' it with the cable and seeing it twitch from the electricity that spread through it's body before collapsing on the floor.

You made your way to the exit, the sounds of the animatronics fading behind you.

Outside, the cool morning air greeted you, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. Mike emerged moments later, his clothes torn but his spirit unbroken. He pulled you into a tight embrace, relief washing over you both.

As the sun rose, casting a new day in warm light, you and Mike stood together, hand in hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear and relief.

You nodded, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Your eyes roamed over his body in search of any possible injury.

He was willing to sacrifice himself for you

Mike's arms around you were a fortress, shielding you from the horrors of the night.

One weekend, you spent the afternoon at Mike's apartment, playing with Abby. Her laughter filled the room as you engaged in a lively game of hide and seek. Mike watched from the doorway, a rare smile spreading across his face. He was mesmerized by the sight of you and Abby together, feeling a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt in years

"Mike, you're staring!" Abby's voice broke through his reverie, her eyes twinkling with mischief

Mike flushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Just making sure you two are playing fair" he grumbled, his attempt at nonchalance not fooling anyone.

Watching her play, Mike's eyes softened, filled with a mixture of pride and happiness. You and Abby were snickering together, and Mike felt a surge of contentment.

He couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

The evening was now calm and quiet, with a soft breeze wafting through the open windows. Abby had fallen asleep in her room, her gentle breathing a soothing backdrop to the tranquil night.

You and Mike were sitting on the couch in the living room, the dim light of a lamp casting a warm glow around the room.

the sense of companionship between you felt stronger than ever.

"It's nice to just relax like this," Mike said, his voice low and content. He stretched his legs out, leaning back against the couch cushions.

"Yeah, it is," you agreed, smiling at him. "Today was perfect."

Mike's eyes met yours, and he returned your smile, a genuine warmth in his gaze. "I'm glad you think so. I really enjoyed spending the day with you."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only close friends-or perhaps something more-could share. The flickering shadows on the walls and the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen added to the serene ambiance.

"You know" Mike began, his voice thoughtful, "I don't think I've ever felt this... at ease with someone before."

You looked at him, surprised but touched by his admission. "Really? Not even with anyone from your past?"

Mike shook his head, a shadow crossing his features for a moment. "No, not like this. It's different with you. I feel like I can be myself."

His words made your heart swell with emotion. "I feel the same way, Mike. Being with you just feels... right."

He smiled again, a soft, almost shy smile. "I'm glad to hear that."

You continued to talk, your voices low to avoid waking Abby. The conversation flowed easily, moving from light-hearted topics to deeper, more personal ones. You shared stories from your past, dreams for the future, and everything in between. The bond between you seemed to grow with every word, every shared laugh, and every silent moment of understanding.

The conversation turned to Abby and Mike's dedication to her. "You're such a great brother to Abby," you said sincerely. "She's lucky to have you."

Mike's expression softened. "I just want to make sure she has a good life, better than what I had. She's been through a lot, and I want to protect her from the world."

"And you're doing an amazing job" you assured him. "She's a happy, healthy kid because of you."

Mike looked down at his hands. "I couldn't have done it without you. You've been such a support for both of us."

"Anytime," you replied, feeling a deep sense of connection. "We're in this together, remember?"

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours again. "Yeah, we are."

As the night wore on, you found yourselves growing more comfortable, more relaxed. Mike leaned back on the couch, and you instinctively moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn't hesitate, wrapping an arm around you in a gentle, protective embrace.

The simple act of being close to him felt incredibly comforting. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing. It was a moment of perfect peace, the world outside forgotten as you shared this intimate space.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with you. You stifled a yawn, and Mike noticed, a tender smile playing on his lips. "You should get some rest" he said softly.

You nodded, reluctantly pulling away from his comforting embrace. "Yeah, I guess I should."

Mike stood up and offered you a hand, helping you to your feet. "Thank you for spending the day with me. It meant a lot."

A silent understanding passed between you and Mike, unspoken yet profoundly felt. You both moved closer, your bodies naturally gravitating towards one another. The space between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by an electric intimacy that neither of you could ignore.

Mike's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gentle yet firm grasp. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and desire.

His other hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with emotion, a merging of two souls who had found solace in each other's presence.

The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into him, every barrier you had ever put up crumbling away. You moved closer, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you intensifying. Mike's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace as if he never wanted to let go.

You found yourselves moving towards his bedroom, the path familiar yet new in this context. Every step felt like a dance, a silent symphony of mutual need and affection. By the time you reached his room, there was no turning back. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing the moment in privacy

The room was bathed in a gentle glow from a bedside lamp, casting soft shadows on the walls. You both paused for a moment, taking in the gravity of what was about to happen. Mike's eyes met yours, and in that gaze, you saw everything-his love, his desire, his unwavering commitment.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice gentle, giving you one last chance to reconsider.

You nodded, feeling a profound sense of rightness. "I'm sure."

With that, the last of your reservations melted away. Mike's hands moved to your shoulders, slowly sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. You responded in kind, your fingers tracing the contours of his back, feeling the strength and warmth of his body.

As the dawn light casts a gentle glow across the room, you and Mike lie entwined, each movement deliberate and tender. The night had been a journey of exploration and connection, and now, in the quiet morning, the memory of your actions remains vivid and profound.

Your bodies had moved together with an unspoken understanding, each touch and kiss a communication of deep, unrestrained emotion. As the moments unfolded, your hands had traced the contours of each other's bodies, mapping out the planes and curves with a reverence born of newfound intimacy.

Mike's lips had traveled along the line of your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck, each kiss a promise of his affection and desire. His hands, strong yet gentle, had roamed over your body, learning every dip and rise, every sensitive spot that elicited a sigh or a gasp from you. His touch was both exploratory and worshipful, a blend of curiosity and deep-seated reverence.

You had mirrored his actions, your fingers gliding over the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. Your lips had found their way to his chest, your kisses soft and lingering as you explored the terrain of his skin. Every touch, every caress, had been a dance of mutual discovery, a testament to the deep connection growing between you.

He kisses down your chest, leaving little trails of red spots and taking your nipples into his mouth for a minute each causing you to arch off the bed a bit.

But he doesn't linger and is quick to trail down to your thighs, leaving little bites here and there.

As the night deepened, your bodies had come together in a union both physical and emotional.

He goes slow, deep long strokes that you can feel in your kidney with how deep he goes, but you can't find it in you to complain, not when Mike is looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky.

Not when he can feel Mike's lips on you, kissing you like his life depends on it, like you are his salvation.

Not when all the sweet words Mike mutters along your skin, like prayers, are going straight to your spine.

Not when you feel Mike's arms around you, like he's afraid that any wrong move would break you, whispering your name urgently like he's afraid you would disappear.

Mike's movements had been guided by a combination of tenderness and fervent need, each thrust a blend of passion and care. Your bodies had moved in harmony, each responding to the other's cues, creating a rhythm that was both primal and deeply intimate.

The sensations had built to a crescendo, each touch, each kiss, driving you both closer to the edge. Mike's hands had held you close, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze, a silent testament to the depth of his feelings. Your breaths had mingled, your heartbeats synchronized, each moment a step closer to a shared climax.

When the final moment had arrived, it had been a release both physical and emotional. Your bodies had shuddered in unison, the culmination of your passion a powerful testament to the bond you had forged. In the aftermath, as your breaths slowed and your heartbeats steadied, you had remained entwined, the warmth of your connection a comforting blanket against the chill of the early morning.

Now, in the soft light of dawn, you lie together, your bodies still pressed close, a tangible reminder of the night's intimacy. The world outside may hold challenges and uncertainties, but here, in this moment, you find solace in each other's presence. Mike's arms wrap around you, his body fitting perfectly against yours, a symbol of the unity you have discovered.

As you drift towards a peaceful sleep, your last thoughts are of the profound connection you share, the promise of facing the future together, bound by love and mutual respect.

I really enjoyed writing this and love how it turned out, let me know if you also had fun reading this <3

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lovelylogans · 4 years

Text

the danes family christmas

or: the danes-sanders-prince-tamura-cabrera-key-bowes christmas. but danes family christmas flows a bit easier, doesn’t it?

part of the wyliwf verse.

warnings: food mentions, mentions of divorce, mentions of sickness, alcohol consumption, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairings: patton/virgil, logan/roman

word count: 5,876

notes: hi! this is just a quick little fic. happy christmas, a belated happy hanukkah, and a happy early kwanzaa! if you don’t celebrate any of those, then happy friday! this is essentially a “where are they now” snapshot of the danes family, who were all introduced in last year’s christmas fic. i hope you enjoy!

⁂

it starts when virgil hangs up the phone at the diner—the landline against the wall right by the entry to the kitchen, not his cellphone—looking strangely happy. and, considering there were only ever two kinds of phone calls that phone received, one of which being business calls—

“mom or dad?” patton asks, as he sits at the counter.

“my mom,” virgil says. “freddie finally got the flights finalized, they’re coming for christmas.”

patton claps in excitement. “that’s great!”

“so that’s everyone,” virgil says brightly. “all five of us, plus spouses and partners and kids, ‘cept—”

and then he stops himself, tilts his head, and asks, “hey, what are your christmas plans?”

⁂

and so it begins—patton negotiates them out of attending any sanders’ christmas celebrations, in exchange promising to bring himself and logan and the new beaus (as his mother had called them) to a cocktail get-together on new year’s eve.

and then virgil had caught on to the fact them all leaving would leave roman and isadora as the only ones in their little cobbled-together family in sideshire for christmas, and freddie had, too, and immediately gotten on the phone to beg isadora to come along, so that meant crafting an elaborate plan for a road trip on christmas after the matinee christmas morning performance of the nutcracker, which is where they are now: all five of them in virgil’s car, suitcases packed away in the trunk, on their way down to the elder danes’ family home.

oh, and in the middle of all these preparations, not one but two romantic unions were formed, so. it’s been a bit of a busy couple of months.

“okay,” roman says, from where he’s stuffed in the middle seat between logan and his mom, virgil driving and patton attempting to play at navigator, “run me through the entire family tree again, it’s been a minute since i’ve seen everyone.”

so logan opens his phone, scrolls for a little bit, then clicks on a photo they must have taken the last time they were all together in a big group, and zooms in before he hands the phone over to roman to hold. roman’s mom peers over his shoulder.

“so, we’ll start with the danes’,” logan says, and taps each of their faces as he goes—”meredith, mark, wyatt, esther, silas, winifred, and of course, virgil.”

“right.”

he then proceeds to tap the woman and man flanking wyatt. “adam bowes and alexandria cabrera, but she goes by lexa—”

isadora tilts her head at lexa. “i remember her. isn’t she colombian?”

“her parents immigrated from ecuador,” virgil corrects, “but she studied abroad for a bit in colombia, so you’re probably remembering that.”

“—they’re wyatt’s partners,” logan continues, and points to the children in front of them. “nicola’s oldest, she’s fourteen. then there’s wesley, who goes by wes, he’s twelve. is their dad going to be there?” he asks virgil.

“no, he’s off with his girlfriend,” virgil says, and scowls a little. patton thinks he's clearly about to say good riddance—he isn’t particularly a fan of lexa’s first husband. none of the adults are, really, but none of them ever breathed a word about it in front of the kids.

“all right, so i don’t have to find a picture of him,” logan says. “then there’s elizabeth who goes by ellie, eight, and abigail who goes by abby, five.”

roman mumbles names under his breath, tapping each of their photos, before he adjusts the picture. “right. so, essie.”

“you know annabelle, her wife,” logan says, pointing to the black woman with her arm slung over essie’s shoulders. “they were foster parents for a time, so they adopted michael who goes by mike or mikey, he’s twelve, and his sister sophia. she’s seven. and they also adopted theodore who goes by teddy, he’s eight—”

“—nine,” virgil corrects, “his birthday was last month—”

“right, he’s nine, they adopted him three years ago.”

more repetition of names to himself, and then roman adjusts the photo.

“silas,” he prompts.

“his wife, moira,” logan says, pointing to the redhead beside him. “and the twins, emma and devon, they’re ten.”

“they just had a baby in august, too,” virgil says. “meredith junior, but they’re calling her red, for now, so that no one confuses her and my mom. you can guess why, it’s pretty obvious she’s taking after moira already. it’ll be easy to spot her, she’s the only baby.”

“and freddie,” isadora says, craning her neck to look at the photo. “how long has it been since she’s come back for christmas?”

“at least a couple years just for christmas, but she’s visited a couple times,” virgil says. “still, it’ll be nice to see her and ryu and the kids.”

“akira who goes by kira, and nikko,” logan provides for roman. “they’re twins, age six. and sayuri, but she goes by lily sometimes—”

“how’d that happen?” roman says, looking to virgil for help.

“sayuri means ‘lily,’” virgil says. “‘little lily,’ i think, but i can’t remember the exact translation. she’s three.”

“and—where do they live?” roman says.

“tokyo,” patton says, twisting to look at virgil. “they moved last year, didn’t they?”

“that’s right,” virgil confirms. “they lived in kyoto for a while, but freddie got a pretty good job offer, so. tokyo it is.”

“and then there’s us,” logan says. “i assume you don’t need a photo, name, or age breakdown for any of us.”

roman snorts, and says, “no, i guess i not.” he blows out a breath, before he scrolls back over, and says, “right, okay. remind me what everyone’s jobs are?”

and so the rest of the car ride passes, recalling the last times they’ve all seen various members of the danes family and passing on stories of visits past.

it’s about to be a marathon of a christmas.

⁂

by the time they’re pulling up to the danes’ house—windows down, because the elder danes’ live in a much warmer state and everyone seemed to have a simultaneous, unspoken agreement on the need to thaw from the brutally cold and snowy winter they’d been having so far—virgil’s leg is bouncing in excitement, and patton reaches across to put a hand on virgil’s, smiling at him.

“are we the last ones getting here?” he asks.

virgil nods his head. “miraculously, even wyatt and adam’s weird hours have lucked out, but adam’s exact words were don’t hold your breath—”

“of course, of course,” patton murmurs, because he probably should have guessed the orthopedic surgeon and the spinal surgeon would have some funky hours.

“—but i think everyone should be here? at least i didn’t hear that they got delayed, so.”

“please tell me we’re almost there,” roman groans.

“we’ll get there when we get there!” virgil and patton say simultaneously, and they both laugh at each other quoting the incredibles as roman groans louder.

patton’s glad to have the brief distraction of a pixar reference; as they’ve gotten nearer and nearer to the danes’ house, he’s felt a knot in his stomach grow bigger and bigger.

he’s been spending holidays with the danes’ since logan was born, usually seeing at least one of them once a year—christmases, easters, family get togethers, he and logan have tagged along for years and years.

he has a feeling that virgil and his parents would argue with the phrasing of tagged along, but he can’t help it—even if he knows he’s uncle patton to all the kids, and he knows logan refers to all the various danes progeny as his cousins, and he knows he and logan have long since received the food-based nicknames everyone in the family receives upon being born in and growing up in the family and at marriage, but—

well. he can’t help it, sometimes.

but now, he isn’t just tagging along. he’s the latest romantic partner in the family. he has started dating their youngest son, their baby brother, their beloved bachelor uncle.

he can’t help but wonder if it’ll be like an entirely new dynamic. because he’s seen the way the latest romantic partners are introduced—he’s long since gotten used to the danes’ fond squabbling with each other, but it turns into a whole new level of teasing when they bring along a date.

“we are,” logan says, and points. “there it is.”

virgil examines the number of cars—he probably should have expected the full driveway—and pulls over to park on the side of the road, roman immediately demanding that either logan or his mother get out of the car right now or else he will crawl over them—

virgil and patton’s eyes meet, and patton smiles at him before they both turn to open their own car doors, roman getting out of the car hot on logan’s heels.

and then the danes’ front door opens, light spilling onto the lawn, and children barrel out of the house, almost all of them yelling at the top of their lungs, and virgil says “oof!” as he’s plowed into by three little girls, clinging at his legs, and virgil immediately swings the nearest up into his arms.

“oh, hello, everyone!” virgil says, beaming, looking years younger as ellie clings to his neck, and patton grins at him even as abby notices he has a free set of arms and immediately demands a hug, and patton can’t help but oblige, lifting her up onto his hip, distantly pleased that he still can carry her, because goodness, she’s gotten so tall!

“girls!” someone at the door calls, and patton looks up at lexa in the doorway with a grin. “let your uncles get inside before you tackle them, please!”

“aw, mom!” ellie grumbles, even as virgil’s setting her down and grinning apologetically at lexa, a hand resting on sophia’s hair.

“sorry, lex!” virgil calls, and pats ellie on the shoulder, murmuring something quietly to ellie and sophia ear that makes them both grin, brown eyes sparkling; patton follows his lead, setting abby down.

“uncle patty—” she begins to whine.

“i know, i know,” he says, crouching down to tug lightly at her braided dirty blonde hair, to make her giggle. “but, tell you what. if you listen to your mom, how about you and me sneak some cookies from your grandma, huh?”

abby brightens, and immediately rushes off, right on her sister’s and cousin’s heels.

“do you need any help?” adam says, his head popping out from behind lexa.

“no, we’re all right, thanks!” roman calls, isadora already shutting the trunk, all of their bags unloaded and just waiting to be carried inside—patton doubles back for his, but virgil’s already swinging his bag over his shoulder before patton can do anything about it.

“i could—” patton begins, but virgil leans down and kisses him before he can say anything about it. virgil grins even wider when patton just blinks at him, half-forgetting what he was saying.

“i got it,” virgil says reassuringly, “honestly, we’re gonna need someone to open the door, so,” and patton huffs.

“fine,” he grumbles, pretending to be put out, as the part of him that was raised with things like gentlemen should open the door for you, and carry things that are heavy, and care for you in general is sending butterflies fluttering in his tummy. because, one, virgil is being a gentleman, but also, patton has an opportunity to be a gentleman.

the things that give him gender euphoria are so weird, honestly.

but patton trots ahead and opens the door for virgil (and his son, and isadora, and roman) and is nearly bowled over by a wave of noise.

the sound of about twenty-four people all calling hello to their brother slash in-law and his weird little accrued pool of family all calling their hellos back tends to do that, patton guesses.

but once everyone’s funneled their way through the door, patton tries to close it; before he’s even fully shut the door behind them, though, abby’s clinging to his leg, grinning up at him.

“cookies now?” she asks.

patton tousles her hair. “gotta set up our alibi, squirt. we’re doing this secretly. it’s a mission.”

abby’s eyes brighten. “like spies?”

“exactly like spies,” patton says, in a hushed tone as if he’s being very quiet and secretive, as if he isn’t fully aware that her mother is keeping an eye on them and folding her lip under her teeth to keep from laughing, even as she’s hugging virgil hello.

abby scuttles off, though, as one of her other parents approaches to give patton a friendly, one-armed hug, seeming to fear the potential of revealing their secret mission.

“hey, patton,” adam says easily. “good to see you’re recovered from the pneumonia, congrats on romancing virgil,” patton blinks rapidly and attempts to come up with a response to that, but adam’s already continuing, “and try to keep her from taking too many, yeah? she’s already been spoiled rotten by her gramps today.”

“can do,” patton says, and so begins the shuffle around the room of saying hello to everyone; the kids are all in one section, already, seemingly preoccupied by various board games, but nicola’s unfolded herself from the group to go up to logan already; the pair of them are closest in age, and they’re also quite the pair of brainiacs, so they’ve been close ever since lexa and the kids came to the first family gathering years ago.

“i despise operator algebra,” she’s telling him.

“well, good thing you aren’t planning on going into quantum field theory, then,” logan responds, and patton loses the plot of that conversation because he’s nearly bumped off his feet.

“sorry!” freddie squeaks, red high in her pale cheeks and a glass of meredith’s near-lethal spiked eggnog in her hand; he suspects it to be the culprit for any uncharacteristic clumsiness and he pulls her into a hug even as he’s laughing out forgiveness.

“heard about you and virgil,” freddie says, “finally.”

“oh—um,” patton stammers, trying his hardest not to blush.

“thrilled to have you, really,” freddie says, bumping into him again, this time purposefully. “and, hey! heard you got sick, you’re all better now, right?”

“right,” he says, then, curiously, “um, how was the trip?”

“have you ever had to handle six-year-old twins on a trans-pacific trip?” she says, and patton winces in sympathy; as polite as the twins are, being raised with the japanese code of etiquette, they are still freddie’s kids, and therefore also incredibly rambunctious.

“my condolences,” patton tells her, then, to her husband who’s hovering silently over her shoulder, he attempts to get his way through saying long time no see in japanese to ryu, who’s been trying to teach them all conversational bits of japanese for years (mostly because they’d all insisted; they did the same to lexa, too. meredith’s parents had learned to greet mark’s family in their native italian, so it had become something of a family tradition to learn at least a little of the language of their spouse.)

“ohisashiburi desu,” ryu enunciates for him, and patton groans.

“i thought i had it this time!”

“you were close,” ryu says, which patton thinks is mostly out of politeness, but he’ll accept it anyways. “sayuri, say hello!”

he glances down, then, in time to notice a three-year-old clinging to ryu’s pantleg, just barely peeking out from behind him, the most visible thing being her near-black eyes, shiny and wide.

sayuri ducks out from behind ryu to bow to patton.

“and hello to you too!” patton says, keeping his voice as soft and friendly as he can.

sayuri looks up at ryu, who nods in approval, murmuring something to her in japanese, and she scampers back behind him, clinging once again to his pant leg.

“sorry,” freddie says, not sounding very sorry at all. “lily’s the shy one.”

“oh, it’s all right,” patton says. “it must have been a big day for her, traveling and seeing everyone again and all.”

“that it is,” freddie says, then, to ryu, “d’you think she needs a nap?”

patton takes that as his cue to resume greeting everyone else; he ducks briefly into the kitchen (where abby is, very unsubtly, eyeing the platter of cookies on the counter) and can’t help but coo at the sight that greets him.

“aw, hello,” he murmurs.

moira, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail and a smidge frizzy, looking haggard in a way that only parents to babies ever seem to look, smiles up at him. “hi, patton.”

“hi, patton,” silas echoes awkwardly, from where he’s washing dishes at the sink.

“hi, silas, hi moira,” he says; usually, he’d be all caught up in the amount of fondness he has for moira, distinctly unbalanced in comparison to his relationship with silas, which is still a touch thorny, even after all this time, but, well. there’s a new member of the family to introduce himself to.

“this must be meredith junior!”

meredith junior is preoccupied with drinking from a bottle, and does not respond to him, her eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

“that she is,” moira says proudly.

“oh, she’s beautiful,” patton says warmly, looking at her and feeling all warm and happy because Baby Feelings, and it reminds him of logan when he was at that age; meredith junior (red, he remembers virgil saying) is also a small baby, like logan was, her hair downy and just as red as her mother’s.

moira smiles at her. “yeah, she is. you wanna hold her later?”

“later,” patton repeats, putting up his hands. “i know how important feeding time is. i was just ducking in to say hi, get a drink,” he directs a wink at abby, who attempts to wink back at him, but she hasn’t really gotten the hang of that yet and so she just blinks at him with extra emphasis.

“eggnog’s in the fridge,” silas mutters. “solo cups should have a sharpie next to it, for names.”

“thanks, silas,” patton says, and ducks around him; he ends up pouring himself a bit of cranberry punch, instead, and obligingly writes PATTON on his cup in large letters. then, with a level of slightly overexaggerated sneakiness that goes unnoticed by moira, preoccupied with the baby, and silas, preoccupied with the dishes, patton snatches a stack of ginger snaps, which are just as good now as they were sixteen years ago. abby jumps up and down, pressing her hands over her mouth to keep from making any noise.

“well, i’m out of your hair.”

“we’re talking later!” moira calls after him, “i’m thrilled, i want to hear all about you and virgil!”

patton tries his very hardest not to blush, and ducks out of the kitchen instead. he splits the cookies in half, handing the other half to abby.

“thanks, uncle patty!”

“you’re welcome,” patton says. “hey, go give one to your sister, okay?”

“okay!” she says, and speeds off across the room. patton spies her handing a cookie to ellie and briefly tugging at nicola’s jeans to get her attention, giving her one too, and patton smiles after her, before he turns to scan the rest of the room for people he hasn’t said hi to yet.

he is immediately face-to-face with essie and annabelle, who beam at him in unison.

“patton!”

“annabelle, essie!” patton says, hugging the pair of them. “it’s great to see you!”

“great to see you too!” essie says. “we’ll have to get together sometime soon, you and virgil and us—”

“—we can do a double-date!” annabelle adds excitedly.

“—we can come to you, or you can catch the train down to us,” essie continues.

“oh—” patton says, a little flustered. “um—good! that’s good! that sounds—”

“good?” annabelle says, grinning, clearly very close to laughing at him.

looking for something in the room to change the subject, he glances around and notices, for the first time, two missing members of the family.

“where’s mark and meredith?”

“oh, mom ran out to the corner store for something, i think dad’s on the porch showing off the grill he got for the neighbors,” essie says dismissively, before she reaches over to squeeze his arm. “seriously. so thrilled for the pair of you, we have to do dinner soon.”

“sounds good,” patton says honestly, because it does; getting together with the pair of them, plus mikey, teddy, and sophia, sounds really good.

“i’m gonna go say hi to the kids,” he adds.

“okay!” essie says.

“we’ll catch up later,” annabelle says. it only sounds a little bit like a threat.

he doesn’t even really need to step too far to encounter the kids corner.

“hi, kids!” he says.

“hi, uncle patton,” the kids all drone, not tearing their eyes away; it seems the other board games have fallen to the wayside, the lot of them watching what seems to be the main event with bated breath.

“hello, patton,” wyatt echoes serenely, a pair of tweezers in hand as he observes the operation board. “i congratulate your immune system on its strength in overcoming the pneumococcal pneumonia, and i congratulate you on entering courtship with my brother.”

patton fails, this time, in trying not to blush, which probably wouldn’t be seen by any of the kids, anyways—“c’mon, uncle wyatt!” teddy urges from the sidelines—and wyatt flawlessly maneuvers the tweezers, and very slowly, very carefully, removes the wishbone without bumping any of the walls, and half the kids groan.

“i should have known better than to start this,” wes mutters under his breath, accepting the tweezers from his stepfather. “hi, uncle patton.”

“hiya, wes,” patton says, amused; at least once a year, someone challenged either of the surgeons in the family to a game of operation, and it always ended up with a crowd gathered around like this. “doing okay so far?”

“i’ve buzzed twice,” wes sighs, and squints at the card. “oh, great. i’ve got the funny bone. okay—”

he readjusts his grip, and patton takes a few steps back, so as to not distract him any more than he needs to be distracted, taking a second to look in on nicola and logan—who are deep into conversation about something called hermitian adjoint with excited expressions on their faces, and roman looks as confused as patton feels—before someone taps him on the shoulder.

“doing okay?”

patton turns to smile up at virgil.

“doing fine,” he promises, and sets his cup down on the nearest surface so he can reach out to correct virgil’s collar. “have you said hi to everyone?”

“yeah, just about,” virgil says, then, “um, they haven’t said anything to you about—?”

“oh, y’know,” patton says with a jerk of his head. “moira says she’s thrilled, essie wants to get all together for dinner, freddie said finally, wyatt congratulated the strength of my immune system and my success in courting you, et cetera, et cetera.”

virgil snorts, ducking his head and rubbing sheepishly at the nape of his neck. “guess i probably should’ve warned you ‘bout that, huh?”

“nah, i knew it’d probably happen,” he teases. “you’re forgetting i was at dinner when freddie brought the news of her elopement and the brand-new husband none of us had ever heard of before.”

“still can’t believe she did that,” virgil says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

patton laughs a little, too, before he says, “i was expecting it a little, i guess—i mean, you’ve got four older siblings, i was a little nervous there’d probably be a bit of hazing to go through, now that i’m a boyfriend.”

“you didn’t mention that,” virgil says with a frown. “i can tell them to lay off, if you—”

patton waves him off, even as he still feels the tight knot in his stomach.

“it’s okay,” he says, and it is okay, it’s just nerve-wracking, “i’ve gotten through the first of it, it’s okay. just, y’know. i’m a little nervous to talk to your parents, i guess.”

“they love you,” virgil says immediately. “they’re delighted about this, i promise, they told me so.”

“virge?”

“yeah?” he asks, a protective expression still on his face. patton takes both his hands in his own, looking up at him with a very serious expression on his face.

“remember your siblings teasing me when you have to sit through an emily-and-richard dinner,” he says, “and then we can say we’re nearly even.”

virgil’s lip quirks up. “nearly?”

“well,” patton says, “you’re probably gonna have to go to a few friday night dinners, so i’m definitely gonna owe you for that more than you owe me for this.”

virgil grimaces at the mention of friday night dinners looming in his future like the ghost of christmas yet to come.

“think happy thoughts?” patton offers, with an apologetic grin on his face.

“what thought is happy enough to get me through that?”

patton pretends to think about it, tilting his head back and forth, before he offers in a faux-innocent tone, “egging their car on easter?”

a slightly goofy grin breaks out on virgil’s face, and patton laughs at the sight of it.

“well, if i must,” virgil says. “might even have to refresh that memory with a repeat performance.”

“don’t you dare,” patton says, in a tone entirely too sappy for what he’s saying.

“or what?” virgil says, grinning down at him, and he’s so stinkin’ cute that patton can’t help but rise onto his tippy toes to kiss the grin right off his face.

their lips barely brush before the hollering starts—there’s a wolf-whistle in there somewhere, but mostly things along the line of “EW, uncle VIRGIL, kissing is GROSS,” and “hey, hey, hands off my baby brother!”—and patton breaks away from virgil with a nervous giggle, blushing, fully aware that if most of the people in the room weren’t looking at him before, they certainly were now. patton finds himself unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“oh, c’mon,” freddie says, grinning, sayuri in her arms and looking quite close to nodding off to sleep, “it’s about time, now that they’re dating.”

“finally,” essie adds, not quite under her breath, then—

“wait.”

patton turns, then, to where the kids have gathered in the corner; mikey, essie and annabelle’s oldest son, is staring at them with large brown eyes.

“wait,” mikey repeats, “what do you mean, now they’re dating?”

“you weren’t dating before?” his brother teddy says, sounding equal parts confused and indignant.

“no, we weren’t dating before,” virgil says. “but we—we are. now. so.”

teddy still looks puzzled.

“well, we loved each other for a very long time,” patton explains, because for as smart as all the kids are, teddy is nine years old, and therefore not quite fully aware of the complexities of adult relationships, “and we told each other that recently. so. now we’re dating, but we’ve loved each other for much longer.”

“well, that’s okay then,” teddy decides, and patton can’t help but snort.

anyone still staring at the pair of them gets distracted by the sound of a door stuck in its lock, before it suddenly bursts open, bringing with it a rush of warm outdoor air and the clunking of a cane hitting the hardwood.

“damn door keeps sticking,” mark grumbles under his breath, looking up and taking a moment to scan the room before his eyes brighten. “virgil! when did you sneak in, bunny?”

meredith pokes her head around his shoulder, eyes bright; she's carrying a shopping bag in one arm that emma and devon, silas' girls, scuttle up and take off her hands, ferrying it to the kitchen for her.

"ten or so minutes ago," virgil says, crossing the room, grinning; unspoken, both patton and logan fall into step behind virgil, approaching the danes family patriarch and matriarch together.

mark is already pulling his youngest son into a hug, squeezing virgil tight, and patton can't help but smile at the way virgil grips his father just as tightly; mark's had a bit of trouble with his health over the past couple years—primarily struggling with his knee, which had been replaced a month before thanksgiving this year—and patton knows it had scared him, at the time, and it made him all the more appreciative of the time he gets to spend with his father.

"good to see you, son," mark says warmly, patting virgil's back roughly a couple times for emphasis.

"snap," meredith says warmly, and patton grins—the ginger snaps he ate his weight in at the first danes christmas celebrations he'd ever attended have become his nickname namesake—before he approaches and pulls her into a hug.

"welcome," meredith says, pulling away, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "and congratulations are in order, aren't they?"

patton flushes, but before she can tease him anymore, mark's eyes land on logan.

"god, look at you!" mark says. "you're tall! how much have you grown? a foot? more? what on earth are you feeding him, virgil?" mark asks, turning to him, and virgil puts his hands up, smirking.

"i think i've grown four and a half inches, since the last time i saw you," logan says, before he steps forward and hugs mark, adding quietly, "it's good to see you, nonno."

patton's smile widens at that. emily and richard have always been grandma and grandpa, to logan, and maria, the previous manager at the inn who had taken in patton and logan, has been nana, but mark and meredith have always been nonno and nonna; grandpa and grandma in italian, where mark's family had emigrated from before mark was born.

"and it's good to see you, jammy," mark says, equally warmly, before he draws back, making eye contact with logan, and not having to tilt his head downwards anymore; they're almost on the same level now. "goodness. it'll take some time to get used to that. hit your growth spurt with a vengeance then, just like your dad—"

and then mark's eyes fall to patton, and patton smiles a little nervously, twisting his fingers together.

"hi, mark."

something in mark's eyes go soft, and he steps forward to hug patton just as tightly as he had hugged virgil and logan, to hold patton just as close, and patton isn't sure why his eyes are suddenly stinging, but they are, and he squeezes them shut and takes in a deep breath as he hugs mark back.

"we're overjoyed," mark says quietly, and draws back to look at patton, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes growing more pronounced with his smile. "oh, patton, we're so thrilled for the pair of you, truly we are. you've always been part of the family, but now—well," he says, and looks between virgil and patton.

"the pair of you, making each other happy," meredith says. "it's everything a mother could want for her boys."

patton struggles to swallow, and he can only smile guilelessly at them both as he waits for the lump in his throat to pass.

"now, we heard about your health scare after thanksgiving," mark says, frowning. "you're too young for such things. you're all better now, aren't you? all fixed up?"

"doctor says i am a-okay," patton manages to croak out.

"wonderful," meredith says, "and no more of any of that."

"you should remain hale and hearty, or else," mark adds, finishing her sentence; they've been married for so long, it's almost like they've become symbiotic.

"or else what?" patton says, achieving something close to his normal tone and not sounding like he's about to cry tears of happiness anymore.

"or else i'll set my wife on you," he says, before he claps logan on the back. "now, i hear that you have brought your boyfriend to meet the family!"

"you've met," logan says, beginning to blush, but he goes to get roman anyways; nicola coos "oooh," after the pair of them with all the teasing in her tone that one would expect from a younger cousin.

roman holds logan's hand as they approach.

"sir, ma'am," roman says respectfully, the picture of a proper young man; isadora looks on approvingly from where she's holed up in a corner with ryu, freddie, and a now-sleeping sayuri.

"this is roman prince, nonna, nonno," logan says, squeezing roman's hand tight and leaning into his side. "i love him very much."

mark's smile goes even softer at that; patton leans his head on virgil's shoulder, his cheeks aching.

"aw, shucks, specs," roman says, grinning at logan, "i love you very much too."

"well," mark says gently. "what grandparent doesn't like to hear that? we are very happy to have you and your mother, roman."

"come and sit," meredith says eagerly. "indulge two old crones in some conversation; i hear you want to take after your mother and go into ballet?"

and so mark, meredith, logan, and roman settle on the couch, logan still clinging to roman's hand and looking the most outwardly fond that patton has ever seen him look. it's enough to have the lump in his throat come roaring back with a vengeance.

virgil touches his shoulder, a silent question—you all right?

patton smiles at him and nods, before someone taps him on the arm, and he looks up.

"spouses club meeting," annabelle says, hooking her arm through his.

"what?" patton says.

"spouses club meeting," lexa repeats.

"i'm—i'm not a," patton says, blushing. he isn't the only one—he sees virgil going red, too. they've been dating for barely a couple weeks, that's very far off from—well—

"i'm not a spouse either, technically," lexa points out, "but that's what we're calling it anyways. virgil, we're stealing your boyfriend."

"do i have a choice in the matter?"

"nope!" lexa says cheerfully. "you, patton sanders, have gossip for us."

"goss—" patton repeats, frowning, before he looks to virgil. "oh—oh! lex, it isn't gossip, really—"

"not gossip, sure," annabelle scoffs. "it's only been ten years, we're getting the story—"

"steal him," virgil says immediately.

"traitor," patton cries out, softly enough so that it doesn't attract the attention of anyone else in the room; he'd gotten enough of that when he'd tried to kiss virgil.

"you aren't automatically immune, you've got siblings to deal with," annabelle tells virgil sweetly, and laughs when virgil pulls a face, suddenly looking younger, like the man in his early twenties that he had been their first christmas all together like this.

and so patton is tugged off into the kitchen, where adam, lexa, annabelle, moira, and ryu all sit, ready to hear the story of how they got together, and patton knows that the rest of their trip will be spent like this—being pulled off into subgroups, whether it be spouses, or kids, or siblings, or other arbitrary combinations that would happen on the fly. patton knows he'll spend the rest of the trip eating his weight in ginger snaps, and coming up with fun activities for the kids, and having a million different conversations with everyone, trying to organize how they'll be able to gather in smaller groups during the new year, and—

—and patton knows he's in for a very chaotic, very merry christmas.

#my post #text #my fic #sanders sides fanfiction #the sideshire files

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