#this is probably full of errors bc im on a trip rn oh well

[my-darkstrangeson]

Idk if this has been asked already but I’d love to see the exact moment one of them realized he was gay for everyone else. -vaugelysassygrunt

word count 1436

TW a lil bit of violence, skip the second but if that squiks ya

a/n I hope you like this @vauglysassygrunt

It starts out slowly. One day, Logan is doing the usual desk work needed, filling out papers, signing this and stamping that, when a hand placed itself over the form he was in the middle of filling out, stopping his pen from it’s path. Startled, logan looks up to meet the deep brown eyes of his coworker and, he admits, his close friend.

“Still filling out that paperwork?” Roman asks, and there’s a glint of trouble in his chocolate eyes. “I don’t know how you survive like this, trapped at a desk, taping away at your computer,” lazily, he drags a finger along the ceramic cup Logan uses to hold his pens and pencils, before quirking his eye back to Logan and lifting an eyebrow. “Wanna go have some fun? Y’know, while we have the chance?”

For a second, Logan considers the paperwork still left to do. He has no complaints about sitting her the rest of the night, accompanied by the scratch of his pencil and a cup of coffee, but… but something in romans mischievous glance, the way his tanned skin seems to glow in the yellow-gold light filtering in through the window, highlighting the gold dusting around his eyes, something tugs at his chest, soft but insistent. It’s pushing him, whispering go, and Logan can’t help himself, and he sets down his pens and follows Roman out the door.

___

The scene is chaos; bullets fly through the air, hitting concrete and shattering the glass that edges around the window he and Virgil have huddled under. With every shot Logan winces, watching as bullet holes pepper the office great just a moment ago held smiling faces and busy interns. Now the desk chairs are empty, the computers shattered. There are no bodies slumped over chairs or littering the ground, and that Logan can be thankful for.

“There’s at least three shooters,” Virgil whispers, gritting his teeth as he brushes shards of glass from his cheek. “I think I can get them.”

“What?” Logan exclaims. “Virgil, they’re actively firing at us. You wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger before they- they shot you!”

Despite the grim situation, Virgil smirks, and makes eye contact with Logan. Virgil’s eyes are ghostly grey, contrasting against the dark shadows under his eyes, and Logan is caught like a deer in headlights.

“Don’t you worry about me, specs.” He says, and than he springs up and into view of the open window. Logan wants to scream, to lunge at Virgil and pull him back down, but he knows the look in Virgil’s eyes. He knows the risks, he’s weighed them in his mind; he knows he’ll come out on top.

Virgil’s guns are in his hands before Logan can blink, and he shoots once, twice, in rapid succession. A bullet whizzes past his head, and Logan can see him wince as a line of red appears on his cheek. Another shot from the gun in Virgil’s outstretched hand, and the world falls quiet.

“Virgil, you’re hurt!” Logan says, standing up as soon as he knows the assault has ended. Virgil lifts a hand to his cheek, feeling where the bullet has only just missed him. Another inch, and he would have been dead.

The thought makes Logan sick, his stomach writhing just at the notion or Virgil being hurt. But Virgil is still smirking, his eyes still have that fire, and Logan is thankful that notion wasn’t reality.

“I told you not to worry.” Virgil says, placing a hand on logans shoulder, and Logan feels something in him melt.

___

“Patton, I told you, I’m fine,” Logan objects, before letting out a gigantic sneeze.

“You are most definitely not fine, Lo.” Patton says, as he bustles around the kitchen. “Now, go lay back down, I’m making you soup!”

Logan wants to grumble his objections, because his is fine, and he definitely is not lying about how fine he feels. Yes, his throat burns with every swallow, and he feels hot and cold and achey, and his brain feels like it’s staging a mutiny from his skull, but he has a job to do. But Patton shoots him a look that says you’d better lay down before I make you, abd even with the puppy dog eyes and baby blue apron tied around his waist he manages to look intimidating. So Logan settles for plopping down on his worn leather couch. Soon, (or maybe not that soon, his thoughts are so unfocused he can hardly tell) Patton sets a large bowl on the coffee table in front of him, accompanied by two cups.

“What’s this?” Logan asks, pulling the bowl towards him.

“”That,” Patton begins, taking a seat on the couch next to Logan, “is my mom’s famous chicken garlic soup, and these-“ he motions to the two cups- “are regular water and jello water.”

“Jello water?” Logan asks, a look of gestation on his face.

“It helps with the throat!” Patton smiles, and pushes the cup towards Logan. “It’s like drinking a cough drop. Try it!”

Logan takes a cautious sip, and finds that while he drink is incredible sweet, it does make his raw throat stop aching. The soup is much less saccharine, with large chunks of chicken and garlic floating around in a broth that smells like rosemary.

“Thank you, patton,” Logan says, after a few more bites of soup. “It was quite thoughtful of you to check up on me, and provide me with a meal.”

“Anything for my favorite hacker!” Patton exclaims cheerfully. “Now, what do want to watch? Pick something good, because I’m only letting you off this couch to go to bed.”

“There’s no need for you to stay longer, patton, you’ve done me enough kindness already.” Logan says. “And don’t you have a snake to feed?”

Patton lets out a giggle. “She’s a lizard Logan, and I got Ana to stop by and check on her.”

“Ana?”

“My sister,” Patton explains. “Well, one of them, at least.”

Logan is thoughtful for a moment. “You’ve never told me about your family.” He says after a second. He soup is nearly gone, and the warmth of it has soaked into his bones, soothing the ache that had settled there.

“You haven’t told me much about yours either,” patton says thoughtfully. “What if we swap facts? I’ll tell you something, you tell me something.”

They spend the next hour or so trading stories, recalling memories, some Logan hadn’t thought of in years. He tells Patton about his mother and her patched overalls, his father and the lab they would visit together, about the posters of stars he had memorized, about the sweet mint tea his mother always had a cup of and the smell of warm earth that radiated from the greenhouse in their backyard. Patton tells him about his four sisters and three brothers, the big, messy, warm house they all shared, about the summers spent swimming to the bottoms of lakes for salamanders and hunting for ripe pink huckleberries, about his moms short silver hair and his dads warm brown eyes.

Logan falls asleep on Patton’s shoulder, feeling content, and something else, something that made his chest swell with emotions, something makes him feel warm and safe.

___

The four of them are all piled into the large couch of romans living room, Star Wars: Episode IV playing in the wide tv screen. After both Roman and Virgil admitted they’ve never seen any of the Star Wars movies, and being a “nerd” (as Roman called him) Logan insisted they all get together and watch it. Now they sit, legs overlapping and bowls of popcorn and m&ms balancing on their laps, eyes wide and focused on the screen. Even Patton, who’s already seen the movie, is leaning forwards, following the action carefully.

Logan is sandwiched between Roman and Virgil, giving him a front row seat to their entertaining reactions. Seeing their faces change, smiling at the jokes, leaning forwards at the tense parts, it makes the movie a good thousand times more enjoyable.

On screen, Han Solo quips something sarcastic and Patton lets out a giggle, leaning closer into Virgil, pressing Virgil into Logan. At the same moment Roman rests his head against logan’s shoulder, and suddenly they’re all connected, nestled close together by choice and not lack of space.

And in that closeness, highlighted by the shine of the tv screen and underlined with the soft feeling that gathers inside of him, Logan has a realization.

@anxious-fangirl-121 @insultme-notmyfandoms @ryuity @romanasanders @spacevirgil @chaoticcharm-storm-posts @fluidityandgiggles @llamaavacado @somehowsnakesblog @thekeytohappiness-is-you @a-reference-of-sides @absentmindedproff @deathshadowrules @kaymischief25 @roxiusagi @myownhappilyeverafter @dragonheart905