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Patton had been in a bad mood all day.
Logan had a list of Patton’s different bad moods in his head. He had “wrathful days”, where he was just . . . quietly angry with most things; such days were few and far in between. (The “quiet” part was debatable sometimes; there was one memorable incident when Patton had shouted down the parent of another kid who’d happened to be bullying Virgil in front of Patton, and the parent had just stared at him in stunned, ashamed silence before herding his kid away with him. It later transpired that Janus had brought this up with the teachers several times already and had been overlooked, which led to a whole new problem—Logan almost sympathized with the teachers who had to face his husband that day, but only almost.)
Mostly his bad moods bled over into his days by seeping away all outward expressions of emotion. Patton was rather listless on “grey days”, preferring to stay in the back of the bakery instead of interacting with people up front. He napped more frequently on those days, cuddling up with Logan while he did his grading with one hand. Virgil and Janus usually ended up sitting on the floor with them late at night in order to better pet Patton’s hair, bickering quietly and playfully about their day.
Today was different.
Patton seemed to prefer not to be touched by anyone; he seemed to not want to be acknowledged at all, startling whenever someone called his name or his expression going a strange mixture of annoyed and fearful whenever he realized Logan was watching him.
Logan visited his husband’s bakery during lunch and Elliott, one of the longtime workers there, was already hurrying over to him, their black hair cut freshly short. Their voice was a concerned undertone: “Is he okay? He’s been really quiet and jumpy all day.”
“I am not sure,” Logan admitted. “This particular bad mood is new.”
Elliott nodded, their face grave. “He’s been in the back all day.” They made an odd gesture, halfway to a wince. “We have a lot of bread.”
Patton must be really upset. Logan considered whether he’d be upset by knowing Logan had come in to check on him; normally the answer would be no, but he seemed a bit unpredictable today and might take offence to being checked in on so much.
“I will take that into consideration, Elliott. Thank you.” They smiled, tinged with relief. “Are you on the clock?”
“Just took my break, figured you’d come around now.” They held up two fingers in what Remy called a “peace sign”. “See you later.”
“You too,” Logan said and Elliott smiled briefly before vanishing out the door of the bakery.
Logan texted Patton a heart and “I love you”, hoping he used the emoji correctly, before ordering a pastry to go. If Patton didn’t come to him by the evening, he would try and find out what was wrong in earnest.
Patton did not come to him in the evening.
He let Janus and Virgil hug him when they came home from school and kissed their heads, but Virgil picked up on Patton’s unhappiness and switched between hovering around Patton and keeping his distance in the fear that he would irritate Patton by hovering, which only worsened Patton’s mood throughout the evening.
Eventually, Janus marched Virgil upstairs after they both kissed Patton goodnight and received their hugs from Logan. “Hope you feel better, Pops,” Janus called over his back as the boys disappeared over the top of the stairs, and Logan realized this must have been the first time all day someone verbally acknowledged Patton’s demeanour to his face.
He opened his arms, and Patton scooted forward to wrap himself around Logan at a rather worrying pace. Logan drew his fingers through the hair on the back of Patton’s head and his husband relaxed into a loose, sleepy puddle in his arms, though he still radiated discontent.
“Shall we go to bed?” murmured Logan after they had laid like this for a few minutes.
Patton let out a displeased hum.
“You will be much more comfortable in the bed, dear.” He scratched Patton’s scalp slightly in hopes of sweetening the deal. “And we can cuddle properly.”
Patton sighed into his neck before rolling away and getting to his feet, unusually disgruntled. But he didn’t display any ire towards Logan, only squirming into Logan’s arms once he was standing and refusing to let go for another few minutes.
Logan held him and wondered what was wrong.
When Patton let go, he was grumpy all the way up the stairs, and he was grumpy while he undid his braid and brushed his teeth. He was grumpy while he changed into his balloon-printed pajamas (because Patton was a firm believer in keeping one’s inner-child alive) and he was grumpy when he huddled under the covers, waiting for Logan.
Logan finished brushing his own teeth and removed his glasses as he entered the bedroom, switching on Patton’s little penguin nightlight in the corner of the room before turning the light off. He set his glasses on the bedside table before getting into bed.
Patton remained quiet.
It was time to ask.
“You’ve been unhappy all day, dear,” Logan offered, turning on his side to face his husband and slipping one arm under his pillow. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” Patton muttered, turning on his side to put his back to Logan.
He waited patiently.
Patton sniffled after about thirty seconds, rolling back over to face him. “I’m so ugly,” he said softly. “I don’t know what you see in me.”
Logan tried to parse this out in his mind. “Are you asking me why I am physically attracted to you?”
Patton made a little motion between a shrug and a slump and shuffled closer to him, clearly seeking comfort. Logan closed the distance, allowing Patton to tuck his face into Logan’s neck, and wrapped his free arm around his husband. “Is this because you feel you are not conventionally attractive?”
Patton sniffed again and Logan’s heart clenched. “Look at me,” he requested and Patton did so, eyes gleaming with tears in the dim light. “You are incorrect in thinking you are ugly.”
“But—”
“Please let me finish, Pat.” Patton went quiet, probably because Logan never called him by that nickname unless he was feeling atypically emotional. And oh, Logan was feeling a lot at the thought of his husband carrying around such a hurtful and blatantly false perception of himself all day. “Your opinion is based on insufficient evidence as you only ever see yourself in your phone camera or your mirror.”
Patton’s breath hitched audibly and he nodded, though Logan hadn’t asked a question.
“I see you when you wake up and watch the sunrise. I see you when a dog walks by.” Patton chuckled wetly at this and Logan couldn’t help his own smile. “I see you when you make a pun and Virgil, Janus and I all groan at the same time.”
“That’s how you know it’s a good one,” Patton interjected, voice still heavy with tears, and Logan kissed the top of his head, overcome with fondness.
“So you do,” he murmured and the corner of Patton’s mouth ticked up in the dim light as he continued, “When you smell the first pancakes I make, when you’ve just woken up and you have that little sleepy smile of yours, when you put on clothes fresh from the dryer every week and your eyes are all scrunched up and delighted—” Logan swallowed the lump in his throat. “Your face is joy, Pat. Your face is love.”
Patton blinked very rapidly, and smiled. Logan brushed his hair out of his eyes and kissed Patton’s nose, to which Patton giggled and nuzzled him. “Yes, exactly like that,” said Logan and Patton laughed.
Logan’s answering smile was entirely involuntary. He cupped the back of Patton’s head carefully and kissed his husband. “If you would like my opinion, Patton, I think you are very beautiful. Stunning, even. Gorgeous.”
Patton hid his face in Logan’s neck, laughing.
“And in any case,” Logan continued, knowing his husband would come out of hiding eventually, “my love for you is not dependent on your physical appearance. I love you now for a variety of reasons, and I will love you when we are old and grey and you are trying to make me laugh with your impressively terrible puns.”
“They are not terrible,” Patton insisted, drawing back; Logan made to argue but was quite effectively cut off by the loud, hasty kiss Patton smacked somewhere near his mouth, not able to see as well without his glasses.
“We can agree to disagree for now,” Logan said and leaned forward to kiss any forthcoming protests out of his husband’s mouth, his aim much better than Patton’s.
Patton giggled into the kiss, before swatting at his shoulders and yawning widely when Logan leaned away. “We’ll continue this tomorrow morning,” he mumbled and pecked Logan’s nose. Logan’s heart stuttered with fondness. “You’ll have a brighter outlook then.”
“Patton,” Logan said, laughing in spite of himself. “That was terrible.”
“I know, sweetie. I wanted to make you laugh.” Another kiss on the cheek, and Logan turned his head to catch Patton’s lips again. The kiss was brief, and when Patton pulled away, the smile lines around his eyes were creased, visible even in the dimness of the room. “Good night.”
Logan opened his arms and Patton snuggled up to him with no hesitation at all, tucking his face into Logan’s neck and pressing a little kiss there. He kissed the top of his husband’s head in return and felt him hum, content. “Good night, dear.”