Chapter Text
The next morning, Roman woke to bird song, a muted chorus of robins and starlings and chickadees all greeting the sun. Soft, golden light spilled through the gaps along the curtain’s edge. Sprawled on Logan's bed, Roman was warm and comfortable. Well, mostly comfortable. His stomach growled, a not-so-quiet nudge that perhaps it was actually hunger that woke him and not the birds outside.
He’d burrowed under the covers in his sleep and when he pushed them back and peered over the fluffy comforter, he saw Logan, sleeping curled around a pillow in the chair he’d set up by his bedside. A sunbeam landed just behind the chair, lighting him in an ethereal glow his technical director would be jealous of.
Logan's face was soft in sleep, the near-everpresent tension gone from between his eyebrows, his jaw. He’d removed his glasses and his lids were smooth, eyes darting back and forth in a dream. Mouth relaxed, his lips looked even fuller, an almost smile curving up one side.
He was gorgeous.
Moving carefully, Roman wiggled his way out from under the covers and confirmed that, yes, he was, in fact, proudly wearing bright white boxers festooned in multicolored hearts. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he watched Logan sleep for just long enough to start to feel creepy. Finally, he stood and tried to remember where he’d noticed his jeans last night. It was cool in the room and Logan only had a small throw blanket stretched over him, so Roman tucked the comforter around him before he went to dress and wash his face.
He’d seen Logan make coffee often enough to know how he liked it. After the way he’d cared for him—clearly all night judging by the shadows under his eyes, the very least Roman could was make sure that when he did wake up, there was a fresh cup waiting for him.
Roman gathered the dishes and an empty Gatorade bottle from the nightstand and pocketed his—charged—phone. Logan sighed in his sleep, soft and contented. He was sorely tempted to press just one tiny kiss into his hair but he satisfied himself with a quiet whisper. “See you when you wake, Lo.”
He crept downstairs and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, then pulled out his phone to check in with his brother.
Good morning!
Re replied almost immediately.
heeey! back from the dead! how you feeling? did he take good care of you in your time of need? 😈
It wasn’t like that
like what? *blink blink blink*
Re…
aw, i’m fucking with you. i’m sure he was a perfect little repressed gentleman.
Mr. Sweet n Sour Sauce, everyone. He’s here all night.
just sayin’… da nile’s not just a river in egypt
Turning off my phone now…
nah, don’t be like that. seriously, he called three times, worried as fuck. then it was like it was christmas day when your fever broke.
He’s sweet.
i can see that. don’t fuck it up
Roman rolled his eyes and tapped at the screen but Re continued before he could finish his retort.
oh, and jannie says to tell him, ‘that’s not what he meant by celebrating but at least he got part of it right’
Smiling despite himself, Roman shook his head, unsure which of the dynamic duo was more cryptic. Those two were made for each other.
I’ll be home tonight, maybe even this afternoon. I don’t know what plans I’ve already disrupted for him.
you really so blind? his only plans are YOU, ro bro
When he didn’t respond, bubbles popped and stopped repeatedly, Re writing and re-writing some message. Finally, he asked,
what’s stopping you from making your move? he’s obvs crazy about you
It was difficult to tell just how seriously he should take his brother’s assertions. It didn’t feel like teasing and Re knew, really knew how much Logan meant to him. His brother was an ass, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t lie to him about something so important.
It was even more difficult to convince his heart that Logan’s actions over the last day and a half weren’t more than the care of a truly altruistic person. Logan was a good man. He would do what he’d done for anyone… Wouldn’t he?
He wanted to ask how his brother could be so sure. Roman had been wrong so many times before. He’d fallen hard, taken in by charm or misattributing basic lust and desire for something… deeper. Logan wasn’t the type to take advantage of someone, let alone go through some sort of farce of denial of his sexuality. But…
But what if… what if the problem wasn’t with the men Roman was falling for, but with him?
Re sent a single question mark and Roman finished his message, dodging the real question sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach.
He’s asleep right now. I’ll text you if anything changes, okay?
okay
thanks ro. kiss the nerd for me
Roman pocketed his phone, the dream-memory of Logan’s soft skin against his lips fresh and strong. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel it, the warmth, the way his muscles flexed just under his skin. Shaking away the ghostly sensation and the longing that came with it, he picked up the coffee pot and filled it with water.
“Ro!” Patton’s surprised voice bubbled from the hall. “You’re up!” he cheered and threw his arms around him in a hug.
“Thirty-six hours is probably long enough to sleep,” he laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hey, I wanted to make your dad some coffee and breakfast. Would you like to help?”
“Yeah!” Patton grinned and pointed up at the top shelf of the cabinet above the coffee maker. “Use the brown bag. It’s stronger, but it’s his favorite.”
~
Face buried in his pillow, Logan groaned and stretched as he woke, eyes snapping open when his book thudded to the floor. The sound was muffled by the comforter gathered around him. The comforter that had been tucked around Roman. He sat up. “Ro?”
His bed was empty, the blanket completely wrapped him instead. Craning his neck, he checked the ensuite, but the door was open, the light off. Roman’s jeans were gone from where he’d hung them on the back of the door and the nightstand had been cleared. Yawning, he stood, only slightly stiff from spending the night mostly upright. Watching Roman sleep so peacefully, seeing with his own eyes that he was well, or at least on the mend, had made it easier to set aside his worry and finally drift off for a bit of rest for himself.
After checking his phone—no messages from either Remus or Roman—he made the bed, then hurried to change and brush his teeth. He hoped Roman hadn’t already left. It had been easy to behave as though, here, in his room, Roman was already home. Home with him. He knew he’d need to return to reality eventually. Logan just hoped he hadn’t already missed him, that Roman would’ve said goodbye before leaving.
As soon as he opened his bedroom door, Roman’s booming laughter danced up the stairs and his cold, quiet fear dissolved. A chuckle spilled from his own lips, the mere sound of Roman’s jovial voice enough to make him want to join in. He skipped down the stairs, real laughter bursting out when he entered the kitchen to the sight of all four boys huddled around the table and engaged in a friendly—if loud—debate over the best flavors of jelly.
“Apple jelly?” Virgil’s nose scrunched even as he laughed.
“Hey,” Emile shook his head. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted apple Hamentashen.”
“Oh, are those the ones your dad made last year?” Remy grinned. “Mmm, Em’s right. I thought I didn’t like apples until I had those. You gotta try it, Virge.”
The homey scents of fresh coffee and toast and, of course, jam filled the air and Logan stood to the side, watching the conversation. He was caught, though, when Roman turned and asked Patton how he liked his eggs.
“Good morning, everyone!” Waving at his sons and his future son-in-law, he entered the kitchen to a small chorus of greetings. Roman stood in the middle of the kitchen, sleeves pushed up and once again wearing Logan’s apron. “Good morning, Lo. There’s coffee on,” he smiled. “Can I pour you a cup?”
Logan stepped closer. Bright sunlight streaming in from the kitchen window gleamed against the shiny stovetop and the coffee maker, bouncing up and turning Roman’s hair into a halo of almost red curls. The boys chattered, now debating whether Hamentashen were cookies or tartlets, and he kissed the top of Patton’s head when he gave him a quick hug on his way to the fridge.
Their happy voices faded into the background as he met Roman’s eyes. “How—how are you feeling? Shouldn’t I be getting you coffee? Or at least some juice? You must be starving.”
“Patton made sure I ate something before we started all this. I’m really feeling much better, thanks to you. See?” Roman reached for his hand and pressed it to his forehead. His skin was warm, but no longer hot, no longer that frightening feverish heat. Just… wonderfully warm.
He smiled when Roman blushed—actually blushed. He was beautiful when he blushed, soft pink painted over the apples of his cheeks, darkening his lips and spreading down his neck. “You took excellent care of me. I’m certain you lost more than a little sleep, though.” Roman bit his lower lip, holding up a cup. His favorite cup. Logan drew close and inhaled deeply. His favorite brew. “Though, it makes a nice excuse to wake you with a cup of coffee,” he grinned.
Logan had had this dream before. While tonight there was no glint of gold on either of their hands, with the perfect sunlight, the perfectly chaotic and peaceful morning with the boys, and the literal man of his dreams offering him his favorite coffee, this could be nothing but a dream.
He nodded and stepped closer. “You’re always a wonderful way to wake up, Old Heart,” he murmured and closed the distance between them. Both arms draped over Roman's shoulders, Logan smiled and pulled him down into a kiss. Roman’s surprised little noise turned into a happy hum and, laughing, Patton took the cup still in his hand and set it on the table.
Hands now free, Roman wrapped one arm around his back and the other cradled the back of his head. He drew him even closer, gently deepening their kiss.
It was like nothing in any other dream before. A soft need that matched his own drove Roman’s kiss, heat and warmth and softness pouring from him, even as he pulled him close, fingers curled through his hair. Logan melted against him, captivated in a way he’d never felt before, not in his dreams and not in his waking life.
“Alright, alright,” Virgil laughed. “Get a room already.”
Patton giggled. “Oh, leave them alone and eat your toast. Look how happy they are.”
“Jacinta’s so gonna say ‘I told you so,” Emile murmured.
Logan broke away, eyes wide. The butter in the pan sizzled and popped, starting to brown, and Remy hurried over to lower the heat. “W—wait…” He patted the top of his own head and felt his bedraggled hair and smelled the faint smoke from the butter as he struggled to catch his breath. “This… this isn’t a dream,” he whispered.
A broad grin spread across Roman’s face. “Do you frequently kiss me good morning in your dreams?” He murmured close to his ear, low voice rumbling through his chest. When Logan didn’t answer, he pulled back and searched his eyes. “Unless… it was a mistake?”
Logan looked up, Roman’s brilliant green eyes soft with concern. And more than a little pain. “Not a mistake,” he whispered in a rush. “But maybe…” His eyes darted to the table where the boys were studiously spreading more jam on their toast. “Maybe something we should talk about?”
He looked toward the hall. “Perhaps we can go for a walk?”
Smiling, Remy revealed just how much they could hear from the table and picked up the spatula. “Breakfast will be ready for you both when you get back.”
They gathered their shoes and jackets silently, each wrapped in a bubble of their own thoughts. Guilt for kissing Roman without consent clashed with wild, desperate hope, his heart pounding to a rhythm of ‘he kissed you back, he kissed you back, he kissed you back.’
Words tangled in Logan’s throat, unable to push out even an apology. They stepped outside, each braced for the same chill the previous days had held, but the sun shone brightly, and the air was fresh and unseasonably warm.
He pointed to the park across the street. “There’s a quiet spot there by the pond, if… if you’d like….”
“That sounds perfect,” Roman smiled and offered his hand. When Logan hesitated, though, he lowered it, smile faltering.
Logan took a deep breath and risked it, lacing their fingers together before crossing the quiet street and heading into the park. The return of Roman’s smile told him it had been the right thing to do.
Dried leaves crunched underfoot, the gentle earthy scent following them down the path. “I’m so sorry I kissed you without asking,” Logan began. “I…” His throat tightened, but he pushed forward. “It’s not an excuse, just an explanation. I… I have had… many dreams like that,” he admitted in a tiny whisper, eyes down on the ground. “Where we… we're—we’re together and… I—I’m sorry.”
“Lo…” Roman stopped walking and tilted up his chin. “Is that why you’re so upset? You thought I was… bothered by our kiss?”
“That’s…” He nodded. There was so much more. “That’s part of it.”
“I liked our kiss,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”
“Oh.” Logan looked up into his eyes. Roman meant it.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure where your feelings were. This…" He smiled gently, thumb brushing over the edge of his jaw. "Something between us would be… new for you. I never would want to push you or make you… uncomfortable in any way.” Suddenly Roman looked nervous. “I… How…” He took a deep breath, like he was bracing himself for bad news. “How do you feel about it? Is it… Is kissing me something only for your dreams?”
Roman’s hand on his jaw was gentle and warm and Logan wanted nothing more than to throw himself into his arms. To forget why it would be wrong to take advantage of Roman’s kindness, to chase this feeling and…
“I liked our kiss, too,” he whispered, head screaming at his heart, but once the words slipped out, more followed. “I—I want more, I want all the things I dream about with you, I…” He clamped his mouth shut. No. He can’t ask for this.
Roman’s eyes grew guarded but he didn’t let go of his chin, or his hand. Not yet at least. His smile shrank, though, and his shoulders curled in as a familiar expression flashed over his face.
It took Logan a moment to recognize that the look in Roman's eyes was the same he’d had when talking about Devin. “Are we…" Roman swallowed hard, a tremor in his lips. "In your dreams are we only physical?”
“I…” Logan shook his head, the words sticking in his throat.
Confess! There’s no going back now. You can’t leave him thinking you just have dirty dreams about him.
“No.” Logan blinked back tears and tightened his grip on Roman’s hand, looking down at the way their fingers intertwined, the same way his mind wove their lives together in his sleep. “I… I get to love you in my dreams. We’re together, married sometimes,… usually,” he admitted after a moment. “And… and we dance and play or we wake up together or sometimes we’re…” He nodded, cheeks burning. “Sometimes we’re intimate.” Logan hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Lo…” When he didn’t look up, Roman raised his chin until their eyes met. “Lo that’s beautiful. Why would you be sorry about that? Do you…” Sudden hurt washed over his face. “Do you… wish you didn’t feel that way? Not when you’re awake, at least? Do you… do you not really want that with me? ”
“Of course I want that with you.” He shook his head, staring back into Roman’s eyes. How to make him understand? “Ro, you’re incredible. Brilliant and creative, funny and so, so kind. You’re wonderful and… And you deserve so much more than… me.” His voice broke and he swallowed hard, determined to get through this. And with any luck at all, figure out a way to hold on to their friendship when he was done.
“I’m damaged. Scarred. Here…” He released Roman’s hand and held up the shameful scars on his left hand, including the newest from clumsily dropping a knife when he’d been startled by the damn doorbell. “And here.” He touched his chest, his traitorous heart pounding under his ribs. “I’m broken beyond repair.”
Roman smiled, tears in his eyes, and cradled Logan’s cheek with one hand, slowly shaking his head. “Lo, you are beautiful.” He covered his hand, tapping to the beat of his heart. “You're beautiful here.” Wrapping strong, warm fingers around Logan’s, he gently pulled his hand away from his chest and lifted it to his own lips, and kissed his scarred palm. “You're beautiful here.”
The hand on Logan's cheek shifted, tilting up his chin and brushing a thumb over his lips. “And you're beautiful here,” he whispered, once again closing the distance between them. Roman’s breath warmed his face, and he smelled like vanilla and coffee and strawberry jam. He smelled like home.
“Lo, I love you.”
“After everything you’ve seen?” He couldn’t hold back his tears, those soft, sweet words ripped right from his dreams just too much to hear. “I’m a mess, I jump at slamming doors, I work too much, I drop everything when one of the boys calls…” Roman chuckled and moved closer. “Why are you laughing?”
“You haven’t listed a single reason to love you any less,” he smiled, hand sliding back to card through his hair.
Logan stared, speechless, and he couldn’t help leaning into the soft touch.
“Do you love me?” Roman asked.
“Yes!" Logan whispered. "I love you so much. All I want is for you to be happy, Ro. I want you to have someone in your life who’s worthy of being by your side.”
“‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you,’ Lo,” Roman said, quietly but clearly. Logan stared back, eyes wide. “I never did get to finish what I was going to say that night. I felt it then…” He brushed a line of soft kisses down his cheek, following the trail of tears. Roman's lips burned against his skin, a sweet, hot fire. “And I feel it now.”
He shouldn’t. Logan knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop the words. “‘When you depart from me,’” he whispered, chest warming at Roman’s growing smile, “‘Sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.’”
Roman kissed the tears on his other cheek. “Then ‘thee I will love, and with thee lead my life.’” A gust of wind blew up over the water and Roman turned them, putting his back to the cold and shielding him. “I love you, Lo.”
“And I love you, Roman,” he whispered back.
“Then kiss me.” He lifted his chin, warm breath ghosting over Logan’s cheeks. “Kiss me like you did in your dream. Kiss me like your heart tells you to.” He drew closer, lips grazing his with each word. “Kiss me like you love me, Lo. And let me love you back.”
Logan couldn’t remember anymore why he was fighting this feeling, this warmth. A slow smile spread across his face. “Happily,” he whispered, and pulled him down into their second first kiss.