#a little suggestive perhaps‚ if you squint‚ but strictly non-sexual

[edupunkn00b]

Where the Air is Sweet, Chapter 5

Photo by Rachel Martin on Unsplash

Prev - Ch. 5 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 1881 - Rating: T - CW: fluff, teensy bit of unfounded worry, a smidge of non-sexual D/s.

The hot water turned on with a little squeak, something that used to irritate Logan when he and Patton had first moved into their apartment. It would grate on him, and his jaw would clench as he’d silently—or not so silently—curse the plumber who’d installed it with insufficient lubrication.

But then one day, Patton had called him in when he’d been preparing his own bath. Enveloped in a fuzzy towel and his baby blue polka-dotted cap on his head, Patton had turned the knob back and forth while squeezing his rubber duck.

“Listen, Lo! They make the same sound!” he’d laughed, the naked joy on his face infectious. Logan couldn’t help but laugh along.

Ever since that day, no matter how tired he was, no matter how long of a day he’d had, that little squeak never failed to curl Logan’s lips into a smile each time he started his shower. He adjusted the spray so only a little water would hit the aromatic tab he'd placed in the corner of the tub, then undressed and tested the temperature. It was still heating up, so he took a moment to stretch before removing the small necklace he wore under his shirt.

He kept the key for it in his dopp kit, hidden in an otherwise empty razor box. Not that he feared Patton would ever violate his privacy by rifling through his belongings, it just felt… safer to keep the key tucked away.

Patton didn’t know about this necklace. Using his reflection to find the tiny keyhole, Logan shrugged to himself. Necklace wasn’t quite the right word for the delicate silver band he wore low on his neck, just above his clavicle. The shop where he’d bought it, not at Mr. D’s, but one two towns over, had labeled it a… collar.

At the time, Logan couldn’t identify what had driven him to research the topic. If asked now, he wasn’t sure he’d really be able to explain. He’d come across a mention of it in a book of poetry. One which he’d wrapped in another dust jacket to obscure its unusual title. The poem had spoken reverently of a collar worn by the writer. It spoke of love and peace, of the quiet that fell over the poet when his… friend had latched it into place around his neck.

Phrases and feelings from the poem danced in Logan’s head for months after he’d first read it. The soft hush that eased sharp, anxious thoughts. The certainty of being needed and wanted and cared for that the simple circle of leather and metal had granted the author.

Logan longed for that.

He’d felt compelled to learn more and, slowly, furtively, as he did with any problem or idea, he researched it. And eventually, that research had brought him to Stolitz’ Treasures.

“Are you looking for something for a gift?” the tall, thin man behind the counter had asked. His voice lilted almost musically, and he spoke deliberately, as though he chose his words with care.

Logan’s cheeks had flushed at the question. “W—well, actually, I am looking for something for myself.”

“Ah, I thought so,” he’d suddenly grinned and nodded knowingly. “No shame in that, not everyone’s needs to be gifted to them.” Long, thin fingers came up and stroked the red and black jewel that hung from a choker around his own neck. “Did you have something in mind already or would you like to browse in peace?”

“Perhaps it would be helpful to look around a bit?” There was a dizzying array of items in the glass cases, rings and bracelets and… collars. The shopkeeper smiled and nodded, then stepped back with a welcoming gesture toward the displays.

Logan had nearly given up, overwhelmed with choice, when a small blue heart hanging from a silver collar had caught his eye. His hand had moved almost automatically, bumping the glass as he reached for it. “Ah, you have a fondness for denim lapis, I see.” The shopkeeper was already opening the case.

“I… I didn’t know lapis grew in both shades of blue in the same stone,” Logan had stammered. “I’ll take it,” he'd said before he could overthink it.

That had been three months ago. Logan didn’t wear his collar everyday. Well… at least not at first. But on days he'd abstained, he’d quickly found himself missing the gentle weight, the way both the stone and the silver warmed against his skin throughout the day. It fit nicely under his shirts and ties and his fingers felt the tiny heart each time he straightened his Windsor knot.

The shopkeeper had warned him the stone could be discolored by some soaps, so he removed it before each shower and, of course, before swimming with Patton. A small part of himself hated to take it off and shame flushed his cheeks. What would Patton think if he knew?

“Lo?” As though summoned, Patton called to him. Logan fumbled the key and it clinked at the bottom of the sink before disappearing down the drain.

“No!” he said, louder than he’d meant to.

“Lo, are you okay?” Patton asked, knocking on the door. “Can I get you something?”

“Uh… uh…” Panic coursed through his veins and his hands shook. He stretched over the sink, reaching for a flashlight from the cabinet, but bumped the faucet. Water rushed down the drain, washing away the key. “Oh, no,” he near-sobbed.

“Lo? Lo, you don’t sound okay…” Patton knocked again. “Please, what’s wrong?”

Without the key there was no way he could get this off. Even if he could somehow protect the precious stone in the shower, he and Patton were due to go to the beach together tomorrow. They’d been planning it for weeks. If he backed out now, Patton would know something was wrong. There'd be no way to hide this collar on the beach. No way to postpone until he could return to the shop for assistance. He could face the music now, or could face it later. Either way…

He’s your friend. He’ll understand.

Patton knocked again. “Um, just a moment,” Logan managed and turned off the shower. Delaying the inevitable, he took his time pulling on his robe and tied it tightly before glancing in the mirror. Without his flannel pajama top, the silver collar poked out, glinting brightly against his skin.

Wordlessly, he opened the door.

“Lo! Are you—“ Patton rushed inside, reaching for him and patting his shoulders and upper arms. Head hung low, Logan stared at the tessellating tile floor, afraid to see Patton’s initial response.

But Patton was having none of that. Logan shivered when Patton’s soft, warm hand cradled his jaw and lifted his chin until their eyes met. “Lo, what’s wrong?”

Unsure how to explain, unsure there really was any way he could explain, Logan pulled aside his robe just enough to show the collar. “I dropped the key down the drain,” he admitted.

“Key?” Patton asked, blinking at him. “Why does your neckl—Oh…” His words faded and he stared at Logan's collar. 

Patton’s fingers now felt cool against his skin, shame burning over his face. Logan closed his eyes, waiting for whatever Patton might say, whatever judgement might fall. He wasn’t sure what was worse, buying himself the collar and hiding it, having his secret revealed, or losing the key out of sheer clumsiness. All of it swirled together, spinning in his head until the blood roared in his ears and he imagined falling through a hole in the floor or washing himself down the drain just as sure as he’d—

“Lo.” His eyes snapped open and he stared back at his friend. Patton smiled at him, and when he spoke, his voice was low and soft. He pointed at another towel folded on the edge of the tub, creating a padded seat. When had Patton set that there? “Sit down for me, Lo.”

Nodding, Logan sat and Patton stood in front of him. “May I?” he asked, fingers hovering over the collar. Logan nodded again, but Patton simply waited, eyebrows raised.

“Y—yes,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

Smiling again, Patton smoothed his fingertips over the delicate silver band, then cradled the tiny heart affixed near the locking mechanism. Logan shivered at the gentle touch. “It’s lovely, Lo,” he murmured. “This stone is in both of our favorite colors, too.”

Logan nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat and his adam’s apple grazed against Patton’s knuckles with the movement.

Patton moved his hand then, cradling Logan’s face between his hands. “You’re scared,” he whispered and Logan avoided his gaze. “Oh, Lo, were you afraid I wouldn’t like it?”

“What?” Eyes wide, Logan finally met his eyes again. “N—no… I… Well…”

“I think I can help you take this off,” he leaned close, squinting at the lock for a moment before a bright smile bloomed across his face. “I’ve locked myself out often enough to have picked up a few tricks from the locksmith.”

“You won’t have to break it?” Logan’s hand moved to the collar. While he was confident he could repair it—or find someone who could—just the thought of damaging the delicate metal made something deep under his breastbone ache.

“Only if you asked me to.” Still smiling, Patton stroked his cheek. “Wait for me here?”

“Of course.”

Patton pressed a kiss on his forehead then hurried out and down the hall. He rustled in the kitchen utility drawer for a minute, then returned with a set of tiny screwdrivers. “I think this will work. Lift your chin for me,” he murmured, directing Logan’s gaze up to the ceiling.

After a few moments of fidgeting, the quiet click of the lock disengaging filled Logan’s ears, followed by Patton’s quiet cheer. “Got it! Look!”

The collar seemed even more delicate in Patton’s hands, but he held it with the same care he’d used when helping Logan with the baby pigeons last spring. “Were you taking this off to protect it from your shower?”

Logan nodded. Was this when Patton would ask him not to wear it? Did he—

“Would you like me to help you put it back on again when you’re done?”

“You…” He wasn’t entirely certain he’d heard him correctly. “You don’t think it’s… odd?”

Patton smiled and shook his head. “It looks lovely on you.” His brow furrowed when Logan remained silent. “Do you wish it was still your secret? I can—”

“No.” The word spilled from his lips without his control but Logan knew it was true. “No, I… I like you knowing and…” His mouth clamped shut, cutting off his next thought before it, too, could break free and shatter whatever this fragile thing between them was.

“And?” Patton prompted. He smiled, but his voice told Logan he wasn’t getting out of this discussion without finishing his thought.

He looked down at the collar in Patton’s hands and closed their fingers over it. “And I’d like it if you helped me put it on,” he said more to his hands than anything else. "Even after I get a new key."

“Oh, Lo,” Patton murmured, wiggling one hand free to lift his chin. Impossibly, he was still smiling. “It would be my pleasure.”