#i got sick :( but im okay now just sleepy and high and affectionate

[zarovich]

i love my boyfriend so much

[ascreamingstrawberry]

Strip Me of My Walls Please.

Previous : Part 16, Present : Part 17,  Next : Part 18

Summary: Logan hires a prostitute to pretend to be his boyfriend. Patton is a prostitute just trying to support his son when he falls with a very rich man needing him to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Chapter Summary : No one is particularly happy at the hospital. 

Pairings: romantic Logicality, future romantic Prinxiety, Elle x Damien (my original characters)

Word Count: idk I think like 1,700 around there

Warnings : Mentions of bruises, mentions of abuse, crying, temper tantrums, unintentional injury, sad Patton, sad Thomas, sad Logan (honestly sad everyone, everyone’s just really fricking sad), mentions of therapy. 

Notes : Leave a like, a reblog, message, and reply! I love hearing your comments.

“We haven’t spoke in almost three years!” The voice was cheerful, more so than any other voice Roman had heard in his life, but it still took him a moment to recognize the face.

“Emile?” Roman was, in his own defense, very tired as he slurred the name of his old friend. It was hard not to miss the light pink hair dye sticking out against the stark white lighting of the hospital, a matching tie to go with it.  Roman hopelessly looked somewhere behind him, for the man’s old boyfriend, but alas he had come alone. Not that he minded, all that much.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Emile stepped in the room, the bounce in his step more familiar than his face. His glasses fell down his nose a little, and he stopped moving forward to push them up. When he looked around at all the people, he didn’t move any closer. “You’ve got quite a crew with you.”

“Ugh.” Logan’s voice surprised all in the room as the man pushed the middle finger and thumb of his hand, the one not holding Patton’s, along the line of his eyebrows. “I am so sick of meeting new people.”

“Oh shush.” Patton replied, affectionately. Surprising the taller man by tugging on his hand until Logan fell ungracefully into his lap. Logan gasped, and everyone else in the room giggled, but after that he was pretty much quiet.

“Well nice to meet you too.” Emile scoffed, even though his smile never left his face. The tips of his shoes made a noise when they touched as he turned his feet inward. Then he leaned up on his tiptoes, holding his fingers out for a moment while he caught his balance, before landing back on the heels of his feet. Emile was peculiar, for sure.

“Where’s Remy?” Roman had been carding his fingers through Thomas’s hair and he almost thought the boy hadn’t noticed, until he whined when Roman stopped and practically purred when he started again. Jon had moved to watch Virgil as he and Fid began playing cards again. Roman looked over at Patton, staring all starry and sleepy eyed up at Logan who looked just as far gone. A smile crept onto Roman’s face by the time Emile pulled himself out of his daydream enough to answer.

“Well as much as I’m sure you two would like to catch up, I can’t bring him in since you’re technically a client at the moment.” Roman saw Emile’s face turn serious, more so than the time he yelled at Remy for trying to use red bull in his cereal instead of milk. It tasted delicious, but Roman had a headache all day. He had gotten yelled at quite a lot that day, even despite the headache. He hugged Thomas a little closer as the memory faded, and he realized the whole room had gone kinda quiet.

“Client?” Roman couldn’t help but yawn. It had been a long day, but too many people needed things from him to sleep. Emile needed him to be attentive. Thomas and Patton needed him to be okay, even if he wasn’t.

“Therapy, Roman. I’m issued by the hospital.” Emile dropped eye contact with him again, but this time he was staring at the floor and he almost looked, sad? “Do you want to speak alone?”

Roman didn’t want to talk. He wanted to sleep. But then Fid was pulling Virgil out of the room, and Jon was hopping off the bed, so he figured he couldn’t escape it now. Logan stood up off Patton’s lap a blush still on his cheeks, and held his hand out to walk Jon into the hallway. Patton leaned over to tug Thomas out from under Roman’s arm, but the boy clung to him in his half-asleep state. “Come on Thomas.”

“No.” Thomas whined, scooching further into Roman’s side. Roman kissed his forehead, not wanting to encourage the behavior but then again the movement was more of a distraction from the pain that Thomas caused doing so, than anything else.

“Little prince, I really don’t want you to hear this stuff.” Roman said, trying to push the little boy towards Patton while watching Emile out of the corner of his eye. The young man was inspecting the frayed end of the curtains next to his bed, but was startled when Thomas let out a high pitched scream.

“No,” Thomas kicked his legs at his father, suddenly awake, while trying to get closer by wrapping his arms around Roman’s neck. It was slightly constricting, breathing wise, but Roman was so tired and he didn’t want to hurt Thomas so he just kind of laid there, pliantly letting the chaos emerge around him. There were tears falling down Thomas’s face and his voice, though screaming, was hoarse and broken. He sounded not at all what a little boy should. Roman took that away from him. “You can’t make me leave.”

Another kick, this time sort of towards Patton’s face. Patton dodged it in time though, and had managed to get both of his arms wrapped around Thomas’s middle. “Kiddo, you’re hurting Roman.”

“He’s” Kick. “hurt.” Punch. “and he needs” Kick. “me.” Thomas took a second to catch his breath, it was coming out in hiccups and for a moment Roman wanted to pull him closer.

“He needs to talk to the therapist.” Patton yanked on his son’s middle pulling him completely off the bed and into his arms. He took this chance to run out of the hospital room completely, with Thomas back to kicking and screaming, not even getting the chance to close the door.

Roman watched them go, Emile hadn’t said a word yet so maybe he was still daydreaming and didn’t notice the tears Roman let loose finally. Pain and emotional turmoil making him unable to stop once they started, the high pitched sound of a sob finally getting Emile’s attention.

Logan was sat up against the wall of the hospital hallway, Virgil opposite him. There hadn’t been many people passing through, but even if there was there wasn’t much room as the two tall  grown men took up most of the width of the hallway as their feet barely brushed against each other with their legs straight out. Jon was curled up into Virgil’s side, not sleepy or tired but had his eyes closed anyway. His small hands were gripping his uncle’s hoodie pretty tight too.

“Shit.” The teenager growled, kicking her foot against the wall Virgil was sat up against.

“Language.” Logan said as he watched Jon flinch, keeping his eyes closed and scramble to climb into Virgil’s lap. “There’s children present.”

The movement caught the teenager’s attention and she stuttered, resigning herself to sitting criss crossed on the ground as she kept quiet. “Sorry.”

A second later Patton was hurriedly passing by the two, nearly tripping over Logan’s feet, with a kicking, screaming, and crying Thomas in his arms. Logan stood up, rushed, and followed the father toward the gender inclusive bathroom at the end of the hallway. He wondered if Patton knew that he had been behind him, but when the door got shut in his face, powering over the sound of Thomas screaming for just a moment, he got his answer.

Logan pressed his forehead to the door, tried to focus on the muffled soothing tone coming from Patton as he tried to quiet his son, but any of the words got lost in the door separating them. He focused on the feeling of the wood pressing against his forehead, let it force an indent in his skin. The stress of it all came to him in this moment, not like a wave submerging him in a familiar hollow cavity, but an overwhelming presence from behind trying to make him one with the door. When he felt a small tear run down his face next to his nose, he had a childish urn for comfort, even though he had no reason to want it.  

As he pulled away from the door, he heard Thomas finally quiet down. Or rather, he didn’t hear his screams anymore, only short cycles of sniffs and hiccups spoken by a voice too hoarse for a little boy. Patton was speaking still, most likely through tears, at just above a whisper. The voice was soothing, oddly enough, and while Logan saw the pitch black darkness before he felt his eyes closed, he was still aware. Aware of the people watching him, the boys voices on the other side of the door, the ache in his chest. And it was exhausting.

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