Chapter Text
Early morning light filtered into the lobby. Sunrise was especially lovely on Thursdays. It was Pastry Day, and Sanders Day, and Jeopardy Night, and Sleepover Night. Thursdays, for the last year, had been consistently the Best Days Ever. Patton sighed dreamily, staring out the windows to the empty parking lot. He leaned against the desk with his chin resting on his palm. He was looking forward to lunch, since he would get to go to his favorite bakery with Virgil. He was looking forward to that evening, because the lovely, handsome, charming nice Sanders man would be by to pick up his dogs. He was looking forward to that night, for the weekly sleepover and Jeopardy marathon with his parents.
Patton snapped out of his daydreaming quite suddenly at the sound of a bell ringing. He jolted up and snatched a clipboard off the desk, clutching it to his chest. Not a moment later, the door behind him swung open. Virgil was yawning, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. His hair looked like it’d only been half brushed and his shirt was inside out. Patton giggled and Virgil groaned, already knowing what he was going to say. It was routine, after all.
“Good morning, kiddo!”
“What’s so good about it?” Virgil asked, right on cue.
“I get to see your smiling face!” Patton replied excitedly, just like usual.
“I know you want to scold me for staying up until 3am on Tumblr.”
“Who, me? Scold you? Never!”
For a moment, the two were silent. Then they both snickered and met for a hug. Virgil held on a little longer than normal and Patton made a note to ask him later on if he was feeling okay. They pulled apart and Virgil seemed to have drawn some energy from Patton in their brief embrace.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s get started, then.”
In the hour they had before opening, a number of things needed to be finished. For the most part, Virgil took care of the behind the scenes tasks. He got together all of the personal items for the boarding dogs that would be picked up sometime during the day, as well as setting up the food and water bowls for today’s daycare dogs. Patton took to cleaning, making sure that each room sparkled as best as possible; he tried to fix up the laundry and groom rooms so they were prepared for when they’d be used later on. Catching up on paperwork went to Patton, too, which is what he liked doing the most. Thankfully, he had extra time to spare to do so. Knowing that he and Virgil would both be working doubles today was daunting but if Patton just focused on all the stuff he had to look forward to, it made it bearable! By the time they finished, the clock was chiming 7am. Virgil sighed, loudly and over the top for Patton’s amusement.
“I guess we ought to open the doors.” Despite his pretend exasperation, there was a bounce to his step as he plugged in the Open sign and propped the doors open with stoppers. A breeze came through, curling around the wind chimes in the corners of the room. Virgil rapped his knuckles on the desk as he walked by it. Patton was counting the money in the till.
“I’m going to fix my shirt,” Virgil told him. Patton giggled and nodded, waving him off.
For a little while, it remained quiet. The sound of cars driving by on the street beyond the parking lot added to the soft ambience of the empty lobby. Throughout the rest of the building, Patton could hear muffled barking as Virgil went through and checked on all the dogs they were currently taking care of. It was what Virgil preferred to do; the less interaction with people, the better. Patton’s dad would be by any minute now to get started on paperwork and then his mom would be in later, no doubt bringing snacks for them all. Slowly, more employees would trickle in, until the business was running like a well oiled machine.
It was just another reason Patton loved Thursdays so much. For whatever reason, these mornings tended to be more calm than most. Still, customers had busy lives to lead, and no one to pet sit, and so that’s when they turned to Foster Dawg. The establishment had been owned by Patton's family for roughly a decade (in fact, they’d be celebrating ten years in the fall). The Foster came from their last name and the Dawg from a television show Patton’s father had watched growing up. Patton thought it hilarious and not a day went by that he didn’t laugh over the name. He loved explaining it to customers that asked why it wasn’t spelled “dog.”
Sure enough, David Foster arrived the same moment that their first customer did. He patted his son on the head as he made his way to the office, where he’d take care of any accounting that hadn’t been finished the night before.
“Good morning, Mrs. Dungey!” Patton chirped, waving from his spot behind the counter.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” the woman responded kindly, with Madison trotting along patiently at her side. She may very well have been the biggest dog they took care of; Virgil, standing at a full 6’2” when he wasn’t slouching, weighed about the same as she did (170lb, no matter how much Patton fed him). He was sure that if Virgil wanted, he could ride the bull mastiff into battle like a war pony. The image had him giggling helplessly and when he shared it with Mrs. Dungey, she too found it very amusing. After some back and forth chatter, Patton updated Madison’s file for today’s stay, and handed Mrs. Dungey her copy of the form.
“We’ll take good care of her,” Patton promised, wrapping the leash a few times around his hand. He allowed Madison plenty of give, though; it was something he tended to do with all the dogs, even if they tugged Patton along faster than he could keep up. Virgil kept telling him he had to be better about having them heel, but Patton couldn’t help it. He got just as excited as they did.
“I know you will,” Mrs. Dungey said sweetly, patting him gently on the cheek. She headed out to go have brunch with her friends before she’d go play bingo with her mother at the senior home.
Patton gently led Madison out of the lobby, down the hallway, and into the back of the building. Passing the kitchen and laundry room on the way to Big Pawz, he made a mental note to double check that the meals for their boarding dogs were all sorted. Nudging the door open, Patton peeked into the room.
“Virgil?” He called, when his best friend was nowhere to be found.
A couple seconds later, the door leading outside slid open, and Virgil squeezed through. Bella Martens was at his heels, trying to follow, but he patted her on the head, and shut the door carefully before she could get in.
“Yeah, Pat?” Virgil responded, wiping sweat from his brow. His face lit up when he saw who Patton had with him. Crossing the room and kneeling in front of her, he cooed, “Hey, Maddie. How’s my big girl doing?” He scratched her ears and along her neck before standing up again.
At the fond expression on Patton’s face, Virgil’s cheeks flushed hot.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, undoing her leash. Patton took it and made to zip his lips shut but the sound of his father calling him from the front distracted him before he could. Virgil continued leading Madison away, knowing exactly what time it was, and exactly who Mr. Foster was getting Patton’s attention for.
Shutting the door behind him and hurrying back to the lobby, Patton dropped Madison’s leash off in the closet, and ducked through the groom room, as if that would be faster. At the front door stood Declan Sanders, looking incredibly frustrated. He had four dogs with him: a husky, pompoodle mix, corgi, and British golden retriever. Patton almost squealed at the sight of them, all so well groomed and well behaved. Regardless of their manners, Declan was still irritated, and that simply wouldn’t do.
“Good morning!”
“Is it?” Declan snapped, approaching the desk. Despite his mood, he didn’t drag the dogs along with him, or pull harshly on their leashes. “My stupid brother can’t even drop his own nuisances off. I hope he’s perfectly on time for his audition. Hope he breaks a leg.”
Patton’s hand went to tuck his hair behind his ear, even though there weren't any loose locks. It was more of a nervous habit. “How… how is Roman?” he asked hesitantly, busying himself with the paperwork Declan would need to give to his sibling later.
“Oh, right,” Declan drawled, eyebrows raising and disappearing behind his bangs. “I forgot about your little… crush, on him.”
That… seemed unlikely. Patton, according to Virgil, was pretty transparent about his feelings for Roman. Deciding he’d worry about it later, Patton slid the clipboard across the desk to Declan, who snatched the offered pen out of his hand, and signed at the bottom of it.
“He’s terrible, by the way,” Declan finally answered. “Woke up late, couldn’t find his favorite pair of sunglasses.” He rolled his eyes. “Picked the lock on my door and went searching through my dresser as if I’d stolen them.”
Patton couldn’t help giggling. He hadn’t had very many interactions with Roman but that sounded like something he’d do. Declan’s glare sharpened at the laughter. Patton went quiet.
“Sorry,” he offered, smiling sheepishly.
“Whatever.” Declan took the pink colored page while Patton filed the yellow and white ones. He was tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for Patton to come around the desk, and take the dogs off of his hands. Patton did so with grace, handling four leashes as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Declan didn’t say anything else before turning and leaving.
“Bye! Have a nice day!” Patton called after him.
Declan gave him a rather rude gesture in return.
Patton only let it bother him for a second before shrugging it off. Sure, he wished he could help everybody, all the time, but some people didn’t want to be helped, and Patton had to respect that… For now, anyway. Patton gave each of Roman’s dogs equal love and attention as he took them to their rooms.
The husky and the British golden (Walt and Shadow) were left to Terrence in Medium Pawz. He passed the pompoodle and the corgi (Cooper and Einstein) to Talyn in Small Pawz. The two had arrived during Patton’s short interaction with Declan. They were both incredible employees, who really loved their jobs here; then again, Patton thought, any career working with dogs was pretty good. The morning continued much the same: customers arrived, signed their paperwork, left their dogs. Patton would take them to the appropriate room (sometimes, it wasn’t the physical size of the dog, but the size of their attitude) before returning to the lobby to do it all over again.
He was in the middle of a very complex coloring page when someone behind him cleared their throat. “Working hard or hardly working?”
Patton jumped and shoved his book away.
“Working hard!” He yelped, only to turn around and find Virgil snickering behind his hand. Patton pouted at him.
“Virgil,” he whined. “You know I startle easily!”
Virgil shrugged, only partly sorry. “I know. It’s lunch time. Ready to go?”
Patton lit up like a child on Christmas morning.
“Pastries!” he shouted and even though Virgil winced at the volume, he couldn’t help but to feel just as excited.
They clocked for lunch and let Patton’s father know they’d be back in an hour, before heading out the front door and into the parking lot. The daycare was located conveniently within a shopping center. There was a specialty groomer just two storefronts down, and Foster Dawg often partnered with them to offer deals for their customers. On other days, Patton and Virgil would stop in at Subway or Chipotle. On Thursdays, though, they made the short trek across the street to the Porto’s Bakery & Cafe.
The California-based bakery had a line out the door, but this wasn’t anything new to the pair. While they waited, they talked about all the dogs that had come in today, and new video game releases, and what show they wanted to start watching next. By the time they were inside the building and cooling off in the air conditioning, Patton felt it was safe enough to ask if Virgil was feeling okay.
“How come you up were so late last night, kiddo?”
Virgil visibly stiffened, eyes going slightly wide in alarm. He hoped to play it off as nothing but Patton had always been very observant. He tried, anyway. “Tumblr, remember?”
“Virgil.” The Dad Voice was in full effect.
Virgil sighed. “Ugh, fine. I had a nightmare, okay? I went to bed at an actual normal time and had a nightmare and couldn’t fall back asleep after it.”
Patton frowned. He linked his pinky finger with Virgil’s. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Virgil swung their connected fingers back and forth, humming. “Not… really.” His gaze had gone distant, as if remembering, and when he shuddered, Patton fully took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Virgil gave him a shaky smile. “I’m fine, Pat. Thanks for asking, though.”
Patton nodded and squeezed his hand. Virgil returned it. “Just let me know if you want to, okay? You know I’m always here, even if all you need is for me to listen.”
“Next!” The employee at the counter called, interrupting their moment. Virgil pulled Patton up to the register and looked to him, knowing he had the list of what their coworkers had requested. It was a lot of turnovers and strudels, but a few savory treats made the cut as well. They obviously ordered a dozen of the infamous Potato Balls, as well as enough drinks to warrant two carriers. They grabbed a table at the outdoor seating area to spend the last half hour of their lunch before heading back. Patton sipped at his Jamaica Strawberry iced tea.
“How was dealing with Declan earlier?” Virgil asked, picking at his sandwich.
“How’d you even know it was him?" Patton returned instead of answering, tilting his head curiously. “You were on the complete opposite side of the building.”
“Oh, you know,” Virgil said vaguely, waving his hand.
Patton waited for him to elaborate. When Virgil went back to his lunch, Patton just huffed an amused sigh, and resumed silently eating his tuna melt. Fifteen minutes later, they were waiting at a stoplight. They carried a drink tray each and both had a to go bag looped around their wrists. Patton was bobbing his head to the music playing from a car with its windows down.
“Excited to see lover boy today?” Virgil asked abruptly, shooting Patton a knowing smirk.
Patton startled so suddenly, he nearly dropped his goods.
“Virgil!” He squeaked, cheeks coloring. The crosswalk sign switched over and they stepped carefully into the street; Virgil looked right and left despite them officially having the right of way. Patton remained resolutely quiet though he was starting to get that dreamy, far off look in his eyes. Virgil transferred the carrier to one hand and caught Patton by the elbow before he could trip on the curb.
“Pay attention!” He laughed, too amused to fret very much. “I really should know better than to mention him unless you’re sitting down.”
Patton groaned, wishing he could hide his face in his hands. “Do you have to tease me so much?!”
“Yes,” Virgil answered immediately. “It comes with being best friends.” He flicked his wrist as if to prove his point; the sleeve of his hoodie slid down to reveal the friendship bracelet Patton had made for him. At this point, the drink carrier and bag of food were both in one hand, and Virgil decided it was for the best. It’d make watching over Patton easier, given his clumsiness.
Patton scowled at the outerwear. “Aren’t you hot, by the way?” He asked, intentionally choosing the more shaded walkway back to the daycare. “It’s, like, 80° out.” He lifted the tray closer to his lips and sucked up the last of his iced tea.
“Eh, you know me,” Virgil shrugged. He was always perpetually cold but Patton never did fail to ask him how he managed to wear jackets and sweaters in the sun. They arrived back at work with five minutes to spare. Handing the food and drinks out to their coworkers, they clocked back in right on time. Before Virgil returned, however, he threw an arm around Patton’s shoulders, hugging him.
“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding my question.”
Patton swatted him away, spluttering. Virgil shot him a wink as he disappeared into the back.