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Patton didn’t normally mind when it was his turn to clean up after the PTA meetings. He got to snack on the left-over refreshments, put on some music, and share gossip and idle chatter with whichever one of the PTA ladies was also taking a turn tidying up. It was much more fun working in pairs, and Patton considered all the ladies to be his good friends.
Dot would ask him questions about child psychology then give him a baggy of pretzels “for the road.” Margie would tease him about Logan’s science fair rivalry with her granddaughter and play music so old the speakers would crackle. Cathleen would try and convince him to go on a blind date with one of the guys from her job, which was sweet even though Patton was sorta tired of it. And since Linda was too stuck-up for chores, he never had to suffer through a clean-up with her.
He knew he was cleaning up today, but he didn’t bother to check who else would be staying to clean. After all, he enjoyed everyone’s company.
Patton really, really wished he’d checked.
He tried not to stare, but it was proving easier said than done. He rifled through the cleaning supplies, pretending not to watch Deceit slip off his black suit-jacket, tying the sleeves loosely around his waist. He rolled up the long sleeves of his pressed yellow dress shirt, revealing his toned forearms, each with a simple black snake tattoo around the wrist.
He looked like a different person entirely. Without his bowler hat, his hair was unkempt and loose, falling into a soft crown of curls. While he appeared as light and fluid as air most days, something about him now seemed grounded and powerful. Maybe it was the surprising muscle that was packed onto his slim light frame, or the burn scars that travelled down his left side, or maybe it was the focus and patience in his eyes as he pulled on a pair of rubber cleaning gloves.
Patton decided that maybe if he focused harder on the whole bitter rivalry thing, it’d be easier to ignore the fact that said rival was drop-dead gorgeous.
“Sanders,” Deceit said—and the annoyance in his tone snapped Patton back to reality. “As much as I absolutely love it when you stand around doing nothing, I hate to say the counters won’t be scrubbing themselves.”
Patton felt his face burn with embarrassment. How could someone so mean be so pretty? It wasn’t fair. “Sorry!” He said, biting his lip. He turned his attention to the countertop, trying to scratch off a crusty glob of cake. He paused for a moment before speaking again. “So uh, those snickerdoodles you brought in today were pretty darn tasty. You said it was a family recipe, right?”
“Yes,” Deceit said cooly, collecting the dirty paper plates. “They’re a traditional recipe passed down by my great-great-grandaunt Patty Ethos.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, but they taste almost exactly like the snickerdoodles they make on Tuesdays at Bake My Day over in downtown,” Patton said carefully.
For a moment, Deceit stiffened, caught off-guard. He cleared his throat, dropping the stack of used plates into the trashbin with a forced, irritated smirk. “A coincidence, I’m sure. I wouldn’t want to accuse anyone of stealing Aunt Patty’s recipe.”
“Sure,” Patton said, feeling a small puff of pride at his tiny victory.
Deceit didn’t leave him to savor the moment long, quickly changing the subject. “Anyways, I truly am just thrilled to see you made it to school safely today.”
Patton paused his vigorous counter scrubbing. “Uh. Thanks? Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, I just can’t help being concerned,” Deceit said with a sigh. “You do have a bit of a habit of ah... shall we say, road rage?”
This was about when he’d honked at Deceit the first day, wasn’t it. Goddammit. “I don’t know why you’d say that! I’m a very, very, very safe driver,” Patton said bitterly.
“Oh I’m sure you are, just perhaps a little, shall we say, distractable?” Deceit said condescendingly.
Patton huffed, putting his rag into the sink and turning on the hot water. “You don’t need to *rag* on me about it.”
Deceit picked up a spray bottle, raising an eyebrow. “And *water* you going to do about it?”
Patton paused, covering his mouth to stifle a giggle. “I think I’ll *soap*-rise you if you give me the chance!”
Deceit smirked, leaning against the counter, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What, are you going to get up on your *soapbox* again?”
“You’re just worried I’ll *sweep* you off your feet,” Patton said.
“Speaking of giving chances,” Deceit said, “I still can’t believe your sticking to this idea of a student reform program.”
The smile dropped off of Patton’s face. “I tried to explain to you during the meeting, but suspending kids for bullying isn’t effective! Especially when they’re so young. They need to be kept in school and given special additional guidance classes to teach them what they’re doing is wrong. Lots of young bullies come from rough homes, so just sending them back isn’t going to make things better in the long term!”
Deceit sat on the edge of the counter, crossing his arms. “If they remain in the same system, what’s to stop them from bullying weaker children? Maybe your ideas will work and they will stop, or maybe they’ll only get better at not being caught.”
“But they’re kids!” Patton protested. “They’re still young, they deserve the chance to learn how to be better people even if they don’t have good examples at home.”
“The bullys’ victims are also children, and they deserve to feel safe. I know you think so too.” Deceit said firmly. “Your reform plan is nice and everything, but it is overly idealistic. Your need to help everyone individually is blinding you to the reality of the big picture.”
Patton threw the last of the wet wipes in the trash, resisting the urge to stomp his foot like a child. “I know it’s not perfect and I know it wouldn’t be easy! But there has to be a way to help every kid.”
Deceit shook his head with a bemused smirk, peeling off his cleaning gloves. “Your blind optimism astounds me. I’m rather eager to get going, though. It isn’t as if I have a rather tricky visitation case I need to research.”
Patton huffed irritably, though he couldn’t help feeling a touch disappointed that this was the end of it. He walked over to the coatrack, reaching for his jacket. In the same moment, Deceit reached for his coat.
The touch was brief, the tip of Patton’s pinkie barely brushing past the burned scars on the back of Deceit’s hand. He grabbed his jacket quickly, feeling his heart rate rocket. “Sorry,” he blurted out.
“It’s nothing,” Deceit said disinterestedly, sliding the coat on over his arms, doing the buttons up slowly and deliberately.
Patton zipped up his jacket, face burning with red hot embarrassment as he quickly walked to the door. He turned the handle, then hesitated. “Deceit? I did really like your suggestion to teach students about anxiety management. A lot of people don’t really think about how fragile childrens’ mental health is.”
Deceit paused his buttoning, glancing at Patton with a curious expression. “Well.... yes. I may not be a psychiatrist like yourself, but I have seen enough hurt and scared children in my office to know how important it is.” He waited for a moment, then joined Patton at the door, holding it open. “We can discuss how best to go about implementing it at the next PTA meeting.”
“I can’t make it, there’s a staff meeting that day about making psychiatric referrals that I really need to be at,” Patton said, his tone coming off hesitantly apologetic.
Deceit took a deep breath, then shrugged. “Shame, it isn’t as if I was looking forward to more of your pastry experiments.”
Patton bit his lip, his stomach fluttering. He felt weird, and lightheaded, and almost disappointed, somehow. “I’ll be there the week after, though! And I’ll ask some of my coworkers on their thoughts. Dr. Picani isn’t a parent so he’s not on the PTA, but he’s been a kids’ therapist a lot longer than me, so he always has some great ideas and advice.”
Deceit reached over to the hat rack, picked up his black bowler hat, and lightly set it on top of his curls with a bemused smile. “I suppose we’ll have to see about that when you get back, then. Good day Sanders.”
And with that, Deceit left, disappearing down the hall and around the corner and leaving the PTA meeting room significantly emptier.
“Bye,” Patton responded—though by then Deceit was already far out of earshot. There was a sudden swell of emotion in his chest, frustrated and excited and confused and all sorts of feelings he didn’t even know how to name yet. All he really knew for sure was that he couldn’t wait for the next PTA meeting.