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Patton woke slowly, for a change.
There was no alarm blaring to tell him to get up for class or for work, there was no sunlight peeking through the blinds or curtains to shine in his eyes and force him up, there were no neighbors being far too loud for the early hour waking him through the thin apartment walls. He was allowed to simply drift for a while, and so drift he did, the only thing keeping him from floating off into the clouds being the warm weight of an arm around his waist, a warm body plastered against his back.
But Patton was an early riser, and his body didn’t let him drift for long, eager to wake up and start the day. He peeled his eyes open and peeked over at the digital clock blinking on the nightstand, the only source of light in the room, despite it apparently being past nine in the morning.
Patton carefully rolled over in the bed, coming face-to-face with Logan, still sleeping so peacefully despite (what Patton considered to be) the late hour. Logan, unlike Patton, was not a morning person, which was why he kept the bedroom so unnaturally dark.
Patton sighed and remembered the first time Logan invited him over to his apartment, after months of dating. Most of their time together was either spent out in the world, or curled up in Patton’s cramped studio that he’d gotten a discount on because it was so close to the railroad tracks.
Patton had expected the apartment to be rather plain and unassuming. Maybe some science posters up, if anything, and work scattered across the whole apartment. He had been right about those two things, there were quite the number of science posters, and Logan’s notes and notebooks were everywhere, but the apartment was anything but plain and unassuming.
There were numerous bookshelves shoved against the walls, so overflowing with books that they were shoved and stacked in every which way to maximize how many could fit. Mixed in with the science posters were movie and video game posters, primarily Star Trek, but Patton saw some Disney and Legend of Zelda, among other things, as well.
In the spaces on the wall that weren’t already taken by posters (which was a great deal of it, hiding the drab beige paint), as well as on most possible surfaces, there were picture frames. In the frames were pictures of Logan and Patton, some taken on Roman’s nice DSLR, others taken on shoddy phone cameras while they made horribly goofy faces. Other frames held photos of their whole friend group, or just Logan with certain members of it, or even just various members of the group without Logan being there at all.
Patton had the reputation for being the mushy, sentimental one, and he certainly had many of the same pictures up somewhere in his own apartment, but Logan had always been so serious and distant from that sort of behavior. Clearly, he wasn’t as unsentimental as he tried to show himself off to be.
It only took a few more months after that for Logan to ask Patton to move in, and they found an even bigger, better apartment together. Two bedroom, so Logan could have his office to make a mess of and not bring work into the bedroom, and it also gave them more space in their living area for posters and pictures and far too many bookshelves for any two people to have. Their lives, the things they carried with them through them, melded together seamlessly.
Patton was brought back to the present by Logan stirring with a groan, burying his face in the pillows.
“Time to get up, honey,” Patton whispered. “The day awaits.”
“And the day can keep waiting,” Logan grumbled.
Patton couldn’t help but laugh, though he tried to keep it quiet so as to not grate on Logan’s sensitive, just-woke-up ears. He tended to get rather grumpy with repeating noises or too-loud sounds when he was still swimming toward consciousness, and Patton didn’t want the overstimulation to hover over him throughout the day.
Patton placed a series of feather-light kisses across Logan’s cheek and jawbone. “Tell you what, Lo-Lo,” he said softly. “I’ll go put the coffee on, get started on some waffles or pancakes, and you can wake up some more and then come chop up some strawberries for us, how does that sound?”
“Pancakes,” Logan said in agreement.
Patton chuckled. “Pancakes it is.” He gave Logan one last kiss on the temple before slipping from the warm bed. “Love you, honey, get up, okay?”
Logan groaned, but shifted to lay on his back. “Yeah, yeah.”
Patton searched for his slippers as well as he could in the dark before giving up and stuffing his feet into Logan’s. Logan wore socks to bed last night, anyway, and he rarely used his slippers even when he didn’t. He was almost at the door when Logan called out to him sleepily. He turned to look at the Logan-shaped lump on the bed.
“I love you, too.”
Patton smiled and slipped out of the room, padding to the kitchen. He had pancakes to make.