#could be lamp

[rosesisupposes]

Love Language, pt 2

aka Phase I: Roman

Character Tags: Virgil/Anixety ; Patton/Creativity ; Patton/Morality ; Logan/Logic ;

Chapter Pairings: Established LAMP/CALM, Logince

Warnings: none

Reader tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @fellowthomassandersfander @bewarethegrammarpolice @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby

Summary: Logan loves his boyfriends, truly he does. But finding the right way to show it has presented a challenge.

<< Part 1 | Part 3>>

[read on ao3]

Roman was the first to investigate the clatter that had been Logan’s crashing revelation. “Dearest Lo, has someone harmed you?” He rushed in to help pick up his boyfriend from where he still lay, staring at the ceiling. Instead of depositing him on his feet, Roman held the logical side bridal style, grinning now that it was clear that he was unhurt.

“Roman, you can put me down, you know. I’m quite alright.”

“But why would I want to, my dear Sherlock? You’ve crashed to the ground once today, and of the three things in the world you should be falling for, none of them are a desk chair,” the prince replied with a grin, kissing Logan’s nose.

Logan blushed. Being treated like a delicate creature was the most confusingly enjoyable thing about dating Roman. Logan was the solid, staid one, the adult in the room. But with this passionate man, he was handled as lightly as if he was one of the petite princesses from Roman’s beloved Disney movies or plays. Which reminded him - it was time to put his plan in motion.

“Roman, I actually fell because I, uh. Need your help. With my studies.”

Roman deposited Logan gently on his bed, looking equal parts shocked and delighted. “You… need my help? With studying? My dearest Logan, I would be delighted to aid you in your academic quest. How may I assist you?”

Logan cleared his throat, then grabbed a huge tome from his bookshelf. “It’s to do with Shakespeare, actually. I am able to read the words and follow the play, but, well. I’ve read that they weren’t meant to be just words - they were supposed to be performed. I’d like to truly understand them as they were meant to be heard and seen. Would you be able to help in this?”

Logan suddenly looked up as Roman held him by both shoulders, eyes intense as he stared directly into the other’s bespectacled eyes. “Logan, there is nothing I want to do more than perform the works of the Bard for you. Where shall I begin?”

“You should pick the play, Roman. I am sure I would learn the most from your most passionate performance.”

Logan had thought watching Roman perform would just be a good way to connect with the dramatic man. He hadn’t been prepared by how enraptured he himself would become watching the man perform. Despite playing every role, Roman was able to evoke so much passion even as he switched back and forth. Logan found himself breathless, only speaking when Roman encountered a word he wasn’t quite sure of. On this, Logan was able to help, offering definitions and period-specific context. Roman’s eyes were alight as he listened to his boyfriend’s explanations, before diving back into his one-man show.

Logan was absolutely entranced as Roman spoke with regret and sorrow, holding the text.

“For it so falls out that what we have we prize not to the worth whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, why, then we rack the value, then we find the virtue that possession would not show us whiles it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio: when he shall hear she died upon his words, the idea of her life shall sweetly creep into his study of imagination, and every lovely organ of her life shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, more moving-delicate and full of life, into the eye and prospect of his soul, than when she lived indeed; then shall he mourn, if ever love had interest in his liver, and wish he had not so accused her, no, though he thought his accusation true.”

He paused. “Lo, why would Claudio have love in his liver? Why not the heart?”

Logan blinked, recovering from the near-trance that Roman’s performance had put him into. “I, uh. Oh, yes, in Elizabethan England, they held the idea of the four humours governing physiological and mental health. Blood was the humor associated with spring, youth, and passion, and at the time it was thought that the liver produced blood, and thus was the root of all passionate feelings.”

Roman leaned over to kiss a blushing Logan on the cheek before transforming back into the grave Friar, offering counsel to a desperate and bewildered family.

Roman finished the play with a flourish. Logan gave him a standing ovation. It had been nothing short of a delight to watch and listen to. Roman bowed elegantly, flush with success and pride in his performance. That confident smile was too much. Logan slid arms around the prince’s waist and kissed his grin. “Thank you, Ro. That was... beautiful. I really did learn a lot from you.”

“Thank you, Logan, for giving me the opportunity, and for being my dramaturg. We made an excellent team.”

“We did, didn’t we,” Logan smiled, bringing up a hand to cup Roman’s neck. He kissed him long and slow, slick tongues sliding gently against each other in perfect partnership.

When they finally broke apart for air, Roman smirked as he leaned his forehead against Logan’s. “Please, do tell if you ever need another private performance.”

Logan laughed, breathless and content. “Don’t make such tempting offers, dear Prince. I might take you up on it until we run out of plays.”

author’s note: wish fulfillment? i don’t know what you’re talking about, i would never want to flirt via shakespearean performance/dramaturgy, nope, doesn’t sound like me at all. shh.

Text: Much Ado About Nothing, Act IV, scene i

[rosesisupposes]

Love Language

Character Tags: Virgil/Anixety ; Patton/Creativity ; Patton/Morality ; Logan/Logic ;

Pairings: Established LAMP/CALM

Warnings: none

Reader tags: I’m tagging people who are on the Destined list atm, let me know if you’d like to be taken of this one @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @fellowthomassandersfander @bewarethegrammarpolice @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby

Summary: Logan loves his boyfriends, truly he does. But finding the right way to show it has presented a challenge.

Masterlist | Part 2 >>

[Update: now on ao3]

Logan was intelligent. Of this he was sure. He retained many facts and figures within his memory and could retrieve them with ease, from abstract concepts like the Yerkes-Dodson curve to specific data points like the binomial nomenclature for the common red tomato. And he was exceptionally skilled with language, too. He read voraciously, whether nonfiction or fiction. His bedside table held an organized stack of all the books he was current reading. At the moment, that was a textbook on astronomy, Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Akroyd for a break, and a psychology text.

The last was, surprisingly, the odd one out. It was The Art of Loving. And it continued to frustrate Logan. He’d hoped for step-by-step instruction, how to know that one in fact loved another and how to then demonstrate that love. But instead, it was theories of different types of love, and examples of other people expressing love. He was well aware that other people were good at showing that they loved one another. He needed to look no further than his three constant companions and boyfriends.

Logan removed his glasses to rub his eyes. It had been a month since Virgil, Roman, and Patton taking the lead had asked him if he wanted to date the three of them. Did he want to? By the stars, yes. Each of their smiles warmed his chest and made his constantly-buzzing brain pause. Virgil’s snarky quips and shy smiles made him want to wrap his arms around the newest side but also kiss that snarky smile off his face. Roman’s flamboyant ways and constant striving for new ideas drove him the kind of mad that sent shudders up his spine just as it inspired him to keep doing what he excelled in - learning about the world around him. And Patton - sweet, dear Patton, gentle and guiding Patton - Logan often felt as if he just might melt when Patton smiled at him, and nothing made him feel quite so validated as knowing that Patton approved of his recommendations and decisions.

So, quite simply, Logan had said yes to the proposition, and the four of them had spent quite an enjoyable evening cuddling and watching Disney movies together. Logan had been blissfully content, surrounded by the people he loved best in the world.

But now it had been a month, and they no longer collapsed into a “cuddle puddle” (Patton’s words) each and every night. They each had their own duties to attend to during the day, helping Thomas make decisions and live his life as well as he could. There were frequent warm touches and smiles whenever they passed each other, and nightly dinners as one unit. But the pure glow of relief was fading, and Logan realized to his chagrin that he almost never initiated any of the light caresses exchanged, none of the sweet kisses that he treasured so dearly. Nor did he suggest the group activities, or prepare their shared meals. His participated in all these things, of course, and helped cook whenever he could. But he kept realizing the other three were all showing, in their actions, that they loved each one of their group. While he did nothing but accept it. He didn’t want to try to steal one of the others’ chosen modes of affection, and he never could tell for sure when physical affection was wanted and not a distraction until another had already begun. How could he show these wonderful men just how much it meant to him that he was able to share in this polyamorous utopia they’d created?

And thus, he’d turned to Fromm. And had been disappointed. He leaned back in his desk chair, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars mural that his boyfriends had helped him paint on his ceiling. Pat had made cookies and provided encouragement, Virge had taken care of the dark blues, purples, and blacks of the night sky, and Roman had added the glowing paint in the constellations that Logan had picked out. They’d added murals in each of their rooms, starting before their collective confession. The way in which each of the four of them had played a part was the first time Logan had been forced to realize that none of his fluttery feelings were sickness or irrational fluctuations, but deep affection for each of his fellow sides, all at once.

How could he possibly show it or tell them? He’d read so many books that discussed love and declarations thereof but such things would sound ridiculous if he tried to repeat them. Why didn’t he have the vocabulary to describe his feelings adequately?

The thought hit him so fast he lost his balance and fell backwards, his entire chair crashing to the floor. He heard shouts of alarm from throughout the mindscape as he processed his realization.

He didn’t need to find words to share his feelings. He just needed to share words that his loves would love.

author note: in the middle of writing Destined I really just wanted some LAMP and had this idea. I have a vague idea for how I’d keep going if there’s interest