Sanders Sides One Shots

Married - Analogical

Virgil and Logan are married. Virgil still has his doubts. Logan is there to sooth his doubts.

Warnings: minor anxiety, self doubt

Based off the incorrect quote by more-incorect-quotes on tumblr:

Virgil: No but are you sure you love me, like really sure, I don't want to pressure you-

Logan: We have been married for 17 years

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It's all relatively quite aside from the television turned down low and the other's heavy breathing. Virgil shifts under the blanket, eyes threatening to close, after all the living room is dimly lit but he knows that they shouldn't sleep in here. Not only would it be bad for their backs but Logan would also be mad about not being able to brush his teeth before sleeping for the night.

Except Logan is leaning against him, head on his shoulder, eyes comfortably shut behind those square frames. And Virgil can't help looking at him, the blue light of the documentary on the screen highlighting his features that Virgil's come to love so fondly. Those delicate cheekbones, soft lips pulled into a gentle, tender smile, and his hair soft, absent of product and ruffled from moments of fingers running through it.

And Virgil loves every aspect of him.

But he nudges him awake, out of his seemingly peaceful slumber. Logan's eyes open, blearily blinking up at Virgil for a few moments before looking around their living room, as if he'd almost forgotten where he was. He sinks back into Virgil's warmth, hands coming to cling at Virgil's frame and clothes, muttering something under his breath. And, god, Virgil finds that so adorable.

"Love you," Logan babbles, finally something coherent but his voice still sleepy and soft.

And Virgil still doesn't believe it. Even after all this time. His heart still stutters and his cheeks heat up every time his nerd utters those words. The 'L' word. It's silly.

"Are you sure?" he asks, almost automatically, the self doubt creeping through the door again.

"What?" Logan asks, pulling his head back from resting on Virgil's shoulder to look him in the eye. Except Virgil is purposefully looking away from him, zoning out in the direction of the television.

"Am I sure that I love you?" Logan says, slowly to make sure he has got it right. His eyebrows are pulled into a confused, worried expression. That soft smile gone and replaced with the more commonly present stoic frown.

"I well, yes, but-" Virgil babbles before he sighs, throwing his head back for a moment before calming himself back down, "no, but are you sure you love me, like really sure, I don't want to pressure you-"

Logan looks at him, expression one of clear confusion.

"We have been married for 17 years," he says, as simple as that.

And it's true. Evident by the matching silver bands on their fingers, by the wedding photographs on the wall, and by the home they've built together over the many, many years.

"I love you, Virgil," Logan says, "I've always loved you, for all this time, and I will always love you. Please don't forget that."

And Virgil totally isn't tearing up. Nope. Shut up.

"Hey," Logan whispering, shuffling to face Virgil better and taking his face into his hands, and his eyes are so soft and caring that Virgil can't help the few tears that escape him.

"Are you okay?"

Virgil takes a deep breath, willing more tears away, and says, "I'm fine, I just- you know I get emotional whenever you say something really sappy to me."

"I apologise, darling," Logan says, more than a little teasing and sarcastic, and Virgil adores that little crack of a smile pulling at his husband's lips. So, he kisses him, soft and gentle, eyes closing to further cut off his tears. And the worries are forgotten, his questions of his lovability not even there anymore.

Logan loves him. And he loves Logan. So, so very much.