Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

„Really, you look dashing, Rory,“ Logan told his heavily pregnant wife with an appreciative smile on his handsome face, wincing slightly when said wife suddenly turned around to level him with a severe glare.

“Oh, just shut it, Huntzberger,” she grouched, turning back into the direction of the mirror and glaring at her own reflection now. “I’m a whale. I haven’t seen my toes in nearly a month, I haven’t been able to go longer than thirty minutes without the need to go find the loo and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in almost two months! And all thanks to you and your hyperactive sp-…” She stopped herself just in time when quite suddenly, Milo appeared at the door of his parents’ bedroom, a curious look plastered all over his features.

“Mommy, are you fighting with Daddy?” he asked innocently, looking between his father and mother. Rory turned around once more, forcing a happy smile for her son that not quite reached her eyes.

“No, sweetie, of course not,” she told him, narrowing her eyes slightly when she saw her husband rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “We were just discussing…”

“… that your Mom could use a little break for maybe a day or two,” Logan suddenly offered, kneeling down at his eight-year-old son’s side and looking up at Rory with a raised eyebrow and yet another smile. “Maybe she would like to call Auntie Lane and ask her if she wanted to join your Mommy for a little get-away in that Spa in Boston for the weekend? You know, the one Lane has mentioned once or twice?”

While Milo simply looked at his parents with a furrowed brow, Logan watched Rory intently, cautiously waiting for yet another snarky remark.

“And what, dear husband of mine, should I do there? It’s not like I can go to the sauna or lie on my stomach for a nice back massage if I don’t fancy little Miss Kicks-My-Bladder-Thrice-Every-Hour or little Mister Boxes-My-Ribs-Whenever-I-Try-To-Sleep being cooked inside of me or squished to death.”

Logan winced once more at the heavy sarcasm, but he was rescued by Milo, who suddenly spoke up. “You could go into the whirlpool or just lie on one of the sofas and read a book,” he piped up, smiling sweetly at his Mom. “Or you can sit in one of those mass… mass-massage chairs Auntie Lane told you about.”

“How do you know all about that?” Rory asked, flabbergasted for a moment. She gave both her son and her husband (who was trying hard not to burst into a fit of giggles at his son’s suggestions) an uncertain look.

“I listened when Auntie Lane talked about that Spa place, Mom,” Milo explained casually shrugging.

“You’re something else, kiddo,” Rory laughed, walking over to where Logan and Milo were and ruffling her son’s hair affectionately.

“I know,” the boy replied cheekily, earning himself a poke in his side from his amused father.

“Come on, you cheeky monkey, it’s time for you to change into pyjamas. Mommy and I will be with you in a moment to tuck you in,” Logan reminded his son, turning him around gently and ushering him out of the room with a light swat to his behind. Milo giggled and set off.

“Were you being serious about that spa? You would be okay here with Milo for two days?” Rory eyed her husband suspiciously, to which he rolled his eyes playfully.

“No, are you being serious?” he asked right back, smirking. “Of course I’d be okay, I have done that before. The little one and I will be fine, don’t worry.”

Her face broke into a wide smile.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’m gonna go and give Lane a call later,” she said, abandoning her spot in front of the mirror and giving a content sigh. “I’m sure she’ll absolutely love the idea and could use some wellness herself.” Logan nodded, reached out for her and whirled her around. Drawing her in for a warm embrace and a kiss, he mirrored her smile.

“You’re probably the most erotic and sexy whale I’ve ever laid my sore eyes upon,” he murmured cheekily, his lips close to hers.

“Oh, give it a rest,” she laughed and the two of them shared yet another kiss before making their way out of the master bedroom and over to their firstborn son’s to tuck him in.

Chapter Text

Two days later… at the 24/7 store

“Hey, son. Having fun?” Logan asked, reaching around his son and grasping the small hand that was currently holding a miniature toy and attempting to put it in one of his back pockets. He gently pulled Milo’s arm forward and squatted down to be at his son’s eye level. As soon as he’d accomplished that, he looked down pointedly at the toy in Milo’s hand.

Milo was shocked, to say the least. He hadn’t anticipated getting caught red-handed – and by his Dad, at that! Wasn’t he supposed to shop for drinks at the back of the store? He quickly schooled his face into an apologetic smile, offering the toy to his father.

“I was only lookin’,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze when Logan looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, really,” the young man commented dryly, taking the toy and watching as Milo hurriedly put both his arms behind his back, covering his bum – and more specifically, his back pockets – with both his hands. Logan sighed in annoyance, reached out once again and turned Milo around, eyes immediately going to the back pocket of Milo’s pants. He kept one hand on Milo’s shoulder to stop him from wriggling around, the other, however, he used to reach inside the small pocket and retrieve whatever there was inside. He frowned at the other small toy, a little stuffed Buzz Lightyear keychain, that was now in his own hand, then turned his son back around to face him.

“Tell me, young man, do you know what happens to little boys that steal and then lie about it?”

“Didn’ steal, only wanted to borrow it,” the little blond boy murmured defiantly, rather unhappy at having been caught. He glanced up and about the store to see if other people might be watching the exchange between father and son and even enjoyed watching how he was getting in trouble. Sure enough, one of the clerks who were refilling shelves was looking at him and Logan with interest, taking his lovely time to put magazines on the shelf right beside them. Logan’s eyes followed his son’s line of vision and he sighed. He didn’t want an audience for the spectacle that was sure to unfold soon either, thank you very much.

Putting the two toys back on the shelf and levelling one final glare at the small boy before him, he stood straight again and took hold of Milo’s hand.

“We’ll talk about it at home. Let’s go,” he told him with grim promise, making Milo gulp audibly.

“Noooo! I don’t wanna!” Milo whispered urgently, squirming around and trying to pry off his father’s gentle hold on his hand. “Let me goooo!”

Normally, he’d never dare to goad his already angry father further, but he really didn’t like the odd looks he was getting from that young shop clerk and he felt utterly humiliated at being dragged out of the store. Logan instantly stopped in his tracks and whirled around, kneeling once more and putting both his hands on top of Milo’s small shoulders.

“Milo,” he warned silently, “You have two choices right now. Either you listen to what I tell you and come with me without a fuss, or I’ll smack your bum right here, make you go up to that young man over there with the two toys you took and let you explain to him what you were planning to do and then I’ll carry you out of here.”

Milo’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently.

“No, please don’t! I’m cooooming!” he whined, positively horrified at the thought of being treated like a toddler.

Logan gave a curt nod and stood up again. Without hesitation, he grabbed Milo’s hand once more and abandoned his cart with the few items he’d already been able to place in there before leaving the store. They were at a 24/7 just a few blocks away from their house, so he hadn’t bothered to use his car – a decision he somewhat regretted now. He wanted nothing more than getting home fast and have a few minutes to himself to get his anger in check. He planned on letting Milo have some corner time and having a quick cup of coffee to himself, so he could calm down. Fortunately, Milo remained silent during their walk home and moodily stared into space – at one point, he’d went back to struggling against his father’s hold and Logan, having scanned the street, let go of the boy’s hand. Now that they were only a few minutes away from home, Milo could walk by himself.

As soon as they’d reached their house, Logan made quick business of opening the door and ushering his son inside. “Into the living room,” he directed, his tone booking no room for argument. A moment later, the unamused young father stood in front of his errant boy, looking down at him sternly.

Milo bit his lower lip and looked up at his Dad uncertainly, shuddering when he saw the glare that the man was sending his way.

“Care to explain to me what you were doing with those toys back in the store?” Logan asked through clenched teeth. “And don’t even think about lying to me now.”

To his utter annoyance as well as astonishment, the little boy in front of him merely shrugged, dropping his gaze and fiddling around with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. Logan formed both his hands into fists.

“March yourself over to the corner, little boy,” Logan ordered, his voice dangerously low. “Maybe you need some quiet thinking time before we talk.”

“But, Daaaaddy!” Milo protested in a loud whine, sensing too late that Logan’s patience had run out. The young man reached out, grasped his son by his right arm and purposely walked him over to the nearest corner in the living room, planting an almighty smack on the small bottom that produced an even louder “Ouch!” from his boy. Logan, however, paid no mind to it. He was too angry and he knew he desperately needed to get his ire in control.

“You stay here and do not move an inch. Fifteen minutes,” he ground out, almost not trusting himself to speak. At this, the small boy spun around, not quite believing his ears.

“Fifteen?!” he cried. “That’s too long, Dad!”

“Milo,” Logan whispered warningly, towering over him and crossing his arms over his chest – just to give his hands something to do besides strangling his child. “It’s exactly the time I’m going to need to calm down before dealing with your punishment for this stunt you pulled. I’m quite unhappy right now, I cannot even think straight.”

When he saw the little boy wince, he regretted his words instantly, but he couldn’t bring himself to back down. He needed to calm off first. He took a deep breath and slowly reached out to gently turn Milo around by his right shoulder.

“You stay here, Milo,” he said, sighing when he saw the tears that had already started to flow. “Fifteen minutes, like I said. I’ll come get you when your time’s up.”

He took a step back, glanced at the now crying boy for a few seconds and made his way into the kitchen to get himself some coffee. Before he entered the kitchen, though, he stopped once more and told the boy silently: “If you cannot stand for that long, you may sit down. But you will stay in time-out until the time is up and think about what you did wrong.”

“Didn’t do anything wrong,” the little boy complained, but wisely, Logan refrained from answering and went into the kitchen. There, he promptly sat on one of the bar stools and put his face into his hands, refusing to let out a frustrated groan in case Milo could hear him through the glass door. He glanced at the kitchen clock and silently moved over to the coffee machine, fixing a nice hot cup while debating with himself on how to proceed. His eight-year-old son had stolen something and then lied about it as soon as he’d been busted. That was pretty bad, even though Logan couldn’t help but feel at least a little sympathy for the young troublemaker – getting caught red-handed would make a liar of almost everyone. He was sure that the little boy had been caught off guard and that he had lied because of that. It wasn’t exactly the nicest feeling in the world, getting called upon an action like that, Logan mused. Still, what Milo had done warranted some sort of punishment – and probably one that both Logan and Milo wouldn’t enjoy at all; not that Logan ever enjoyed a punishment he issued for his son, but he particularly despised doling out one for such a serious offence. If he didn’t fancy any repetitions of what had happened in the store, though, he needed to make sure that Milo grasped the severity of the situation.

He finally took the last sip of his coffee and set the cup down on the counter with a rather loud thud. He glanced at his wristwatch – the fifteen minutes were not even nearly done, but he still felt that it was time to go deal with his boy. Feeling a lot calmer as well as somewhat determined, he stood, squared his shoulders and casually walked back into the living room.

Sure enough, Milo had gladly taken up on his father’s earlier offer to sit on the floor rather than standing and facing the dreaded corner. With a small snort of amusement he didn’t actually feel, Logan sat on the sofa and cleared his throat.

“Your time is up, little man,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm. “Come here, please.”

As soon as he saw Milo’s tear-streaked face, he decided then and there that some comfort was in order first. He opened his arms wide. Milo sniffed, hesitating at first.

“Let’s snuggle for a bit, hmm?” Logan offered.

Milo nodded and slowly shuffled over. When he was just out of reach, he stopped and glanced at his Dad’s face hesitantly.

“No spanking?” he asked feebly, making Logan’s stomach clench rather painfully.

“No,” he answered, shaking his head slowly. “Before we’ll get to your punishment, we’ll have a nice cuddle so we can both calm down a bit and afterwards we’ll talk.” Logan knew at Milo’s still rather hesitant look that he had actually wanted to hear that he wouldn’t get spanked at all, but hearing that he could snuggle up on his Daddy’s lap first must have sounded good to the little boy still. Milo nodded, finally stepped into his father’s embrace and let himself be transferred into the young man’s lap.

Resting his chin gently on Milo’s head, Logan gave a soft sigh and smiled when he felt two little arms snaking around his middle and two small hands taking a fistful each of his shirt. He could not see the boy’s face anymore but he could feel and hear his agitated breathing that indicated to him that he struggled not to cry any longer.

“It’s okay, junior,” he mumbled. “If you want, you can go ahead and cry it all out. Crying helps sometimes if you’re sad or feel guilty.”

As if on cue, Milo’s breathing hitched and his sniffling turned into quiet sobs. Logan continued to hold him tightly, carefully rubbing his back and rocking a little in an attempt to calm his son down.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Milo sobbed after a few minutes and it nearly broke Logan’s heart, hearing the distress and genuine sadness in his son’s voice. He steeled himself before answering: “That’s very good to hear, because what you did today is serious.”

He felt Milo nodding against his chest and purposely loosened his hold a little so he could let Milo sit back and look at his face.

“I think I’d like to hear your side of the story now. What happened back at the store?”

“Ummm…,” Milo’s eyes dropped instantly to his lap where he began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

Logan let it happen and patiently waited until the little boy had formed the correct words in his head.

“I was just-”

“Let me interrupt you right there,” Logan’s tone immediately turned stern. “If you are going to sit here and tell me that you just wanted to look at those toys or that you wanted to borrow them, I’m going to put you right back in time-out and you can stay there until you’re ready to be honest with me.”

Seeing the serious look on his Daddy’s face, Milo gulped and quickly changed tactics.

“Don’t! I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“Yes, as you have said already” Logan forced himself to remain strict for the time being. “But being sorry doesn’t mean that what you did is magically erased. What’s more, I haven’t heard an explanation as of yet.”

“I just wanted to… to have them. And… I didn’t want to ask you,” Milo finally admitted after contemplating his next move for another few moments. Logan sighed audibly and arched an unamused eyebrow at his son.

“Why didn’t you want to ask me?”

“Cause I knew you would say no.”

Groaning in obvious frustration and shaking his head, he hooked both his hands under his son’s armpits and placed the small boy on the ground in front of him, between his spread knees.

“So you already knew that taking something that doesn’t belong to you without asking or paying for it first is stealing,” Logan clarified and looked at his son sternly until Milo nodded. “And you didn’t like being told no, so you just went ahead and took them anyway.”

Watching his son closely, Logan suddenly felt the urge to curse aloud – instead of an apologetic expression, a look of pure defiance and mulishness crossed Milo’s face at that point and the small boy folded his slender arms over his chest, glaring at his father’s knees.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Logan prodded at that, feeling his initial anger slowly but surely building up again inside of him. Sometimes, it amazed him how at one moment, Milo was able to see reason and be quick to apologise, only to abandon all of that a minute later and act like a stubborn baby mule all over again.

Instead of an answer, the little boy just shrugged and continued to glare.

“Oh no, junior, you don’t,” Logan shook his head firmly. Reaching out, he gently took the lad’s chin and moved it so he could look him in the eyes. “We’re not done here, not by a long shot and shrugging isn’t going to get you anywhere right now, except maybe lead to a spanking.”

This time, Milo did have something to say.

“But, Daddy, that’s not fair!” he nearly yelled. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“That’s not what I said. I said we were going to talk first before discussing your punishment, but if you choose to refuse talking or get disrespectful, I might as well decide that you have more than earned yourself a few smacks to your bare behind.”

“Still not fair, you’re mean and I don’t wanna talk to you anymore!” Milo grouched daringly, momentarily taking his father aback. Logan hadn’t expected the little boy to still be on fighting terms with him after such a threat, so he stared at him for a minute and watched how Milo upped the ante and stuck out his tongue at him.

“Fine by me,” the young father deadpanned, ominously leaning forward and making a move to grab his son by his waist, but the little boy suddenly bolted and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. Unfortunately, he was no match for Logan and the latter caught up to him by the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs, clearly having had in mind to run upstairs and hide somewhere. Milo squealed when Logan put one hand on the scruff of his neck. Once he had made sure that he couldn’t run from him, he grabbed him by his right upper arm, spun him to the side and gave him two swats to the seat of his jeans. Once more, Milo couldn’t help but squeal. Those swats had hurt!

“That’s it, little boy. As you might have guessed already, my patience with you is gone,” Logan informed him tightly, looking down at him sternly.

Milo could tell that Logan was angry, but he just felt so angry himself that he couldn’t care less at the moment.

“So? I don’t care!” he replied saucily and in a sing-sang voice, to which Logan automatically responded: “Well, maybe you’ll care a little more with a sore bottom. Let’s head on into the living room and try that, shall we?”

Just when Milo felt some shifting and Logan starting to pick him up, he started struggling anew. In one swift motion, he’d aimed a kick at his Dad’s legs and hit him in the shins – he hadn’t exactly planned on it and had just acted on instinct, but the outcome was all the same. Logan swore under his breath and let go of Milo’s arm, which the small boy promptly used to his advantage and bolted once more.

This time, Logan didn’t even try to catch him. Instead, he watched his son run up the stairs with a glare, muttered another few choice words and turned around, stalked into the living room and took a seat on the sofa, trying hard to ignore the pain in his legs. As angry as he was, he really didn’t trust himself to go and deal with his little troublemaker for fear that he would say or do something he couldn’t take back or regret sorely. With a sour expression on his face, he furiously tried to rub some of the sting out of his shins – how Milo even had managed such a good kick that left both his legs aching was beyond him.

Little brat. What was he supposed to do now? He’d already threatened him with a spanking on his bare bottom – and that had been before he’d kicked him and ran away from him.

This time, Logan allowed himself the luxury of groaning loudly. Once more, he buried his face in both his hands and wondered how he was supposed deal with this whole mess. His sweet little boy had tried to steal toys from a store, had lied to him about it, had openly sassed and defied him and to top it all off, he’d even kicked him in the shins. All of that definitely warranted a little more than the usual five to six smacks to his disobedient little bum, Logan mused. But what more exactly? Logan huffed loudly and sank back against the soft cushions of the sofa. Quite probably, he could even let the kick into his shins slide, as he was sure that that had only been a reaction to being grabbed and startled. He’d have to have a serious talk with him about kicking others, though.

Having made up his mind, he stood. He would go and try to have another talk with his son – maybe he was a little more willing to talk now. He could still decide on a punishment later.

Just as he was about to leave the living room and head for the stairs, he saw a small figure lurking at the entrance and peeking at him. Logan promptly stopped in his tracks and raised both his eyebrows at his son. After a moment, he shook his head and sat back down on the sofa, crooking a finger at Milo. Time for round two.

Chapter Text

“Come on over here, little scamp,” he ordered softly, making sure to sound calm and collected. There was no need for him to act overly stern or upset – he could see plain as day that Milo was nervous and a little scared of him right now.

Milo watched his father intently and took his lovely time to make his way into the living room. Of course, he made sure not to come too close and kept himself out of reaching distance. Logan realised that but he chose not to comment. Let the boy come by his own time.

Looking up at his Dad once he’d arrived in front of him, Milo put both his arms behind his back and squirmed around, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Well, that was unpleasant and scary earlier, wasn’t it?” Logan commented after watching his son for a minute or so. Milo scrunched up his forehead – his Dad sounded too calm, almost as if he was joking. He nodded hesitantly, dropping his gaze again.

“I’m sorry for kicking you, Daddy,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to.” Logan smiled, although the smile was a rather sad one.

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” he answered. “You were startled when I picked you up and probably a little scared, too.”

Milo still avoided eye contact but nodded quickly. Logan leaned forwards a little, took hold of both Milo’s upper arms and gently pulled him towards himself, then reached behind his son and grasped his little hands. He rubbed Milo’s backs of his hands carefully with his thumbs and looked down at them for a moment before searching Milo’s eyes.

“I’m not angry at you for kicking me,” Logan told him sincerely. “You didn’t do it on purpose, so you are not in trouble for it.”

He waited until Milo nodded in understanding, then turned stern. “Let me warn you, though – if I should ever hear about you kicking someone on purpose, you and I are going to have quite the different talk about it. You could seriously hurt the other person by doing something like that. Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Milo whispered, hanging his head.

Logan sighed heavily, letting go of Milo’s hands. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do now or how he was supposed to act – even though he’d been pondering on it for several long minutes before Milo had come back into the living room.

“I’m sorry, too,” Logan then said, smirking when Milo’s eyes snapped up in surprise. “I know things got pretty heated earlier and I’m sorry for that. I should have handled it better.”

Instead of an answer, Milo eyed him suspiciously and shrugged. Logan’s grin got even bigger at that, because it reminded him of an image he subconsciously had of the teenager version of his son. Before the little boy before him could feel ridiculed, he schooled his features into a more serious expression, though.

“I think we should talk about what happened in the store once more, little boy,” he then said. “That’s where we left off earlier, before you decided to get all cheeky with me and then make a dash for it.”

This time, Milo wisely chose to stay put and even gave a timid nod. Looking up at his father once more, he mumbled: “I’m sorry, Daddy. I-I-I… ‘m sorry. I wanted to have the toys and didn’ wanna ask, ‘cause you-you… you’re sometimes mean about things…”

“Mean?” Logan asked, a little taken aback. “What do you mean by that? How am I mean about things?”

“You don’ always get me what I want!” the little boy cried accusingly and Logan needed to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. Well, what else was an eight-year-old boy supposed to say? Despite having enough money to buy their son all the toys and games he could wish for, both Rory and Logan had opted for a little less posh approach in raising their son – even before he’d been born, actually. Rory was quite modest by nature, a trait Logan had learned to cherish over the years he’d known her and something he really wanted to encourage when raising his kids.

Looking at his son with only the faintest of smiles, he nodded.

“You know me so well,” he drawled, a hint of sarcasm in his tone that Milo didn’t pick up on, of course. “You can’t always get what you want, Milo. Toys and games cost money and it takes a lot of time for both Mommy and I to earn it,” he continued, taking on a more serious as well as what he hoped was a calm and collected tone. “That’s why there’s your birthday and Christmas, so you can make your special wishes for toys and games and books.”

“But-but-but, Dad, Mommy sometimes gets me things,” Milo protested, making his father want to groan aloud. That was true – and of course, Rory wasn’t the only one who sometimes let Milo have a chocolate bar or a little something from the toy section of a store. Logan had bought him those kinds of things on more than one occasion himself, not to mention Granny Lorelai and Grandpa Luke who both were more than happy to treat their only grandson to a book or a game from time to time, even without an occasion.

“You’re right about that. Mommy and I do that occasionally, and so do your Granny or your Grandpa,” Logan nodded. “But that doesn’t mean that you get to demand for things, son. Your friends and cousins don’t get to do that either, as you very well know.”

He gave his son a pointed look and narrowed his eyes at him. “I do have a feeling that you already know that what you did was wrong, you know,” he commented, to which Milo dropped his gaze and blushed.

“You’re a fine young man and you know that demanding for things or in fact taking them without asking or buying them from the store is wrong,” Logan continued, his voice dropping yet another octave. “Stealing is serious, Milo. Do you know what could have happened if a clerk from the store or worse yet, a store detective, would have caught you? They would have called the police.”

At that, Milo’s eyes turned wide and his ear tips turned dark red. Logan knew that it was probably a little over the top and that his wife would later on have his head for scaring their son like that, but it wasn’t as if he was lying to him about it – stealing was a serious offence and he really needed to get his point across and make Milo realise that.

“The police?” the eight-year-old asked in a small, unsure voice and Logan, hating himself a little, gave a curt nod.

“Yes. That’s what usually happens when they catch someone stealing something from a store. It's no different with kids, especially if they can’t get hold of the parents right away,” he told him seriously. “They call the police and they come and deal with it.”

Again, Logan cringed inwardly at the bluntness of his speech – but the look he was getting from his son now was one of understanding and, of course, shock. It seemed as if he was finally getting through to him.

“But-but-but… I don’ wanna get arrested!” Milo exclaimed, putting two and two together. Logan raised both his eyebrows and acted instinctively as he leaned forward and pulled his little boy into an embrace. Milo started to sob once more. He’d heard about what usually happened when the police got involved with a criminal stealing money or expensive things – both his cousins Jasper and Gideon who were a little older than him knew various stories of spectacular arrests, since they had gotten behind the password of their Netflix at home. He surely didn’t want something like that happening to him!

“I’m glad you realise that what happened at the store today cannot happen again,” Logan replied calmly, choosing his words carefully. “And I’m not only talking about stealing something from a store, Milo. You’re not allowed to take anything from anyone else without the other person knowing or having asked them first.”

He felt Milo nod against the crook of his neck. The two of them stayed like that for another few minutes and Logan debated with himself what he should do next. Milo had never stolen before – if you didn’t count the few times he’d gotten carried away by temptation and had filched some chocolate or cookies from the kitchen cabinet or counter without permission. Or the few times he’d taken it upon himself to ‘get back’ a toy his parents had taken into safekeeping for one offence or the other. This time, however, he’d tried stealing something from a store…

“Daddy, I’m real sorry,” Milo muttered pleadingly with his face still pressed against his father’s neck and collarbone. “I won’t do it ever again. I promise.”

Logan sighed and gently took Milo’s hands from around his neck in his and pried them off. Milo gave a small whine at that – he really wanted to cuddle some more now, and he had an inkling that his father was now going to initiate a talk about his punishment. Sure enough, Logan searched for his son’s eyes and when the little boy wouldn’t look up to meet his, he put two fingers under Milo’s chin and brought it up. Logan’s eyes were dark and steely when he looked down into Milo’s brighter ones.

“Listen, young man, and do yourself a favour and listen well,” he said sternly. ”The fact that it was the first time for you to try something like that really saved your bum from ending up even sorer.”

Milo’s eyes widened. He nearly heaved a sigh of relief but when Logan narrowed his eyes at him, he refrained from that and gulped instead.

“This is the last time I’m going to have just a talk with you about stealing. If I catch you trying to do something like that again, no, better yet… If I get the feeling that the mere thought of you taking something without permission or paying for it has crossed your mind, I’ll put you over my lap and give your bare bottom a spanking as an automatic consequence – and that’s non-negotiable. This is your one and only warning. Do you understand?”

Milo’s eyes spilled over with fresh tears at hearing his Dad’s stern warning, but he nodded once Logan had let go of his chin and quickly avoided eye contact again.

“Milo,” Logan warned, causing the little boy on his lap to look up hastily. “I would like a verbal answer to that.”

“Yes, Daddy. I, uhm… I understand,” Milo whispered with a pout. He hated when Daddy used that particular line.

“Good, because I really mean it,” Logan told him, softening his tone considerably. He felt that he’d scared his little boy enough for one day, not to mention that he’d already doled out three spanks to his naughty backside earlier – something he felt a little guilty about, even though he knew that Milo had been deserving of those. He did regret the way he’d gone on about them. Still, he knew he couldn’t let Milo get away with only a warning now, so he cleared his throat meaningfully and continued: “You’ll have an early bedtime today and tomorrow, which means our plans for a movie night are being postponed.”

“Aww. I wanted to watch Marvels with you when Mommy is away,” Milo muttered unhappily.

“Well, you should have thought of that before doing something naughty, champ,” Logan retorted, but he didn’t sound irritated anymore. “You’re lucky I’m not taking away your TV and video games privileges altogether for the way you acted today.”

Both fell silent after that.

After a while, Milo tentatively reached out and grabbed a fistful of Logan’s shirt, letting it slide through his small fingers. He wanted to snuggle with his Daddy again, but he wasn’t sure if he could just go ahead and initiate a hug, not after such a stern lecture. Thankfully, Logan understood the small gesture of seeking comfort and instantly acted on it.

“Come here, little man,” he said with just the ghost of a smile. He put his arms around Milo and cradled his head, pulling it against his chest gently. Milo sighed and used the back of his right hand to rub at his eyes. Despite being eight years old and therefore almost a man grown – in his opinion, at least – he suddenly felt tired. Logan kissed Milo’s blond head a couple of times and then rested his chin there.

“Dad, are you still angry at me?” Milo asked feebly and smiled when Logan promptly answered: “No, I’m not. I was angry earlier, I’ll admit that, but mostly because you acted up after I caught you trying to steal those toys. I trust you and your promise that it will not happen again, though. You’re forgiven, little one.”

Milo nodded and felt relieved.

“I know someone who could benefit from a little nap, perhaps,” Logan commented lightly. To his utter astonishment, his son didn’t even offer any resistance like he normally would. Milo just shrugged and tightened his hold on his Dad’s shirt. Logan instinctively knew that he wasn’t going to go anywhere for the next hour or so.

“Or maybe you and I should just chill on the sofa and read for a bit or watch TV?” Logan offered – a peace offering of the highest sort, which Milo found even better than a stupid nap.

“Yes, please,” he mumbled into Logan’s chest. “I wanna watch Pokémon, Daddy.”

“Ash and Pikachu, coming right up,” Logan replied knowingly and reached for the remote on top of the small coffee table. He let himself fall backwards a little, pulling Milo with him who snuggled even further into his embrace and turned his head sideways so he could watch what was going on on the screen. And like that the two of them stayed until dinner time finally rolled around.

The end – for now.