#Janus Prince neé Pater

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 21: I'm Coming Clean

Prev - I'm Coming Clean - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

I can't stay this way, but I pray that nothing changes Like I'm stuck between the gears of a broken machine I'm on fire and I'm frozen stiff Down to the wire, wondering if Today's the day I'm coming clean

'Cause I've got dreams that might not come to any kind of fruition I've got cracks in my façade I might fall between I've got pictures in the dresser drawer I whisper through the bedroom door Today's the day I'm coming clean -I'm Coming Clean by Ezra Furman

WC: 4013 - Rated: T - CW: none -

The next morning, Roman woke to bird song, a muted chorus of robins and starlings and chickadees all greeting the sun. Soft, golden light spilled through the gaps along the curtain’s edge. Sprawled on Logan's bed, Roman was warm and comfortable. Well, mostly comfortable. His stomach growled, a not-so-quiet nudge that perhaps it was actually hunger that woke him and not the birds outside.

He’d burrowed under the covers in his sleep and when he pushed them back and peered over the fluffy comforter, he saw Logan, sleeping curled around a pillow in the chair he’d set up by his bedside. A sunbeam landed just behind the chair, lighting him in an ethereal glow his technical director would be jealous of.

Logan's face was soft in sleep, the near-everpresent tension gone from between his eyebrows, his jaw. He’d removed his glasses and his lids were smooth, eyes darting back and forth in a dream. Mouth relaxed, his lips looked even fuller, an almost smile curving up one side.

He was gorgeous.

Moving carefully, Roman wiggled his way out from under the covers and confirmed that, yes, he was, in fact, proudly wearing bright white boxers festooned in multicolored hearts. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he watched Logan sleep for just long enough to start to feel creepy. Finally, he stood and tried to remember where he’d noticed his jeans last night. It was cool in the room and Logan only had a small throw blanket stretched over him, so Roman tucked the comforter around him before he went to dress and wash his face.

He’d seen Logan make coffee often enough to know how he liked it. After the way he’d cared for him—clearly all night judging by the shadows under his eyes, the very least Roman could was make sure that when he did wake up, there was a fresh cup waiting for him.

Roman gathered the dishes and an empty Gatorade bottle from the nightstand and pocketed his—charged—phone. Logan sighed in his sleep, soft and contented. He was sorely tempted to press just one tiny kiss into his hair but he satisfied himself with a quiet whisper. “See you when you wake, Lo.”

He crept downstairs and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher, then pulled out his phone to check in with his brother.

Good morning!

Re replied almost immediately.

heeey! back from the dead! how you feeling? did he take good care of you in your time of need? 😈

It wasn’t like that

like what? *blink blink blink*

Re…

aw, i’m fucking with you. i’m sure he was a perfect little repressed gentleman.

Mr. Sweet n Sour Sauce, everyone. He’s here all night.

just sayin’… da nile’s not just a river in egypt

Turning off my phone now…

nah, don’t be like that. seriously, he called three times, worried as fuck. then it was like it was christmas day when your fever broke.

He’s sweet.

i can see that. don’t fuck it up

Roman rolled his eyes and tapped at the screen but Re continued before he could finish his retort.

oh, and jannie says to tell him, ‘that’s not what he meant by celebrating but at least he got part of it right’

Smiling despite himself, Roman shook his head, unsure which of the dynamic duo was more cryptic. Those two were made for each other.

I’ll be home tonight, maybe even this afternoon. I don’t know what plans I’ve already disrupted for him.

you really so blind? his only plans are YOU, ro bro 

When he didn’t respond, bubbles popped and stopped repeatedly, Re writing and re-writing some message. Finally, he asked,

what’s stopping you from making your move? he’s obvs crazy about you

It was difficult to tell just how seriously he should take his brother’s assertions. It didn’t feel like teasing and Re knew, really knew how much Logan meant to him. His brother was an ass, but he wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t lie to him about something so important.

It was even more difficult to convince his heart that Logan’s actions over the last day and a half weren’t more than the care of a truly altruistic person. Logan was a good man. He would do what he’d done for anyone… Wouldn’t he?

He wanted to ask how his brother could be so sure. Roman had been wrong so many times before. He’d fallen hard, taken in by charm or misattributing basic lust and desire for something… deeper. Logan wasn’t the type to take advantage of someone, let alone go through some sort of farce of denial of his sexuality. But…

But what if… what if the problem wasn’t with the men Roman was falling for, but with him?

Re sent a single question mark and Roman finished his message, dodging the real question sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach. 

He’s asleep right now. I’ll text you if anything changes, okay?

okay thanks ro. kiss the nerd for me

Roman pocketed his phone, the dream-memory of Logan’s soft skin against his lips fresh and strong. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel it, the warmth, the way his muscles flexed just under his skin. Shaking away the ghostly sensation and the longing that came with it, he picked up the coffee pot and filled it with water.

“Ro!” Patton’s surprised voice bubbled from the hall. “You’re up!” he cheered and threw his arms around him in a hug.

“Thirty-six hours is probably long enough to sleep,” he laughed, ruffling his hair. “Hey, I wanted to make your dad some coffee and breakfast. Would you like to help?”

“Yeah!” Patton grinned and pointed up at the top shelf of the cabinet above the coffee maker. “Use the brown bag. It’s stronger, but it’s his favorite.”

~

Face buried in his pillow, Logan groaned and stretched as he woke, eyes snapping open when his book thudded to the floor. The sound was muffled by the comforter gathered around him. The comforter that had been tucked around Roman. He sat up. “Ro?”

His bed was empty, the blanket completely wrapped him instead. Craning his neck, he checked the ensuite, but the door was open, the light off. Roman’s jeans were gone from where he’d hung them on the back of the door and the nightstand had been cleared. Yawning, he stood, only slightly stiff from spending the night mostly upright. Watching Roman sleep so peacefully, seeing with his own eyes that he was well, or at least on the mend, had made it easier to set aside his worry and finally drift off for a bit of rest for himself.

After checking his phone—no messages from either Remus or Roman—he made the bed, then hurried to change and brush his teeth. He hoped Roman hadn’t already left. It had been easy to behave as though, here, in his room, Roman was already home. Home with him. He knew he’d need to return to reality eventually. Logan just hoped he hadn’t already missed him, that Roman would’ve said goodbye before leaving.

As soon as he opened his bedroom door, Roman’s booming laughter danced up the stairs and his cold, quiet fear dissolved. A chuckle spilled from his own lips, the mere sound of Roman’s jovial voice enough to make him want to join in. He skipped down the stairs, real laughter bursting out when he entered the kitchen to the sight of all four boys huddled around the table and engaged in a friendly—if loud—debate over the best flavors of jelly.

“Apple jelly?” Virgil’s nose scrunched even as he laughed.

“Hey,” Emile shook his head. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted apple Hamentashen.”

“Oh, are those the ones your dad made last year?” Remy grinned. “Mmm, Em’s right. I thought I didn’t like apples until I had those. You gotta try it, Virge.”

The homey scents of fresh coffee and toast and, of course, jam filled the air and Logan stood to the side, watching the conversation. He was caught, though, when Roman turned and asked Patton how he liked his eggs.

“Good morning, everyone!” Waving at his sons and his future son-in-law, he entered the kitchen to a small chorus of greetings. Roman stood in the middle of the kitchen, sleeves pushed up and once again wearing Logan’s apron. “Good morning, Lo. There’s coffee on,” he smiled. “Can I pour you a cup?”

Logan stepped closer. Bright sunlight streaming in from the kitchen window gleamed against the shiny stovetop and the coffee maker, bouncing up and turning Roman’s hair into a halo of almost red curls. The boys chattered, now debating whether Hamentashen were cookies or tartlets, and he kissed the top of Patton’s head when he gave him a quick hug on his way to the fridge.

Their happy voices faded into the background as he met Roman’s eyes. “How—how are you feeling? Shouldn’t I be getting you coffee? Or at least some juice? You must be starving.”

“Patton made sure I ate something before we started all this. I’m really feeling much better, thanks to you. See?” Roman reached for his hand and pressed it to his forehead. His skin was warm, but no longer hot, no longer that frightening feverish heat. Just… wonderfully warm.

He smiled when Roman blushed—actually blushed. He was beautiful when he blushed, soft pink painted over the apples of his cheeks, darkening his lips and spreading down his neck. “You took excellent care of me. I’m certain you lost more than a little sleep, though.” Roman bit his lower lip, holding up a cup. His favorite cup. Logan drew close and inhaled deeply. His favorite brew. “Though, it makes a nice excuse to wake you with a cup of coffee,” he grinned.

Logan had had this dream before. While tonight there was no glint of gold on either of their hands, with the perfect sunlight, the perfectly chaotic and peaceful morning with the boys, and the literal man of his dreams offering him his favorite coffee, this could be nothing but a dream.

He nodded and stepped closer. “You’re always a wonderful way to wake up, Old Heart,” he murmured and closed the distance between them. Both arms draped over Roman's shoulders, Logan smiled and pulled him down into a kiss. Roman’s surprised little noise turned into a happy hum and, laughing, Patton took the cup still in his hand and set it on the table.

Hands now free, Roman wrapped one arm around his back and the other cradled the back of his head. He drew him even closer, gently deepening their kiss.

It was like nothing in any other dream before. A soft need that matched his own drove Roman’s kiss, heat and warmth and softness pouring from him, even as he pulled him close, fingers curled through his hair. Logan melted against him, captivated in a way he’d never felt before, not in his dreams and not in his waking life.

“Alright, alright,” Virgil laughed. “Get a room already.”

Patton giggled. “Oh, leave them alone and eat your toast. Look how happy they are.”

“Jacinta’s so gonna say ‘I told you so,” Emile murmured.

Logan broke away, eyes wide. The butter in the pan sizzled and popped, starting to brown, and Remy hurried over to lower the heat. “W—wait…” He patted the top of his own head and felt his bedraggled hair and smelled the faint smoke from the butter as he struggled to catch his breath. “This… this isn’t a dream,” he whispered.

A broad grin spread across Roman’s face. “Do you frequently kiss me good morning in your dreams?” He murmured close to his ear, low voice rumbling through his chest. When Logan didn’t answer, he pulled back and searched his eyes. “Unless… it was a mistake?”

Logan looked up, Roman’s brilliant green eyes soft with concern. And more than a little pain. “Not a mistake,” he whispered in a rush. “But maybe…” His eyes darted to the table where the boys were studiously spreading more jam on their toast. “Maybe something we should talk about?”

He looked toward the hall. “Perhaps we can go for a walk?”

Smiling, Remy revealed just how much they could hear from the table and picked up the spatula. “Breakfast will be ready for you both when you get back.”

They gathered their shoes and jackets silently, each wrapped in a bubble of their own thoughts. Guilt for kissing Roman without consent clashed with wild, desperate hope, his heart pounding to a rhythm of ‘he kissed you back, he kissed you back, he kissed you back.’ 

Words tangled in Logan’s throat, unable to push out even an apology. They stepped outside, each braced for the same chill the previous days had held, but the sun shone brightly, and the air was fresh and unseasonably warm.

He pointed to the park across the street. “There’s a quiet spot there by the pond, if… if you’d like….”

“That sounds perfect,” Roman smiled and offered his hand. When Logan hesitated, though, he lowered it, smile faltering.

Logan took a deep breath and risked it, lacing their fingers together before crossing the quiet street and heading into the park. The return of Roman’s smile told him it had been the right thing to do.

Dried leaves crunched underfoot, the gentle earthy scent following them down the path. “I’m so sorry I kissed you without asking,” Logan began. “I…” His throat tightened, but he pushed forward. “It’s not an excuse, just an explanation. I… I have had… many dreams like that,” he admitted in a tiny whisper, eyes down on the ground. “Where we… we're—we’re together and… I—I’m sorry.”

“Lo…” Roman stopped walking and tilted up his chin. “Is that why you’re so upset? You thought I was… bothered by our kiss?”

“That’s…” He nodded. There was so much more. “That’s part of it.”

“I liked our kiss,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“Oh.” Logan looked up into his eyes. Roman meant it.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure where your feelings were. This…" He smiled gently, thumb brushing over the edge of his jaw. "Something between us would be… new for you. I never would want to push you or make you… uncomfortable in any way.” Suddenly Roman looked nervous. “I… How…” He took a deep breath, like he was bracing himself for bad news. “How do you feel about it? Is it… Is kissing me something only for your dreams?”

Roman’s hand on his jaw was gentle and warm and Logan wanted nothing more than to throw himself into his arms. To forget why it would be wrong to take advantage of Roman’s kindness, to chase this feeling and…

“I liked our kiss, too,” he whispered, head screaming at his heart, but once the words slipped out, more followed. “I—I want more, I want all the things I dream about with you, I…” He clamped his mouth shut. No. He can’t ask for this. 

Roman’s eyes grew guarded but he didn’t let go of his chin, or his hand. Not yet at least. His smile shrank, though, and his shoulders curled in as a familiar expression flashed over his face.

It took Logan a moment to recognize that the look in Roman's eyes was the same he’d had when talking about Devin. “Are we…" Roman swallowed hard, a tremor in his lips. "In your dreams are we only physical?” 

“I…” Logan shook his head, the words sticking in his throat. 

Confess! There’s no going back now. You can’t leave him thinking you just have dirty dreams about him. 

“No.” Logan blinked back tears and tightened his grip on Roman’s hand, looking down at the way their fingers intertwined, the same way his mind wove their lives together in his sleep. “I… I get to love you in my dreams. We’re together, married sometimes,… usually,” he admitted after a moment. “And… and we dance and play or we wake up together or sometimes we’re…” He nodded, cheeks burning. “Sometimes we’re intimate.” Logan hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Lo…” When he didn’t look up, Roman raised his chin until their eyes met. “Lo that’s beautiful. Why would you be sorry about that? Do you…” Sudden hurt washed over his face. “Do you… wish you didn’t feel that way? Not when you’re awake, at least? Do you… do you not really want that with me? ”

“Of course I want that with you.” He shook his head, staring back into Roman’s eyes. How to make him understand? “Ro, you’re incredible. Brilliant and creative, funny and so, so kind. You’re wonderful and… And you deserve so much more than… me.” His voice broke and he swallowed hard, determined to get through this. And with any luck at all, figure out a way to hold on to their friendship when he was done. 

“I’m damaged. Scarred. Here…” He released Roman’s hand and held up the shameful scars on his left hand, including the newest from clumsily dropping a knife when he’d been startled by the damn doorbell. “And here.” He touched his chest, his traitorous heart pounding under his ribs. “I’m broken beyond repair.”

Roman smiled, tears in his eyes, and cradled Logan’s cheek with one hand, slowly shaking his head. “Lo, you are beautiful.” He covered his hand, tapping to the beat of his heart. “You're beautiful here.” Wrapping strong, warm fingers around Logan’s, he gently pulled his hand away from his chest and lifted it to his own lips, and kissed his scarred palm. “You're beautiful here.”

The hand on Logan's cheek shifted, tilting up his chin and brushing a thumb over his lips. “And you're beautiful here,” he whispered, once again closing the distance between them. Roman’s breath warmed his face, and he smelled like vanilla and coffee and strawberry jam. He smelled like home. 

“Lo, I love you.”

“After everything you’ve seen?” He couldn’t hold back his tears, those soft, sweet words ripped right from his dreams just too much to hear. “I’m a mess, I jump at slamming doors, I work too much, I drop everything when one of the boys calls…” Roman chuckled and moved closer. “Why are you laughing?”

“You haven’t listed a single reason to love you any less,” he smiled, hand sliding back to card through his hair. 

Logan stared, speechless, and he couldn’t help leaning into the soft touch.

“Do you love me?” Roman asked.

“Yes!" Logan whispered. "I love you so much. All I want is for you to be happy, Ro. I want you to have someone in your life who’s worthy of being by your side.”

“‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you,’ Lo,” Roman said, quietly but clearly. Logan stared back, eyes wide. “I never did get to finish what I was going to say that night. I felt it then…” He brushed a line of soft kisses down his cheek, following the trail of tears. Roman's lips burned against his skin, a sweet, hot fire. “And I feel it now.”

He shouldn’t. Logan knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop the words. “‘When you depart from me,’” he whispered, chest warming at Roman’s growing smile, “‘Sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.’”

Roman kissed the tears on his other cheek. “Then ‘thee I will love, and with thee lead my life.’” A gust of wind blew up over the water and Roman turned them, putting his back to the cold and shielding him. “I love you, Lo.”

“And I love you, Roman,” he whispered back.

“Then kiss me.” He lifted his chin, warm breath ghosting over Logan’s cheeks. “Kiss me like you did in your dream. Kiss me like your heart tells you to.” He drew closer, lips grazing his with each word. “Kiss me like you love me, Lo. And let me love you back.”

Logan couldn’t remember anymore why he was fighting this feeling, this warmth. A slow smile spread across his face. “Happily,” he whispered, and pulled him down into their second first kiss.

-

Epilogue

Spring brought longer days, warmer weather, and finally, in May, Remy and Emile’s wedding.

The ceremony was small and intimate, held in the sanctuary at Emile’s parent’s temple. After an oneg attended by the congregation, QLaw staff, and everyone in the newly joined families, a second party kicked off at a candlelit park down the street.

Virgil’s music was loud and boisterous, a benefit of a grass-filled park surrounded by shops that closed by seven on a Sunday and they danced into the night. Taking a break, Roman and Logan had found a mostly quiet corner in a gazebo and they blew bubbles and watched the remaining couples dance.

As the moon rose up over the trees, the music slowed and a quiet guitar melody spilled from the portable speakers. “Oh… I love this song,” Logan murmured, his eyes soft and sparkling in the candlelight.

Attabody, Virge.

Sending the DJ a little two-fingered salute, Roman grinned at Logan. “I know.” He offered his hand and whispered, “May I have this dance, Lo?”

Logan looked up, cheeks a sweet pink that matched his boutonniere, and nodded. Roman draped his arms over Logan’s shoulders and pulled his body close, the soft, easy tempo a wonderful excuse to hold his love in his arms. They swayed to the music, Logan leading in that gentle way of his.

He tucked his face close to Logan’s neck and breathed in his warmth, the scent of spice and vanilla, even a hint of his own cologne. Roman chuckled when Logan suddenly pulled back, a new grin spread across his face. “Wait—how did you know I like this song?”

“You called me your ‘old heart,’ the day you kissed me,” he murmured. “And everytime it plays in the car, you hum along.”

Face hidden against his chest, Logan chucked. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

“But I always listen to you,” Roman smiled into his hair, brushing kisses against his temple and his cheek. “Besides, I like it.”

They danced quietly, the extended version Virgil had created giving Roman plenty of time to phrase his next words. “It makes a lovely wedding song,” he whispered.

“Mm-hm,” Logan nodded, relaxing into his arms. “It does.”

“We could dance to it next year,” Roman murmured, pulse pounding in his ears. “If you’d like.”

Still holding him, Logan stepped back, eyes wide. Roman pulled a tiny box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a silver band. “‘Here, take my ring. My house, mine honor, yea, my life, be thine. And I'll be bid by thee.’” he whispered. “‘A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.’ Will you marry me?”

Logan was quiet, staring up at him with a thousand thoughts swirling behind those steel blue eyes. Swallowing back the fear bubbling in his chest, Roman stroked Logan's cheek and waited. Then the clouds parted and his face beamed in a brilliant smile.

“I was going to wait until we were home.” A soft laugh spilled from Roman's lips when Logan reached into his own pocket and revealed a remarkably similar ring nestled in his palm. “‘And on your finger in the night I'll put another ring, that what in time proceeds may token to the future our past deeds.’” Chuckling quietly, he drew close and whispered against his lips. “You have won a husband of me. And I of you. And there my hope has grown, Old Heart.”

Roman’s eyes fluttered closed as Logan pulled him down into a slow, soft kiss. An entirely different song was finishing by the time they broke apart for air. Chuckling, Roman carded his fingers through Logan’s hair and worked to still his heart enough to speak. A newly familiar fuzziness filled his chest as, instead, he lost himself in those bright blue eyes.

“So is that a yes?” Logan grinned.

Head thrown back in a laugh, he nodded. “Yes!” Roman pulled him closer. “With everything I am, yes!”

-

Taglist: @crossiantgay @emoprincey

Ask to be added for other stories :D

#The Uses of Adversity #ts logan #ts roman #logince #ts remus #ts patton #ts remy #ts virgil #ts emile #Logan Sanders #Roman Prince #Remus Prince #Janus Prince neé Pater #Remy Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Patton Croft #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Janus Sanders #for the tags‚ not a secret spoiler #not for this universe‚ anyway ;) #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #the happy ending is finally here! #the logince happy ending to It Could Always Be Worse #what happened when Janus met Remus at Jack's party and never walked home alone

[edupunkn00b]

Happily Ever After Remus

What are his favorite bands? Does he listen to music when working on game development?

(Sorry if I got the job wrong, I'm in the process of rereading the first fic, so I can remember to read the sequels this time haha)

-g

You’ve got it just right, Anon G ⭐️ Thank you so much for the wonderful ask!!

Remus consistently has music playing when he works and is a huge Queen/Freddie Mercury fan, but has some eclectic tastes, too (usually because the lyrics hit right.) In college, he picked up a taste for Destiny’s Child and—you can never, ever tell Ro—he’s got more than a few showtunes and such in his playlists, including the Fame soundtrack.

He heavily influenced Virgil’s playlist for Jannie and Ro’s anniversary party/wooing Logan (link below) and filled it with more of his (and, yes, Ro’s) favorites, too.

#Remus Prince #Logan Janus Roman Remus Happily Ever After AU #ts remus #ts janus #ts logan #ts virgil #ts roman #Roman Prince #Logan Sanders #Janus Pater #Janus Prince neé Pater #Virgil Croft

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 15: Live to Tell

Prev - Live to Tell - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3378 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, non-graphic discussions of abuse

Janus depositions Logan in preparation for their court battle with Kelly. He tells Janus everything. Well, nearly everything. Everything relevant, Logan is certain.

I have a tale to tell Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well I was not ready for the fall Too blind to see the writing on the wall

A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned 'Til then, it will burn inside of me - Live to Tell, Madonna

Roman stayed until Saturday afternoon. They spent the night on the couch, talking and… to be honest, each had dozed a bit, as well. Logan had fallen asleep first, warm and safe, wrapped in Roman's arms, holding him just as closely. The next morning, the boys didn’t question Roman’s presence and simply greeted him like he belonged there.

Despite his worries, they’d had a blissful weekend together, with cake and leftovers for breakfast, and a thrift store hunt for books and Doctor Who DVDs later in the day. Saying goodbye to Roman had been difficult, with wild fantasies of making a permanent space for him flitting through Logan's mind. But Remy's scheme to meet up the next weekend for the movie gave them all something to look forward to.

Remy’s housemate Emile came by Sunday afternoon after spending the weekend with his parents and they’d all fumbled their way through making sushi with the kit the boys had given him for his birthday. Emile had even gifted him a little matcha tea set, the sakura petals on the bamboo finish perfectly matching the kit from his sons.

By Sunday night, Remy, Virgil, and Emile had driven back up to Bellingham, and Logan had dropped off Patton at Kelly’s for her week with him. Neither had mentioned the papers. 

He took his time getting ready for bed, drawing out the rote tasks. He flossed twice, refilled the hand soap bottles, changed out the towels in all the bathrooms. The weekend’s busyness, his sons’ laughter filling the house—and, thanks to Roman, his own—had pushed away his worries about Kelly’s filing and Monday’s deposition with Janus.

Now that he was alone again, it was impossible to think about anything else.

More times than he wanted to admit, he’d picked up his phone, tapping open his ongoing chat with Roman, and tried to imagine what he would say if he invited him over. Twice, he’d even started to type out the message, but no matter how he worded it, his request sounded… disrespectful. Dirty. Hey, Ro, my sons aren’t home. Wanna come over?

Shaking his head, he went downstairs to finish the laundry he’d neglected that weekend. Once that was done, he moved on to strip all the beds and, in a few loads, had washed all the sheets and blankets. By the time he’d folded the last comforter, still warm and smelling like that Saturday Roman had found him at the laundromat, the first birds had begun their morning calls. Logan made his bed, brewed a fresh pot of coffee, then stood in front of the kitchen window to watch the sunrise slowly open the blooms in his flower box.

When the bottom edge of the sun cleared the horizon, Logan rinsed his cup and got ready for work. If he left soon, he could take the bus in and not need to worry about the traffic over the bridge.

~

“A little odd to be on the other side of one of these, isn’t it?” Janus remarked as he sat across from him in his office. He tried not to listen when Janus asked Beatrice to ensure they weren’t disturbed, though he’d appreciated the way Janus had asked him to bring a stack of files from his office as a subtle subterfuge.

“More than a little,” he nodded.

Humming, Janus flipped through folders on his desk. “I see from the proceedings you represented yourself—”

“You have my court records?” Logan interrupted, eyes wild as he tried to recall what other information might be hidden away in those files.

Janus looked up, a faint frown wrinkling his brow. “I’m your attorney.”

“Right, yes, of course… I—I don’t mean…” He looked down at his hands. Janus was certain to rescind the Assistant AIC offer after all of this. This was even worse than the review of his Q-Law cases.

“Did you consult with anyone?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I… took care of it. Kelly was the petitioner. She… It was… I just wanted it done.”

Logan wasn’t sure if Roman had warned him or not, but Janus started very slowly with the rest of his questions, building out a chronological list of events in their marriage and separation. He captured the boys’ names and birthdays—they’d been redacted from the court record. They talked a bit about Virgil’s birth and his surgeries. Logan even told Janus how Virgil’s genetic screening had showed a hereditary component to the defect in his diaphragm. He admitted how, afterward, he’d had his own genome screened and confirmed he carried the gene.

Janus didn’t ask for more details, so he let the rest of that thread drop.

Instead, he began to ask about the… quality of his relationship with Kelly. Logan bit the inside of his cheek, fighting for control. He’d just managed to win a sliver of respect from his boss. He couldn’t… He couldn’t just throw that all away with some overly emotional reaction.

“We… we disagreed on…” Logan sucked in a slow breath, forcing his twitching hands to calm. Janus’ eyes flicked down to his lap and made a note in the margin of his yellow legal pad. “On a few important things about the boys.” He shrugged, “Like all married people, I suppose.”

He nodded slowly, writing without taking his eyes off of Logan’s expression. “Your parents… disagreed a lot?”

In one breath, Logan was back in his parents’ old rambler in Oregon. He sat on his closet floor, making flashcards, a heavy AP History textbook open on his lap. Surrounded by hanging clothes, with his blanket shoved against the gap at the bottom, his father’s shouted words and his mother’s occasional responses were muffled and difficult to make out.

But the tones were unmistakable. And far too familiar. 

Logan couldn’t stop his hands from shaking so he crossed his arms over his belly, gripping and releasing the sides of his shirt. “Excellent motivation to get a scholarship to UW and move out on my own,” he said, an attempt at levity. His voice cracked at the end and Janus simply made another note on his legal pad.

Janus tapped the end of his pen against his lips and went quiet. Logan had observed him cross examine reticent witnesses often enough to have seen this tactic of his before. Given enough time under his ‘I have all day, how about you?’ gaze, even other attorneys who knew it was coming would start to sweat and say anything to fill the silence.

Logan was well practiced at holding his tongue.

“You were married for…” Janus flipped back to the front page and did the math. “Eighteen years.” Faster than Logan had expected, he’d moved on to the ‘I already know everything, you might as well answer my questions’ stage. “This is difficult. Difficult to talk about, difficult to re-experience,” he said, his voice softer than Logan had braced himself for and his eyes darted up, an unfamiliar expression on his boss’ face. “Believe me, I understand.” 

He nodded, then lowered his head and waited for Janus' next question, shields up and ready.

“Talk to me, Logan.” Without seeing his face, it almost sounded like a plea. “What made you finally decide to divorce?”

Eyes closed to avoid the inevitable ridicule on Janus’ expression, Logan forced a slow, deep breath. Still, his voice shook shamefully when he spoke. “How much of this has Roman already told you?”

“None." Logan looked up, the honesty in Janus' voice too strong to ignore. “Roman can be a bit of a drama king—”

“Excuse me?” Logan’s voice was sharper than he’d intended but instead of looking angry at his interjection, Janus merely looked surprised and… pleased?

“As is my Remus,” he said, the tone of that ‘my’ hanging in the air, as though he noted some other parallel between the brothers. Janus’ smile morphed into a bit of a smirk. “As am I, so I’ve been told.” Janus watched his reaction with interest and for a moment, Logan could have sworn his boss was about to add him to his list of ‘drama kings.’ Logan looked down and smoothed his tie for the sake of having somewhere else to look. “Personally, I think the world could use more drama kings,” he continued. “You never need doubt where you stand with us.”

Speak for yourself, Logan thought but did not say.

“Regardless.” Janus grew serious. “Unless you asked him to tell me something personal you’d shared with him, Roman would not breathe a word of it.” He lowered his legal pad. “And, aside from a very short list of legally required disclosures, the same is true for me. Your secrets are safe.”

He pinched his sides, a distraction from the tears already burning the backs of his eyes. Janus waited, but when Logan didn’t speak for several long moments, he prodded. “To do my job, Logan, I need to know everything.”

Logan deflated, the last shreds of his pride spooled in a tangled mess on the floor. “I know,” he sighed. 

“Was it more than 'disagreements' between you?” Janus asked again, even softer this time.

Logan’s bottom lip trembled, but the harder he tried to control it, the worse it got. He nodded and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Much more.”

~

Eighteen years of practicing law plus two decade’s worth of his own personal experiences had muted Janus’ expressiveness in the face of misery. Remus worked hard to ensure it was a mask he could drop, that he had spaces where he was free to cry and shout and stumble and laugh. His husband spent an inordinate amount of energy and love ensuring he would not be swallowed up and consumed by his jaded attorney façade.

Janus clung to that jadedness now, letting it carry him as he fought to keep a mostly neutral expression while Logan recounted the gradual descent from storybook romance to a narrow escape from Hansel and Gretel’s witch.

It was a familiar story. While Q-Law received most of its funding from its flashier cases, the national attention garnered through their work on major legislation, fancy galas, and private benefactors, from a caseload perspective, a plurality of their work was in family law. Domestic violence cases in particular. Q-Law was there to serve a need in the queer community and, tragically, that’s where the greatest need lay.

What made this story different for Janus was he didn’t need to ask if anyone at his client’s workplace had the faintest inkling of just how bad, just how dangerous his home life had been.

Janus had had none.

Shame bubbled in his chest as Roman’s tight-lipped admonition ran laps through his mind. ‘Maybe you don’t actually know him as well as you think you do.’ This interview proved he most certainly did not.

He turned to a fresh page. “And which of these injuries did you actually seek care for?” Logan curled in on himself, the implied accusation harsh even to Janus’ ears. “That came out wrong, I’m sorry. I simply wish to retrieve hospital records,” he said.

“Do you—” Logan shivered and Janus checked the thermostat. The office was set to 71°F. “Do you really think that will be necessary?”

He frowned and sat back in his chair. Janus was accustomed to clients, particularly DV clients, demonstrating resistance to reliving and retreading these parts of their lives. But Logan was a lawyer. A lawyer who, thanks to his now explainable eagerness to pick up so many of the toughest DV cases, was arguably the most experienced DV trial lawyer in the firm.

What wasn’t he getting about this?

“We’ve only seen the initial petition, Logan,” Janus began as carefully as he could. A spark of annoyance he couldn’t quite suppress buzzed in his mind. “If she alleges any sort of—”

“I never hurt her. Not even—” His voice fell away and his eyes were drawn to the door. Fuck, he was losing him.

Janus looked down at the desk between them. He stood, wincing when Logan flinched. He brought his legal pad and a pen and sat at the other end of the couch, nothing between them now but a few feet of overstuffed leather sofa.

“What can you share, Logan?” he asked softly.

“I…” He sighed, shoulders curled over and he held out his right hand. A vague recollection of a college sports injury explaining away the titanium pins that triggered court metal detectors flicked across Janus’ mind.

“I had surgery at Evergreen for my wrist fracture. Started at the emergency room. There will be X-rays.” Janus’ pen flew across the page. “I left… AMA from Recovery.” He massaged the bone just above his wrist and from here, Janus could see the three little white lines from the incisions. “Kelly came by with the kids and… drove me home.”

“She convinced you to leave against medical advice?”

Logan looked away. “The doctor had called a social worker because my injuries were ‘inconsistent with the patient’s reported cause.’”

Janus nodded slowly and made a few marks on the page before flipping back to review the full list of incidents Logan had recounted. “This was in October 2011?”

“After Patton’s first diagnosis.”

He nodded again and flipped back to the mostly blank page, pen hovering over the sheet, ready for the next set of records to requisition. When Logan remained silent, Janus looked up. “Whenever you’re ready,” he prompted gently.

“That’s it.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’” He stared at Logan, brow furrowed as he turned again to the pages detailing the times their arguments had turned violent. The times that bitch had turned violent.

“That was the only injury for which I sought care.” His voice was stiff. Formal.

“What?” Janus hissed, calm façade cracking as he scanned the list. “You—your—The fractures in your hand?” Logan shook his head, eyes on the floor. “Your concussions, the burn, the—the tear in your lobe, you—”

“Dermabond surgical adhesive was sufficient to stop the bleeding.“

Janus scoffed. “You can’t just order that shit from Amazon!”

Logan merely shrugged. “It’s a basic veterinary supply. It isn’t that difficult to acquire.”

“I see,” Janus said more to his notepad than his client. Logan had used fucking vetbond on himself then went to work the next day like nothing had happened. His employee. His co-worker. Sour acid churned in his stomach. 

‘He’s your friend, too…’

Roman had been wrong. Janus had not been his friend.

He watched Logan over the top of his legal pad. Shame crawling up his spine, he wondered how many times he’d fucking laughed when Devin had sat where Logan was now and remarked how clumsy their quiet co-worker must be to so often have had some sort of limp or bandage or…

No. He couldn’t undo any of that. But he could fight like hell for Logan now. 

“Do you have friends who would be willing to support any of this with contemporaneous reports?” he asked, trying a new tactic. “Neighbors? Anyone you’ve been close with who knew what had really happened and would give a statement?”

“No,” Logan said. His fingers tapped the side of his knee in what more closely resembled a tremor than a fidget.

“What makes you so sure they’d be unwilling to come forward?” Despite humanity's general unwillingness to rock the boat even to save a person from drowning, Janus couldn’t imagine everyone in Logan’s life would be so reluctant to help. With the notable exception of Devin, Logan had always been kind and thoughtful to everyone in the office, unerringly polite and considerate. The first to pass around a card for birthdays or tragedies, despite the glaring omission of his own. There had to be someone.

“We could ensure their anonymity if they’re concerned about… social ramifications. She wouldn’t need to know they’d said anything.”

It was like convincing a rock. He wouldn’t even look up. “Logan, we’ve done it before. Domestic violence situations, particularly when witnesses consider both parties friends and—”

Logan shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I mean I… I have no… confidants from that period of my life. Your, ah…” Logan crossed and uncrossed his legs then wrapped his arms around his stomach, hugging himself. “Your brother-in-law is my first friend in a very long time.”

He looked down at his statement. “You… “ Sighing, he set the legal pad face down on the coffee table and turned in his seat to face Logan properly. “You have been through so much and…” He met his eyes. 

Janus used to wonder how people could be so blind when the people around them were suffering. How people could waltz through their days, ignoring the obvious hurt of those around them. But he’d been just as bad. Just as oblivious. “I'm sorry I never noticed the signs. That I never tried to help you.”

Logan looked away, rubbing the fingers of his left hand. Janus had always thought it a nervous habit. Now he wondered how much the mis-fused bones pained him. And how much of it was a reminder of that fight.

Finally, Logan shrugged. “I made every effort to ensure there was nothing for anyone to notice.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then Janus stood. “Can I make you some tea?” Logan looked up, surprise cutting through his mask. Janus smiled and spread his hands, gesturing toward the little kettle and bamboo box of matcha. “I know I could use a cup. I imagine you could, too.”

Logan huffed. “Got anything stronger than tea?”

Shaking his head, Janus chuckled and pulled his five-year Alcoholics Anonymous chip from his pocket. “Nope.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, Logan. We… we’ve both had our secrets, haven’t we?” Janus checked the kettle and clicked it on, then pulled two mugs from underneath the tea caddy. “How long have we known each other?”

“Almost twenty-two years.”

Janus shook his head. “Far too long to not actually know each other.”

“Perhaps,” he said. 

The water rumbled in the kettle and Janus whisked it into the powder in the chawan, the steam carrying the bright, clean scent through the room.

“May I help with the tea?” Logan began to rise. “You don’t need to serve me.”

“Yes, actually, I do.” Janus looked over his shoulder and winked. “You’re older, so I pour the tea.”

Sitting back down, Logan shook his head, a tiny scowl wrinkling his brow. “I can’t be that much older than you.”

“Very nearly nine months,” Janus smiled as he poured Logan’s tea, then his own, and set both cups down on the table.

Logan’s face couldn’t decide if he should glare or grin.

“Don’t worry,” Janus nodded and waited for Logan to pick up his cup. “I promise I won’t rub it in too much.”

Smiling, Logan took a sip and set down his cup. 

“Besides, it’s bad manners to mock the elderly.”

A sudden belly laugh burst from the ordinarily quiet man.

“Careful there,” Janus murmured, sipping his tea. “Too much excitement at your age can't be healthy.” Shoulders shaking, Logan laughed until there were tears in his eyes and Janus passed him another tissue.

Janus slid a little closer on the couch and smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really laugh.”

“Well,” Logan nodded and raised his cup. “Here’s to twenty-two more years of hearing it.”

By the time they finished their tea, the clock on Janus’ desk chimed six times. “Damn,” he muttered, pulling out his phone and confirming just how late it really was. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your boys.”

“No,” Logan shook his head, turning the little cup in his hands. “Not at all. Patton is at Kelly’s this week. I’m not needed.” Janus frowned at his phrasing and Logan fumbled to explain. “He carpooled after school, and the…” He looked down and the desk lamp cast long shadows across his face, exaggerating the dark circles under his eyes. “The quarter’s started at Western.”

“Hmm.” More shaken by Logan's words than he wanted to admit, Janus took their empty cups and placed them in the basin on the bottom shelf of his tea caddy. “Any plans for dinner, then?”

-

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The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 18: Under the Greenwood Tree

Prev - Under the Greenwood Tree - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Janus and Remus meet Logan's boys. WC: 2260 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, mild innuendo, hidden angst (if you know, you know) - and a whole lotta fluff -

“Okay, then it’s a left at the intersection,” Roman said from the backseat.

Janus leaned over the steering wheel, frowning at the faint white line a hundred yards ahead. That’s an intersection? “Right here? You’re sure? The GPS says to go further up,” Janus asked but still flicked the turn signal.

Roman laughed, “Lo had to give me real directions the first time I visited. Google hasn’t caught up with the street change by the park. You’ll hit a dead end if you don’t turn here.”

“Mmm, Ro's got the inside track!" he grinned at Janus. "It sounds like he could drive here in his sleep.” Re turned and waggled his eyebrows. “Do you sneak out after curfew to see your boyfriend?”

“Lo’s not the only reason I come to Kirkland,” he muttered. “And he's not my—”

Re cackled as Janus shifted gears and cut the engine. “Maybe he’s just the only reason you come in—”

“Re, I swear to god if you say shit like that in front of his kids, I’ll—”

“Down, boy,” Janus purred, patting Roman’s knee as he leaned over and kissed Re’s cheek, leaving it ambiguous which of the twins he was chastising.

“Aw, Ro Bro, you know I’ll keep my teasing positively G-rated in front of the little mini-Logans.” He tried but with Janus’ hand on his cheek, he couldn’t quite manage to put on a pout. “Fuck, what do you take me for?”

“My beloved brother who has zero filter and even less experience with children.”

“Hardly my fault,” he rolled his eyes, grinning. “Besides, they’re kids. It’d go right over their…” His voice faded at Janus’ little chuckle and he shook his head. “No?”

“Patton is thirteen, Muse,” Janus laughed, lifting his hand for a kiss. “You remember being thirteen.”

“And Remy is about to be married,” Roman said, tapping out a message on his phone. “And all of them are as sharp as their dad. They could teach you a thing or two.”

“Fuck, I hope not,” Re chuckled. He raised both hands at Roman’s scowl. “Okay, okay, I promise. I’ll challenge my assumptions,” he grinned. “I’ll be good.”

“We all will be,” Janus murmured. He popped the trunk, then stepped out of the car. They’d parked a few hundred yards from the big castle-shaped playground. Off in the distance, Logan sat on a blanket under a big, shady tree. He happened to look up and Roman waved with both arms.

He might’ve poked a little fun at his brother-in-law’s oh-so-cool demeanor, but Logan stood and waved back just as excitedly. Janus grinned, shaking his head. Dorks. He winked at Re and laughed. “Remy’s the same age I was when we met, Muse.” Nodding to Roman, he pulled out a cooler of drinks and passed it to Roman.

“Ugh, don’t say that,” Re laughed. “You make us sound so old.”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Janus murmured, hefting another tote bag from the car before closing the trunk. “You two will be the third youngest adults in attendance.”

~

“You’ve found such a gorgeous spot here!” Remus’ hands twitched at his sides as he took in the trees and flowers edged along the big grassy field. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, dancing over the grass. A giant playground bursting in primary colors, complete with a castle-shaped tower and big, winding slides filled the center of the park. Janus could practically hear his husband’s thoughts, planning out what to sketch first.

The art supplies he’d snuck into the big tote would certainly come in handy today.

“The park’s remarkably quiet for such a nice day,” Janus added. He’d been privately bracing himself for a loud, chaotic park with dozens of children running about and screaming. But this was… this was pleasant.

“There are no sports fields here,” Logan looked around, smiling at Roman as he set down the cooler. “No soccer, no softball. The parks with the fields get swarmed during Little League season leaving this one…” He chuckled and gestured to where Patton and… Janus guessed the young man with pink hair must be Emile had teamed up against Virgil and Remy. “It leaves this park nice and peaceful.”

“It’s truly beautiful here, Lo,” Roman smiled, stepping closer. “No enemies but winter and rough weather,” he sang quietly.

Logan laughed, reaching up and presenting the leafy, forked branches overhead. “It’s an oak tree, not a greenwood, but come hither!”

“Ro!” Patton shouted and barreled into Roman, knocking him closer to Logan and wrapping his arms around both of them. “You’re just in time for the next battle!” The other three soon followed, granted, at a more measured pace.

To his credit, Logan managed to keep his footing despite the energetic greeting, and held on to both Roman and his son to keep them steady. Janus wouldn’t put big money on it, but he swore he saw the kid smile up at each of them when he did. Sneaky little thing.

“Before you run off, I’d like you to meet my friends,” Logan said, ruffling his sunny blond hair. The boy nodded and, one arm still wrapped around Roman, reached with the other to shake. “This is Janus, and his husband Remus,” he smiled.

“Hello,” Patton smiled. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, mostly addressing their shoes. 

“Hello,” Janus said, laughing. “You must be Remy,” he said, winking when Patton looked up, stifling a giggle. He gently clasped his hand with both of his own and shook vigorously. “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”

At that, Patton broke, laughing. “I’m Patton! He’s Remy!” he pointed at the young man with a bright pink streak through his nearly black hair. “And Emile’s going to be his husband.” He laughed again. “And Virgil’s hiding behind them.”

“I’m not hiding, Pat,” Virgil huffed, tugging the cuffs on his hoodie. “Hi,” he said, reaching first for Remus’ hand, then Janus’. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Virge is the one I was telling you about, the new sound director at Nate’s place up in Bellingham?” Roman cut in, his proud grin only outdone by Logan’s. With the two of them standing next to each other, each of them still with their arms loosely wrapped around the other, Roman looked and sounded like he was talking about his own kid.

Remus caught Janus’ eye and smiled. He saw it, too.

“It’s just a title,” Virgil demurred, shaking his head.

“What?” Emile bumped his shoulder, smiling. “You mean we’re not going to get the Sound Director from Bellingham Blue’s for our wedding?”

“No, of course, I—” His nervousness cracked under the exaggerated puppy dog eyes his older brother and future brother-in-law gave him and he grinned. “Well—I—”

“Brothers, am I right?” Remus murmured with a little grin, reaching out to shake Emile’s, then Remy’s hands. Then he turned to Patton. “What is this about a battle?” He looked down at the toy lightsaber hooked on his belt. “A duel of the fates, perhaps?” he grinned and Patton’s face lit up.

“So which one of you’s older?” Patton asked the twins.

“I am,” they said together.

“Perfect! I have my team!” he cried, grabbing Roman and Remus and dragging them over to the remaining lightsabers and Nerf swords strewn across the grass.

“Ha! He picked me first!” Remus laughed, waving over his shoulder as he followed Patton’s lead.

Janus waved back and started to settle on the blanket. “‘Have fun storming the castle!’”

“Oh, I don’t think we’re getting off that easily, Jan,” Logan said with his own laugh.

Remy tilted his head at him and grinned, and Janus’s memory flashed back to Logan in law school. He was the spitting image of his dad from back then. But so much happier. He glanced over at his friend. Logan looked happier now, too.

“So, Ro says you know krav maga…” Remy began. “With you and Emile, I think we have our secret weapons.”

Emile shrugged, “I learned a little at summer camp.”

“Where the hell—sorry,” Janus interrupted himself, grateful his slip wasn’t in front of Patton. Or Roman. “Where did you go to summer camp?”

“Jewish summer camp up north,” he shrugged. “Half the counselors were Israeli. Army service is compulsory there.”

“We’ll have to go easy on them, then,” Janus laughed. “C’mon, Lo.” He tugged Logan’s sleeve. “We’ll psych ‘em out and say we’re the old folks’ team.”

~

An hour later, Janus lay panting on the blanket. “Oh, it’s been too long.” Remy had also tapped out and he passed him a cold soda from the cooler. They sat together in the growing shade and watched the rest of the battle slowly devolve into an impromptu fight choreography session. Remus took great joy in following the exact opposite of each of Roman’s instructions, but they made it work somehow without any bloodshed.

“So… You’re the Janus from Dad’s work I’ve heard about.” Remy kept his voice low and, face turned to where Roman stood close to Logan, slowly working through a pivot, hands linked together on a nerf katana. 

Still, Janus didn’t miss the way Remy watched him from the corner of his eye.

“Why, yes,” Janus murmured with a small smile. “I am. I see my reputation precedes me.” Remy bit his lip in a remarkable imitation of his father and Janus raised an eyebrow. “I see perhaps not all in a good way, though.”

“Oh, no!” Remy shook his head. “Not—not at all, Dad’s told us how awesome you are, I… But you’ve worked with Dad a long time, like…”

“We went to law school together,” he nodded. “And joined Q-Law the same year, right after graduation.”

“It is you.” Remy said it more to himself and Janus sipped his soda, waiting him out. They watched the others play for a long moment. Finally, Remy looked back at him, eyes cautious. “My parents used to fight about you, well…”

“I’m aware how unidirectional those ‘fights’ were,” Janus said quietly and Remy’s eyes lost their guardedness.

“I wasn’t supposed to listen,” he whispered. “But I’d hear them… hear her at night sometimes and I’d go sit by their door. And…”

Janus nodded slowly.

“My mother used to say stuff about Dad cheating with someone named ‘Janice’. I thought… I’d thought Janice was a woman.” Remy winced, looking up like he expected him to be angry. “I shouldn’t’ve assumed.”

“Hm,” he nodded again. “Your dad’s never mentioned that. And I take no offense for a ten year-old’s—”

“Five,” Remy murmured without looking up.

Janus sighed and squeezed his shoulder. “I take no offense,” he repeated. “And it’s more than understandable, given the circumstances,” he added. They both looked up when Logan’s laughter rang out. Patton was holding him, arms pinned at his sides, and he playfully struggled, laughing, while Remus and Roman circled each other, lightsabers drawn and feinting hits with mock seriousness.

“You and your brutish henchman will never get away with kidnapping the King!” Roman cried, his voice carrying over the distance. Said brutish henchman giggled, hiding his laugh against his father's back.

Remus parried and cackled in his best evil villain voice. “It seems we already have!”

“But circumstances change," he nodded, smiling at the joy on their faces. Remy laughed when he noticed Emile holding up his phone, clearly recording. Virgil stood behind him, one hand over his mouth, muffling his own laughter.

Janus reached over and tapped their soda cans together. “They certainly do.”

~

“And did you see the way Virgil broke out of a hold!” Remus buzzed in the passenger seat, turned to talk with both of them as Janus drove back to Capitol Hill. “He was watching you during the first battle and picked that shit right up! And Remy and Emile are just too cute with their pink and black streaks. Oh," he grinned, squeezing his thigh. "We should do that again, Jannie!"

“I don’t believe I can carry off a green streak in court, Muse.”

“Ah, then another tattoo! You can be boring and get it under your sleeve,” he laughed, winking at Roman.

He knew he was being baited, but he played along. “Need I remind you, Muse, that I am the one who needed to convince you to get your first tattoo?”

“Oh, details,” Remus laughed, stroking Janus’ forearm over the pride flag etched into his skin. 

“You really looked like you were hitting it off with Remy, too,” Roman said from the back seat. His phone buzzed and Janus caught his blushy little smile in the rear view mirror when he checked the message.

“Yeah, and Patton was so sweet.” Remus’ voice, still excited, had grown… soft. “I thought he was gonna fall asleep on you, Ro Bro.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t’ve been the first time.”

“He’s a good kid,” Janus nodded. “They all are.”

“Yeah," Remus said, nodding. "We should get one.”

“I think they’re out of stock at Target, Muse.”

“I’m serious,” he laughed, reaching over to play with the edges of his hair. He moved his hand away when the light turned green. “We have space.”

“For what it’s worth,” Roman murmured. “I think you two would make good parents.” 

“I don’t know if that’s really how it works,” Janus stalled. Before today he’d never considered children as any part of his life. He’d been a child, but then he’d grown up. He’d expected that to be the extent of his involvement in children outside of any incidental work from his cases.

But Janus would be lying if he said today hadn’t left him imagining otherwise.

“That’s not a ‘no,’” Remus said, turning again to face him, eye wide.

“You’re right, Muse,” Janus smiled back at him. They were at another red light, so he reached for his hand and slowly kissed each knuckle. “It’s definitely not a no.”

-

Under the greenwood tree who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. - As You Like It, Act II Scene 5, Shakespeare

-

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The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 16: Shelter

Prev - Shelter - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Dinner and Janus and Remus' house.

WC: 3706 - Rated: T - Mild innuendo (oh, hello there, Remus), some swearing, fluff, and a pair of tiny red jogging shorts

Acquiescing to Logan’s insistence that he at least help wash the cups from their tea, Janus inclined his head with a grateful smile. “If you think you’re going to get away with that in my house, though, you’ve got another thing coming.” Despite his deadpan tone, Logan laughed again and Janus grinned. “You think I’m kidding. Remus’ll sooner tie you to a chair than let you clean up by yourself.”

“Duly warned,” Logan nodded, still smiling. The tight grip he kept on the little basin and the stiffness around his eyes made it clear to Janus he wasn’t as ‘fine’ as he was trying to appear, but his smile had been genuine.

“Speaking of,” Janus added, unlocking his phone and tapping away. “I’ll warn him to be dressed when we get there.”

“That’s not actually a possibility, is it?” Logan’s eyes widened, flicking over to the photograph on his desk.

“To see him is to know him,” he muttered without thinking. “Just be glad you’ve already met Roman. Re won’t try to convince you he’s him.”

Logan laughed, a thin, unsure sound. “Unlikely to work.”

“It’s how we met,” Janus shrugged, smiling when Logan set down the basin and gave him his full attention. “He’d nearly convinced my friend—Jack. From Law School? You remember him?”

“We weren’t close,” he nodded. “But yes. He moved to D.C. five years ago. He represents a crypto firm.” Disgust scrunched his nose for a moment before he shrugged. “Lobbying.”

Janus frowned. Sure, he knew far too many details of each and every one of Jack’s conquests, but didn’t know where he worked or even what city he lived in now. Different definitions of ‘close,’ he supposed. 

“Well, at one of Jack’s legendary parties, Re had tried to convince him he was really Roman. When he confessed, Jack kicked him out of bed. I ran into him on the stairs outside and we…” Janus shrugged and bit back the rest of that story. He’d promised Roman. “It was… instant connection,” he murmured, watching the little bubbles on his phone as Remus tapped out a message. “Meant to be, I suppose,” he smiled at Logan.

Logan nodded and picked up the basin. “Perhaps it’s best I pretend I don’t know all of that. I can’t imagine Remus feeling comfortable with my level of knowledge of his… personal history.”

“Are you kidding?” Janus laughed, shaking his head at the message Remus sent back. “He incorporated that story in his wedding vows.”

~

“Muse?” Janus called as he opened the door. “We’re here.” 

“In the kitchen!” a voice that was nearly Roman’s called back. Janus held the door for him and nodded gratefully when he immediately slipped off his shoes and set them on the small rack in the alcove. “You’ve just become Remus’ favorite.”

‘You’re sure this is alright?” Logan murmured just before Remus stepped out of the kitchen and pulled Janus into a kiss.

“Welcome home,” Remus grinned, a sharper, slightly crooked version of Roman’s happy smile. “And welcome here,” he said to Logan, laughing. “Nice tie,” he added, outstretched fingers just shy of brushing over the silk brocade. “Were you in court today or were you just trying to show Jannie here how to dress?”

“I have five different ties in my office,” Janus grumbled, the smile behind his words obvious even to Logan.

Remus winked at him before playing with Janus’ open collar. “I’m just sayin’” he grinned, adoration in his eyes as he looked back at his husband. “I love a man in a good tie.”

“Mm-hm,” Janus chuckled, hand resting at the small of Remus’ back like it was meant to be there. “Come inside, please.” He ushered Logan toward the kitchen. The rest of the house was quiet. “Dinner will be ready soon,” Remus grinned, watching Janus’ expression.

He scrunched his nose and looked toward the oven. “What have you done with my rib recipe?”

Remus gasped dramatically, one hand splayed over his chest, and the resemblance between the brothers couldn’t have been more clear. “Your recipe?” He glanced quickly over Janus’ shoulder and met Logan’s eyes, winking again.

Logan felt his face melt into a smile and he nodded back, appreciating the little signal that he hadn’t walked into an actual disagreement.

“That is my rub you used…” Remus plucked another apron off a hook near the refrigerator and stroked Janus’ arm suggestively as he put it on him, a smooth, practiced maneuver. 

“Thank you, Muse,” Janus murmured, almost absently turning to kiss his cheek before he narrowed his eyes at the oven. A smile tugged at his lips. “Let’s see what the damage is,” he murmured, warmth and no heat behind his words.

Remus launched himself up on the counter and watched Janus pull out a baking tray of broiled spare ribs. His eyes fell shut, seemingly automatically as the fragrance of brown sugar, paprika, chili powder and something Logan couldn’t determine filled the air. “Ah?” Remus grinned, swinging his feet back and forth. “What’d I tell you?”

Without looking up, Janus reached toward a drawer. Remus had already opened it, pulled out three spoons and placed them in Janus’ hand. He dipped each one in a bit of the excess sauce and offered one each to Remus and Logan.

Counting the spoons, Logan’s eyes darted out toward the rest of the house as he tasted the sauce. “Wow,” he blurted out. “This is…” Feeling a little silly, he popped the spoon back in his mouth as he tried to think of something more intelligent to say. “Is that cayenne?”

“Yep!” Remus grinned, licking his spoon clean and collecting the used utensils before taking them to the sink.

Still trying to keep up the bit, Janus slid the ribs back into the oven, something between a smirk and a frown on his face. “They need five more minutes for the sauce to settle.”

“Mm-hm” Remus hummed, hugging him from behind. “I could tell you just hated it by the way you cleaned your spoon.” Planting a little kiss at the corner of his jaw, he grinned. “I’ll get the plates.”

Again, Logan looked around at the three of them. “Oh… Is, um…” He was hesitant to appear unhappy with the present company, but the twinge of disappointment in his chest compelled him to speak. “Is Roman… out?” Logan asked. 

“Just on a run,” Remus grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “He’ll be—”

“Fuck!”

Logan jumped when the front door swung open, banged into the door stop with a dull thud.

“It is hot as Hades out there!” Roman’s voice continued, accompanied by the dull, rubbery thud of sneakers hitting the floor.

“Uh, Ro?” Remus winked at Logan with a little smile. If he’d noticed his startle, he was kind enough to not tease him about it.

“They’re going in the rack, don’t worry,” he laughed from the hall, his voice growing louder as he approached the kitchen. “Who would’ve ever guessed you’d end up the neat—Logan!”

Roman stopped in the doorway and stared. Cheeks flushed and hair drenched with sweat, a flush traveled all the way down his bare chest. A heavy five o’clock shadow dusted his jaw and upper lip but his chest was completely smooth—did he wax?—and perspiration glistened against his tanned skin. Further testament to the heat, he wore only crimson red running shorts, hung low on his hips and revealing  the top of a dark trail of hair below his navel, peppered with a half dozen silver hairs.

“Did you go for a run or a swim?” Remus laughed and tossed him a kitchen towel. 

Logan dragged his eyes back up to Roman’s face and he prayed to anyone who would listen no-one had caught him ogling his friend. Roman’s face bloomed into a smile, and he caught the towel without looking away from him. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he murmured, dabbing the towel over his hair.

“Hey, neither did he,” Remus laughed as he slid between them on his way to the counter.

“Muse…” Janus called from the dining table and Remus waggled his fingers in a little wave before gathering a stack of plates and napkins.

“I—it—it was a last minute invitation.” Logan searched his eyes for irritation at his presence. “If I'm intruding, I can—”

“No!” Roman stopped drying his hair and shook his head as he stepped closer. “No, you could never intrude,” he murmured. “I’m a…” he laughed, looking down as he scrubbed at his chest with the now damp towel. “I’m a bit of a mess, I…” 

“You’re not a mess,” Logan whispered, the words spilling out before he could stop them. 

Roman stopped drying. “Yeah?” 

Logan nodded, words evaporating under the warmth of Roman’s smile.

“Muse, would you bring the—” Janus filled the sudden silence and Logan looked up just as Remus pressed a pitcher into his husband’s hand and shook his head. 

“Nope,” he grinned and shimmied his shoulders at Janus’ low chuckle.

“Thank you, my dear.” He smiled, soft and heated and like nothing Logan would have ever guessed from his typical office demeanor. He lifted Remus’ now empty hand for a kiss and murmured something too quiet to carry out to the kitchen.

Logan’s embarrassment at catching his boss—his new friend?—in such a quietly intimate moment dissolved when he turned and saw Roman had been watching them, too. “Are they always like this?” he whispered.

Roman nodded without looking away, a longing painting his features. A memory flashed through Logan’s mind, of Roman’s eyes as he’d described traveling the world in an attempt to outrun his jealousy, that same emptiness in his gaze. 

Something shifted in Roman’s eyes, though, as he turned and smiled at Logan. The prickly sadness dissolved and Logan felt his own cheeks warm at the rapid change. It was almost as though… “I’m… I’m really glad you’re here, Lo.”

“I am, as well,” he whispered back, stepping closer. “I—”

The oven timer dinged and Janus returned to the kitchen, giving each of them a quick nod. “There’s time for a shower, if you like,” he said to Roman as he pulled a baking dish from the oven, a warm gust of spices and brown sugar billowing out. “The ribs need to rest and I still need to make the salad.”

“May I help?” Logan asked and Remus leaned over the counter, grinning.

“I wouldn’t pass up that offer, Ro Bro,” he cackled.

Roman snapped him with the towel and Remus yelped dramatically. “With the salad, Re,” he glared before turning again to Logan. “Sorry,” he muttered, cheeks even brighter than they’d been when he’d first returned from his run.

“It is quite alright, I…” Logan nodded, looking between the brothers, brow furrowed in confusion. After a moment, Remus’ joke landed and his eyes widened. “Y—yes, I—I—I meant th—the salad,” he stammered.

“I know.” Roman smiled back, that gentle grin melting away Logan’s dis-ease.

Janus handed him a cutting board and a bowl of raw tomatoes and vegetables. “I’d appreciate the help,” he murmured and Roman flashed him another grin before running up the stairs three at a time, muscles in his calves and thighs bunching and stretching before he disappeared at the landing.

Save for the clink of measuring spoons against glass as Janus poured oil and vinegar into a bowl, the kitchen had grown quiet and Logan cleared his throat. He found a spot on the counter near a magnetic strip of knives and settled in to chop the spinach. 

Remus tossed spices into Janus’ mixing bowl as he blended the dressing. “Oh, and, uh, Jannie?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Muse?” he said, pausing his whisking. Their soft pet names were a signal to Logan and he devoted himself to his next task of wedging the tomatoes, eyes trained on the cutting board.

“Told ya so,” he chuckled quietly to some private joke between them. Roman was right, it took effort for both of them to be aware of anything outside each other.

Janus hummed. “It certainly appears you did, Muse.” 

He shook in a little more pepper then, winking at Jannie, and gave the pepper mill another turn. “I think that’s probably enough,” he laughed.

“You sure? You know I don’t mind grinding a bit more,” he murmured near his ear. 

“I believe it’s enough spice for now.” Jannie raised his hand, then at the last moment, turned it over and nipped at the inside of his wrist. “Later,” he mouthed, smiling against his skin.

Jannie’s eyes had finally dropped their shields and Remus couldn’t help a little dance before settling against his shoulder. Curling one arm around his hips, he sighed, content. Jannie hadn’t come home with that dark, haunted expression in… a few years, at least. He didn’t know Logan well enough to know if this was just his normal face, but he looked like hell, too. Jannie’s text had promised he’d explain all he could later, but whatever they’d gone through today hadn’t been good. Jannie’s kisses were steeped in peppermint, an even bigger tell than his expression. 

At least tonight it was just peppermint.

As he pondered, Remus watched Logan work. Whether as an attempt to give them a little privacy or to hide the way he’d just spent the last ten minutes checking out Ro, the twitchy lawyer faced the other counter, back turned to them.

Freddie Mercury’s wail broke the silence and Logan jumped, pausing his slicing. He took a deep breath and the knife resumed its rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk against the cutting board. Remus’ phone wailed again, so he pulled it out, still leaning lightly against Jannie’s back. Remus barely stifled a laugh when he saw what Ro had sent.

Re? Help! Which one? Which shirt looks better?? Emergency!!!!!!! 

He’d included two mirror selfies, one with a slutty vermillion tee, the other a fancy-pants button down the same color as the flowers on Logan’s tie.

you know he’d probably be just as happy to see you shirtless again, ro bro… unless you somehow missed the way his jaw hit the floor when you walked in…

If you can’t be serious ask Janus.

i could always ask logan which he likes better. he’s right here, you know, tossing your salad…

Remus bit his lip, shoulders shaking, as he watched the little bubbles pop on his phone. Jannie looked over his shoulder and chuckled at the pictures. “Carry on,” he murmured.

He only let Ro stew for a minute more before tapping out a real answer. 

wear the blue leave the top four buttons undone and roll up the sleeves. show him a little of what he wants…

They’d just set the salad and dressing on the table when Ro skittered down the stairs. Remus didn’t look up when he heard his brother’s footsteps slow about half-way down, his grand entrance carefully choreographed.

Logan looked up from where he’d been folding napkins and while he probably didn’t catch it, Ro was doing that thing where he flexed his shoulders and pushed out his chest. One review fifteen years ago mentioned how poised and royal his King Leer had been and he’d just latched on to that motherfucker like nothing else, especially when he was nervous. Once he saw it, Remus couldn’t unsee it and he’d started calling him every time he spotted his brother’s tits-out pose in interviews or at plays.

It seemed like this time, though, his nervousness was met with just as much interest as he was hoping for. Logan looked up and turned from the table with a half-folded napkin still in his hand, then moved toward the staircase like Ro was the fucking Pied Piper.

Remus met Jannie’s eyes, but instead of laughing, he smiled back with… relief.

~

Janus’ gentle hint that he reeked after his run and needed a shower if he was to remain pleasant company had come just in time. Roman sudsed up quickly, briefly ruing the lack of time as his hands scraped against the stubble on his jaw. He’d overslept that morning and had left in a rush. If he’d known Logan was coming over, he would’ve shaved before his run, but then…

Oh, who was he kidding? If he’d known Logan was coming over for dinner, he would’ve spent the entire afternoon fussing over what he’d wear. Suds rinsed away, he turned off the water and wrapped an old tee shirt around his head. If he didn’t have time to deep condition, at least he could not make the frizz worse with a towel. 

He patted himself dry in front of his open closet and snatched up the first pair of jeans he touched. That was an easy decision. What to wear on top was a different story.

Desperate, he picked up his phone and asked Re’s opinion. Too desperate. Scoffing at his brother’s ludicrous suggestion, he his thumbs flew across the keyboard.

Don’t you dare ask him! He’s going through enough without you drowning him in innuendo. If if if if if if if IF he was looking, I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose and you’ll just put him in an uncomfortable position and maybe even make him leave and if you hurt him, so help me I will—

But before he could hit send, his brother managed to send back an actually helpful response. Even so, the threat of Remus showing Logan his panicked question loomed overhead, spurring him to dress like a backstage quick change.

He gave himself one more check in the mirror, raking his fingers through his still-damp hair. There wasn’t time to dry it but it’s not as though he needed to somehow disguise the fact that he’d just showered. 

Hurrying downstairs, Roman stopped himself a few steps down and took a slow, deep breath. He closed his eyes and focused on the memory of Logan’s sudden smile when he entered the kitchen. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled and his soft blush when he met his eyes. Could Re be right? Had Lo… had Lo really been looking at him? 

There was a… a charge between them. Of course Roman couldn’t deny his own feelings. He’d never really gotten over his old crush and the more he got to know Lo, really know him, the more he wanted to. The more he was sure Lo held his heart in his hands.

And there were times that Roman was almost positive that energy, that interest wasn’t all one-sided, either.

He let out one more slow breath, relishing that glow of hope in his chest and walked down the rest of the flight at a more measured pace. When he reached the landing, instead of bustling around the table with Janus and Re, Lo stood by the stairs to greet him. 

“Everything smells wonderful,” he smiled, checking his sleeves one more time. He’d taken his brother’s advice to roll them up for a more casual look but he’d ignored the direction to leave his shirt half-undone and stuck with unbuttoning just the first three. 

Lo nodded, then blushed and gestured toward Janus and Re. “You have the privilege of staying with some fine chefs,” he murmured and followed him to the table.

“Cooking’s not a chore when it’s for people you care about,” Janus bowed his head. 

“Or people you wanna poison,” Remus laughed.

Shaking his head fondly, Janus blew a kiss in his direction. “Please, everyone, have a seat.” With a little shimmy, his brother moved like he meant to sit between him and Logan, and he moved closer before Re tried anything. 

Re’s little smirk as he sauntered around the table to sit next to Janus revealed it had all been a feint and Roman’s eyes darted over to Lo’s to see if he’d noticed. It appeared he had not. “Shall we?”

Once they’d all settled into their seats, Re resumed his single-minded focus on Janus. Both he and Logan deflected questions about their day and Re caught his eye. Neither had missed the heavy scent of mint of Janus’ breath, an easy tell that he’d been feeling the call of his real vice. Roman just wasn’t sure if Re knew why.

Lo’s eyes clouded for a moment before he turned to him and smiled. “How did the first round of summer auditions go?”

Laughing, Roman nodded. “Great, thanks to you.” He looked around the table. Re and Janus were wrapped up in each other, bickering playfully over the proper way to eat ribs. “I…” In the tumult of the custody filing and everything Lo had shared with him, he’d completely forgotten about the auditions this morning, saved only by Lo’s good night text wishing him well for the first round. 

When he’d first read the message, Roman couldn’t figure out how he knew and had wracked his brain before he finally remembered mentioning the date while they’d been at the theatre a month before. “How did you remember when they were happening?” he laughed, brushing the back of Lo’s hand. “I’d forgotten they were today.” 

“Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged. “You were so excited about it,” Lo grinned and stabbed a forkful of salad. “So how did it go?”

~

“Everything was wonderful,” Lo said, smiling as he waved off Janus’ offer of seconds. “Thank you,” he added, meeting his eyes. “For everything.”

Janus bowed his head, uncharacteristically demure. “It was my pleasure, Logan. And long overdue.”

“Yeah, we should make this a regular engagement,” Re piped up. “Dontcha think so, Ro?”

If Roman’s legs were longer he would’ve kicked his brother in the shin.

“I… I wouldn’t want to impose, but… perhaps…” Lo met his eyes first and Roman nodded, ready to agree with whatever he had in mind. Bolstered, Lo’s smile grew and he looked at Janus and Re. “Perhaps you’d all like to have dinner at my house next?” He shrugged, that gentle permission to disregard his words. Unable to remain still, Roman reached under the table and squeezed his hand, nodding encouragingly. “Patton will be home next week.” He smiled at Re. “He’d like to meet you, especially. Hear some sibling stories. Unless—”

His hand twitched in Roman’s grasp but before he could pull away, Lo laced their fingers together. “Unless you think that wouldn’t be appropriate,” he looked at Janus now, eyebrows knotted in worry.

Re wore his confusion plainly on his face but he seemed to know more than Roman might have guessed because he stayed quiet. Janus just grinned. “I’d love to get to meet your son. What day did you have in mind?”

-

There's no one else, could ever hold me like you do There's nowhere else, that I'd rather be than with you They call us lucky, but I think we might be cursed 'Cause the way you love me I could drink the river dry and still die of thirst

Give me, give me shelter from the storm Give me, give me shelter, keep me warm Come kiss me by the delta, where the river's torn But I'll be whole As long as I'm yours

Yours - Shelter by FINNEAS

I still want to drown whenever you leave Please teach me gently how to breathe

And I'll cross oceans like never before So you can feel the way I feel it too - Shelter by Birdy, covered by the XX

Taglist: @crossiantgay

Please ask to be added, my old list is horrifically out of date :D

#The Uses of Adversity #ts logan #ts janus #ts remus #ts roman #logince #slow burn #have we moved to the mutual pining stage? #dukeceit #demus #Logan Sanders #Roman Prince #Remus Prince #Janus Prince neé Pater #the logince happy ending for it could always be worse

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 19: The Discovery

Prev - The Discovery - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Janus and Logan in court. Everything comes to light. Everything. A light against the darkened sky Your truth must outshine all the lies, it seems But from the outside looking in I say I'll move mountains! - I’ll Move Mountains by Roo Panes

WC: 4266 - Rating: T - CW: infidelity discussed, homophobia (oh, hello, Karen) -

“I just got back from court,” Logan said, poking his head into Janus’ office. Janus was surrounded by stacks of redwells, bursting with case files and xeroxed sheets of paper. “Beatrice said you needed to see me.”

“Yes,” Janus nodded and waved him in toward the couch. His mouth was set in a tight, thin line. “Shut the door and have a seat,” he said, closing one of the files. “Please.”

Logan sat down, hands folded over the files in his lap. He watched silently as Janus popped a handful of peppermint Altoids in his mouth and crunched. Not a good day for him. Finally, he spoke.

“They sent the discovery.” Janus was quiet for a moment, then got up to make tea.

Janus didn’t need to say who ‘they’ was. “I see it’s good news, then,” Logan remarked dryly, stiffening in his seat and adjusting his glasses.

Janus huffed out a little laugh. “Yeah.” He opened the box of matcha and scooped out two generous teaspoonfuls before glaring at the collection of files on his desk. “Even setting aside how they ran out the clock and only sent all that the day before our first hearing… No, it’s really not good.” The kettle clicked and Janus poured the hot water over the matcha, stirring rapidly with the little bamboo whisk. He set the first cup in front of Logan, then prepared the next. “Does the name Jessica Michaels ring a bell for you? This would’ve been… early 2000s. She was a—”

“She was a marriage counselor we saw shortly after Virgil was born. After…” Logan gestured vaguely with his left hand. Janus nodded, mouth turned down in a scowl. “We met once a week for… four and a half years.”

Janus set down his tea next to Logan’s, then gathered the thickest redwell of documents and sat next to his friend. “I don’t know if you were aware at the time, but… she wasn’t an actual counselor. She was a…. “ Janus fished through the documents and pulled out a C.V. with her credentials. “A ‘women’s fellowship leader’ at Ms. Croft’s church. Layperson, not a member of the clergy.” Janus folded his hands over the worn cover of the file holder. “There was no patient confidentiality in anything discussed during those sessions. Nor any documents… or journals used.”

Logan paled and his breathing grew shallow. Hands shaking, his tea threatened to spill over the edge and the cup clunked heavily as he set it down. He eyed the redwell on Janus’ lap like it might grow fangs and bite him. “Tha—that’s what you have in there?”

“Copies, yes.” Janus gripped the redwell, tapping it while he thought. “I’ve already filed a motion to have the journals and any notes from those sessions suppressed, with the originals returned to you due to the fact that any reasonable person would’ve believed they’d been collected under the rules of patient confidentiality.” He let out a low sigh. “If that fails, I plan to request copies of the full documents. These are… excerpts. We need the full context and—”

“I know the context,” Logan said quietly. “Those are my dream journals. Recording and sharing them in session was meant to foster an environment of ‘trust and open communication.’” Logan drowned the bitterness in his voice with the tea and stared down into the now-empty cup. “Have you read them?”

“I stopped once I saw what they were.”

Logan looked away. “But you saw enough.”

“I did.”

The two men let the silence sit between them for several minutes. Janus took Logan’s empty cup and prepared him more tea, then resumed his seat next to him. “If the motion to suppress is denied,” Logan’s voice was stronger than Janus would’ve expected given his pallor and the lingering tremor in his hands. “We need to ensure the court redacts any details that could be used to identify him.” Logan shook his head, jaw trembling. “I can’t have Roman dragged into this mess.”

Janus sighed again and opened the redwell. He pulled out a thick blueback petition and passed it to Logan. Several of the pages had been flagged with bright sticky notes. “Even if we’re successful with a petition to redact, I’m afraid that won’t make much of a difference.” He looked significantly at the document. 

“They’ve filed an amended petition alleging infidelity starting in law school.” Logan’s brow furrowed, mouth opening to protest. Janus held up his hand and continued gently. “Roman is named in the case.”

“But—but, no! That’s—that’s not what happened!” Logan jerked away from the document as though touching it would be an admission of guilt. “I never—we never—” 

“Logan, I’m on your side. I believe you. Regardless, though… even if it were true,” Janus gestured around the office. “I’m your lawyer and your friend and I’d still be on your side.”

Logan put down his tea and wrapped his arms over his belly, staring down at his lap. “I just….” He squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his face up to the ceiling. He blew out a sharp breath. “I thought I was done with her… hurting me.” Logan shook his head. “And now she just wants to hurt Roman, too, and—” His voice broke and he looked away. “I never should’ve mentioned his name,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I thought it would be safe. I thought…” He yanked off his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes. “I thought I’d never see him again. Not… not in real life.”

Janus put down the case files and locked the door. He made a show of closing his laptop and then sat on the little sofa sideways and faced him. “I need to ask you something, Logan. Not as your lawyer. Not as your boss. And not as Roman’s brother-in-law.” Logan looked up at him, eyebrows knit together. “I ask this as your friend.”

He took a long sip of his tea, then looked down into the cup, watching the darker green swirl at the bottom. He raised one eyebrow at him. “Are you concerned about Roman learning through a court case that you have feelings for him?”

“What? No. No, I…” Logan shook his head. “No. They’re just dreams. Were. They—they were dreams, nothing—”

Janus met his eyes, a wordless, ‘Who exactly do you think you’re fooling?’ splashed over his face.

If only the couch could swallow him up whole. 

His shoulders sagged. “Janus, I can’t pull him into any of this,” he whispered. “Even if I thought there was any chance he might… reciprocate…” Logan shook his head again and massaged his fingers. The ache hadn’t let up since Janus had started the tea. “Roman could have… he deserves so much more than all this.” He gestured around them, unsure how much he was referring to himself or to the legal fiasco unfolding around them. “He deserves so much more than anything I can offer him.”

Janus set down his cup. “Perhaps you should let Roman be the judge of that.”

Logan dragged both hands through his hair and shook his head. “Is—is it a closed proceeding tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Janus sighed, but nodded and pulled up the short list of attendees. “The lawyers, you, Ms. Croft, a court reporter, and the Adjudicate.”

He nodded and adjusted his tie. “Let’s get through tomorrow,” he whispered. “And then I’ll think about it.”

~

Fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of the hearing, Janus and Logan sat together at the Defendant’s table in the tiny hearing room. The judge’s bench ate up more than half the space, and, notably, one of the walls was papered over in a faux wood finish, pale and hardly matching the genuine wood paneling on the other side. The hastily assembled dividing wall split the ornate crown molding, leaving the left side of the room plain and dreary.

Still, the chairs were reasonably comfortable and the court staff had managed to fit a decently sized table for each party in a given case. While they waited for the rest of the court to appear, they arranged files on the desk, preparing the various exhibits in the order in which they would need them, their numbers clearly marked for easy retrieval.

The sharp clack of high heels against the linoleum in the hall drew Logan’s attention and his head shot up. It was merely someone passing.

“Eyes on me, remember?” Janus murmured. “Eyes on the judge when the judge is speaking,” he nodded slowly, holding Logan’s gaze. “Otherwise, eyes on me.”

The familiar advice, the advice he himself had given countless clients in DV proceedings, took root in his mind and nodded back. “Thank you,” he whispered, jerking again at a loud footsteps outside but he kept his eyes on Janus’

“It’s not easy, but you’ve got this,” he whispered as the court reporter shuffled in, her heavy transcription machine slung over one shoulder, her lunch bag on the other. Janus stood and bowed his head.

“We haven’t really begun yet, April,” he smiled. “May I give you a hand?”

“The answer’s still no, Pater,” she rolled her eyes behind their thick reading glasses but graced him with a smile. She nodded, still smiling, at Logan in his seat. “I have to admit,” she said, hands automatically assembling her machine without looking. “I saw the name on the docket and wondered.”

April looked around the tiny hearing room and lowered her voice. “Good luck, Mr. Sanders.”

“Thank you, April,” he nodded. For all his worry that the judge hearing his case might find it difficult to separate this from his professional work the next time he tried a case before them, he hadn’t considered the likelihood he might come across others who knew him, as well. If it was to be anyone, though, he was relieved April was the court reporter for this case.

Without looking up from his notes, Janus murmured quietly near his ear. “The Clerk of the Court requested April for this case.” He flashed Logan a tiny smile. “I believe you have more friends than you realize.”

A few minutes later, Kelly's attorney appeared. He waited near the door for several more minutes, finally taking his seat at two to eleven. The thin red second hand on the clock had already passed its nadir when Kelly stomped into the room and dropped into the empty seat next to her attorney. He turned to her, “You made it just in—”

“All rise,” April recited when the little light near the judge’s chambers lit up. Closed hearings were run with the barest of staff and Logan felt a rare brush of relief. He wasn’t certain there were many bailiffs he would want in the room for this.

“Take your seats,” Judge Dain said before she’d even reached the bench. “This is a pretrial hearing in the matter of Croft v. Sanders, to decide the Defendant’s motion to suppress.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus rose and smoothing down his charcoal grey three-piece suit, the quiet clacking of the court reporter’s machine dropping down to a low, ignorable drone. “As you might imagine, dependent on the outcome of this motion, we may have additional motions to present.”

“Expected and understood,” she nodded. There was little point in presenting a motion to redact evidence already suppressed from the case. She looked down at the case file and flipped through the motion before nodding. “Regarding the defendant's motion to suppress Exhibits 13 through 53 inclusive, with all sub-sections therein—” Kelly huffed from her seat, maybe a cough. Maybe a laugh. 

The Judge paused, one eyebrow raised until Kelly’s attorney nudged her and she murmured, “Excuse me, Your Honor. A cold.”

She returned her gaze to the documents in front of her. “The defendant has claimed that under RCW 42.56, these documents were collected, retained, and shared in violation of privileged communications.” The judge lowered her glasses at Janus and nodded.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus stood again and bowed his head. “Thank you. Given a reasonable assumption of medical confidentiality—”

“Objection.” Kelly’s lawyer, someone different from who had filed their divorce petition. He looked vaguely familiar and Logan wasn’t certain, but he believed he, too, attended Kelly’s old church. “Mrs. Michaels was known by the defendant to be a lay leader at my client’s church and there should have been no such assumption of confidentiality.”

“Your Honor, it is more than reasonable to accept the word of one’s wife that she has made arrangements for marriage counseling with a certified—and confidential—counselor.”

“Are you asking the Court to believe a lawyer didn’t think to ask for clarity?”

“I am asking the Court to believe that even lawyers trust their spouses.”

“Your Honor,” Kelly’s attorney interjected and she turned and smirked at him past their respective representation. “Those documents are the heart of my client’s grievance with Mr. Sanders, both for the charges of infidelity—”

“Alleged and unproven,” Janus interrupted.

“Alleged infidelity and our assertion that he is unfit as a parent and role model for a young boy.” Kelly smiled one more time at Logan, then turned to face the judge, eyes wide. “Additionally,” her laugher cleared his throat and looked significantly at the judge. “Refusal to admit these documents into evidence could be perceived as prejudicial against the practices of Ms. Croft’s house of worship.”

The judge pursed her lips, then nodded. “Motion to suppress denied.”

Janus cut off Kelly’s quiet laugher, “Your Honor, motion to strike from the record any and all names, identifying information, descriptions, or any details whatsoever that could be used to trace back to Person A, so named in the plaintiff’s revised petition.” He stood tall, holding a fresh blue-backed document. When the judge signaled him closer, he passed one to Kelly’s attorney and presented the original to the judge.

“Given the salacious nature of the claims and his relative fame, even a spurious”—he cast one cold glance at Kelly’s attorney—”claim such as this could cause Person A a great deal of financial and psychological harm.”

The judge hummed, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the motion. “You’re also alleging the intent of naming Mr. Prince is to encourage a settlement.”

“It would hardly be the first such case to cross this Court, Your Honor,” Janus nodded. “There is precedent in Dunkely v. Roy, Powers v. Powers, Whitman v.—”

“I am well acquainted with my own docket, Mr. Prince, thank you.” She leaned forward. “Any relation?”

Janus straightened his tie. “Yes, as disclosed in our motion to suppress and in this motion, as well. Person A is my brother-in-law.”

The judge stared at him for a long moment, then signaled to the court reporter. “Motion sustained.” The repeated tapping of the court reporter’s redactions accompanied his return to their table.

Logan couldn’t help a tiny relieved sigh and Janus flashed him a smile as he sat down. At least they had that victory and they could keep Roman’s name out of this.

“What?” Kelly hissed, none-too-quietly. Her attorney’s voice rumbled, too low to understand the words. She jerked away from him, chair scraping the floor. “You’re telling me that this—”

“Ms. Croft, please,” he muttered between clenched teeth.

“Counsel, is there a problem?” the Judge asked.

“Your Honor, if I might request a brief recess so I may confer with my client—”

“That’s bullshit!” Kelly said, louder and rising to her feet. She wobbled on her high heels for a moment and Logan’s chest tightened. He scrawled on a bit of paper and passed it to Janus.

She’s drunk.

Janus watched as her attorney spoke close to her ear, tugging her back into her seat.

Are you sure? he wrote back.

Logan nodded.

“No, we don’t need a recess,” she snapped from her seat. “We just need a legal system that isn’t afraid of looking ‘unwoke.’” 

“Your Honor,” her attorney tried again. “Motion for—”

“And we need a judge who isn’t going to kowtow before some fruity little lawyer my ex dug up to try to defend his pathetic ass.”

“Counsel, approach the bench,” the judge ordered, jaw set.

Janus scribbled a question mark on their note, a concerned, ‘Are you okay with this?’ in his eyes.

Logan nodded and wrote back, “Give her all the rope she wants.”

“Your Honor,” Janus bowed his head as he approached. “It appears my esteemed counterpart’s client does not wish for a recess. Defense is ready to proceed.”

Her attorney smiled thinly at him. “You are a credit to your craft, Mr. Prince. Your Honor, not providing my client an opportunity to compose herself, given her current… impaired state could be grounds for an appeal if—”

“Do you mean the client alleging mine is an unfit father reported for court at eleven in the morning inebriated?” Janus turned to the judge. “Your Honor, even I couldn’t make a case for that appeal.”

“I can hear you from here,” Kelly snapped, rising again to her feet. “I told you, Brett,” she leaned over the table, staring daggers at her lawyer. “If his cheating with that twink—”

“Objection, You Honor,” Janus interrupted. “Assumes facts not in evidence and is an ad hominem attack.”

“Sust—”

“He doesn’t have any real parental rights anyway. Patton’s not even his!”

“Objection, Your Honor—” Kelly’s attorney began.

“You can’t object to your client’s own statements in court,” the judge sighed. “Ms. Croft,” she addressed Kelly directly. Kelly flipped her hair back, smiling triumphantly at Logan. “Would you care to repeat that?”

“Patton’s not his child,” she spat, pointing at Logan.

“Counsel?”

Kelly’s attorney shook his head, glancing at Janus. “A brief recess would be beneficial for all, I believe.”

“Your Honor,” Janus turned and Logan nodded, stretching to pass him the pale blue folder on their table. 

The day before, as they’d strategized for the hearing, Janus had frowned when Logan had told him there was one more important incident he had not yet shared. “It is risky keeping information from your attorney until the last moment.”

“I… I know.” Logan had hung his head, but Janus’ gut told him it was more than shame for keeping secrets from him. “I was… optimistic this wouldn’t come up. But if she’s dredging up all this…” He shook his head, glaring at the redwell of dream journals. “There’s something she doesn’t realize I know.” He swallowed hard, lips curled like he’d tasted something sour. “And I think if we push her, she might reveal it herself.”

Janus moved closer and listened.

“I told you I had a genetic screening after Virgil was born.” He looked up and waited for Janus’ little nod. “I carry the gene that caused his birth defect and…” He looked down at his hands. “Likely Kelly does, too. If we’d had more children, they would each have a twenty-five percent chance of his condition. Virgil’s had been mild, reparable.” Logan shook his head. “But seeing his tiny body cut up and hooked into tubes and monitors—” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t bear to go through that fear again, I couldn’t bear to knowingly put a tiny infant through that… or something worse. But Kelly… she wanted more kids.”

Logan finally met his eyes again. “I had a vasectomy six months after Virgil was born and never told her.”

“But, Patton—” Janus pulled out the notes with the children’s birthdates. Patton’s five and a half years younger than Virgil.

“Around when the marriage counseling… failed,” Logan sighed and set down his cup. “Kelly began working with clients all over the world and she’d…” he shrugged. “She would travel for face time with them. All throughout the year but especially the month and half after Christmas and through January, she’d be gone.” Logan hugged himself, scrunching deeper into the couch. “I… I liked the freedom. The…” he sighed and twisted his fingers in his sleeves. “The peace. It was just me and the boys and… we were happy when she was gone. I think she was, too, because when she’d return, she…” He shook his head again and sucked in a deep breath, a new tremor in his jaw.

Janus refilled his tea and pressed the cup into his hands.

He nodded a small thanks and took a sip before continuing. “The winter before Patton was born, though, she came back a different person.”

“Angrier?” Janus asked, reaching out to cover Logan’s hand.

“Kinder,” he whispered, meeting Janus’s eyes. Tears welled behind his glasses and he shrugged again. “Softer…” His face went pink and he dodged Janus’ gaze. “She was affectionate,” he said with emphasis. “Those first few weeks when she came home, it was…” He pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose. After a moment, he cleared his throat, breath still shaky. “It was like when we’d first started dating. Romantic, and… passionate. I thought we’d made a breakthrough, and put the past behind us. I thought she—“

Logan’s voice cracked and this time Janus squeezed his hand, imagining a thousand different ways he could destroy that fucking Karen. 

“I thought she’d started to… love me again,” he finished in a thin whisper.

Janus’ stomach sank as he counted the months in his head, but he remained silent and waited while Logan drank more of his tea.

“Four weeks after she returned, she showed me the pregnancy test.” He tapped his cup, eyes fixed on the swirling green tea. “And everything went back to the way it had been. I… I tried to convince myself it had been real. And that, maybe the procedure had reversed itself. I… I even went to a fertility clinic… Was evaluated.”  He shook his head and drank the rest of his tea. “It hadn’t. It’s not physically possible for me to have impregnated her that time.”

Janus had more questions than he knew what to do with, but Logan’s jaw worked like he had more to say, so he filled the silence with pouring more tea.

“Patton was born ‘early,’” he cocked his head knowingly at Janus. “And he was small relative to his brothers’ size at birth.” Logan shook his head. “But he had no lanugo, there was meconium in the amniotic sac. Fully developed. He wasn’t a preemie.” He massaged his fingers. “Patton was conceived during her trip.”

“That’s a lot for circumstantial evidence,” Janus finally said. “We’ve tried cases like that before and—“

Logan shook his head. “You saw him at the park.” Janus frowned. Surrounded by his tall, dark-haired brothers and father, Patton had stood out. “It’s his hair, his features…” Logan continued. “The only physical trait we share is—“ he tapped his eyeglasses with a wry grin. “But he’s near-sighted and I have an astigmatism, same as Virgil and Remy.”

“If you knew… All this time you knew… Why?” Janus stared at his confounding friend. “Why didn’t you say anything? You had proof of her infidelity. You… you didn’t have to care for another man’s—”

“Patton is my son in every way that matters.” Logan’s voice was fierce. “I fed him in the night and rocked him when he teethed. I picked him up held him when he cried. I taught him to ride a bike and how to read… how to solve an equation. He is my son. Whose sperm fertilized some egg is inconsequential.”

He nodded. “And I’m his father. His speech was delayed, but his first word, his only word for over a year, was ‘Daddy.’ When he was first born, he cried… so much. But he was happy in my arms. When he got older, he signed with me and with his brothers. Kelly… “ He rubbed his right wrist. “Kelly blamed his speech delays on the rudimentary signing and refused, with all of the boys.” Logan finally looked up again. “But he signed with me, his father.”

Janus had nodded and pulled out a fresh, robin egg blue folder. “Then let’s be ready to fight for your sons, no matter what she tries.”

“If I may direct the Court’s attention to Exhibits 1A and B, 2B through 2F,” Janus continued after nodding to Logan from his position before the judge. “Mr. Sanders’ and Ms. Croft’s dated marriage and divorce certificates, as well as the childrens’ birth certificates, signed by both parents and witnessed by attendants at each birth. Additionally, there is the attestment of parentage from the original divorce decree and child support agreement, notarized as signed by each party.”

He paused, and gave the judge a moment to review the documents. He did not smirk when a single drop of sweat ran down the other attorney’s temple. “Ms. Croft is more than welcome to deny the veracity of her earlier sworn statements. I would imagine there to be some sort of consequence for perjury on these documents if she attested to statements she now claims to have been false. I imagine the Office of Child Support Enforcement may require a remuneration of funds fraudulently obtained, as well.”

The judge looked up and met his eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but Janus was sure as fuck she wanted to. “Furthermore, it would appear that Ms. Croft’s new claims of parentage expose her to proven infidelity during the time of the plaintiff’s and defendant’s marriage.”

Janus turned to her attorney. “Given that, does your client have anything beyond my client’s alleged sexual orientation to preclude his ability to parent his children?” He smiled. “Because if that is your only argument, I assure you, Brett, you will have an army of ‘fruity little lawyers’ at your doorstep before you can staple the tops of your bluebacks.”

-

Taglist: @crossiantgay @emoprincey

Happy to add any and all who'd like to be added to this list!

#The Uses of Adversity #ts logan #ts janus #ts roman #mentioned (um‚ a _lot_) #logince #Logan Sanders #Janus Prince neé Pater #Roman Prince #Kelly Croft - OC #other OCs #Janus Sanders #Roman Sanders #for the tags‚ not spoilers #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #the logince happy ending for it could always be worse #dad!logan #Patton and Virgil mentioned #infidelity discussion

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 20: Thinking Out Loud

Prev - Thinking Out Loud - Last - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

People fall in love in mysterious ways Maybe just the touch of a hand Well, me, I fall in love with you every single day And I just wanna tell you I am - Thinking Out Loud, Ed Sheeran

WC: 4243 - Rated: G - CW: none? Gotta be honest, this is pretty fluffy -

“Hey, Dad, can I get in that cabinet?” 

Virgil stood inches from Logan as he slouched over the kitchen counter, checking his phone for messages from Janus. After four and a half months of motions, counter-motions, delays, and continuances, the judge had called a special session in her chambers with only attorneys present. They were both hopeful she planned to dismiss the case, but Logan was afraid to bank too much on hope. 

He walked a line between putting his faith in Janus’ willingness and ability to fight on his behalf, forcing the case from his mind. And obsessively checking his phone for any updates, texted questions, or taunting messages of victory from Kelly.

Virgil chuckled, smirking lightly at his father. “You didn’t fall asleep did you?”

“No. No, of course not.” He adjusted his glasses and smoothed down his tie, quickly turning his wrist to check when his watch buzzed. Nothing important. He drank a bit more of his coffee and cleared his throat. “Simply checking my email.”

“Okay…” Virgil drawled. Logan couldn’t tell if he believed him or not. Virgil pulled out a bowl and took down a box of popcorn. Bopping his head to the music playing out of one earbud, he shed its wrapper and set it in the microwave. While it popped, he rooted through the cabinets and found a box of Cheez-its and filled another bowl with them. “Hey, do we have any more of that trail mix?”

“No, I’m sorry, Virge, we’re out,” he rubbed Virgil’s shoulder then updated the shopping list on the refrigerator. “I can hit Costco tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” The microwave beeped and Virgil shook the bag before dumping it all into another bowl. “Say, Dad, are you gonna have any time off next month other than Christmas Day?” 

Logan grinned, looking up at Virgil and pointing toward the calendar. “I’ve got the entire week after Christmas off, starting on the 25th. Was there something you’d like to do?”

“Do you think you’ll have time to go through the cabinets? I mean, we have a lot of stuff here that I don’t think we need….”

“Oh.” Logan kept his mask on and nodded, throat tightening beyond words. He swallowed hard and smiled. “Sure, Virge, of course,” he finally managed. His eyes darted around the kitchen and he wondered which cabinet he should start on tonight after the boys went to sleep.

“Virge?” Roman asked from the hallway. He huffed out a little laugh, leaning against the banister. “That’s a funny way to say, ‘Dad, I’m glad you’re getting some vacation time.’”

“Oh,” Virgil blinked, looking at Logan. “Oh, yeah, that… “ He stepped a little closer and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, that didn’t come out right. Sorry, Dad.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked again at the calendar. “I am really glad you’re getting some time off.”

“Thank you,” Logan nodded, not entirely certain what to do with the sincerity in his son’s eyes.

Virgil gave a little shrug, “Was there… was there something you were hoping we could do while you’re off and… and Remy and I are home?”

“Something I want to do?” he repeated. He hadn’t really thought about it beyond getting his request in and arranging his cases to have the time free.

“That’s a good question,” Roman’s voice rumbled from the stairwell.

Logan looked between them and smiled. “How would you feel about the light show at the Botanical Garden? It gets dark so early in December and… It’s really lovely at night.”

Nodding, Virgil grinned. “That sounds like fun. And we could see if that hot chocolate cart is there again… Oh! Remember when Pat was finally old enough to hold his own cup?”

“Oh and he…” Logan covered his mouth, laughing, and Virgil turned to Roman.

“Pat asked to wear Dad’s tie,” he mimicked Logan’s habitual straightening of the knot at his neck. “He said he was drinking coffee but you needed to wear a tie to be old enough for coffee.”

“That’s adorable!” Roman chuckled.

“Made us call him ‘Little Daddy.’” Virgil picked up his snacks and shook his head. “And then he dribbled hot chocolate all over the thing.”

“Oh no!”

“I still have the tie, stains and all,” Logan smiled, a little wistful. He’d kept hidden it away in a little box of treasures at work. It was one of the first things he’d brought to new house.

Virgil bumped his father’s shoulder as he passed. “I’ll come down when Jax gets here if you want to call it an early night, Dad. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends with all your cases.” He grinned. “Remy and I can manage two ninth graders.”

Logan nodded, eyes flicking over to meet Roman’s. None of the boys knew about Kelly’s petition, though he’d planned to talk with the older two when they visited for Thanksgiving, to share a bit about what had been keeping him so occupied. But now that they were home, he didn’t know how he’d ever explain.

“Thank you, Virge. I might take you up on that for an hour or two,” he nodded and smiled as Virgil made his way up the stairs. Roman ruffled his hair as he passed then joined Logan in the kitchen.

“Any word from Janus?” he asked quietly, gently bumping his shoulder and staying there. He smiled when Logan bumped back, leaning into him.

“Nothing,” Logan shook his head. Roman was warm against his arm, his eyes bright. “Janus is confident he can get it dismissed.” He’d shared part of the proceedings back in June with Roman, but Logan had left out everything that had involved him. If he wasn’t actually named, he didn’t need to find out… not that way, at least.

Roman leaned back against his shoulder and Logan smiled up at him. The shorter days and the sudden sunset had left the house darker than usual, but even in the dim light, he was beautiful.

Even if Logan knew he couldn’t be completely open about his feelings with Roman, that he couldn’t simply lay all that at his feet and magically expect it not to damage their friendship, at least he’d finally stopped lying to himself.

His feelings for Roman were far more than friendly. 

Since the first hearing, since his final admission to Janus, really, his dreams had only intensified. And over the past few months, Roman had woven himself into Logan’s days, first with the family’s twice-a-week visits to his summer Shakespeare festival and then nightly dinners at least a couple times a week, with or without Janus and Remus. Increasingly, there were weeks when Roman spent more evenings at his house than at his own brother’s.

It left Logan with a plethora of memories for his sleeping mind to warp into a very different kind of life together.

“How was your interview, Mr. Prince?” he asked, grinning when Roman stole a sip of his coffee and warmed his hands on the cup.

Roman chuckled. “A cross between TMZ and The Actor’s Studio.” He took another sip and tilted his head until it rested gently against Logan’s. Roman’s head was warm in the slightly chilly kitchen, heat radiating through his hair and against Logan’s. “Pat’s got a talent.”

“He’s petitioning the school for a ‘radio’ show during homeroom,” he nodded. “He’ll start with interviewing popular students and teachers. Then sneak in current events and if a little advocacy naturally follows…”

“Very nice,” Roman laughed again, gently bumping his head. Apparently not gently enough because he grunted quietly at the impact. “Pat certainly takes after his dad.”

Logan smiled proudly, nodding. “He’s better. He—” His watch buzzed repeatedly and he scrambled to check it. “It’s Janus,” he muttered, eyes wide.

“Go ahead,” Roman nodded. “Do you need privacy?” he asked, starting to pull away.

Without needing to think about it, Logan shook his head and threaded his arm through Roman’s, keeping him close. He tapped to answer the call and pressed the phone to the side of his face. “Hello?”

“Dismissed with prejudice!” Janus cheered over the phone and Logan squeezed Roman’s arm. Something between a laugh and a sob slipped past his lips and he nodded, smiling up at Roman.

“With prejudice? You’re sure?” Throat tight, Logan could barely whisper.

“What does that mean?” Roman asked, eyes wide.

Tears welling, he smiled and explained in a low voice. “The judge dismissed her case. It means she can’t ever pull this again.” 

“Lo, that’s amazing!” Roman’s mouth fell open in a wide smile. Drawing closer, he looped his other arm around his middle and squeezed. Logan leaned into him, the tension of the past few weeks, months, dissolving.

“And I quote,” Janus laughed. “‘Due to the preponderance of evidence provided by the defense, this case is dismissed in its entirety with prejudice. Identifying information for all named parties beyond the plaintiff and defendant’”—Janus dropped to a sotto voice—“That includes Roman and all three of your boys—’are to be stricken from the record and sealed. The court’s record will be expunged on August 15, 2026.’”

“When Patton’s eighteen,” he said, voice cracking. “Janus, this is…” His voice fell away and Janus continued.

“There’s more. ‘Given additional facts in evidence, the parenting agreement is heretofore modified to place all control over the plaintiff’s visitation schedule with her minor child’—name redacted—’at the sole discretion of said minor child and the child’s father, Logan Sanders.’”

Logan went quiet, processing the legalese, a tendril of hope choking out his pessimism. “Does…” How had Janus gotten that in? “Does that really mean….”

“It means Patton can see as little or as much of her as he wants.” Janus’ voice was gentle. “It’s completely up to him and to you, explicitly named as his father. There is zero wiggle room for her. No games, no loopholes.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered and stroked Roman’s arm.

“I haven’t even gotten to the part where the judge ripped her lawyer a new one for even taking this to court in the first place.” He laughed, and Logan couldn’t help a sweet brush of his own schadenfreude. “She issued a court order stating if he or anyone in his firm wasted the Court’s time with this sort of bigoted bullshit—her words—again, she’ll fine them for contempt of court.”

“Janus, this is incredible,” he murmured, hugging Roman’s arm with his head tucked under Roman’s chin. Some distant part of his mind was aware he was at risk of crossing a line, but when he loosened his grip, Roman simply patted his side and moved closer. And the rest of his mind only urged him nearer. “Thank you,” he said. “I couldn’t’ve done this without you.”

“I couldn’t’ve done it without you,” Janus said, his laughter falling away. “We were a team on this. I’m looking forward to our next case together. And now,” he said, cheerful again. “As my final official duty as your representation on this case, Mr. Sanders, I am advising you to go celebrate with your family and then come to my house next weekend so we can all celebrate together.”

“You’re on,” Logan chuckled. “Thank you.”

“I meant what I said before,” he laughed. “You make sure I get those ferrets and we’ll call it even. Byee!”

“Bye, Jan,” he got in just before Janus ended the call. Logan stared down at his phone, shock melting away to relief and he smiled up at Roman. “It’s really over.”

Roman smiled back at him, those luminous green eyes sparkling. He brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen over his glasses and whispered, “I’m so proud of you, Lo. I know how hard this has been for you.” Roman’s hand lingered near his cheek and he turned his face, leaning into the gentle touch just slightly. “You’ve been a warrior.”

He didn’t feel like a warrior. He’d been terrified and hurt and, some days, near-panicked that with one wrong move, his world would crumble underfoot. But then Roman would send a silly text or come by with flowers and a board game and…

“It’s easy to be strong with you by my side,” spilled out. Logan looked up, eyes wide and searching Roman’s to see if he’d assumed too much, said too much, and crossed a boundary. But Roman just smiled, warm fingers brushing his cheek.

In the low light, he positively glowed. His cheeks were flushed, but Logan noticed Roman’s lips were much paler than their usual pink hue. “Are… are you feeling alright?” Brow furrowed, Logan reached for his cheek. “Ro,” he pressed the back of his hand to Roman’s forehead. “You’re burning up!”

“I’m fine,” he shook his head, but blinked lazily. “A little achy, maybe.” He grinned. “Yesterday was arm day.”

“Father of three, remember?” Logan chuckled and ushered him into a seat out in the living room. “I know a fever when I see one. I’ll get the thermometer.”

Roman laughed, but sank into the armchair and let his head fall against the plush backrest. “If you insist, Doctor.”

“That’s better,” he said with a worried smile. 

Logan returned a moment later with both an oral and a forehead thermometer and crouched next to the chair, bringing himself to Roman’s eye level. Roman had sunk into the soft chair, listless, the last of whatever inner stubbornness that had kept him on his feet fading fast. “Calibrating?” he asked weakly, eyeing the devices. 

Shaking his head with a weak chuckle, Logan drew one device across Roman’s forehead to his temple. He frowned at the dial, a red glow spilling out over the back of his hand. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you felt more than a little achy.” He touched Roman’s forehead again, pushing back his curls and peering closely into his eyes.

“Hmm,” Roman hummed. “Your hands are nice and cool.” His lips curled in a slow smile even as he fought weighted eyelids.

“That’s what the two thermometers are for,” he nodded. “I can get you a cloth for your head. It will work best if you lie down, though.” 

Roman nodded, eyes finally closed. “Good idea. Now that you mention it, I… I am… a little tired, actually.”

“We’ll do that, though perhaps not here,” he said. “Jax is coming by soon. It will be chaotic downstairs. I…” Logan looked at the stairs, remembering the night Roman had so easily carried Patton up. He knew he was not capable of that. “Can you walk, if I help you?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, wincing. Logan draped one of Roman’s arms over his shoulders and helped him stand. Moving upright seemed to clear his head, at least a bit, and he kept his eyes open as they walked, even as he leaned heavily against Logan’s side. They stopped twice on the stairs when Roman got dizzy, but eventually made their way to Logan’s room.

“You can rest here,” he murmured, peeling back the corner of the covers before helping Roman sit on the edge of the bed.

A soft smile spread across Roman’s face and he sighed, eyes half-open. “Quiet in here,” he murmured. “Hmm, and smells like you.”

Blushing, Logan looked around the room. “If it’s stuffy, I can—I can open a window—”

“No… it’s nice,” he said. “I like it… You smell good.” Frowning, Roman started to lay back, then pushed himself up. “Help?” he asked, holding out his hands.

“Of course,” Logan rushed forward and took his hands to help him to his feet. Once upright, he fumbled with his belt buckle. 

“Jeans are too…”

“Oh.” Keeping his eye trained up, Logan helped him pull off his heavy denim jeans before quickly moving him back to the bed and covering him with the blanket. “Is… is that better?”

“Much more comfortable,” he mumbled.

“I’ll hang these and get a cloth for your forehead.” Logan tucked the blankets high over his chest. “We should get your temperature down a bit. It will help your headache.”

Roman smiled weakly, watching him through half-lidded eyes. “Okay.”

He lingered for several seconds, waiting to see if Roman really would be alright for a moment alone, then hurried off to the closet, then the ensuite to wet a cloth with cool water. He filled a Dixie cup, as well. The small sips of coffee Roman had had were not what he needed and if he could drink just a bit, he’d feel better for it. Logan’s reading chair was nearby and he nudged it closer until it was flush against the side of the bed.

“I’m going to put a cloth on your forehead now,” he murmured, fearful of shocking him with the sudden cold. Roman didn’t open his eyes, but smiled at the touch as he slowly set the folded cloth against his skin.

“Mm… ‘ank you…” he mumbled.

Logan brushed his hair from his face, then pulled away. Before he got far, though, Roman reached for him, one warm—Logan now realized, feverishly warm—hand wrapping around his. Roman brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “Lo…” he breathed, then grew quiet.

Certain he’d fallen asleep, Logan tugged gently, but Roman tightened his grasp. “Stay,” he whispered and pressed Logan’s hand to his cheek. “Please?”

“I’m right here, Ro,” he murmured, and dragged the chair closer with his other hand. “I’ll stay right here with you.”

~

“Here, Ro… Drink just a little more before you fall asleep again…”

“Mm-hm,” Roman nodded, humming again when the cool, sweet liquid hit his tongue. “‘S good,” he mumbled and curled back into the soft warmth around him. 

He was lying with Lo outside, bright sunshine on his face, head pillowed on Lo’s chest. Lo was warm and soft and his touch so gentle, so… so loving. Roman thought his heart would burst.

With Lo’s arms wrapped around him, the delicious scent of vanilla and cinnamon and musk in every breath, Roman was ensconced in him. It was peaceful and calm, singing birds and the boys’ happy voices in the distance.

It was perfect.

“One more sip, Ro, okay?” Lo urged.

“Anything for you…” With Logan in his arms, Roman didn’t need to say it, didn’t need to find his own words or borrow them from Shakespeare. He held Logan close and let the embrace speak for him.

I love you, Lo….

~

When Roman next opened his eyes, the room was dark and fuzzy. Something beeped and quickly faded, followed by a green glow and a little relieved sigh. “Re?” His throat was dry, his voice cracked and barely above a whisper.

“No, Ro, I’m sorry…” The gentle voice from his dream, firm hand at the back of his neck, cool liquid on his lips. He swallowed and leaned forward for more. Worried blue eyes swam into his vision. “It’s me, Logan.”

“Lo,” he smiled and let his eyes close again. “Hmm… I dreamt of you…”

“Really?” 

The surprise in his voice was sweet and he held him tighter. “All th’ time, Lo.” 

Roman blinked, eyes slowly focusing on the dark blue cotton pressed against his cheek. Oh. He wasn’t holding Logan. He was holding a pillow.

“Hmm… Where…” He pushed up and looked around. He was in bed, well, a bed. A small bowl, a mug, and a bottle of Gatorade sat on the nightstand near his head. The walls were a soft matte blue, and, with the exception of his jeans hanging from a hook on the back of the door and the small collection of dishes and thermometers on the nightstand, the room was sparse and tidy.

A thick book open and face down on his lap and a worried smile gracing his lips, Logan sat in a chair next to him. “Am I in your bedroom?”

Logan nodded. “I… I hope you do not mind. You were… a little out of it from the fever last night.” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. “I… I managed to walk you up here and… and you fell asleep. I, um…” He blushed, a soft pink that matched his lips. “You… you wanted your jeans off. I… ah… hope that’s alright.”

“It’s okay, Lo…” He reached out and patted blindly, hand brushing over Logan’s knee. “Thank you for helping me. Boxers probably cover more than the ones I wear on my runs, anyway.”

“Indeed,” he said with a little laugh, cheeks brightening.

“Oh!” Roman chuckled and his own face grew warm as his brain kicked into a higher gear and he remembered which pair Logan might have caught a glimpse of. “I’m wearing the ones with little smiling hearts all over them, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Logan nodded.

“You know, I usually…” He scrabbled for dignity then shook his head. He was half naked in his… Logan’s bed where he’d been hugging his pillow like it was him. He had no dignity left. Surprisingly, he was okay with that. “Who am I kidding? I’m a sucker for novelty boxers.” He huffed out a little laugh. “The cornier the better.”

“I thought they were sweet.” Logan poured more Gatorade in a cup and helped him drink. “Besides, I have been known to favor a set with a TARDIS print,” he smiled, taking the glass when he was done.

The Gatorade helped. Roman laughed, eyes dancing with mischief. “So would you say then, it’s… bigger on the inside?”

Logan’s eyes flew wide open, one hand jerking up to cover his mouth. But before Roman could apologize for the off-color remark, Logan had doubled over in laughter. Every few breaths, he would sit up, gasping for air, only to collapse in the most adorable giggles again.

There was a knock at the door and Remy poked his head in, concern quickly turning to his own grin. “Oh, you’re laughing.” He looked over his shoulder, “Emile, they’re okay.”

“Yes, we’re fine,” Roman nodded, struggling to speak past his own laughter. 

Logan beckoned him in. “Sorry to worry you,” he managed before another giggle burst out that he tried to wave away. “We’re absolutely fine.”

“I see that,” Remy chuckled. “Glad you’re feeling a little better, Ro.”

“Thanks to your dad’s care,” he nodded, reaching to brush his fingers over Logan’s where they rested on the edge of the bed. 

“He’s good at that. Do either of you need anything?”

Blushing, Logan glanced at Roman, who shook his head. “No, but thank you, Rem.” 

“If you change your mind, we’re here.” He waved as he closed the door. “Goodnight, you two.”

“I thought he was going to warn us to keep both feet on the floor,” he started to laugh but then the rest of what Remy said sank in. “Wait—How long—”

Logan smiled, sort of. It was almost a wince. “You’ve been mostly asleep for a good twenty hours or so.”

“Oh,” he said.

“You got up twice, ah,” he shrugged and looked toward an attached bathroom. “But you were barely awake. Your fever finally broke about two hours ago.” 

Roman lay back against the pillows and nodded. “Wow, I… I haven’t been knocked on my ass with a fever in a… long time.”

“Are you hungry?” Logan scooted forward in his chair and looked ready to fetch him anything he asked.

“Hmm…” Roman shook his head. His eyelids suddenly felt very heavy. “Maybe later. I’m okay just like this.” With Logan an arm’s reach away and nestled in his bed, the gentle spicy vanilla scent of his hair surrounding him, he was more than okay.

“Some nurse I am,” Logan chuckled, checking his temperature. “I’ve worn you out.” He smiled and refreshed the cloth in the little bowl before laying it over his forehead.

The cloth was cool against skin, and Logan’s gentle brushes through his hair were even better. It soothed the lingering throbbing under his skull and he let it lull him back into a comfortable haze. “That feels really good,” he murmured and tried to stifle a yawn. “I… I am getting tired. But… good tired.” Logan’s bed was soft and cozy and just the thought of moving was draining. 

He looked up at Logan’s eyes, those sharp blue eyes watching him for any sign of distress or pain while adjusting the cloth perfectly over his head. “Would it be alright if… if I… I stayed?”

“No,” Logan grinned, eyes dancing. “I’m going to make you walk home.” He chuckled as he smoothed the covers and fluffed up his pillows. “Of course you’re staying here tonight. I’ve been checking in with Remus. He knows you’re safe. I’ll call him again about tonight,” he murmured, pulling away.

Roman caught his hand before he got too far away and brought it close to his mouth, brushing his knuckles back and forth over his lips as he pushed his sluggish brain to cooperate.

“Thank you, Lo. For looking out for me again.” He grinned, suddenly giddy, and pressed Logan’s hand to his heart. “For taking care of me.”

“No, Ro,” Logan shook his head, smiling. “No, we…” Soft, cool fingers stroked his hand. Something flashed in Logan’s eyes and his smile brightened, his entire face blooming like a wildflower in the sun. “We take care of each other.”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded. It was becoming difficult to keep his eyes open. “We do.”

“Rest now, Roman,” Logan whispered, brushing back his hair as his eyes fluttered and the room went dark. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

-

Taglist @crossiantgay @emoprincey

Ask to be added :-)

#The Uses of Adversity #ts logan #ts roman #logince #yeah‚ the slow burn is sparking #ts virgil #ts remy #ts patton #mentioned #Logan Sanders #Remy Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Roman Prince #Patton Croft #ts janus #Janus Prince neé Pater #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #for the tags #we're nearly to the end of this tale #the logince happy ending for it could always be worse #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic

[edupunkn00b]

It Could Always Be Worse Masterpost

Logan Sanders thought he had secured a fairy tale ending when he married Kelly Croft, mother to his first child.

But real life is just not a fairy tale.

Happily Ever After is a very different story when Janus meets Remus at Jack's party in Objections.

Chapter for chapter, a butterfly version of Happily Ever After.

WC: 9041 - Rated T - Angst, Depression, Dissociation, Closeted from parents, Suicidal Ideation, Divorce, Hospitals, Past Domestic Violence - [ AO3 ]

The ending is… hopeful, and has a true happy ending planned in the follow up, The Uses of Adversity.

It Could Always Be Worse Chapter List

Once Upon a Time

It Was a Bright Cold Day in April

A Queer, Sultry Summer

The Sun Did Not Shine

Happy Families

A Pleasure to Burn

All This Happened

The Past is a Foreign County

Ships at a Distance

Next in the series: The Uses of Adversity

#It Could Always Be Worse #ts logan #logan sanders #Logan Croft #ts virgil #ts patton #ts remy #Virgil Croft #Patton Croft #Remy Croft #dad!logan #kid!patton #kid!remy #kid!virgil #ts janus #Janus Prince neé Pater #well‚ that part remained the same #ts remus #mentioned #Remus Prince #ts roman #Roman Prince #referenced but not named #background demus #background dukeceit #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic

[edupunkn00b]

Arizona's Journal, Chapter 6: Sign Here, Please

Prev - Sign Here, Please - Last - All - [ AO3 ]

January 30, 2018

“And sign right there, Mr. Prince.” The intake nurse pointed to yet another little rectangle on the Kid’s admission form. His hand shook, starting his name with a jagged scrawl instead of its customary curlicues R.

He snuck a little glance at me, shame filling his eyes. “Keep me away from the ink needles,” he laughed, his joke falling flat. He nodded when the nurse flipped the page and pointed to another place for him to sign. “I didn’t have to sign anything last time.”

The nurse ignored his jokes. “Yes, Mr. Prince,” she nodded and flipped to the final page. “Your last visit with us was invol—“

“I’d let you ink me up anytime, Kid,” I interrupted. The Kid had already emptied his pockets, his phone, wallet, clove cigarettes—“I thought you quit these!”—all tucked safely in my backpack. They let him keep his sketchbook—heavyweight paper and glue top only—and his pastels.

When he’d been feeling a little better, in the middle of his first hospitalization, the Kid had flashed that grin and managed to convince the charge nurse to help him argue that, if crayons were permitted, then pastels should be, too. “They’re basically crayons for grown-ups, after all.” It helped that Dutch used the same word for each. And it helped when the first thing the Kid did with his new pastels was draw a portrait of each nurse and doctor in the place.

The policy change had stuck.

Since then, he’d started a predictable pattern. He’d get out, feeling good. Optimistic. We’d talk for hours about his designs, about his latest boyfriend. He’d start feeling so good he’d plan a trip out to Seattle and he and his brother would tear up the town. Once he’d even drug Roman and Janus out to the shop, pulling out all the stops to convince his brother to get a tattoo with him. The moment he and Janus had stepped into the shop, Janus froze and stared.

“Hi.” His legendary gift of gab had dissolved. I hadn’t known Remus planned to bring them by, but, really, when does the Kid plan much when he’s reveling with his brother? Even if I had, though, I would’ve guessed Janus had been too blind drunk to remember me from his Pride day street brawl with Chad and the other schmucks from Andrey's.

I’d been mistaken.

“Do you two know each other?” Roman grinned a little too broadly. He’d been in the shop before, but hadn’t come by in years. Not since the Kid left for Copenhagen. 

“Yeah, Ro Bro!” If the Kid had noticed Janus’ hesitation, he didn’t let on. “Who do you think did Jannie’s flag?” he asked, pointing to the tiny picture on the wall. It was faded now, a victim of nearly twenty years of Seattle’s excuse for sunlight.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Ro’s smile softened and Janus shot me a quick look. I just nodded. you didn’t tell me this is where you got it!”

He shrugged and put on this suave air. “I hadn’t realized.”

In the end, the Kid hadn’t been able to convince his brother to get inked, but he did convince Janus to let me take a fresh picture of his. It was nice evidence of how well the lines had stood up over time.

“Thank you,” he’d murmured, letting Remus’ laughter and Roman’s exaggerated offense at some remark of his cover his words. “I… I wasn’t myself that day.”

“I get it. You think you’re the first person who’s looked for the cure to heartache at the bottom of a glass?”

He shook his head and pulled out a bright red sobriety chip. Five months. “No. It wasn’t even the first time for me.”

I could feel the Kid’s eyes on us but I didn’t look away from Janus. “I’m proud of you.” I closed my hand over his and nodded. For a split second, I thought he was offended, then his eyes got all misty and he put the chip away. He looked over to the brothers where they had their faces pressed to the glass, playing the license plate game with the foulest  words they could come up with. The Kid was winning, but Roman was no slouch. 

“They look so young together,” he whispered.

“They do.”

“Re’s so good for him,” he said, hiding a laugh at a particularly creative use of the letter ‘L.’

I patted his arm and tugged down his sleeve. “I was about to say the same thing about Roman.” 

In the end, Remus got back on a plane, went back to Denmark, back to this wonderful life he’d built around the Roman-shaped hole he carried in his heart. Then, a few months later, the emptiness would get to him and we’d be back, filling out forms, collecting bootlaces and belts and pencil sharpeners.

It was approaching that time, and the Kid was moving slower. He’d walked in today. No EMT gurney, no wheelchair this time around. Just broken and still fighting. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets like he was looking for something and shuffled his feet. The first week was hard. No visitors, nothing but his meds. He’d made it before, though. He do it again.

A tuft of green fell over his forehead and I pushed it back like he really was a kid. LIke a kid, he smirked and dragged his curls back down into his eyes. I’d helped him dye his hair the day before, right after my flight landed. Neither of us knew how long this stint would be, but he wanted to start it looking like himself.

“I’ll be okay, Arizona” he whispered when I hugged him a little too tight. “And I’ll come see you.” His laugh came out like a sob and I hid my face so he wouldn’t see I was close to crying, too.

I nodded. “Yeah, I know. You got this.” He’d called me this time. Told me what he was thinking about. Told me what he needed. “You got this.”

“And Dino’s coming by next week, too.” He squeezed me back just as hard. “I won’t be alone.”

Instead of running, like the Kid’s depression was contagious, Dino had stepped up from boss to friend. Dino was the only reason I didn’t push harder for the Kid to come home. “Yeah.” I still pushed a little. “Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to Ro?” I asked again. He managed to hide most of the little flicker of annoyance at the question. “He’d jump on a plane the minute he—” 

“When I’m better,” he said. It’s what he always said. “I don’t want him to see me like… like this.” He shook his wrist with the little lo-jack hospital band. 

“Like you’re getting help?”

“Like I need help.”

“Oh, Kid.” It sucked trying to have a real conversation with him in front of half a dozen nurses and staff, but they were waiting for him and we all knew this was the moment he was most likely to turn around and skip out. They had his chart. “Do you ever wonder if he’s going through stuff, too? Shit he’s keeping from you because he doesn’t want you to know he’s struggling?”

He was quiet for a while, and he traced the edges of his ginkgo tattoo. Finally, he nodded. “When I get out,” he promised. “This time, I’ll call him.”

#Arizona's Journal #Arizona Tate - OC #ts remus #Remus Prince #ts roman #Roman Prince #ts janus #Janus Prince neé Pater #cw hospitalization #cw aa #cw alcoholism mention

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 7: Remy & Emile

Prev - Remy & Emile - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated: T - CW: swearing, feared parental homophobia (there's none) - WC: 1535

Remy finished his coffee, and sat back against the hard wooden chair. He gnawed at his lip, staring down at the swirled band of onyx and pink quartz wrapped around his left ring finger. He set down his cup and held out his hand, watching the morning sun glint off the polished engagement ring. His brow slowly softened and a smile spread across his face.

“So… are we telling your dad today?”

Remy smiled and stood, wrapping Emile in his arms and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He inhaled the bright chocolate scent of his fiancee’s body butter and chuckled. “While I appreciate you omitting the word ‘finally’ in that sentence, I take your point.”

Emile pulled back, laughing. “I just think it would probably be a good idea to come out to your dad before the wedding, y’know?”

“I know, I know, I know,” Remy said, pulling Emile close again. After dating for over two years, he saw the sting of being introduced as his “friend” or “suite mate” Emile tried to hide every time he visited his dad’s house. Remy secretly believed it had been one of the driving reasons behind Emile's ready agreement to move in together after such a short courtship. Living together proved that, in Remy’s heart, Emile was so much more than just a suite mate.

“I’m just… I don’t know what he’s gonna say.” Emile pulled back enough to raise an eyebrow at him and Remy sagged. “I know but… it’s one thing to publicly be all into equality and civil rights, but it’s another when it’s your kid , you know? What if he freaks out? Not everyone is as cool as your parents.” He couldn’t meet Emile’s eyes. Remy had been playing out nightmare scenarios of how this conversation might go with his father for close to a decade. While he was pretty sure his dad wasn’t a secret homophobe… he just… he didn’t really say much about anything he thought and Remy just wasn’t sure. “You’ve heard the shit my mom used to say.”

“That's true. My parents are awesome," Emile laughed when Remy blew a raspberry against his neck. "But there’s a reason your dad left your mom, isn’t there?”

“There’s a lot of reasons my dad left that bitch.” Remy set his head back on Emile’s shoulder as his fiancee rocked him and hummed their song, soothing his good mood back through his skin and the soft melody.

“What about a friend?” Remy raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “I mean, would you be able to maybe feel out your dad’s reaction by talking to one of his friends? It’s how I came out to my parents. I talked to my uncle first and he was with me when I told them. Your dad’s an only child, but…”

“Yeah. My dad doesn’t have friends.”

"None?" Emile cupped Remy’s cheek and met his eyes, eyebrows raised in incredulity. Remy shook his head. Emile made a small choked sound. "I can't imagine how…"

Remy pulled him against his chest, hearing the tremor in his voice. Emile's voice was muffled against his shoulder. "If I hadn't had you in my corner… I don't want to think about where I'd be right now."

Nodding, Remy just hummed in response as the memory of finding Emile in the cold January rain outside their dorm flooded his mind. His classmate had been barefoot, dressed only in a t-shirt and pajama pants, locked out of his dorm when his then-fiancee Max thought he needed to learn a lesson.

He closed his eyes, shaking away the thought of what might've happened to Emile that night if Remy hadn't come across him when he had. He felt Emile stiffen in his arms and suspected his love's thoughts were going down the same path. 

Remy rubbed his back for a moment, then murmured in his ear, an exaggeratedly gossipy tone in his voice. "You know, sometimes I wonder if my dad was really a secret agent serial killer and only started a family as a front to hide his nefarious intentions.”

“You watched Black Widow again last night, didn’t you?”

Remy laughed lightly, thrilled that he was playing along. He kissed Emile’s neck, chuckling against his warm, soft skin. “Maaaaaaybe…” He drawled before pulling his new fiancee for a proper kiss.

After only a few minutes, though, Remy's phone rang. He whined when Emile pulled away, laughing. "You answer your phone, and I'll make us some tea," he swiped away Remy's coffee cup. "I can tell by the pot you're already on cup number two.

Pouting, Remy gave Emile puppy dog eyes as he answered his phone. "Jacinta! Save me! My Husband-to-be has cut me off of coffee and it's only 8:30 in the morning. How will I ever survive?"

Emile laughed louder, "He's wants a third cup!" he called out so their former suite mate could hear. He watched as Remy reacted to Jacinta's response.

"Oh, the betrayal!" Finally, he laughed, grinning and giving Emile a side hug when he mimed making Remy a mocha as a compromise. "I'm putting you on speaker." He set the phone down on the counter between them as Jacinta's laughter poured over the speaker.

"Stay strong, Emile! Don't give in to the pout!"

"Too late," Remy crowed, hugging Emile from behind as he spooned in scoop of espresso beans into the machine.

"I tried, but he wore me down," Emile confirmed as he leaned his head back against Remy's chest.

Jacinta laughed harder. "Someday you'll learn to start your day without a gallon of caffeine racing through your veins. You did it that one week back in high school. You can do it again!"

"Worst. Week. Ever." Remy deadpanned before squeezing Emile tighter with a grin. "So, Jacinta, are you still up for brunch?" 

"I am, but I'll need a ride. My sister borrowed my car. And I'm stuck without wheels." There was a hesitance to her voice that had both men exchanging confused looked until Emile's face exploded on understanding.

"Oh shit, weren't you going shopping for your dissertation defense today?"

"Yeah… I was actually calling to see if I could borrow your car after brunch?" Her voice lilted up at the end. 

"Oh," Remy tapped his fingers against his mouth, thinking. "We're going to my dad's afterwards…" His face suddenly brightened. "Wait, maybe you could drop us off?" He looked at Emile, eyebrows raised.

"That works!" Emile agreed, nodding rapidly. "As long as you don't mind picking us up again?"

"Are you kidding? I'll even top off tank!" A relieved laugh flittered over the phone. "You two are a lifesaver!"

"Hey, you saved my ass plenty of times over the years," Remy laughed. "Besides, you gotta slay for your dissertation. Oh, fuck—” Remy stared at the clock on the microwave. "Is that really the time? I still need to shower." Emile kissed his cheek and pressed his half-drunk mocha into his hands. "We'll pick you up in an hour, Jacinta!"

~~~

Roman stopped halfway down the block and frowned down at his phone, triple checking the house number Logan had sent him. Odd numbers on the left, even numbers on the right. He went back and retraced his steps. 7000 was the house with the big beige doors. 7002 had the statuette of the sneering cat riding a horse. But the next house was 7006. Where the fuck was 7004? A car pulled in and parked across the street and a door opened, music blasting from the speakers.

Sorry, not sorry ’bout what I said I'm just trying to have some fun Don't worry, don't worry Don't lose your head

“Turn it down! It's the fucking suburbs,” laughed a tall young man with black hair streaked with hot pink as he stepped out from the back seat, just before the engine cut and the music abruptly ended. He walked around the back of the car and opened the other passenger door, offering his hand to a man with hair in the same shocking pink as the first. When he turned, Roman saw he sported a streak of black.

Shaking his head at the utter adorableness of the couple’s coordination, he looked again at his phone. Swallowing his pride, cheeks already warming in embarrassment that, despite three apps and five text messages, he still couldn’t figure out how to find Logan’s house, he glanced up as the pair’s ride drove off, a bright white 7004 stenciled on the curb. On the wrong side of the street. Roman chuckled. Logan wasn’t kidding that Kirkland streets were weird.

Roman’s next surprise, though, came when the pair walked up the steps to 7004 and, after knocking twice on the deep blue door, let themselves in. He darted across the street, barely remembering to look for cars, then walked up to the door. He rang the doorbell and looked down at the doormat, announcing in block letters, ‘Welcome! It’s bigger on the inside!’ and grinned just as Logan opened the door.

He gestured toward the doormat and raised the bag of pastries he’d picked up on his way, grin broadening. “Permission to board your TARDIS, Doctor?”

(It's been so long, I fear my taglist is stale. Please ask to be tagged :D )

#The Uses of Adversity #Life Out of Order series #A Happily Ever After Butterfly story #what happened when Janus met Remus at Jack's party #ts logan #ts roman #ts janus #ts remus #ts emile #ts remy #Logan Sanders #Roman Prince #Remus Prince #Janus Prince neé Pater #Remy Sanders #Emile Patshke #remile #dukeceit #established dukeceit #logince #future logince #slow slow slow burn #demus #established demus #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction

[edupunkn00b]

Arizona's Journal, Ch. 3: A Cry for Help from Copenhagen

Prev - A Cry for Help from Copenhagen - Next - All - [ AO3 ]

The Kid didn't call me last night.

Instead, I heard him from the other side of the world as he clambered on top of the pile of sadness and loneliness he'd been wading in and cried out with the last of his strength.

I almost didn't hear him in time.

It started with the game. Not Limbo, no. Limbo, despite its macabre tone and graphics, was woven through with the fairy tale of a brother fighting to save his sibling from the brink. You battle the darkness and face unseen dangers, work through each problem, solve every puzzle. You win by always getting back up again after every fall, every challenge, every loss. You never give up, never cave. As dark as the imagery in that game, at its core, it depicted a deeply optimistic universe, painted with its creator's hope.

Remus had created that game as a thank you, an "I see you, brother," and as an "I love you," to Roman. I don't think his brother will ever understand the depth of the guilt Remus carried with him for leaving, for escaping, for running from the pain he was suffering in Seattle.

He told himself, and he told Roman, he told all of us that he was running to something. That he was running to opportunity, to freedom. To find a place where he could be himself and where no-one would ever know him as the more caustic, more abrasive, more promiscuous, Prince twin.

The Kid and I both knew the truth.

The problem with running away, with trying to run from your pain, is that you just take it with you.

But he was doing alright. The Kid had dark spells, sure. But he'd reach out, he'd call, and we'd talk. And though he was half a world away, it sounded like he was slowly healing. He had friends, success, an astounding creative outlet. He'd built a life.

And then Remus' next game was released.

Pete told me he played through Inside multiple times. After hours and hours of playing—and more than a little research on various chatboards— he'd solved not only the "standard" ending, but also the alternative ending. When he finished, he called me. "Auntie, when's the last time talked to Remus?"

I shook my head, thinking it through. "Um… probably a month or so. He's been doing a little better. I haven't had a late night call from him for a long while."

"Auntie… this game… this is a… I think you should call him."

"Pete, it can't be that bad… he works with a whole team… if there were red flags in the game, someone would've noticed. I mean…" My excuses sound hollow even to my own ears. "Okay, tell me about the game…"

As I listened to the phone click over to voicemail for the third time that night, I checked my math again, checking what time it was in Copenhagen. We were in the middle of Daylight Savings Time, so add nine hours… It should be 11 AM in Copenhagen. The Kid should be awake by now. But he wasn't answering phone calls or text messages.

I scrolled through my contacts, shaking my head. Shit, the Kid's gonna be pissed but I'd rather him not talking to me because he's angry and alive than not talking to me because he's dead.

He picked up on the third ring, a cacophony of voices poured over the line. "Hey, Dino, listen, when's the last time you saw Remus?"

"Arizona! It's wonderful to hear from you! Um, Remus?" There was a fumbling sound as he covered the mouthpiece and spoke to someone on the other end. When he returned to the call, the background racket had lessened. "It's been… maybe two weeks? He's on an extended vacation. You know, recharging. He pushed hard, harder than anybody, to get the game over the finish line. He even helped QA. I swear he slept under his desk some nights."

"And he hasn't checked in or…" I shook my head but the cold rock in the pit of my stomach grew.

Dino laughed, "He's on vacation. I told him we had everything under control here. It's all in marketing's hands right now, but sales are through the roof!”

I let silence fill the line. All I could see was that scared, gangly kid standing outside the Bartell's. The almost relief when I asked him inside the shop.

“I’m getting on a plane.”

#Arizona's Journal #Remus Prince #Arizona Tate #OC #Dino Patti #sorta OC #Roman Prince #mentioned #Janus Prince neé Pater #not mentioned by name #Happily Ever After Universe

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 11: Second Chances

Prev - Second Chances - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

"If it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone." - Second Chances, Gregory Alan Isakov

WC: 3152 - Rated: T - CW: divorce, arguing, returning OC, swearing, suggestive (hello, Remus), misuse of a Latin phrase ---

“You’re up early.” Yawning, Janus tightened his robe when he stepped into the kitchen and nearly collided with Roman in front of the refrigerator. Smiling, he took the eggs from his hand and nudged him over to the coffee maker instead.

“I’m helping out a friend today,” Roman said, vaguely, and pulled down the coffee beans and grinder. Janus raised an eyebrow, waiting silently until he elaborated. Roman delayed as long as he could, taking his time grinding the beans and scooping them into the filter. Lawyers didn’t like vagueness and they knew exactly how to fix that. Janus remained quiet and let Roman’s building need to fill the silence hunker down between them.

Not that Logan ever pulled this little trick with him. Not that there was anything Roman didn’t want to tell him. His problem was in wanting to tell him… everything. “Well… he’s your friend, too,” Roman finally admitted, dragging a hand through his hair. “Logan.”

“Queerbait Croft?”

“Oi!” Roman snapped, glaring at his brother-in-law. “Jannie,” Remus purred from the doorway at the same time. “Now, now,” he said, drawing closer and nuzzling against his temple with a little frown. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I'm simply… “ Janus huffed and hung his head for a few breaths, his face a cross between annoyed and chagrined. Finally, he looked up and nodded. “You’re both right. I was out of line. I apologize. I simply meant…" He frowned, eyes faraway for a moment before he met Roman's eyes. "Don't put your heart on the line with him, Roman. He’s straight.” 

Remus snorted. “Sure, Jan,” he shook his head and impatiently tapped the brewing coffee. “Nobody’s that good of an ally. Maybe ‘Straightbait Sanders’ is a better name for him.”

“Muse, of course he’s straight!” Janus rolled his eyes and continued slicing a bell pepper. “What, you think his children were delivered by the stork?”

“What, you think a bi guy can’t fuck his wife and still appreciate his hot boss’ ass?”

“Muse, my dear…” Blushing, Janus kissed Remus’ cheek. “You’re projecting.”

“Well, yes, I know I love to stare at your ass, too.” He grinned and made a squeezing motion with both hands, making clear his intention to do more than stare. “But his wife—”

“Ex,” Roman interrupted.

Remus tipped an imaginary hat at his brother before returning his attention to Janus. “His ex-wife sure seemed to think there was something going on between you two. Or did you think it was a coincidence she’d interrupt every fucking time you two talked at Q-Law parties?”

“Really?” Roman asked and Remus nodded.

“Really, really.” Coffee brewed, he poured large cups for each of them and moved to the sink to refill the empty carafe with water. 

“Rinse it, at least, Muse,” Janus said without looking up.

Laughing, Remus made a show of splashing the pot with an inch of water before taking the task seriously. “You seem to be awfully invested in this, Ro Bro.” He filled the pot before turning around, eyebrows dancing. There was mischief in his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to be catching some not-straight feelings for our sweet Nerdy Wolverine, would you?”

Eyes wide, Roman stared at Remus, shouting silently, You know very well I have feelings for him! Remus merely held his gaze before looking pointedly at Janus.

Roman opened his mouth to protest, but sat back instead, and sipped his coffee. He could feel Janus and Remus exchanging a look. “I… might be,” he muttered. He knew his brother and his brother knew Janus. Roman would play along with the madness to his method.

The taste of the coffee brought him back to last Saturday, the glimmer in Logan's eyes, that shy little smile that finally broke through his mask. “Logan’s not like anyone I’ve known before," he said quietly, addressing his cup. "And it's not just the way he handled that dickhead Devin. He’s smart but…not a jackass about it.” Roman ignored Janus’ quiet huff. “He laughs at my stupid jokes. And you should see him with his kids. The other day he—” Roman glanced up, bracing himself for a comment about his effusiveness, but he saw nothing but compassion. From both of them. “He’s a good guy. I’ve always thought so.”

Remus stared back at him, head tilted in confusion, but then his jaw fell open. “Oh fuck, Ro…” Tone changed, Remus flipped a chair around and straddled it, facing his brother. “Logan’s the guy.” Roman stopped breathing and just stared back at him. “The guy." When he didn't acknowledge his assertion, Remus continued as though there was some way Roman had forgotten his embarassing dual crushes. "The cute guy you had that crush on back in school. The one you said was out of reach. I always thought…” Remus’ eyes flicked over to the back of Janus’ head before he let the sentence finish itself.

Roman shrugged and looked away.   

“I still think you should go for it,” Remus said after a moment, getting up and punching Roman’s shoulder as he returned to the stove. “Carpe dickem. Seize the day. Shoot your shot.”

“I can’t fuck up everything between us on a whim, Re, he’s…”

“Twitchy?” Remus asked.

“Special,” Roman snapped and his brother turned around. 

“Fuck, Ro, I’m sorry,” he said, passing the spatula to Janus and crouching next to his brother’s chair. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Remus stared up at him, head tilted. “This isn’t just… a crush… is it?”

Roman was quiet for a long time, and listened to the spatula scraping the pan. Finally, he met his brother’s eyes. “No,’ he breathed. “No, it’s not.”

“Just…” Janus had been listening as he cooked and Roman’s head jerked up at his low voice. He fell quiet again and plated an omelette before placing it in front of Roman. “Just don’t get your hopes up too much, okay? I don’t want you to lay it all out there and… have him break your heart.” Roman stabbed his eggs with a fork and steam escaped from the tiny holes. “I’ve known this guy for… fuck, twenty years and…” He rolled his eyes fondly at Remus. “And despite your brother's obvious projections, I’ve never seen him show any sort of actual interest in men.”

“Known him for twenty years and yet you still call him by his ex wife's last name?” Roman glared at him, one eyebrow raised before shrugging. “Maybe you don’t actually know him as well as you think you do.”

Janus frowned but nodded. "Perhaps I don't."

~~~

“Hey, Dad?” Virgil’s words came out in a grunt as he slung a giant purple duffel bag over his shoulder, “Next year, do y’think I can stay up in Bellingham for spring break?”

Logan’s feet stuttered and the gig box he carried bumped against his thighs. “What? Well I… I suppose if you would prefer…”

“I’m just thinking it’s less stress, y’know?” Virgil shrugged and looked out at the driveway. Logan’s SUV stood alone, hatch open as they loaded it up with Virgil’s DJ gear and clothes. After the second year in a row of Remy making it clear she was not welcome on his trips between campus and home, Kelly had insisted she help bring Virgil back up.

“I don’t see why you insist on driving,” she’d hissed over the phone. “Is this some sort of masculinity thing?”

Logan had suppressed a sigh and counted to five before responding. “Of course not, Kelly. Your new car is a two-door coupe. Virgil’s equipment simply won’t fit.”

“So I’ll drive your Pilot, what’s the big deal?”

His grip tightened on the handset until, ache radiating through his fingers and wrist, he forced his hand to relax. “It’s a manual transmission, Kelly.”

“I swear to God, Logan, you bought that damn thing just so I couldn’t drive it!”

“I bought the damn thing—” He sucked in a breath, cutting off his too-quick response. “I bought the Pilot because it has 21 centimeters of chassis clearance, four wheel drive, low rollover risk, maximized cargo and passenger space—”

“I meant the fucking stick shift and you know it. Don’t lecture me about safety features, Logan.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and counted to five again. “Automatic transmission added two thousand dollars to the sticker price and another fifteen grand to the total cost of ownership over twenty ye—.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you? A fucking Car & Driver expert all of a sudden. Fine. I’ll be there at 10.” She’d hung up without saying goodbye.

It was now past 10:30 and Kelly still hadn’t arrived.

“If you truly would prefer to stay in Bellingham, Virgil, I won’t stop you,” Logan turned and peered at his son over the top of the gig box. “We would miss you. I…” He smiled and, seeing Virgil’s anxious gaze at the car, stepped backwards, closer to the steps to allow him to pass. “I would miss you, but I understand it could be—”

His heel skidded against the top step and he stumbled backwards. “Dad!” Virgil cried and dropped his bag. His fingers grazed the top handle of the gig box. But he missed it.

“Lo!” Roman’s panicked voice suddenly boomed a few feet behind him and he fell hard against something—some one—firm and steady, the weight of the gig box pressing him back. “Got you,” he whispered near Logan's ear, strong arms curled around him. Roman carefully pushed him forward until Logan was standing on the top porch step.

“You okay?” Virgil asked, taking the box from him and setting it down. 

“Y-yeah,” Logan nodded breathlessly. The near fall had pushed his heart up in his throat, pounding so hard he was certain they could all hear it. He looked up and smiled into Virgil’s worried eyes. Patton had come running at the commotion and now stood in the doorway, grinning. “I am—I am fine,” he said, nodding again. Roman had moved one hand to his back and now stood next to him, peering closely into his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asked, gaze trailing up and down his body.

Logan blushed. “Yes, I—I—I am uninjured…” He looked down and flexed both feet, bouncing twice. “Thanks to you. I—” His mouth went dry when Roman grinned at him.

“Just lucky timing,” he said. Roman’s hand was still at his back, a welcome warmth despite his sweat-dampened shirt. 

Logan only blushed harder when he realized Roman could feel how disgustingly sweaty he was just from moving a few crates. He nodded and bent to pick up the gig box. “Thank you, Roman, I—”

“Let me help you,” he said, reaching for the other end of the box. “We can work together.” Virgil and Patton exchanged a look that Logan couldn’t quite decipher but he didn’t have long to think about it. “Please?” Roman asked again, a hopeful smile curling his lips. Had he always had that dimple?

“That… that would be most welcome,” he finally said, cheeks warming again at the way Roman’s eyes lit up like he’d given him a gift. “Thank you,” he murmured, dragging his eyes away from Roman’s as they lifted the gig box together. It was significantly easier to manage with a partner.

“This is heavy,” Roman said. “What do you keep in here, Virge?” he asked once they’d slid the box into the trunk. With the third row down, they’d managed to fit all of Virgil’s equipment, plus his clothes and bedding—he was attached to his favorite comforter and brought it down for even short weekend visits.

“That crate holds my records,” he said, stroking the case. “And this one has the amps,” he patted another box. “The actual turntables and mixing board are in the back.”

“Old school,” Roman nodded, grinning again.

Virgil blushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, I do a mix.”

“Virgil’s fantastic.” Logan closed the hatch and just barely resisted ruffling his son's hair.

“Yeah, and Dad’s not just bragging,” Patton piped up as they returned to the porch. “Virge is really good! He DJ'd Jax's birthday party last year.” He grinned at his older brother like he was a rock star. "He was awesome!"

“Pat,” Virgil mumbled, hands shoved in his pockets. “Don’t oversell me.”

“I’d love to hear your work. Do you have a demo?” Roman asked, still smiling, but eyes serious. 

“Uh, yeah,” Virgil’s eyes widened and he ran back to the car. He opened the hatch and fumbled with his backpack, then came back with a CD and a small flash drive. “There’s a QR code for my Soundcloud on the cover. I know, 'old school,'” he said in a rush, pressing it all into Roman’s hands. A soft, shy smile replaced his usual smirk.

“Thank you, Virge,” Roman grinned as he slipped the case and the thumb drive in his pocket. “I look forward to hearing your work.”

Patton danced next to him and linked his arm through Virgil’s. Cheeks still pink, Virgil cleared his throat and tugged him along as Roman and Logan followed. “C’mon, Pat, didn’t you say there was lemonade?”

“I think you made his week,” Logan whispered once they’d stepped inside.

They watched the brothers kick off their shoes and laughingly jostle each other in a race to the kitchen. “It’s nice to see him smile,” he murmured. “His school’s in Bellingham?” Logan nodded and watched some calculation behind Roman’s eyes. He nodded slowly. “There’s an all-ages club up there an old friend of mine owns. Is Virgil looking for a steady gig?"

“A—actually, yes. We have a deal, if he can cover half his rent, I’ll cover the other and he can move out of the dorms…” His voice trailed off, watching Roman’s expression. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I am,” he grinned. “Anyone whose music pleases both ends of that demographic is worth considering.”

Logan stopped just outside the kitchen and looked up at Roman’s face. He was smiling that signature charming smile, but his eyes were sincere. “You’re incredible, you know that, right?”

He winked and Logan felt his face warm. “I was going for ‘outstanding,’” he laughed, “But I’ll take ‘incredible.’”

A loud laugh slipped past the hand Logan slapped over his mouth and the boys turned around, again exchanging a cryptic look before offering them each a sweaty glass. “Lemonade?” Patton grinned, wiggling between them and leading them over to the counter.

Logan took a slow, grateful sip, the cold drink easing a bit of his blush. “Thank you, again, for staying with Patton today,” he said when he felt his control return.

“Yeah, that long of a car ride and I’ll just—” he doubled over and made a gagging sound.

Virgil winced but still laughed. “Nice, Pat.”

“Thank you,” he said proudly, either not catching his brother’s sarcasm or choosing to ignore it.

Ruffling his youngest son’s hair and pulling him close, Logan kissed the top of his head and smiled. Patton hugged back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s nice to get to avoid the Dramamine, isn’t it?”

“And the drama,” Virgil muttered under his breath from in front of the refrigerator. Logan’s eyes snapped up to Roman’s to see if he’d heard. Fuck. He had.

“Hey, why don’t you two do one more sweep of your room?” Logan suggested. He gave Patton another one-armed hug then gripped Virgil’s arm, hoping to make it clear neither were in trouble despite the not-so-subtle dismissal.

Virgil looked between him and Roman, then nodded. “Sure, Dad. C’mon, Pat, I’ll show you which CDs you can’t touch while I’m gone.”

Logan sipped his lemonade and listened for the sound of Virgil’s door opening upstairs before he faced Roman and the questions bubbling behind his eyes. If he was being honest with himself, he had hoped to have a moment or two alone with Roman today. Those interrupted words had played on a constant loop in his mind since their Saturday at the theatre.

Was Logan delusional to think Roman had still been quoting Shakespeare? By now, his mind had filled in the rest, his imagination embellishing the faulty memory with each loop.

‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you.’ 

How had Roman actually intended to end that sentence? How had he wanted it to end? How did he want it to end? 

But each missed opportunity to ask left Logan increasingly certain it had become too late say anything. His stomach churned and a flash of irrational anger sizzled through his veins at the way she still had such a hold on his life. Even now, in private, instead of quenching the curiosity burning through his brain, instead of enjoying a quiet moment with his friend, he was stuck explaining Kelly.

“My divorce was… less than amicable.” He gripped his drink with both hands, fingers tapping against the cold glass. “I worked hard to keep as much of the animosity from boys as possible, but…”

“But someone else didn’t get the memo?” Roman finished after a moment, gently bumping their shoulders together. Logan could only nod.

“Do you think some of whatever seeps through is part of Patton’s, uh…” He quietly mimicked the boy's earlier demonstration, pulling a small, huffed laugh from Logan. Roman’s tiny pleased smile at his reaction made Logan feel better than he deserved.

“It’s likely.” Logan swallowed back his surprise at how much Roman had picked up with just a few words. “He’d been excited to drive up with Virgil… at least until he heard she was coming.”

The sound of a car slowing just outside the kitchen window was followed by Virgil’s call as he ran downstairs, “Mom’s here!” After shoving his feet into his sneakers, he clasped Roman’s hand and they gave each other a sort of half hug. “See you next time?” he asked, hopeful.

“I’ll text you after I listen to your demo tonight,” he nodded, smiling brighter when Virgil’s tough guy smirk again melted into a true grin. 

“Cool,” he said, nodding. “See ya, Pat,” he turned to his brother. “Stay outta my room.”

“I always stay out of your room!” Unable to keep up his feigned offense, Patton ended up laughing. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bye, Dad,” he grinned, quickly hugging Logan before grabbing Roman’s hand, headed toward the game room downstairs. “Hey, wanna play Mario Kart?”

“Homework first, please!” Logan reminded him, pointing to the chore chart on the wall. He decided he did not catch Patton’s partially hidden eye roll.

Roman gave him a little salute. “He’s in good hands, Mr. Sanders,” he assured.

“I know,” Logan smiled. Body moving without his full control, he stepped closer, arms open. The sudden car horn blaring outside froze him.

“Let’s go, Dad,” Virgil muttered, pulling him away.

Waving weakly, Logan nodded, face aflame over what he’d been about to do. “We’ll be back before six.”

---

Taglist: @crossiantgay

reviving the old tag list, ask to be added B-)

#The Uses of Adversity #ts logan #ts roman #logince #eventually #ts remus #ts janus #dukeceit #demus #ts patton #ts virgil #Kelly Croft - OC #Logan Sanders #Roman Prince #Remus Prince #Janus Prince neé Pater #Virgil Sanders #Patton Croft #part two after It Could Always Be Worse #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #what happened when Janus and Remus met after Jack's party and Janus never walked home alone that night #cw fighting

[edupunkn00b]

It Could Always Be Worse, Ch. 8: The Past is a Different Country

Butterfly universe version of Happily Ever After, Ch. 8: The Past is a Different Country.

Prev - The Past is a Different Country - Next - All - [ AO3 ]

WC: 998 - Rated: T - CW: none? Except for slimeball Devin (renamed OC) is in this chapter. Janus is not unsympathetic, just… he never got the chance to know Logan in this universe.

"The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there." - L.P. Harley, The Go-Between (1953)

Logan went in to the office the next day. His head throbbed and he'd needed an entire pot of coffee in the morning just to begin to feel alert enough to drive, but the roiling ache in his chest had returned to its regular and quiet this-shy-of-scalding rumble, so he'd gone in. He was just passing Janus' office when his boss called out to him through the open door. "Oh, um... Logan? Would you come in here for a moment please?"

Logan stopped, sucking in a breath. Time to face the figurative music. You can't skip two days of work and expect not to have to talk to the boss. He pressed a smile onto his face, "Yes, Janus?"

"I'm glad to catch you, I was going to come find you yesterday but the day go away from me." Janus gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." Logan sat and braced himself, gripping the armrests tightly. "I have a favor to ask."

Logan's eyes shot open in surprise. "Oh, of course! How can I help you?"

Janus spread his hands out in front of him. "I was wondering if you could take on a couple of my cases. I'm taking a few days off. You met my husband at the Holiday Party last year, didn't you?" Logan nodded. No-one could forget meeting Janus' husband. In fact, he'd seen him several times over the years,. "Well, our anniversary is coming up and we’re having a bit of a party and I need the time to organize and for a little, you know, trip, afterwards."

"Oh, of course, I’d be happy to help out." Janus grinned and opened the drawer next to him, retrieving a few file folders. He handed them to Logan, who smiled back at him. "Congratulations on the anniversary."

Janus bowed his head, smiling as he glanced at a picture of their wedding day on his desk. "Thank you, it's been quite a journey so far."

Logan followed his gaze and felt a bittersweet smile wash over his face when he saw how happy they both looked in their picture. He pulled his eyes away from the frame and met Janus'. "I’ll take care of these cases, you won’t have to worry about a thing. Just enjoy your anniversary—and your party." Logan started to stand, hefting the case files and holding them against his chest.

Devin stuck his head in Janus' office as he walked by, “Hey, Jan, what time should I be there tonight?”

"Oh, excuse me, I'll—I'll leave you to it," he stuttered, heading for the door. Just before he left, he turned back and smiled at Janus, “I’m really happy for you both. See you when you get back."

Devin watched him walk down the hall toward his own office. Devin stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "That guy's so weird."

"Who? Cro—" Janus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Logan?

Devin nodded, "Yeah, him. You went to law school with him, didn't you?"

Janus nodded, staring off in the direction Logan went. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Has he always been like that? All..." Devin stiffened his face and did part of the Robot dance.

Janus side-eyed his friend before shaking his head lightly. "He's very private, very formal... He just doesn't like to talk about himself." Janus shrugged, "He's turned into a decent enough guy, I guess."

Devin scrunched his nose, "Like does he ever even talk to anyone here? I've never seen him go to lunch with anyone and I'd swear it was the second coming if he showed up at a happy hour."

Janus smirked at Devin, "Not everybody's a gossipy bitch like us."

Devin laughed. "But I mean, outside of work? Does anybody even know anything about him? Is he secretly a serial killer and he practices social justice law for kicks?"

Janus leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him, considering. "Well, he's married, or, was married, has a... couple of kids?" Janus shook his head again, waving his hand dismissively. "He likes to keep his personal life and his work life separate.

"He's an excellent lawyer. He was one of the primary writers on the Marriage Equality act, and has defended it in court four times since then. And" Janus stared significantly at Devin, "He takes on at least twice as many pro bono DV cases as you..." Devin made a face at him. Janus shrugged again, "He clearly has a passion for the work."

"Yeah, I know, but, come on..." Devin raised an eyebrow at his boss and his friend, "He doesn't exactly, you know, fit the culture here?"

Janus glared at him. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that."

Devin picked up a tiny metal Rubix Cube from Janus' desk and sat back fiddling with it. "I just think the guy comes off as kinda... Cold." He frowned. "Unapproachable."

Janus shrugged, looking at the door. "We can't all be best friends here, I guess. Logan does good work. That's enough. We can overlook his, you know, standoffishness. He's polite and professional. He doesn't have to like us, too."

Devin played with the cube in his hands then finally looked up at Janus, smiling. "So... about your brother in law."

Janus grinned. "Yes, I think you'll like him."

"Well," Devin swooped his hand in a little 'go on' motion.  "Tell me more..."

Janus laughed. "Well, he's smart, funny, hot... You know they're twins, right?

Devin winked lasciviously. Janus made a face, "Uh-uh, none of your usual plays here or I'm calling this off. He's a nice guy. Don't hurt him."

Devin managed to look scandalized and flirtatious at the same time. "I won't, I swear."

"I mean it, for your own sake, too. My husband is very protective. Remus will kick your ass if you hurt his brother." Janus waved his hand, dismissing Devin when his phone rang. "And I'll help him."

#It Could Always Be Worse #ts logan #ts janus #Logan Sanders #Janus Prince neé Pater #Devin Williams - OC #slimeball Devin #(spoiler) #janus did warn him #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction

[edupunkn00b]

Out of Context Spoiler: The Uses of Adversity, Under the Greenwood Tree

A little peek into the next chapter of The Uses of Adversity.

“Mmm, Ro’s got the inside track!” he grinned at Janus. “It sounds like he could drive here in his sleep.” Re turned and waggled his eyebrows. “Do you sneak out after curfew to see your boyfriend?” “Lo’s not the only reason I come to Kirkland,” he muttered. “And he’s not my—”

Extra Remus below the cut (M rated)

Re cackled as Janus shifted gears and cut the engine. “Maybe he’s just the only reason you come in—” "Remus!"

#The Uses of Adversity #ts remus #ts janus #ts roman #Remus Prince #Roman Prince #Janus Prince neé Pater #ts logan #Logan Sanders #mentioned #logince #implied

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity - Out of Context Quote

For Two Days Later, the next chapter in our little tale.

“Logan?” Polished shoes froze mid-stride outside his office door and Logan turned to face him. “Would you come in here, please?”

“Oh, J—Janus,” he sputtered, clutching a thick redwell of case files close to his chest. “I—I did—didn’t realize you were in yet.”

We haven’t seen much of these two yet.

That’s about to change.

#The Used of Adversity #logan sanders #janus prince neé pater #ts janus #ts logan #ts remy #remy sanders

[edupunkn00b]

It wasn’t until I re-listened to the Happily Ever After playlists that I remembered Janus Prince neé Pater never quite escaped his southern boy music tastes.

Roceit song from Objections. And somehow it fit.

#Happily Ever After #Objections #ts janus #ts roman #Roman Prince #Janus Prince neé Pater #roceit #Spotify