#Janus is leading the kiss - the way he’s reaching for Remus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

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popcorn & pronouns

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Janus, Remus, Roman Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Dukeceit, Creativitwins Warnings: Not much to warn for in this one. Language, a little bit of suggestiveness, vague non-detailed descriptions of a horror movie. Word count: 3402

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My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

Dukeceit Week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: A movie night date leads to an important conversation. Already being t4t makes it a lot easier. Or, in Remus's own words, “This is just, like, going to be a week of people coming out to me, I guess. Huh.”

Notes: Day 6 of Dukeceit Week 2021! Almost there! @dukeceitweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, where each piece can be read without any context. Takes place 9 months after college; at the start of the story, Janus uses only they/them pronouns.

“Ooh, popcorn! Can I have some?” Roman popped his head into the kitchen of the apartment he, Remus, and Logan had shared in the nine or so months since they had all graduated college.

“No, Jan and I are having a date in twenty minutes,” Remus said, waving Roman off without looking away from the air popper.

“Okay, I don’t see how that’s relevant to my question.” Roman pushed himself to sit on the counter by the sink. “I mean, that’s really cute, I hope you have fun. But can I have some popcorn?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Make your own when I’m done.”

“But you make it better!” Roman pouted overdramatically.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “All I do is plug in the machine?”

“Right, which is better than me doing it.” Roman grinned at them. “Less work for me.”

“Hey!” Remus swatted his arm. “The transphobia, honestly—”

“Well, if you making it for me is transphobic to you, then you not making it for me is—” Roman broke off quite suddenly, his expression undergoing several shifts very fast that Remus could not make sense of. Which was… unusual, to say the least. Roman was normally the one person they could always count on understanding. They didn’t like this new development one bit.

“Ro?”

“Iiiiiit’s… queerphobic to me,” Roman said at last, a worried pinch to his eyebrows. He laughed, and it almost didn’t sound forced. “So we’re at a tie, so you should just make me popcorn.”

“First of all, I’m queer too, make your own damn popcorn. Second—” Remus turned away from the popcorn machine and gave Roman his full attention, leaning back against the kitchen island and tilting his head to the side. “Do you wanna talk about whatever the fuck that was?” So far as Remus knew, Roman was bi; that was the label he’d been using for years and years, so long that it practically felt like forever. Since almost the very beginning of high school. Since before Remus had questioned their gender, even. Only last week, he’d called the light switch biphobic without hesitation when it broke.

Whatever had happened to make him so very deliberately not call himself bi just now, it was new.

Roman’s expression closed up very fast indeed, but not before Remus caught a flash of something he was almost certain was fear. “No.”

“You know it’s okay to question, right?” Remus inquired awkwardly. “No matter what specifically, and no matter what the outcome is? Yeah?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You know I’d still love you no matter what, right? Even if you were, like, a straight man—like, I would make so many jokes about not agreeing with your lifestyle, but—Ro, you know everything is always gonna be okay, right?”

Roman glared at him. “Remus, I don’t want to talk about it.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I’m definitely not straight.”

Remus blinked and raised their hands. “Alright. I didn’t mean literally straight, I just meant—you could be literally whatever, and it would be cool. That was—like—the most extreme example I could think of, you know?”

Roman let out a slight huff of laughter. “Thanks,” he said reluctantly after a pause. “It’s nothing, though.”

“Bullshit,” Remus said immediately.

“It—” Roman swallowed. “I need it to be nothing, okay?”

“If anyone’s making you feel shitty, I’ll beat them up,” Remus said immediately. “Even if it’s Patton. Just drop the names. I’ll do it. I’ll—”

“Remus, it’s fine. I want to stop fucking talking about it now!” Roman snapped.

Remus hesitated, fumbling for what to do or say next, everything about the conversation feeling just a little wrong and sideways.

Roman sighed. “Sorry.” He pushed off the counter, went to the fridge, and stared into it for a solid thirty seconds, then took a cheese stick out of the door. “I’ll make my own popcorn later,” he mumbled and retreated back to his room.

“Damn, alright,” Remus said to the empty room. “Be like that, I guess.” They flung their hands into the air and went to get the butter they’d been melting in the microwave before Roman’s appearance.

Roman would talk to them about it, whatever it was, eventually. He always did. And whatever was bugging him, Remus would figure out a way to bug it back until it stopped and Roman was all happy and bubbly again. Because that was what Remus always did. It would be fine. It was just a waiting game.

Remus sighed. He always hated waiting.

***

“Mmkay,” Remus said, when Janus had arrived, and they had worked together to move the TV out of the living room and into Remus’s room, and they had settled in on Remus’s bed—Remus sitting up against the headboard and Janus half-laying in Remus’s lap with their long thin legs stretched out along the bed and their head on his chest—and the popcorn had been set beside them where they could both reach it, and the blanket nest had been fluffed once more. “What shall we watch?”

Janus was silent for a long moment. Actually, come to think of it, they had been quiet since they’d arrived at the apartment—even more quiet than usual. But Remus was almost certain they weren’t nonverbal, seeing as they had exchanged a few fond words with him. It just hadn’t been very many words.

“Janny, baby?” Remus leaned forward, over their shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of their face.

Janus had their fingers knotted in the blanket that was spread over their lap, fidgeting with it anxiously, a thinking-hard expression on their face.

“Baby?” Remus curled one hand lightly around theirs. “You good?”

“Choices are too hard right now,” Janus said at last.

“Okay, that’s okay. Do you know what you need?”

“I want to watch a movie.” Janus frowned. “I just can’t choose.”

“Gotcha. No problem.” Remus pressed a kiss to their cheek. “I’m really good at choosing.” He threaded his fingers through Janus’s long hair, scratching soothingly at their scalp in just the way he knew they liked, and pulled up the library of movies, switching from Roman’s profile to his own.

“How’s some really cheesy horrible horror film we can make fun of sound?” he asked, scrolling with the remote and still playing with Janus’s hair with his other hand. “I know we have a bunch of those, I loved ’em when we were kids and I think they’re funny.”

“That sounds fine.” Janus nodded and relaxed a little further against Remus.

“Good.” He kissed the top of their head. “Do you need anything else?”

Janus shook their head. “I’ve just been kind of stressed lately. Work’s been shit, and all that. It’s fine. I just want to cuddle and things.”

“Ooh, ‘and things,’ I like the sound of that,” Remus teased, sliding his hand gently to their chin and drawing them to twist around far enough that he could kiss them soft and slow.

“I didn’t say what kinds of things,” Janus said innocently, their eyes still closed and so close to Remus that their lips brushed against his as they spoke. “Perhaps I could be persuaded later.”

“I’ll be sure to prepare my best arguments,” Remus said, leaning slightly up to kiss their forehead and then back down to their lips for another lazy kiss, taking his time and exploring Janus’s mouth until they sighed and melted against him.

“A compelling preview,” they murmured, their eyes still closed and the slightest smile curling at their lips.

Remus meant to make some kind of witty quip in return, really he did, but all that came out of his mouth was a quiet, awed, “Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful, Jan.”

Janus’s eyes opened and met his for a moment, soft and vulnerable, before they turned and hid their face in his neck. “Love you,” they whispered against his skin.

“Mm, I love you too,” Remus said happily, wrapping his arms securely around Janus and kissing the top of their head. “Love your pretty eyes and skin and hair and body, love how clever you are, love your scary goth clothes, love your snark, love your stims, love you—”

Janus whined wordlessly into his neck, pressing kisses to it and fisting their hands in the front of his shirt.

Remus chuckled, taking a handful of their hair and gently tugging until they looked up at him once more. “Do you want to watch a movie at all, or do you just wanna make out? Cause I’d be good with either, but if you wanna do a movie, we should get on that before we’re too distracted.”

“Oh.” Janus leaned their head back a little until it was resting against Remus’s hand. “Not that I don’t want to make out, but—”

“Nah, I gotcha. Gotta at least get through the popcorn, am I right?” Remus cast about for the remote, lost in the blanket pile, as Janus shifted about until they faced the television again.

“There it is!” Remus snatched the remote up, clicking through the library on the television until he saw the particular film he was thinking of and pulled it up. “This look good?”

“‘When moving into their new house, little do our protagonists know it is haunted by a demonic serial killer. Will they get out in time? Or will they be his next victims?’” Janus read the summary aloud. “Sounds absolutely thrilling. Extremely original. Love the bad Photoshop on the cover. I’m sure the acting will be of the highest quality.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s so shitty, I love it. So many cheesy effects and fake blood, it’s the actual stupidest shit,” Remus assured them. “I love it, though. Went as the demon thing for Halloween when I was nine. Nobody fucking knew what I was, but I had the time of my life. And got fake blood on Roman when he wasn’t looking. It was great.”

Janus chuckled, reaching up to brush their fingertips against Remus’s cheek. “Well, with such a glowing review from someone so attractive, how can I resist?” they said fondly.

“That’s the spirit!” Remus hit play.

Remus had watched this particular movie more times than they could count over the course of their childhood. He peppered commentary throughout the film:

“This is my favorite part, if you pay attention you can see her real fingertips holding onto the fake hand she’s about to get chopped off!”

“There’s a jumpscare in this scene, I know you hate those—okay, hit the skip-ten-seconds button in three, two, there. Perfect. Dumbass demon movie can’t even trust itself to be creepy without cheap scares.”

“Look, I know the mom is supposed to have some kind of hot blonde thing going on for the horny straight men in the audience, but she’s got nothing on you.”

“For some reason they made a director’s commentary and it actually includes the fake blood recipe they used, I’ll show you sometime!”

Janus, in turn, provided brilliant, extremely snarky roasts, mostly of either the actors’ absolute lack of skill or the gaping plot holes:

“Oh, yes, going alone to the attic at midnight without so much as a candle is a fantastic idea, nothing bad could possibly happen in this scene.”

“Listen, I can excuse the children because they’re about eight years old, but do you think this man has ever even heard of acting? Or even, like, speaking in a non-monotone?”

“I am truly fascinated by the special effects department’s understanding of human anatomy.”

“So, the demon feeds on misery? Why hasn’t it taken up residence in a large office building? I mean, come on, hundreds of souls in an environment designed to grind out constant levels of misery? It’s perfect. The poor thing must be starving out here in the two-point-five-kids-and-a-dog suburbs, every meal it gets is tiny. I would be so much better at its job than it is.”

At last the credits rolled.

“Wanna see pictures of the costume I made?” Remus asked.

“Sure.” Janus sounded amused.

“Lemme just—” Remus scrolled through their camera roll for a minute. “Oh, here they are.” They displayed their phone to Janus; tiny nine-year-old Remus, who sported long tangled brown hair in two ponytails, was draped in a black curtain, donated by his great-aunt, that he had very enthusiastically taken a pair of scissors to to create a tattered effect; the curtain was splattered with bright red goo, and tiny Remus had a pair of plastic knives in his hands, which were blurry in almost every photo because they’d hardly stopped making stabbing motions all evening. To their right, their little sister Gabby, who’d been six at the time, was dressed as Elastigirl and making a punching motion; to their right, Roman—who had already been a full three inches taller than Remus, even at nine—was wearing a Belle dress with a poofy skirt and a sword strapped around his waist and a huge smile that was missing one front tooth.

Remus swiped through the photos; a delightful scene unfolded, as tiny Remus posed for a few pictures, then in one was blurrily turning towards Roman, then dumping something on him, then Roman was screaming and Remus was laughing as red goo dripped down the poofy yellow skirt; Gabby watched with both hands clapped over her mouth, eyes huge.

“You two really have not changed at all, have you?” Janus asked, stifling laughter.

“Absolutely not,” Remus agreed with an answering laugh. “I think the most that either of us ever changed was when I chopped off all that hair and dyed it green.”

“When was that?” Janus asked.

“Sophomore year of high school. I did not have permission to chop it all off, but I did get permission to dye it afterwards, so that was pretty sick.”

“And that didn’t go against dress code?” Janus inquired.

“No, actually. Not sure how. But I bet my parents would’ve kicked up a big stink about it if the school tried and made me change it; they were always super big on self expression and shit.” Remus gestured towards the picture, indicating tiny Roman in his princess dress. “We always got to wear whatever we wanted, and shit like that. It was nice. Made gender shit way easier when that became a thing for me, you know?”

“It sounds nice,” Janus said softly. “I’m happy you had that.”

Remus nodded and pressed a kiss to their forehead, reaching for a handful of the popcorn dregs in the bottom of the bowl.

Janus shifted in their arms, rolling over to face Remus and propping themself up on their elbows. “Actually,” they began.

Something on their face told Remus that whatever this new topic of conversation was, it was important. He swallowed the half-chewed popcorn in his mouth. “Yeah, baby?”

“Speaking of gender.” Janus picked at the edge of the blanket.

“I love speaking of that, go on.” Remus tousled Janus’s hair fondly.

Janus took a deep breath, staring at the blanket in their hands. “I want to start using he pronouns again. In addition to my regular ones. Or.” They wrinkled their nose. “My current ones, I guess. So, he/they.”

“That’s great, he/they pronouns are very sexy,” Remus said at once.

Janus laughed, looking up at him at last. “That’s true, you are the sexiest person I know,” he said fondly. A shadow passed over his features. “But,” he went on slowly, chewing on the inside of their lip and picking at the blanket once more.

“Yeah?” Remus encouraged.

“I really don’t like the idea of telling anyone else about that.” Janus grimaced. “I keep worrying I’ll get asked stupid questions about ‘oh, so are you a man again now?’ when—like—no, and I never was one in the first place. So.”

“Oh, that sounds gross,” Remus agreed at once. “I can see why you’d be worried about that.”

Janus nodded. “I just—I don’t want to explain. And I don’t want people to ask questions. And they might. And I just—I don't want any of it. I want to skip to the part where they know and it’s all how I want it to be.”

“That’s reasonable,” Remus agreed. “But, I mean, if they can get me using he/they pronouns and being nonbinary, they had better fucking wrap their minds around the concept of you doing it too. Yeah? Or I’ll make ’em. Violently, if you want.”

Janus snorted. “I appreciate the offer, darling.” They reached up and touched his cheek. “I… don’t know if I want to tell anyone else yet. But I did want to tell you.”

“You got it, cutie.” Remus booped Janus’s nose once. “Just let me know if anything changes. I’ll punch people for you. Anytime. They don’t even have to have done anything. Just point me at them and consider it done.”

Janus did laugh at that, outright, scrunching up his face and burying it in Remus’s chest. “I should not be this into you offering to punch people for me,” he said wryly.

Remus grinned and flipped their hair. “Nah, I think it’s definitely very sexy of me and should absolutely turn you on.”

Janus smacked Remus’s arm. “I did not say that!”

“You implied it.”

“Not… necessarily. That was one possible interpretation—”

“Oh, right, I see, mmhm, very interesting.”

They smacked his arm again. “You’re teasing me.”

“Only a little bit. You’re so pretty when you get all flustered.” Remus bent their head at a somewhat awkward angle to kiss Janus’s lips gently. “Are there any new words you want me to use, by the way?” they asked. “Besides updating pronouns?”

Janus tilted his head to the side, considering. “I think… I still like all the sorts of things you call me already. Pretty, and partner, and—and baby, and so on.”

Remus smirked. “That’s good, I like calling you baby.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Janus hid their face in their hands.

“Why, baby?” Remus asked innocently.

Janus made a strangled noise, and after a pause carried on. “I do think I wouldn’t mind adding a little bit of… masc terminology? I guess? If that makes sense? Adding that into the mix. Not all the time, and not as much as the things you already call me, but… just a bit would be nice.”

“Gotcha.” Remus nodded. “I can do that. So, like, my baby is very pretty and handsome?”

Janus’s cheeks went bright red in an instant, and he hid his face in Remus’s chest again, letting out a tiny wordless scream. “Yes. That. That—that’s nice,” they managed after a pause, sounding almost entirely composed.

Remus chuckled and ran their fingers through Janus’s hair. “Good to know,” he said teasingly. “I will definitely keep this in mind.”

“Oh my god,” Janus mumbled. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Absolutely, but only in a sexy way of making you happy.” Remus kissed the top of their head. “This is just, like, going to be a week of people coming out to me, I guess,” they mused. “Huh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, something’s clearly eating at someone else we know, and I think they’re going to tell me about whatever it is within the week. That’s all. It was just funny timing.” Remus kissed the top of Janus’s head again. “So, the movie’s over,” they noted, which, sure, was a blatant and deliberate change of subject, but he felt this was justified, both for avoiding-speculating-about-Roman’s-personal-information purposes and, more importantly, for fun-after-movie-things purposes.

“That it is,” Janus said, a particular innocent tone entering their voice. Excellent, he was of a similar mind to Remus, then.

Remus grinned and drew them up for a kiss. “So, what does the very pretty and handsome and lovely human in my arms want to do now?” he inquired.

Janus made another small, wordless, flustered noise and promptly dragged Remus into another kiss. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“What, about how you’re the loveliest—prettiest—sexiest—” Remus pressed tiny kisses to Janus’s lips with each word, until at last they caught his lips with their own in a proper kiss to shut him up. “Pretty sure I can say it, actually,” Remus murmured against his lips. “Cause it’s true.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Janus said, sounding very pleased indeed, and kissed them again.

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld @peruviandesertfox

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teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years

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sunshine on my sunday best

summary: janus and remus get ready for a party, featuring fancy clothes and soft gays. (OR: my entry for dukeceit week 2021 day 4, free day)

a/n: i got seized by the inspiration bug, so i churned out some sappy gays for day 4 (free day) of @dukeceitweek

CW: brief, nonspecific mentions of funerals and corpses in a professional context (remus is a mortician), swearing

wordcount: ~1.3k

read it on ao3!!

“Darling, are you nearly done in there?” Janus calls, opening a polished wooden box and examining the gloves laid out within it. He plucks out a pair of golden-yellow gloves that he reserves for the most special of occasions and lays them on his vanity. “Remus?” Remus clatters around in the bathroom, doors locked, and Janus sighs. “May I take that as a yes?”

“I’m trying not to stab my eye out with my mascara!”

“A simple yes would have sufficed,” Janus says, rolling his eyes. He steps to the door of their bedroom, pulls it open, and calls down the hallway to their children.

“Are you two getting dressed for your cousin’s graduation party?”

“Yes, Papa!” they respond. Janus steps back into his room, opening his jewelry box, and tilts his head, considering. He selects a pair of golden cufflinks with “JS” engraved on them, a brooch shaped like a coiled golden snake with gleaming emerald eyes, and a golden tie pin.

“Are you dressing up fancy?”

“Of course I am! It’s not every day that our nephew graduates with a master’s degree at twenty-two. I assume you’ll be wearing something fancier than a crop-top hoodie and booty shorts?”

“But I like the booty shorts!” Remus whines.

“I put on good makeup for this,” Janus says. “I broke out the lace gloves for this. It is a nice dinner at a nice place.”

“Chill out, Jan, I promise I dress up nice. Besides, I think Roman would kill me if I didn’t look nice for his son’s fancy party, and that’s not the way I plan to go.”

Janus glances over to the framed photo on his vanity. It shows a younger Remus, only one white streak in his hair instead of his current salt-and-pepper gray, wearing a deep green wedding gown accented with silvery ocean patterns. Janus stands opposite him, in a gleaming golden tuxedo decorated with snake scale patterns and a motif of coiled snakes on the back. They are holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, framed by an arch of golden-orange sunset roses. Janus smiles, drags one finger along the shining frame, and adjusts his wedding ring.

“I know, my love. And you know that despite my . . . fondness for fancy dress, I will love you no matter what you choose to wear?”

“I know, Jannie. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

“Only one?”

“Oh, trust me. There’s far more, but if I get started on that I’ll wax poetic for days and we will almost certainly miss the dinner, and I think that’ll upset you.”

“You know me so well, my love. You’re so sweet to me, and only me.”

“Only you!” Remus laughs. Janus hums, pinning his brooch to his lapel and clipping his tie. He looks in the mirror, admiring his face - glittering eye makeup, eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch, highlighter like diamonds, and a full, blood-red lip. For a finishing touch, he picks up a diamond lip gloss and swipes it across his lips.

The bathroom door opens, and Janus turns to Remus to examine his outfit and promptly freezes. Remus has silvery eyeliner with curled eyelashes, no eye makeup to cover the laugh lines around the corners of his eyes that Janus adores so much. His face is contoured, bringing out his cheekbones, and he’s wearing pale green lipstick that matches his green gloves and four-inch green heels and emerald necklace. He wears a long, sleek black dress that hugs him in all the right ways, and Janus cannot stop staring.

“Janus?” Remus says, reaching over to set a hand on Janus’s shoulder. “Babe, you’ve been staring at me for like, five minutes. Is everything okay?” Janus blinks, clearing his eyes, and his husband’s concerned face comes back into focus.

“Yes,” he says softly. “Yes, I - I’m sorry, my love. I lost track of my thought when I was looking into your eyes.” Remus flushes slightly, leaning down to press his forehead to Janus’s.

“You can’t keep flustering me like that, Jan, not when I don’t have the time to throw you upon the bed and ravish you properly.” Janus lets out a very undignified giggle (one that he will absolutely deny if Remus tries to call him out about it later) as Remus sweeps him off his feet and spins him around.

“Remus, please!” Janus gasps. “I’ll mess up my makeup! And you’ll mess up yours! And we have to leave, soon!”

“Fine,” Remus pouts, setting Janus down and using the advantage his heels give him to lean down and press a little kiss to Janus’s hair. Janus shivers happily, leaning in to gently press his nose to Remus’s neck, before leaning back.

“Fix your lipstick, dearest,” Janus says, primly smoothing Remus’s dress. “I’ll go check on the boys.” Remus grins, adjusting Janus’s tie clip before sending him off into the hall.

Janus sweeps down the hallway and knocks on the bedroom door, admiring the pale blue and dark purple origami butterflies adorning it. “May I open the door to check on you?”

“Yes,” Virgil calls. Janus opens the door and sees one of his children standing in front of the floor-length mirror. Xe’re adjusting xir purple and black suit, playing with the iridescent bow tie and frowning at xir sleeve. “Do I look alright, Papa?”

“You look wonderful, dear,” Janus says. “Let me fix the cuff of your jacket, hmmm? It looks like you’re having trouble.”

“Yes please,” Virgil exhales. Janus steps forward and fixes the cuff in one swift motion. He carefully readjusts the crescent-shaped silver hair ornament keeping Virgil’s bangs pinned out of xir eyes and makes sure that xir makeup isn’t smudged. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Of course. Is your brother nearly ready?”

“I’ll meet you downstairs!” Patton calls from the attached bathroom. “Go on ahead without me, I’m just putting on the finishing touches. Won’t be more than a minute or two, I promise!”

“Very well, Patton. The car will be here shortly.” Janus heads for the long, spiralling staircase that leads to their foyer, with Virgil close behind him. Remus is waiting for them, draped in an elegant green lace shawl that Janus and Virgil wove for his birthday last year. Janus walks over to him and takes his arm, smiling at his husband. Virgil gags at them sarcastically as xe approaches, and Janus takes a minute to gaze over his family’s outfits, huffing out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jan?” Remus asks.

“We certainly make an . . . interesting bunch all together, don’t we?” Janus says

“We look like we’re going to a funeral,” Virgil says, rolling xir eyes.

“Oooh, I hope it’s open-casket! I want to roast the other morticians who don’t know how to to apply makeup to a corpse correctly. They never ever do it right, I’m the only one who does, and it pisses me off!”

Remus continues to infodump about proper mortuary preparations for nearly four minutes. Janus glances at the grandfather clock near the staircase. “We should be leaving now . . . where is Patton?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Patton hurries down the stairs, and Janus gazes at his oldest child. He’s wearing a sky-blue dress with a pleated a-line skirt, patterned with cherry blossoms along the hem, and a pale pink cardigan sides around his shoulders. His purse is shaped like a pink kitty head, matching his pink tights and sky-blue kitten heels, and the clip in his hair is three crystal cherry blossoms. If it weren’t for his dark hair and abnormally silver-grey eyes, he wouldn’t look anything like the rest of his family.

“The golden retriever arrives,” Remus says fondly, reaching over to ruffle Patton’s hair. Patton laughs, sliding his phone into his purse. “That makes all of us, then. Ready to go?” Virgil and Patton nod, and Janus snaps his fingers twice.

“I’ll summon the driver.”

#starshinewrites #dukeceit week 2021 #dukeceit #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #nonbinary virgil sanders

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hannahdra-ws · 3 years

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and now (you’re hyper paranoid)

Summary:

hypochondria; n; abnormal anxiety about one's health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease.

(or: Janus has a very bad time.)

Romantic, established dukeceit

TWs: hypochondria, covid-19, panic attacks, unspecified eating disorder, coughing, crying

----------

Through the uneasy feeling, Janus knew he was being a little unrealistic.

He's perfectly healthy, he rarely gets sick. He hasn't even had the flu before. He's double vaccinated, and he wears his mask everywhere. He's certainly never gotten food poisoning before.

So he doesn't know why he's freaking out so much.

read on ao3

Janus stared at the plate in front of him, heart thumping so loudly he was almost sure the others at the table could hear it. It wasn't anything major, it was just meatloaf with a side of mashed potatoes and corn, and Patton and Logan (mostly Logan) spent a lot of time on it, so there's no reason he shouldn't eat it.

The others are enjoying it too, bantering and joking across the table without a care in the world. Roman was basically sitting in Logan's lap, and Four Idiots (as Janus and Remus dubbed them as) kept sending each other equally besotted expressions. Remus was next to him, gesturing animatedly while he talked with one hand and the other hand tightly gripped in Janus's own.

He felt off kilter and shaky, watching everyone eat their food. Janus knows he should be eating too, and logically he knows that there is a very small chance of him getting food poisoning. But that doesn't make the debilitating anxiety welling up inside him go away.

Oh God, he's going to get sick, somethings wrong with the meat he'll get sick and vo-

Ugh. Virgil's the one that has the anxiety problem, not him. Why did his brother have to give him his mental illness? Bitch.

Suddenly, a loud noise happened, forcefully dragging Janus out of his mind. It was Roman, coughing loudly. He kept hacking, and hacking, and Janus abruptly felt faint.

The others were watching with concern, and Logan was patting Roman on the back to get whatever had lodged in his throat out. Eventually, he did clear his airways, after a long breath in and a particularly violent cough.

Patton inquired if he was okay, and Roman nodded, face red and tears streaming down his face from coughing so much. "Sorry, I choked." His voice was scratchy from coughing. But he was smiling, and that should have been an indicator that he was okay, he just choked, he's fine-

Remus made some comment, and Virgil flipped him off while still looking worriedly in Roman's direction, but Janus suddenly couldn't hear through the ringing in his ears. Remus must have noticed either the way he abruptly went still, or the fact that he had barely eaten anything, because he squeezed his hand in question. Janus abruptly stood up from the table, almost knocking his chair down in the process.

Remus frowned, a small, confused thing, "Jaybird? You alright?"

"I'm sorry, if you'll excuse me," Janus managed to choke out, before quickly ripping his hand from Remus's and stumbling away, ignoring the protests and calls from the table behind him.

He hopes no one noticed that he didn't finish his meal.

----

Janus stumbled to his room, heart beating out of his chest, thump, thump, thump. He quickly locked the door and slid his back down to the floor, digging his gloved hands in his hair and pulling.

Roman's dry hacking wouldn't leave his head, oh God he sounded sick, but he's not he just choked he's fine, he doesn't have covid none of you do you're all vaccinated, fuck-

Janus was acutely aware that he was crying, now, his chest tight and his throat sore from the tears. He was trembling, small and terrified against the back of his door, and he couldn't stop thinking.

Janus had to go back to school in a week. School, with its crowded areas and unvaccinated people and possible removal of masks. The very thought of it makes his heart jump into his throat, dizzy with terror.

What if one of them had covid, and we just didn't have any symptoms, what if the vaccine doesn't work against the variant, fuck, he's going to get it, maybe he already has it, he's going to die he's going to die he can't breathe-

He suddenly had the image of his own funeral in his head, his boyfriend and his friends and his brother at his own funeral, crying softly and holding each other. He envisioned himself in the afterlife, waiting for them, watching Remus suffer alone because he wasn't there-

And that horrifying image in his head is what turned his soft crying into desperate sobs, shaking and pulling his hair so tight it stung.

And that's also when he finally registered the frantic knocking on the door, how long has that been going on? and Remus's panicked voice coming from the other side.

"Jan? Baby, I can hear you crying, fuck, are you hurt? If you want me to fuck off, tell me, but- Oh, Jay, please answer, even a knock, just let me know if you're alright-"

Janus reached with trembling hands to unlock the door, even as his mind went no don't he could be sick, and he quickly moved away from the door a little so Remus wouldn't smack him in the face with the door when he came bursting in.

And burst in he did. In a flurry of motion, Remus quickly came in and shut the door behind him, then sat on the floor with panicked, worried eyes looking at Janus.

"Janus? Can you- fuck, I'm not good at this- can I touch you?"

Somewhere, in the back behind the panic, Janus found his stumbling endearing.

Janus debated for half a second, social distance 6 feet apart you'll die you'll die you'll die, before crumbling to his desire to be held.

"Pl- Please, hold me, I- I can't-" Janus's voice came out absolutely pathetic, broken up in sobs and small and trembling, but Remus paid it no mind. He quickly scooped up Janus in his arms, and Janus held onto him for dear life, like he'll be swept away if he doesn't. He cries so hard he's almost heaving, shaking like a leaf in Remus's strong, tattooed arms.

Oh, Remus, make it go away, He thought, and then cried harder because what a childish thing to think.

"Shh, shh, you're alright, I've got you. Can you breathe with me, darling? In and out, you're okay," Remus's voice was calm and soothing, the panic deliberately gone from his voice, probably to not make him feel worse. He breathed in deeply, over exaggerating his breaths so that Janus could follow along.

Janus tried to follow the rhythm, hiccupping through his tears. He stumbled a few times, and it took a bit, but he eventually was able to settle his breathing. His tears had started to slow, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly childish.

He just had a breakdown over something so stupid. It's not like he's the only one affected by covid, they're in a fucking pandemic, and he has no right to panic when he's not even sick. He's fine.

Janus and Remus had only been together for a few months, so Remus hadn't seen this side of Janus yet. This was sure to make him leave. Fuck, he's so stupid.

"There you are, baby," Remus crooned with a soothing voice, and Janus flushed despite himself. Remus wiped away one of his lingering tears, his palm cupping Janus's cheek, and Janus leaned into the warmth, suddenly exhausted. He felt boneless and hollowed out inside of Remus's arms, like his limbs were made of lead.

"I'm sorry," Janus croaked, and Remus was shushing him before he could get more words out.

"No, shut up, you're not allowed to apologize for having a panic attack. You have nothing to apologize for." Remus was strong and steady, and Janus opened his eyes that he didn't mean to close. For some reason, he wanted to deny that what just happened was a panic attack. "You're okay, love, we're okay."

Janus gave a small laugh in spite of himself, and Remus huffed, indignant. "What?"

"Nothing, just- you use a l- lot more cutesy nicknames when you're calming me down." Janus noted, and Remus puffed up like a peacock, but he was smiling.

"Would you rather I use my normal names? J-anus? Two Dicks? Hot ass? Da-"

Janus cut him off with laughter and a smack to the arm, "Shut up, you awful man, that wasn't an invitation-"

Remus was laughing too, grin blinding. When they both stopped laughing, they just sat there for a while in comfortable silence. Remus traced the vitiligo patches on Janus's back through the clothes (Janus flushed at the fact that Remus just knew where they were) and Janus traced the tattoos on Remus's brown skin.

After several long, quiet moments, Remus's quiet voice broke the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Instantly, Janus went tense, before shaking his head no. He couldn't explain it without sounding stupid, and he didn't want Remus to leave.

Besides, there was nothing Remus could truly say that he hasn't heard before.

Nothing will make it go away.

Remus nodded, content with not pushing. "Well, I say we move the cuddling to the bed and not the floor, how does that sound?"

Before Janus could respond, Remus just scooped him up, effortlessly in the air. Janus squeaked and held onto Remus before Remus just dumped him down unceremoniously onto the bed, bouncing a little on the springs.

Remus laid down on his back, and Janus immediately crawled to him and curled up next to him, laying his head on Remus's chest and Remus wrapping an arm around him.

"Nap time," Janus mumbled into Remus's shirt. Janus felt more than heard him chuckle.

"Well, if the king says it's nap time, then I have no choice but to obey." Janus swatted at him lazily, and he couldn't see it, but he bet Remus grinned. Remus laid a quick kiss to his temple and his heart swelled.

The worry still pricked in the back of Janus's mind. He was sure that later, he was going to freak out over this moment, that the sudden contact made him contract an illness.

But right now, at this moment, he's fine. He's with his boyfriend, and his other friends and his brother are in the house somewhere too, no doubt worried about Janus. They're all vaccinated, healthy, and safe.

I'm okay, he thought, the thought not panic induced this time, and fell asleep next to Remus, and dreamt of nothing but warmth.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #janus sanders #janus sanders angst #tw covid #tw hypochondria #dukeceit #fanfic #janus sanders fanfic

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tlhrfanfic · 3 years

Text

[Late] Thus With a Kiss I Die

Title: Thus With a Kiss I Die Ship: Late (Nate/Procrastination&Logan) Warnings: Idiot Gays, Kissing, Making Out, Disaster Gays, One Brain cell shared. Cuuuute. Words: 12,444 Request: So this was a Kiss AU list request that was requested by @romantichopelessly for a present for getting lots of stuff done with her Botwot AU: 36. we can never be together.

Summary: Logan was just cast as Juliet in the school play. He is not thrilled. Then he finds out that his crush Nate is Romeo. He's doomed.

Read on AO3

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Logan couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t that he couldn’t believe that a senior class in an all-boys boarding school was doing a play. No, that was statistically likely, all things considered.

What he couldn’t believe, however, was that the school had chosen Romeo and Juliet as the play for the senior class that year.

Why?

They weren’t even changing the genders of the female characters to appear pro-gay or any of the less than moral types of things private institutions did to bring in donators.

“Maybe our parents just thought they’d get a kick out of some of their kids dressing up in drag and talking falsetto.” Logan snorted and glanced at his best friend.

Virgil sighed.

“I’m soooo glad I got the nurse. Yes! No one cares about that old hag’s lines. Smooth sailing.”

Logan glared.

Virgil cleared his throat, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, and shrugged.

“Yeah… tough luck you got the lead.”

Logan laughed at that and shook his head.

“Thank you.”

Virgil raised a brow. “For what?”

“Most people have been congratulating me.”

Virgil snorted. “Oh, yeah. Well, any time dude.”

Logan sighed and nodded.

“So uh… have you talked with him yet?”

Logan, who currently had his face in his hands, could hear the slight smirk in Virgil’s carefully phrased question. He suddenly longed to glare daggers at his friend but, due to all the excitement, was too exhausted to bother. Definitely not his excitement, but it was felt nonetheless.

“I don’t have any idea to whom you would be referring to Virgil.”

Logan attempted to silence the other with a look but his gamble failed.

Virgil’s smirk widened. “Oh you don’t, do you?”

Logan mustered up the energy to actually glare daggers his way, but there still wasn’t much fire behind it. He sighed.

“What am I going to do?” he asked, a slight whine to his words that he generally avoided.

Virgil sighed as well. “Why are you asking me?”

Logan rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“One of us is actually in a romantic relationship and it is not me.”

Virgil blushed and shrugged.

“It’s all still very new though so I don’t know what you expect from me here, Lo.”

“How do I get him to like me?”

“Dude, you’ve liked that guy since we started high school. If anyone knows how to get him to like you, it’s you.”

Logan groaned.

“Has Patton been having you listen to those self-growth tapes again?”

Virgil shrugged but smiled softly and, for a moment, Logan smiled as well. He was very pleased to see his friend so happy. “They’re really not so bad.”

“Good to know.”

Logan sighed.

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

Logan looked up at Virgil as if he’d grown an extra head.

“Right. Tell Nate Lassus, whom most of those students who identify as gay or bisexual and/or pan want, that I’ve had a crush on him for three years? Someone who I should not even want because truly, what do we have in common?”

“You mean aside from the fact that you guys like each other and want to kiss each other and make out and do I need to keep going?”

“That does not promote a healthy relationship, Virgil.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Then you get to know him and I am certain there is something you guys have in common.”

“Also, he does not like me. Don’t think I didn’t hear that.”

“He does, and I hoped you would.” Virgil stuck out his tongue.

Logan bit his tongue to keep from snapping at his friend. Virgil had been on this whole theory that Nate liked him as well. Which was absolutely absurd and held no merit whatsoever despite Virgil and Patton’s so-called evidence.

“Patton said he looked excited when you were chosen for Juliet. Even looked your way, hoping you were looking at him.”

Logan looked up at Virgil. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope but reality sunk in.

“This is Nate Lassus we are talking about, Virgil. He’s just excited to get to kiss a guy on stage.”

Virgil groaned but dropped the subject. Logan knew that wouldn’t be the last of it, however, he was happy for the break.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate watched as his two best friends fooled around with some of the prop swords backstage. He was currently working on some backgrounds, hammering some pre-cut wood boards that would be used as trees or perhaps castle props or any number of things.

He didn’t do the whole painting bit, but he could definitely manage hammering support pieces of wood to the backdrops.

As he worked, Nate thought back to the assembly when they were informed that a play would be put on and the parts that they would perform. When he had heard his name first, announced along with the name of the play’s male lead, his only thought had been a half-hearted wish.

If only Logan could be my Juliet… he’d thought and then—as if his thoughts had actually held any power at all—Logan’s name had been called and Juliet’s had followed. Nate could only glance at Logan, hoping to see what the other’s reaction had been. Unfortunately, it had looked like… well, not disgust, which was good… but definitely shock and dread. Nate had tried to tell himself that the looks were more about the role he’d been given and had nothing to do with himself.

It felt like a lie, but it made Nate feel better all the same.

“Take that, heathen,” Janus’s crisp voice broke through his thoughts. He glanced up from his spot on the floor as he shifted to the next set of backdrops and supports.

“Never, you scallywag bitch!” Remus cackled and rushed at Janus, the pair’s swords clacked with every strike.

Where Janus actually had had fencing lessons and moved with finesse and experience, Remus struck down with pure force and nothing else. With Janus’s slight frame—at five-foot-four—it would seem that Remus’s strategy could gain him the upper hand. However, it was the smaller teen’s quick and fluid footwork that secured his victory.

As Nate had guessed, Remus’s wood sword was soon sailing across the room, clacking onto the tiled floor. Remus cackled, rather than growing angry, and rushed to get the wooden sword. With the more chaotic of his friends distracted, Janus turned to Nate while continuing to run through different fencing patterns.

Sharp eyes met Nate’s, one a deep brown and the other a warm gold. He said nothing, knowing that whatever it was his friend wanted to say, he would get to it when he was ready and not a moment sooner. Still, as the moments ticked on, Nate wished he would just get on with it already.

“Sooo… Logan Wright is your Juliet… now why does this seem so fitting.… Oh right, because you complete morons are in love with each other. Maybe even the teachers and staff know it and this is the whole damn school’s way of saying ‘Now Kiss’.”

Nate rolled his eyes. He tried to stay chipper and upbeat but now that it was spoken, he could no longer ignore the siren call of his crush as a topic.

“Jan… he didn’t even look at me… what if…”

“Hopeless…”

“Jan, I’m serious here.”

“And so am I, Nate.”

Remus returned.

“How do you know Logan likes him anyway, babe?”

Janus looked at his boyfriend and shrugged.

“I can’t really say how… just trust me on this. My instincts are solid when it comes to people’s love lives.”

Nate wanted to argue but, since Janus was his best friend from grade school, he already knew it was pointless. Not to mention, Janus had walked into the school freshman year, spotted Remus, and pointed him out to Nate.

“That guy is strange and quite possibly deranged. And I’m not sure how I know this, but we are most definitely going to date.”

Nate had snorted and moved on. Then it had happened in Junior year, long after Janus had forgotten about the fateful statement he had made two years before. So he might have been right back then, but Nate really didn't want to have to wait two years like the other had to find out if his best friend’s prediction today would come true.

“You really should tell ol’ Logan how you feel, dude.” Remus shrugged, grinning that almost maniacal grin of his. Nate couldn’t help but grin back.

Still, his friends obviously didn’t get it.

If Logan had any feelings, he would have looked his way at the assembly when he’d realized it was Nate who he’d be kissing.

Oh, fuck. That’s right.

Not only was it that Logan would be kissing him…

Nate would get to kiss Logan.

“And this look is Nate now realizing that not only does he get to share the lead with his crush, but he also gets to kiss said crush on stage in front of everybody.” Janus murmured with a side glance at his boyfriend. Remus snickered.

Nate threw them the double bird and kicked them out.

Getting back to work, Nate put all thoughts of crushes and kisses out of his mind.

»»————　🕶️　————««

Logan almost didn’t make it to the meeting with Mr. Thomas Sanders, the drama teacher who was putting the show on, and Nate. He was just going to continue on with his normal routine and that would be that. They would realize he just wasn’t going to do it and they would get someone else.

Then he realized that part of him wanted to go. Was it curiosity? Or was it the siren call of having a valid reason to spend more time with Nate?

Logan blinked as he looked around, finding himself already headed in the direction of the theater.

It took a lot less time than he hoped to reach the two large oak doors, opening one of them and slipping inside. He was not surprised to see Mr. Sanders’s bright, welcoming smile. He was also not surprised to see that Nate was not there.

Nate had a habit of running late… all the time.

Something that would annoy him in anyone else, but with Nate, it somehow just worked.

“Logan! Thank you for being here,” Mr. Sanders said, still smiling brightly. “Nate should be here soon.”

Logan nodded, ignoring the heat rising up the back of his neck.

He jumped a moment later as the oak door opened once more, his head jerking in that direction.

In walked Nate, looking just as attractive as he always did. It was because he was having what Roman, Patton’s friend, would call a ‘swoon moment’ that Logan didn’t notice it at first, but Nate’s gaze was on him from the moment he walked in the door.

Pretending that his blush was not currently seeping into his cheeks, Logan cleared his throat and turned in Nate’s direction. Standing up straight, Logan nodded at the other in greeting. While they weren’t friends, they had shared a number of classes and projects and school trips over the years. They’d talked but only in a capacity regarding those things.

None of which were personal or intimate.

Logan withheld a sigh, then remembered he should say something.

“Salutations, Nathan.”

“Hey yourself, Logan. Hey, Mr. S.”

Nate joined them and Mr. Sanders led them to the front row of seats. He had three padded fold out chairs, one in front of the other two. Logan took one of them and Nate took the other. Ignoring how close he was to Nate at that very moment, Logan focused instead on Mr. Sanders.

The drama teacher took the chair in front of them and beamed at them both.

“Thank you both for coming. I just wanted to take a moment and congratulate you both on getting the roles, even if you may not have wanted them.”

Mr. Sanders who smiled apologetically.

“I had suggested we hold auditions and I was overruled.”

Logan shrugged, a habit he had picked up from Virgil.

“It can’t be helped now and it’s not for any major event. I mean, I may suffer from making an absolute mockery of myself but… I have my own reasons for doing it, I suppose.”

“Oh really? Do tell,” Nate pressed, flashing an easy grin.

Logan flushed. He couldn’t believe he had just said what he’d said. He had felt surprisingly calm in the moment though he supposed that was just the effect Mr. Sanders had on people.

Effective for an instructor teaching performing arts.

“It’s just… I’m a team player. We all have to do this. I cannot be selfish. I’d also… well, I’d kind of like to challenge myself too, I suppose.”

And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Nate was playing Romeo and Logan would get to kiss him.

Logan’s heart rate increased and his eyes fell to Nate’s mouth before quickly looking away.

“Huh. Well… that’s epic. Good for you, dude.”

Logan nodded.

“Nate’s right. That is very epic!” Mr. Sanders agreed.

He clapped his hands.

“Alright, I know I don’t have to tell you two that Romeo and Juliet are the two most important characters in the play. Obviously, without them, the play would not exist. But, I want you guys to forget about that.”

Logan’s confusion must have shown on his face because Mr. Sanders elaborated. “You are to think of them as people. Think of them as your friends. Or better yet, yourselves. I want you to get into their minds and think about why they do the things they do in the way they do them.”

He stood up, pacing back and forth as he explained, glancing at them every so often. He then returned to them, taking the chair once more.

“By doing that, you open them up in an intimate way that allows you to become them. Does all of that make sense?”

He looked at Logan first before glancing at Nate.

Logan considered the words. He wasn’t an actor. That was Roman.

Which reminded him to make a mental note to speak with Roman after this. Unfortunately, while that would help future him, it did not help him now.

“I suppose… it’s… well, if we don’t feel what they are feeling…” Logan was grasping at straws. He was hands down the worst choice for the character of Juliet he had ever seen.

Nate leaned toward Logan. It was subtle but Logan, constantly aware of his surroundings, noticed. Strangely, it was comforting.

“Let me take a stab.”

“Go ahead, Nate.” Mr. Sanders said with a grin, pleased with the other’s enthusiasm.

“It’s because we can’t just learn the lines and do what the movements and motions say. Anyone can do that, but in order to sell what we are doing, we have to understand the character’s struggles to better perform them on the stage. By becoming the characters, we help the audience experience what they were feeling and thinking.”

“Very good Nate! Exactly.”

Logan glanced at Nate and smiled his appreciation. Nate shrugged.

And winked.

Logan blushed and turned his attention back to Mr. Sanders who was rising to head to his bag. He pulled out what appeared to be papers and two boxes and headed back to them. Handing each boy a stapled document, he continued to talk.

“These are your scripts. Feel free to highlight, take notes, change directions, and—although anything you change must be approved by me—I am always open to and strongly urge suggestions.” He then handed them each a box of two highlighters. “Rehearsals will start tomorrow after school. They will run for an hour and a half during weekdays for the next four weeks. The three weeks after that will be two and a half hour practices and the week after that is show week.”

He glanced at them both.

“Any questions?”

Logan, afraid to speak, shook his head. He held his script and highlighters close, ready to bolt at the first opportunity. Nate must have agreed in some fashion because Mr. Sanders continued on.

“One last suggestion. You are expected to run your lines outside of rehearsals. It’s the only way to memorize the lines. However, you are not expected to run lines together. I do want to strongly urge that you do. Find a nice quiet place to run the scenes you guys have together. You both already seem pretty comfortable around each other. That will help! Especially when it comes to practicing the kiss.”

He glanced at Logan. “You do not have to practice the kiss but you will want to. Trust me. It’s not easy to kiss strangers on stage.” He shuddered and Logan had to wonder at his experience with such things. Perhaps it was better not to ask.

He ignored his flaming cheeks and cleared his throat.

“Thank you for all the suggestions and insight, Mr. Sanders, but if that is all, I really must go.”

“Yes, of course. You are both good to go and I look forward to seeing you at rehearsals.”

Logan took off and didn’t look back.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he was able to keep his disappointment and irritation off his face until he thanked Mr. Sanders and left.

So… that was it then.

Logan didn’t like him and was actually disgusted by the idea of not only kissing him but practicing kissing him too.

He sighed as he ignored the urge to hit the wall. Even if it would help him let out his frustration, he’d have a broken hand and that would just do no one any good.

Deciding to put the feelings into doing something useful, Nate made his way to the door that led backstage and headed in. Making his way past the dressing rooms and costume closets, Nate reached the main backstage floor, where he found Janus.

His friend was busy working, sketching backgrounds onto the backdrops that had already been assembled. Janus didn’t even bother looking up.

“Nice of you to join me, Nate.”

Nate had no idea how he always knew it was him without looking, but at this point, he couldn’t be bothered to ask. Janus would likely take it to his grave anyway.

“Hey, dude.” Nate sighed.

Janus immediately looked up from what he was doing, his eyes narrowing.

“What happened?”

Nate blinked, a shiver at the dangerous look in those two toned eyes running down his back. Not for the first time, he was extremely happy that Janus was his friend rather than an enemy.

“Nothing… exactly?”

“Darling, it’s my job to be vague and interesting. Yours is to be strong and mmm… a little himbo-esque. Now, I’m going to ask you again. What happened?”

Nate sighed and explained what had happened in the meeting and Logan’s sudden rush out the doors at the end. Janus kept the same unreadable expression on his face throughout the story and when Nate finished, he sighed.

Nate frowned.

“What?”

“Nate… darling… I don’t mean to sound harsh when I say this… who the hell am I kidding, yes I do. Especially since I know you can take it. Think about what you just told me and then think about who it is you’re talking about…”

“Logan… yeah, so what?”

Janus tutted.

“Okay… I see I am going to have to spell this out for you, hon. In the years that we have attended this school with Logan, have you ever seen him date? Ever see him hold hands with anyone?” He watched Nate closely. Nate, not sure where this was going, just listened. “Ever see him hug anyone… well, I suppose he gets hugs from Patton but that definitely doesn’t count. Everyone gets hugs from Patton. But anyway… ever see him in any scenario like those I mentioned?”

Nate didn’t really need to think about it. He had liked Logan for so long, it was as if his presence was a magnet for Nate’s gaze.

“No… but I don’t really see how…”

“So gorgeous… so sweet… but so, so dumb.”

Nate might have felt offended but the other said the insult with such fondness it almost felt like the other compliments he’d offered.

“Janus, just get to the point.”

“Very well. Of course Logan ran out of there at the thought of practicing kissing you… he’s never been kissed, Nate.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

Janus smirked and stood up, coming to stand in front of him. Nate looked down at him and sighed.

“I… never even considered… huh… okay… so I should definitely go find him then?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

Janus winked. Nate grinned at the other and nodded at the sketch.

“Nice trees, by the way. I think that’s what they are—”

“Fuck you,” Janus said but grinned.

“You wish.”

“Don’t I just.”

Nate chuckled and pointed at the hall that led to the exit with his thumb.

“I’ve got a cute nerd to find. Catch you later.”

“Oh, have you learned how to catch things now?”

Nate, who totally could not catch anything thrown his way, gasped.

“Low blow, my friend.”

“It’s how you know I care. Now, go find Logan. Also, maybe consider telling him how you feel… just a thought. No pressure.”

“Yeah… we’ll see. Later.”

“Go get him, darling.”

Nate snorted but headed out for the dorms.

»»————　🕶️　————««

Logan reached the dorm room that he shared with Virgil and quickly buried himself in the thing that made him feel safest: homework.

He was so lost in his homework that he almost didn’t hear the knock on the door. It wasn’t odd to have someone knock on his door, so Logan didn’t give it much thought. It was likely Patton looking for Virgil or something. Patton often forgot that his cell phone would be a much more efficient solution to finding his boyfriend.

Then again, also knowing Patton pretty well by now, it was just as likely he was checking up on Logan. That boy did wear his heart on his sleeve and would want to help if he perceived someone was upset in any way.

Therefore, when he went to open his door, it was with great surprise, and uncalled for embarrassment, he found Nate on the other side.

“So… hey.”

“... Hi.”

Logan did not miss how Nate glanced into his dorm before looking at him once more.

“I was wondering if you… uh… if you had a moment.”

Logan shifted slightly but nodded. When he said nothing, Nate continued.

“Do you think we can maybe take this inside?”

“You wish to be invited into my dorm room?”

Nate chuckled softly. Logan frowned. It almost sounded fond but that made no sense. Logan was barely a blip on Nate’s radar. There was no reason for him to be fond of anything that had to do with Logan.

Deciding it was obviously projections of his own feelings—why did he have them again?—Logan pushed any thoughts and inquiries on fondness from his mind.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you.”

Logan considered before nodding, opening the door and stepping away to let Nate pass. He closed the door behind him, trying to ignore the twisting of his insides from having his crush in his room.

Not sure what to do with himself, Logan returned to his desk and leaned against it, watching Nate and ignoring the heat rising up the back of his neck.

“Alright… we’re inside. What did you wish to speak to me about?”

Nate, who had been checking out the room, seemed to focus on Logan’s side.

Interesting.

He grinned at Logan now and crossed from the book shelf he had been perusing to stand in front of him.

“Yeah, so… I just wanted to talk about the play…”

Logan sighed.

“Obviously. There is no other reason that could have brought you here. I know we don’t talk too much and we aren’t friends so there would be no reason to hang out, but surely, after years of school with me, you would know that I am pretty observant.”

Nate chuckled that same fond laugh again. The sound had heat slipping into Logan’s cheeks and he cleared his throat.

“What about the play, Nathan?”

Nate sighed. “Janus told me you’ve uh… you’ve never been kissed…”

Oh.

Right, the kiss in the play.

Even though this was obviously about kissing each other in the play, Logan couldn’t get past the fact that he would have to kiss Nate. If it had been anyone else, he was certain he could manage. But with Nate…

What if he was horrible? What if Nate told everyone?

No… Nathan Lasses could be a dick but to most people, he was kind and fair and nice. Besides, in Logan’s humble opinion, Remy—Nate’s twin—was much worse.

Nate wouldn’t tell anyone. Knowing Nate, he’d offer to help him practice and—

Suddenly it clicked. He knew exactly why Nate was there.

“Ah. You wish to practice the kiss,” he said simply.

Nate’s eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before the look was replaced with something else. Something softer.

Do not even think of that word, Logan, or so help me.

“Correct, as always, scholar.”

Logan blinked. Huh, a nickname.

As far as Logan had been informed by Patton, nicknames were things people gave to other people they really liked and wanted to be friends with.

Logan held back a sigh.

Friendship… well, I suppose if that’s what he wants from me… it would be selfish of me to refuse.

Ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he forced a smile.

“That… that would be okay with me…” Logan said.

This was not how he wanted his first kiss—especially not with Nate—but as there was no hope for more, it would be pointless to hold out on the impossibility that there ever would be.

Besides, it was better this way. He was far too busy for silly things like holding hands, little whispers spoken between kisses, flirting, cuddling. He wasn’t big on those things anyway. Even if he would have liked to try… with Nate.

“Wait, really? I honestly thought I was going to have to like talk you into it or something.”

Logan shook his head and held up a hand.

“Not at all. Janus, though I’d love to know who his source was, is correct. I’ve never kissed or been kissed. This is an adequate solution. Completely logical.”

Nate frowned and Logan hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

Nate had a look on his face that was hard for Logan to read. It was reserved but there was something else too. Before Logan could figure out what it could be, Nate was suddenly grinning and clapping. It was as if nothing had happened but there was still a weird charge in the air.

Or maybe Logan was reading too much into the situation.

“Nothing’s wrong, dude. Let’s get started.”

Logan’s eyes widened at that.

“Now?”

He was pained to admit to himself that he might have squeaked the word, but if any one else asked, he would take it to his grave.

Nate snickered.

“Aww, getting shy? Cute.”

Logan blushed at that and, regretfully, flailed his embarrassment.

“I’m not cute!”

“I mean, of course you don’t find yourself attractive, scholar, but you never know. Some people might.”

“Oh, yes, and someday Patton will stop hanging out with cats even though he’s pretty severely allergic.”

“Haha, yeah right.”

“Exactly.”

It seemed to hit Nate what Logan had meant and suddenly the taller teen was closing the remaining distance between them.

“I’m serious, Logan.” He looked it too. His dark brown eyes locked with Logan’s and he smiled the same smile from earlier. The one that Logan was positive he was projecting because it made zero sense for Nate to smile at him like that unless…

No Logan. You already ran the probability of a guy like him liking a guy like you. He doesn’t like you in the same way you like him.

“Hey, Logan…” Nate said, voice lower. Softer.

Logan looked up, unsure of when he looked away. His grey eyes met brown once more and suddenly the atmosphere changed.

He could no longer hear the world outside his dorm room and time felt slower. He wasn’t sure what was happening and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Clearing his throat, he swallowed.

“Yes, Nathan…” he whispered.

Why was he whispering?

“Can I kiss you?”

Logan swallowed again but nodded.

Nate smiled and Logan was shocked again to find it seemed kind of… disappointed. Sad, even. Then Nate was closing his eyes and Logan, completely out of his element, did the same.

The first contact was soft… almost as if it hadn’t been there at all. Logan found himself leaning into it and his lips found Nate’s. He gasped and pulled away, bringing a hand to his mouth.

“Very good, for your first kiss,” Nate said, grinning teasingly. Logan blushed.

“Shut up.”

“No, no. None of that. I’m serious. You did good.”

“Right.”

Logan had no reason to believe him, of course, but it was nice to hear. Then again, unlike Logan, Nate had kissed many people. Maybe he knew what he was talking about. He cleared his throat.

“Should we… keep practicing?”

Nate seemed surprised by the question but laughed and nodded.

“We absolutely should keep practicing. Definitely should. One hundred percent.”

Logan rolled his eyes but snorted.

“Very well. Kiss me again.”

Nate smirked.

“Yes, sir.”

With that, he placed his hands on Logan’s hips and tugged him against his body, leaning down to kiss him deeply on the mouth.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate couldn’t help the pleased sound that escaped him as he kissed Logan deeply. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed, lips moving against Logan’s.

Never in all his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get the chance to kiss Logan. Now that he had, however, he felt as if the universe was laughing in his face.

Like, yeah you get to kiss him but you ain’t never gonna have him. Not how you so desperately desire.

Fuck the universe.

If he couldn’t find the words to tell Logan…

If he couldn’t trust himself to say the right things…

Well, he’d just have to tell him through his kisses.

He could do that.

Logan’s arms wrapped around him and Nate took that as all the permission he needed to hold Logan closer. He moved one hand to the small of Logan’s back as his other hand came up to frame the intelligent teen’s face.

Nate was the one who had to pull away, inhaling sharply as he tried to catch his breath and chuckling as Logan chased after his retreating mouth.

“So…” Nate asked, the word low and still a little breathless. “How was that?”

Logan just blinked up at Nate. “H-huh, what, I’m sorry?”

Nate laughed deeply at that and, before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly leaned down to kiss the other’s forehead.

“Cute…” he said, voice low and fond.

Logan blushed but said nothing. Silence fell between them, neither knowing what to say or what to do. Logan seemed to want to say something—maybe ask something—but it was clear to Nate that he was nervous. Nate wished he could think of just the right thing to say that would reassure the other that he wasn’t ever going to judge him.

If he only knew how much I care…

Then maybe you should tell him. That voice sounded far more like Janus’s than it did Nate’s.

Yeah right.

Nate smiled down at Logan and was about to ask him if it would be okay if they practiced again tomorrow but in the next moment Logan was pressing closer and kissing him. Having absolutely no problem with this change in plans, Nate wrapped both arms tight around Logan, embracing him completely as he kissed back hungrily.

It was Logan’s turn to make pleased sorts of sounds, the other teen obviously getting lost in the feelings and sensations. That was all well and good, of course, but the sounds did things to Nate and if he allowed those sounds to keep doing those things to him, well…

He wouldn’t need words to tell Logan how he felt because Logan would be able to feel it.

Pulling away quickly, Nate worked hard to catch his breath. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

“Okay! So, I think this is a great place to stop. We can totally practice some more tomorrow, if you’re okay with that—”

“Yes.” Logan said it so quickly he seemed to surprise even himself.

Nate’s brows rose as Logan cleared his throat and spoke up again, more reserved.

“I mean, that would be agreeable.”

Nate smirked at that.

“Great. Same time after classes? Back here?”

Logan nodded but then stopped.

“Yes… but can we go to your room? I just… if Virgil’s here I’m not going to be able to… you know… it’ll be too embarrassing.”

“You do realize that we are going to be kissing in front of a whole lot more than just one student, right?”

Logan nodded, pulling off his glasses. He pulled out a little handkerchief, wiping gently at the lenses.

“Of course… but that’s a little different. We’ll be on stage and the audience will mostly be in shadow. Not to mention, the audience will be one collective group. I won’t know where my friends are sitting—well, most of them will be in the play but that is beside the point—and so I won’t see them. If it were just Virgil there though… it just seems too…”

“Intimate,” Nate asked, hopeful.

Logan considered the word and finally nodded.

“Yes, exactly. Too intimate.”

“Well, I mean I have a roommate too, so I’m not sure I can promise Janus won’t be there.”

That was a bold face lie. He could and would make sure Janus would not be there.

He grinned. “But if that’s cool with you, then I am more than happy to sacrifice my room for our kissing practices.”

Logan blushed but smiled gently, nodding.

“Thank you.”

Nate nodded.

He glanced at the door and then back at Logan.

“So… I have to be honest… kissing you is kinda fun…”

That’s the understatement of the century.

Still, he didn’t want to come on too strong and scare the other. The blush this pulled from Logan also made the light confession so very worth it.

“Mind if I take one for the road?”

Logan’s eyes brightened and Nate watched as the other’s eyes darted to Nate’s mouth and back while licking his lips. He nodded slowly.

“I would not be opposed.”

“Good.”

Nate moved in close once more, hands on Logan’s hips as he guided him in closer. His brown eyes met gray and he grinned warmly.

“Cute,” he said as the other blushed a little deeper.

Before Logan could argue his point, Nate closed his eyes and kissed Logan hard. Logan gasped into the kiss, perhaps surprised by the sudden intensity. Nate took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Logan’s mouth, exploring it and caressing Logan’s tongue with his own.

Logan let out an almost whimpering sound and Nate groaned in response. It was Logan who ended the kiss this time and Nate couldn’t deny that he had definitely chased after his mouth. Logan was panting and pulled out of Nate’s hold, the taller teen letting him.

“Wow…” Logan breathed, bringing his fingers to press at kiss swollen lips.

“Yeah,” Nate agreed, catching his own breath. Silence fell between them again but it was almost comfortable this time. Nate grinned.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in class and kissing practice after.”

Logan nodded. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Nate moved close once more and kissed the top of his head.

“See you tomorrow, scholar.”

“See you tomorrow, Nathan.”

Nate had the walk back to his own dorm to consider everything that had just happened. He couldn’t believe how well Logan had taken to kissing him. Then again, Nate had it so bad even if Logan couldn’t kiss, he’d still enjoy it… but there was also the fact that Logan was intelligent and smart and capable and it was no surprise at all that he had picked up kissing just as well as any other subject or skill.

But Logan had enjoyed it… and had wanted to keep doing it.

Just like that, hope returned in Nate’s heart.

Maybe, just maybe, his hopeless crush on Logan Wright wasn’t so hopeless after all.

»»————　🕶️　————««

Logan continued to press his fingers against his lips throughout the night. He did it so much that it almost became something of a fixation. He would remember the feeling of Nate’s lips pressed against his own and brush against his own lips, still sore from all the kissing.

He would then smile and sigh as his insides fluttered until he reminded himself that the kissing was just Nate being a good friend and one would assume a good actor. Logan was pretty certain that Roman went on often about something he called ‘method acting’.

His and Nate’s kissing was simply that.

Logan longed for so much more.

Still, Nate had obviously enjoyed kissing him so maybe this kissing practice would prove to be a good thing.

Logan brought his hand up to his lips once more, smiling softly as he brushed against them idly.

It was at that moment the door opened and Virgil shuffled in, tossing his bag by the little couch in the middle of the room. He collapsed onto it, only then glancing Logan’s way.

Logan, still lost in the memory of kissing Nate, had registered Virgil’s arrival but said nothing, still sliding his fingers gently across his lips.

“Hello~ Earth to Logan? Dude, what’s going on with you?”

Logan blinked and looked at Virgil.

“Oh, hey there, Virgil. Did you hang out with Patton?”

Virgil nodded before shaking his head.

“Nope. We’re talking about you… you’re acting very… uh… Roman-y and Patton-y today.”

Logan blushed because what that meant was that he was being very feelings-y. Logan usually was not a very feelings-y person. His best friend knew this well.

There were, however, some things he was not yet aware of.

“I kissed Nate today!” Logan said. Then he added, as an afterthought, “a lot.”

Virgil’s eyes widened almost comically.

“You did what? When?”

“While you were out…”

“So, what? Did he ask you out? Are you two dating? Do I have to give him the best friend talk where I threaten his life if he hurts you?”

Logan’s brows rose and he stared at Virgil waiting for him to end his tirade. He didn’t respond until Virgil grinned sheepishly and gestured in a go-right-ahead sort of manner.

“Okay, first… you have the wrong impression but, considering I blurted out that I kissed him with no other context, that’s not your fault. He sought me out here and I realized that he was offering to practice with me and well… I accepted.”

“So…” Virgil bit his lip. “Look, I know when we’re younger and they tell you your first kiss is a big deal and all and it’s best with someone you really like and that likes you too but… it’s not like it is on tv.”

Logan shrugged and smiled at Virgil. He knew it wasn’t a fully happy smile, but honestly, Virgil was a good friend. He tried his very best to help Logan any time he needed to feel better.

“So… even though you have to kiss him in the play when doesn’t like you—which, I’m still positive he does, that’s not the point here—how was it?”

Logan laughed as he watched Virgil shift to the edge of the couch, leaning forward in Logan’s direction, obviously invested in whatever it was Logan would say next.

The intelligent teen blushed but smiled slowly, biting his lip.

“It was so much better than I could ever imagine.”

Virgil chuckled at that and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel that. Remember when we were younger and we were grossed out by even the thought.”

Logan nodded. In fact, until that first kiss, Logan had still very much thought that. But now…

“I want to kiss him again.”

Virgil laughed again.

“Damn, L.”

Logan blushed. “Shut up.”

Virgil snorted. “Nope. Never. Besides, it's my job to keep you on your toes.”

Logan shook his head. Idly, he brought his hand up to brush at his lips again.

“I’m a little worried though… it’s obvious that you like kissing him so much because of your feelings for him, L.”

Logan nodded. He too had come to the conclusion.

“Okay… maybe don’t have so many practices?”

Logan considered and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, maybe.”

Virgil seemed happy to have helped and went off to shuffle in his backpack for his homework. Logan sighed.

Virgil had a point. A very valid and logical point.

Unfortunately, Logan was not sure how well he would be able to resist now that he’d had just a taste of what could never be.

Pushing the problem out of his mind, Logan turned his attention back to the problems that were within his ability to solve.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate honestly felt like he was floating as he walked through the dorms, heading for his own room. He headed inside, making his way to his bed and tossed himself onto it. As he looked up at the ceiling, he brought a hand to his mouth and slid his fingers against his lower lip.

A smile slowly slipped onto his face as he pulled his hand away and bit his lip. He couldn’t believe how readily Logan had agreed to ‘kiss practice’. He had even agreed to continue it.

Nate found himself torn.

As much as he had so very loved kissing the intelligent teen, he also knew that he was only setting himself up for heartbreak. The play—and so the kissing—would come to an end and things would go back to the way they had been.

Still, Nate didn’t see why that meant he couldn’t enjoy it while he had the chance. If it had never been for the powers-that-be choosing himself and Logan for Romeo and Juliet, he would never have gotten the chance to feel what it was like to kiss the boy he had liked for so long.

The door opened and Nate, a soft, warm smile on his face and insides toasty, looked up to meet Janus’s gaze. Janus, apparently noting the love-sick look on his face, sighed and tugged Remus in by their linked hands before closing the door.

“I take it from the revolting look on your face that you talked to Logan?” Nate noted how eager the other sounded.

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, yeah… yeah, we talked a bit…”

Nate looked away as Janus narrowed his eyes.

“And…?”

“Ah, and nothing… I just told him I completely understood he was nervous.”

“Did you tell him how you feel, Nate?”

Nate had the decency to look sheepish.

“Not… exactly…”

Janus gave him the look that meant he should continue.

“But he was very responsive to my kisses.”

Janus’s eyes widened and Nate felt a rush of pride at causing such a rare phenomenon. It was not often that one surprised Janus Trompeur.

“You kissed him?”

Nate could hear the excitement in his voice. Not wanting a misunderstanding, Nate cleared his throat.

“Yeah… I told him it was understandable he was nervous since he’d never been kissed and he came to the conclusion that I was offering to practice with him and so he agreed and we kissed… a lot… and it was so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

Janus crossed his arms. “Uh huh.”

“You should have seen Logan too… I’ve… I’ve never seen him like that before… I can safely guarantee it was enjoyed by both parties. He’s also agreed to continue. We’ll have another practice tomorrow.”

He glanced up at Janus, hoping he would see where he was going with this.

The other sighed and winced.

“Oh, Nate… you beautiful, dumb idiot… you’re going to try to kiss him in love with you, aren’t you.”

Nate flashed a grin.

“I’m going to kiss him in love with me, Janus!”

Janus sighed, bringing a hand up to palm his face before he shook his head.

“Oh, darling. That’s not going to work if you don’t tell him how you feel.”

Nate sighed.

“Yeah, you should lick his juicy butthole as well!”

Janus and Nate both glared at Remus, who just cackled and continued to listen.

“Nate…”

Nate threw up his hands in frustration.

“Okay, okay! Damn it, I know, Janus. I know.”

Janus smiled and nodded.

“Very good… and….”

Nate sighed and rolled his eyes but answered dutifully, as expected.

“And I promise I will find some time before the play is over to tell him how I feel.”

Janus flashed a victory smile.

“Good. Now, all this dabbling into your love life has made me hungry. Let’s go get dinner.”

Nate grinned and nodded. Ignoring the return of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Nate pulled on his coat and joined the other two for dinner.

»»————　🕶️　————««

Logan wouldn’t say he had grown used to kissing Nate three days into practice, but he would definitely say he had grown comfortable with it. Unfortunately, as Monday came and classes began once more, Logan realized that today would be the first rehearsal.

He would have to kiss Nate… but on stage.

“I can’t do this, Nate,” he said, his words a little sharp from nerves. Nate just shrugged and nodded at the audience that was currently made up of the rest of their senior class. Unfortunately, that meant the seats were nearly packed and quite a lot of people would be watching.

Unlike their parents and faculty, the other students wouldn’t hold back if he were to make an absolute mockery of himself.

Suddenly, hands were on his shoulders and he could feel the tightness deep in his bones melting away as strong fingers rubbed into his muscles.

“Sorry… I should have asked first… I can stop, if you want me to…”

Logan shook his head, letting out a little moan of pleasure as his eyes closed.

“No… this is… this is acceptable.”

Logan sighed as he focused on Nate’s hands and the way his muscles relaxed under his touch. By the time his body was completely relaxed, Logan realized he was pressed into Nate in a very intimate way. Stepping forward, he turned to look at Nate, clearing his throat.

“Thank you for the massage. I appreciate it.”

Nate smiled.

“Anytime.”

Logan, noting how amazing his body felt, nodded. “Noted. I might actually take you up on that offer in the future. Now, let’s run the lines once more before we—”

“Logan. Nate. You two are up.” Remy called, as if bored out of his mind.

Logan stiffened but gave a sharp nod. Nate returned his hands to Logan’s shoulders as he nodded to his twin. Remy walked off and Nate turned Logan to look at him.

“You’ve got this, Logan. You already have all your lines memorized. Literally. Which by the way, think you can help me with that, because I totally do not…”

Logan laughed, feeling the worry and stress melting away.

He turned to look at Nate and smiled.

“I have this theory.”

Nate grinned. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“That you’re going to do a really good job.”

Nate’s eyes warmed and his smile went soft. Once again, Logan was projecting onto this poor teenager who had no idea what he did to Logan.

“Let’s go break some legs, yeah.”

“I prefer the phrase ‘fracture a femur’ but yes, let’s.”

Nate laughed deeply and Logan couldn’t help but grin, a little proud of himself for causing such a reaction.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate, in character, made his way to his love, tears lingering on his cheeks. He swallowed hard as he took in his ‘dead’ Juliet, rushing to the ‘concrete’ dias where her body lay. Pulling Logan into his arms, he tried his hardest not to look directly at Logan’s face. He didn’t want to cause the other to crack up or break character.

Vowing that he would love Juliet and Juliet alone forever, Nate as Romeo took the colored-water ‘poison’ and began to choke. He shuddered and moved to lay beside his lover on the dias. He choked a few more times for good measure, causing students in the audience to laugh before he collapsed once more on the structure and closed his eyes.

Nate did his very best to look dead. Considering that Nate was lazy by nature and often lounged around, and he was pretty certain Janus would happily tell him to his face he looked like a dead man walking, that was the easiest part of the play.

But what would come mere moments later…

Nate felt Logan shuffle on the dias, hearing him let out a yawn, signaling to the audience Juliet had woken from her drugged sleep. Unfortunately, Nate could not see what Logan was doing lest he break character but a moment later, he gasped.

Logan called for ‘Romeo’ but when Romeo did not rouse—though it was hard because Nate wanted nothing more than to reassure Logan how well he was doing—Juliet cried for her dead husband.

Nate felt a shift on the structure and then soft, gentle hands were taking hold of his face. He bit the part of his lower lip still hidden by his closed mouth to keep from grinning. He heard as Logan professed that he would kiss Romeo so that Juliet may be with him.

Soft but firm lips pressed against his own. Nate couldn’t deny he definitely smiled into the kiss. He could also feel Logan smiling into it.

That was when it happened.

Logan cracked up laughing and Nate opened his eyes to chuckle as well.

“Well, hey there, Julie, baby.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Logan said through his laughing.

Mr. Sanders joined them and laughed.

“That was really good… we’ll need to work on the laughing but otherwise… that practice was amazing, everyone! We’ll keep working on the blocking, but just keep running your lines and memorizing them. I think this is actually going to be really, really awesome!”

Nate glanced at Logan, who was beaming at Mr. S’s praise.

He’s so pretty when he smiles. Janus is right. God, I have it bad.

“Yeah, just wait til half of us have to do it in dresses.”

Nate snorted as he glanced at Janus, who was playing Rosaline. He had a point. Janus, Logan, and Virgil—not to mention a handful of other senior boys—would be wearing dresses for the show.

“And I have every faith that you will all rock them,” Mr. Sanders countered, which earned him a grin from Janus.

Janus leaned his arm on Remus’s shoulder and shrugged.

“I mean, you’re not wrong, Mr. S,” Janus agreed.

“I know I’m not. Now, you all get out of here and have a great and relaxing night. Logan, that means you.”

Nate glanced at Logan to see his crush blushing but grinning. Virgil spoke up.

“I’ll hold him to it, Mr. S.”

Thomas beamed at that.

“Good man, Virgil. Alright, see you all tomorrow.”

Rehearsal ended for the night, Nate turned to Logan.

“So… I’m kinda hungry and I’m assuming we’re still on for kissing practice tonight?”

Logan glanced at him and nodded.

“Then let me at the very least get you some dinner. It’s the least I can do after my dumb ass got exiled and you killed yourself over it.”

“Nathan… it’s a play.”

“You’re so right. It’s a total power play. You deserve better.”

Logan snorted at that and hesitated before bringing up a fist to punch him lightly in the shoulder.

Nate feigned bodily injury, grabbing his arm.

“Oh. You got me. I’m dead.”

He then pretended to die on the dias, eyes closed, tongue sticking out.

It wasn’t until warmth pressed against his cheek that he opened his eyes to see Logan pulling back, face flushed. It was obvious that Logan had just kissed his cheek and Nate, grinning, sat up to look at Logan.

Glancing around, he noticed that everyone else had left—well, mostly everyone. Virgil, Remus, Janus, and Patton were talking at the entrance to the backstage area. None of them were looking their way and so Nate, feeling confident, turned his attention back to Logan.

Before he could even open his mouth to ask Logan if he could kiss him, Logan claimed his mouth with his own. Nate’s eyes closed and he quickly returned the favor, a soft, happy sound escaping him.

Logan placed a hand on his chest as he slid closer, his other reaching up to grip at the little hairs at the back of Nate’s neck. Nate shivered but gasped, Logan quickly taking advantage of this and slipping his tongue inside.

Nate moaned, teasing along Logan’s tongue with his own as he kissed back desperately.

“Ooooooh,” Janus teased.

Nate’s eyes opened wide as he and Logan both jumped from the kiss. He quickly glanced toward the backstage but no one was there and all sound of talking had ceased. He would have assumed that the others—seeing what he and Logan were up to—had left but he also knew Janus very well.

“That was…”

“Satisfactory.”

Nate laughed at that. “Yes, very, very, very satisfactory.”

He held the other’s gaze and smiled.

“So… dinner?”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Very well. You’re paying.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

»»————　🕶️　————««

Logan fidgeted with his keys in his pocket as he walked with Nate to the cafeteria. The nice thing about the school was that they had little restaurants in the cafeteria, a lot like they did in colleges, instead of what most public schools offered. Unfortunately, as they allowed the students to work there for a wage, Virgil would most definitely be present.

He sighed as he realized the long talk Virgil would want to have with him the moment he saw Logan with Nate, already feeling exhausted.

“What’s wrong?”

Logan blinked up at the other.

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Logan lied. It wasn’t a complete lie, per say. Logan was used to Virgil and he never minded talking with his friend. He just didn’t want to hear the ‘I told you so’ from his friend when Virgil realized he hadn’t been limiting the kissing practices as well as he could have.

Nate, looking doubtful, frowned. “You sure?”

Logan laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah… just stressed out about the play but… somehow, I know it’s going to be okay.”

Nate laughed at that. “That’s the attitude to have, scholar!”

Logan smiled, ignoring the slight twinge of guilt he felt at not being completely truthful. Then again, there was no way he could be truthful without informing Nate about how he felt about him, and Logan…

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe it was selfish but, knowing that Nate would suddenly feel awkward and uncomfortable around him once he found out, Logan wanted to enjoy a little more time with him.

Just the two of them.

Just like this.

They reached the cafeteria and Logan followed Nate to the center of the room. Logan considered the options and was about to go order from where Virgil was working when Nate called out to him.

“My treat, so where we eating today?”

Logan nodded toward the little taco hut where Virgil stood now, watching them both. Nate, noticing Virgil for the first time, gave a start before grinning.

“Oh! Hey, Virgil. What’s up, dude?”

He moved over to the little taco restaurant and offered his fist, which Virgil bumped but not before snorting and rolling his eyes first. As Logan joined them, Virgil spoke up, not taking his eyes from Logan’s gaze.

“Hey, losers. What brings you guys down? Logan, didn’t you say your plan was to do homework tonight?”

He eyed Logan doggedly, which the intelligent student ignored, instead glancing at the menu though he already knew it by heart.

“Oh, that was my fault. After rehearsal I practically begged him to go get dinner with me because I am a sad, lonely guy.”

Logan watched Virgil closely, surprised at the slight grin slipping onto his face at Nate’s words.

“You’re not bad, Lassus. Your brother though… he’s a dick and he still owes me 50 bucks. Now, what can I get you losers to eat?”

Logan ordered what he always got: the taco plate. Nate, meanwhile, ordered a taco salad. Logan would have been slightly surprised as Nate had never pegged him as a good nutrition aficionado, but then the other asked for double meat and Logan could just sigh fondy and grin.

Nate tried to pay but Virgil completely ignored him. Food was placed on two trays and cups added afterward.

“On the house,” he said slowly, holding Nate’s gaze as if just trying to goad him into objecting. Nate seemed to realize this because he grinned and held up his hands.

“Okay, okay. I got the message.”

“Finally,” Virgil mumbled but he was grinning ever so slightly.

Logan realized that, in his own way, Virgil was approving of Nate. Once Nate took his tray to go find a great table, Logan grinned when his best friend’s eyes met his.

“Thank you,” he mouthed. Virgil rolled his eyes but mouthed your welcome before waving in the direction Nate had gone.

“He’s not such a total waste of a human, I suppose,” Virgil said finally. “But Logan… if this is something you want… you really need to tell—”

Logan sighed, cutting off yet another tirade. “I’m aware, V. I promise… I’ll tell him by the last performance.”

Virgil groaned softly. “You really, really should tell him before that but… fine… look, L. You don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to but… I’m afraid that if you don’t, all of this is going to hurt you a lot more than you realize.”

Logan wanted to disagree. Unfortunately, he was definitely not an expert on feelings and since Virgil was dating one of the two experts on feelings that they knew, he suspected Virgil likely picked up a few things.

“I vow to tell him before the start of our last performance at the latest.”

“I’ll drink to that compromise… you know, if I had a drink.” He sighed wistfully but Logan knew it was all for the theatrics. Though Virgil would swear up and down that he was not dramatic, Logan—friends with three dramatic people—knew better. He could be just as dramatic as Roman when he wanted to be.

Logan grabbed his tray, thanked Virgil once more, and headed for the table on the far side of the large, open room. Virgil called back to him, wishing him good luck, causing Logan to smile softly.

Gray eyes sought out his...friend. Logan, ignoring the sudden feeling of sadness, pushed such thoughts out of his head. Sure, Nate would never be his boyfriend, but it was clear he wanted to be friends. Logan would not be the kind of person who couldn’t be friends with someone who did not want to date him.

Nate waved his arms wildly, chuckling when Logan’s eyes met his and he corrected his course for Nate’s table. He reached him quickly enough, snorting when Nate tugged him gently to sit next to him, rather than across from him.

Logan had expected Nate to talk to him then but, as he quickly learned, Nate was very much an eat-now-talk-after kind of guy.

Laughing softly, Logan started to dig in as well.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate had eaten about half his food when he turned to Logan.

"I don't know about you but kissing sure does work up an appetite." His grin was flirty and eager.

Logan blushed and nodded.

"Interestingly enough, I have found that as well," Logan said. "I, too, am quite famished."

He continued to eat as Nate became preoccupied with stuffing his face once more.

"Mmmm."

Nate looked up at the sound of laughter. Logan was watching him eat, amusement in his gray gaze.

"Adequate to your taste buds?" Logan asked with another laugh.

Nate looked at him and answered, a bit of food still in his mouth.

"Beyond adequate," he moaned. "Thank Virgil again for me later."

Logan laughed.

"Will do."

They fell into companionable silence once more, Nate glancing at Logan every so often. Every other time he glanced, he caught Logan's gaze and both of them blushed before looking away.

Huh.

Wasn't that interesting.

Deciding he needed more time to consider the new development, Nate cleared his throat.

"So… what new book are you reading? I just picked up this great Agatha Christie novel that I'm sure you've read already but it's so good."

Logan blinked. He looked confused and even said as much.

"How do you know I read Agatha Christie novels?"

Nate laughed at that. Looking fondly at Logan, he smiled. "Scholar. You've been reading those books since we all started here. I noticed them and started reading a few myself."

Logan’s brows rose and while he didn't say anything, Nate knew exactly what that look was for.

"Yes. I read. Shocker, right?"

Logan's expression took on an apologetic sort of look and Nate laughed.

"No no. You're fine, cutie. I'm used to people being surprised. In their defense and yours, I don't read a lot. But I can and do read."

Logan nodded, a grin slipping onto his face as he turned to look at him better, leaning in eagerly.

"So which book is it that you're reading?"

"Death on the Nile."

Logan nodded with a grin.

"That one is very good but my favorite will always be—"

"The Murder of Roger Ackroyd," Nate finished for him with a warm smile.

Logan blinked. He stared at Nate for a few moments, questions in those gray eyes. Nate was worried that maybe he had said too much.

Maybe Logan realized that Nate really liked him and now it was going to be awkward because Logan didn't feel the same.

And then Logan blushed and nodded. A soft smile slipped onto his face.

"Precisely."

Nate grinned as the slight charge between them in that moment settled. He didn't know what had happened but it hadn't sent Logan running and he considered that a win on his part.

They finished dinner and said their goodbyes to Virgil before heading out of the cafeteria for Nate’s dorm.

»»————　🕶️　————««

Logan was quiet on the walk to Nate’s dorm room. He knew that Nate had to be wondering at his silence but he couldn’t bring himself to speak just yet.

The reason for his silence...

There had been a moment while eating with Nate that had opened his eyes to knowledge he hadn’t been aware he had lacked.

Logan didn’t know how he knew it but the moment Nate supplied Logan’s favorite Agatha Christie novel as fact and not a guess had been very telling and Logan was almost certain that Nate liked him. A lot.

Perhaps even as much as Logan liked Nate.

Just tell him! You know he likes you now! Tell him!

He knew that his more logical side was right. At this point, with such a high probability of his feelings being reciprocated, the logical course of action would be to tell him.

And yet, Logan couldn’t.

He couldn’t even give a logical explanation as to why, which frustrated him more than anything. It just didn’t feel like the right time. Or the right place.

Logan chewed his lip.

He really hated relying on his feelings.

“Hey… half-dollar for your thoughts?”

Logan blinked up at the other. He seemed nervous. Logan smiled at him.

“I’m certain the expression is ‘penny for your thoughts’.”

Nate grinned at that, seeming to relax once more.

“Yeah, well. Pennies are practically worthless these days and I think more highly of the things that come out of your beautiful brain.”

Logan blushed at that and cleared his throat.

“Just have a lot on my mind.”

Nate nodded, falling silent once more.

Logan bit his lip before moving a little closer to the other. He tapped him with his elbow in a playful manner he’d seen Virgil do with Patton. It seemed to work because Nate grinned down at him like the sun.

“Hey.”

Logan wanted to make up for the silence and since he couldn’t tell him everything… not yet...Logan said the first thing he could think of.

“I can’t wait for practice.”

Then he blushed as he realized the implications of this. Nate looked at him in surprise, a slight flush to his cheeks as he slowly grinned.

“Uh oh…”

Logan raised a brow. He hadn’t expected that reaction. “What?”

“Looks like someone has an addiction to kisses.”

Logan blushed but rolled his eyes.

“You are what my friend Roman would call ‘an absolute dork’.”

Nate snorted.

“Roman Prince? Not surprised that’s his idea of an insult but, well, you're not wrong.”

Logan grinned, pleased to feel the air around them grow comfortable once more.

“But… I concede that, perhaps, you are not wrong as well.”

Nate grinned at him.

“About what?” he pressed. Logan glared at him. Nate took on a look of innocence. “I merely want to be clear about what part of what I said was not wrong.”

Logan knew that wasn’t the case. Nate wanted to hear him say it. He decided that since he couldn’t outright tell him how he felt, the least he could do was tell him what he wanted to hear.

It was true, after all.

“I am… addicted to kisses.”

He blushed far deeper than he expected to confess that out loud. He stopped and quickly hid his face in his hands. Nate must have glanced back and noticed he had stopped before quickly returning to him.

“Awww. No, no… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you… I was just teasing. Can I… can I hug you?”

Logan nodded but did not remove his hands from his burning face. He felt as strong arms embraced him. He stayed like that, feeling safe and secure in his arms. At some point, he pulled his hands away to press his face into the other’s chest, his own arms wrapping tentatively around the taller teen’s middle.

“How’s that? Better, cutie?”

Logan nodded, trying to ignore how warm the nickname made him.

“Do you want to postpone the practice? If you need to, then that’s totally—”

“No!”

Nate blinked down at the other in surprise. Logan could see that his reaction had been a bit too passionate considering Nate had no idea how he felt about him.

“I mean, no… I very much would like to keep on schedule.”

Nate slowly grinned.

“Then what better time to start… Can I kiss you right here, Logan? Right now?”

Logan had a feeling Nate was expecting him to laugh and playfully punch him before they continued on their course for his room.

That was not what happened.

Logan moved his arms from around him. He then threw himself at Nate, wrapping his arms around his neck, as he kissed him. Hard.

Nate’s eyes widened but soon fluttered closed as he tightened his hold on the slighter teen, kissing back as desperately as Logan kissed him.

When they finally pulled away—it was with some difficulty breathing, Logan couldn’t deny—he swallowed hard and held the other’s gaze. Nate’s gaze was curious.

“Nate…” Logan said slowly. He saw the slight surprise on the other’s face. Logan had never called him Nate before.

“Logan…”

Logan hesitated. He very much needed to tell Nate or he would always be wondering ‘what if’? As a scientific minded individual, what ifs were only useful if the question was answered. Logan needed some answers.

“Can we… can we go somewhere quiet… your room is fine… but just somewhere with not a lot of people… please?”

Nate, obviously confused, nodded.

“Yeah… we’re almost to my room anyway. Come on.”

Logan’s insides churned and tumbled as he walked at Nate’s side. He honestly had no idea what had possessed him to almost tell Nate how he felt… outside.

That… that definitely was not the place for such intimate talks such as that. No. One should take the person of their affections, ask to speak with them in private, and only for their ears, share what was in their heart.

Logan nearly made a face.

When had he become so sentimental?

He glanced up at Nate and slowly, a fond smile slipped over his lips.

Oh, yeah. Right.

They reached Nate’s dorm room soon after, Nate holding up a finger before walking inside, signaling Logan to wait. Logan, considering himself fairly intelligent, was sure Nate wanted to make certain Janus (and by proxy, Remus) was not around.

He waited as patiently as he could, rubbing his fingers against his jeans in a comforting manner. Soon enough, though it felt a lot longer to Logan, Nate returned and held the door for him.

“Come on in, scholar.”

Logan did just that, almost jumping at the click of the door as Nate closed it behind them. He then led Logan into the room, making his way to the bed and taking a seat. He patted the space next to him. Logan took a deep breath, crossed the room to the bed, and took the offered seat.

He quickly turned to Nate just as Nate turned toward him.

“Logan, there’s something I need to tell you,” Nate said at the exact same time Logan said, “Nate, there’s something I wish to tell you.”

Both of them broke out laughing, their faces flushed, gazes vulnerable.

Nate cleared his throat and held out his hands, palms up, to Logan.

“May I?” he asked, voice low. Logan nodded, placing his hands into Nate’s.

Nate, dark eyes locked with Logan’s, bit his lip before smiling.

“That’s better… now… I’m sorry for jumping the gun. You… you go first.”

Logan wanted to refuse or insist Nate go, but he decided that that wasn’t fair to Nate. He had been the one asking to talk. He should go first.

He nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Logan for the first time in his life ignored his mind and spoke from his heart.

»»————　♞　————««

Nate squeezed Logan’s hands as the other seemed to search for the courage needed to say what he had to.

Nate knew what he hoped Logan wanted to say. He hoped more than anything that Logan had come to realize that he liked Nate too. But, that could just as easily not be what Logan wanted to tell him. Maybe he had noticed that Nate liked him and was being respectful, letting him down in private.

Maybe he just wanted to be friends.

Nate could live with that. It would hurt for a while, but he could deal.

As long as it wasn’t Logan never wanting to see him again, Nate could live with whatever it was the other was about to tell him. He sighed inwardly and instead focused on Logan.

Logan, who was struggling.

Nate squeezed his hands again.

“Hey,” he said and waited until Logan’s eyes met his. “Whatever it is, you won’t scare me away.” He paused. “Unless you dress up as a clown on the weekend… then I’d say my loyalty is questionable…”

Logan laughed at that and it seemed to be the reassurance he needed. He cleared his throat and Nate leaned in subconsciously.

“... You were correct earlier… when you said I was addicted to kisses… I am very much addicted to kisses…”

He glanced down at their hands and seemed to consider what to say next. Nate watched him closely, mesmerized by him.

“I am addicted to your kisses, Nate…”

Nate blushed and a big grin slipped onto his face as it hit him.

Logan liked him. And Nate was him. Nate. Logan liked Nate.

“Are you saying-?!!”

Logan laughed at that and nodded, blushing a little himself.

“I like you, Nate. I have for a very long time.”

Nate whistled and shook his head.

“Well, that just sucks because I’ve liked you for a very long time too. Since we first met, now that I think about it. It feels like we’ve missed out on so much time.”

Logan blinked at the remark and nodded a second later when it registered what Nate meant.

“It does. But we’re here now… together...”

Nate beamed and his excitement soon morphed into unbridled adoration.

“Be my Juliet… but alive… and forever?”

Logan snorted. “There are so many things wrong with that question, Nate, but I like you, so I forgive you. I will be your boyfriend, though, if that would be agreeable with—”

“Yes! So freaking agreeable! Totally agreeable!”

Nate watched in wonder as Logan laughed, not holding back, his gray eyes full of happiness and fondness as he looked upon Nate. He couldn’t keep from surging forward and claiming Logan’s lips with his own.

Logan relaxed into the kiss with ease, his arms wrapping around Nate’s neck like they’d never stopped. Nate moaned into the kiss as Logan kissed back eagerly, sounds of enjoyment escaping him as well.

When they broke for air, Nate nuzzled into Logan’s hair with his nose before pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Boyfriend,” he said, overjoyed to use the title for Logan.

Logan rolled his eyes, blushing. “Dork.”

Nate brought a hand to his heart as if he had been hurt. He then swooned and ‘collapsed’ upon his bed. Logan laughed and then shifted to hover over him.

“Let’s keep this between us… just until after the play… Virgil has been trying to get me to tell you forever and I really do not need to deal with any I told you so’s… and maybe, I also would not mind keeping you to myself for a little bit longer.”

Nate snorted. “Oh. You can always have me to yourself. I don’t mind picking Janus up by the collar and tossing him out if need be… uh, but maybe don’t quote me on that. Still, keeping up a ruse sounds fun. I’m in.”

Logan smiled down at him and Nate brought a hand up to frame his face, guiding him down to kiss him.

If they got lost in the kisses and each other, neither minded in the slightest.

-----------------------------------------------

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @superweebside and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.

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brandstifter-sys · 3 years

Text

Trash Bat

@dukexietyweek Day 7 - Music (Ao3)

Word Count: 1581

Characters: Roman, Janus, Remus, Virgil

Rating: T

Warnings: innuendo, fire, spiders

Virgil is goaded into going to one of Roman’s boring galas, because Remus wants him there to help cause problems just like old times.

(Song fic. “Trash Bat” by AFI, also inspired by this and this)

---

Virgil had never been one to go to one of these events and take it seriously, even when Roman pleaded with him. He hated dressing up in fancy costumes and slow dancing with figments from the Imagination. But he was here, all because Janus called him out for always rudely refusing, and he was not about to make Janus look honest.

He hated the stupid purple jacket with silver embellishments and the black dress pants. He wanted his hoodie and his headphones but he couldn't have those for a while. So he watched the people dancing around on the golden floor, avoiding the Grecian columns and the gaudy double staircase. The prince was not one of them.

"You know," Janus said as he wandered up to the window ledge where he was hiding behind a long red curtain, "Roman doesn't have any qualms about you not attending." Virgil glared at him and clenched his fists.

"Then why the fuck did you guilt me into showing up?" he hissed. Janus shrugged and brushed any dust from his jacket.

"Roman isn't the one who wants to see you here. It's not often Remus gets dressed up. Like a pulp tabloid magazine with a slick-print cover."

"You couldn't bother telling me that to get me here in the first place?"

"I was under the impression that the others don't know about your rendezvous and you wanted to keep that a secret," he hummed and scanned the crowd. And then he smiled.

"I am going to kill you until you're so dead the Dragon Witch can't reanimate your corpse," Virgil spat. Janus had the gaul to laugh and meander onto the dancefloor to find a woo-able partner. Virgil glared at him until he was out of sight.

"You look tense, Scare Bear," Remus giggled and grabbed his hand suddenly, "Tense and princely, in a satanic way!"

Virgil glanced at the duke and his heart skipped a beat. Remus was clean and groomed impeccably, with his usual makeup toned down and human teeth that were straight and blinding, rather than his fangs. He looked good in his more refined jacket with silver shoulder pads and a clean sash. He also looked like he was wearing cardboard.

"And you look like you want to start a fight and destroy this place," Virgil scoffed as Remus kissed the back of his hand, "So why don't we get out of here? I'll make sure you get your fill of carnage."

"Now there's an idea! So you don't want to woo the Gerard Way figment? He'd show you how he disappears in your—"

"Puppy, you know I only have one person I want to bring to my bed," Virgil cut him off, "And he smiles no matter how rough I get with him."

"Are you going to be my angel after we destroy this boring shindig?"

"You should know by now that I put you through hell, and I don't play nice."

"You're a devil in the sheets and on the streets, but you're so sweet in the dark, it makes all the agony worth it."

"You really want help ruining this, don't you?" Virgil snorted. He knew how the duke pleaded all too well.

"I do! Even Roman is bored! It's the perfect opportunity! It'll be just like old times!"

"We always pissed Princey off and then he threatened to maim us."

"And we can apologize for it with a video!"

"Only if you keep it clean for the camera."

"We're talking about my brother here!—But does that mean when the camera's off—?"

"You can be my filthy little trash bat. Yeah," Virgil shrugged and got up, "So, once more with a smile, let's start with the music and then the spiders and fires."

Remus beamed and led him to the dancefloor with all the false poise and grace of a man with a snake face. For the first time that night, a genuine grin crossed Virgil's lips, a wicked one but still a genuine grin, and Remus' heart melted.

They fell into a simple waltz, taking broad steps to clear a piece of floor. No one, not even the prince they pushed aside, suspected what was to come. No, the way those two were gazing into each other's eyes gave off a different impression.

And then they were in the middle of the floor, frozen in place when the song faded. Remus briefly lifted his hand from Virgil's shoulder and snapped his fingers as he relaxed his other arm. He winked and reached behind his back, grabbing the hand Virgil pressed to his lower back, not letting go of Virgil's shoulder.

The music picked up again, suddenly. The loud drums caused the crowd to panic momentarily, but they were almost immediately distracted when Virgil snapped his arm out and spun Remus, quickly reeling him back in, and pulling him to his chest, holding his waist.

Remus wasted no time twisting and kicking his legs up and over his head, flipping out of Virgil's grasp. He grabbed Virgil's hand and spun him out, letting him take an extra spin and fall to a knee. It was time for the real fun to begin.

Ρulp in the slick

Αnd you're all I take tο bed

Το read with me

Remus was thrilled to show off his footwork kicking and jumping, crossing his feet and spinning. He was fast, looming closer to Virgil.

Ρulp in the slick

Αnd you're all I take tο bed

With me tο

In a flash, Virgil swung his leg around, getting Remus to jump over it and take a knee. Virgil planted his hands and used the momentum to backflip to his feet. He made a show of swinging his leg over Remus and flipping over him in a sort of cartwheel, landing low to grab Remus' hands and pull him to his feet.

Οnce mοre with a smile

Brοken teeth and bloody eyes

They swung around each other once, then Remus pulled Virgil in, letting him swing between his legs and back. Virgil regained his footing and hunched down so he could flip Remus behind him so they were back to back.

Ιn my mean light

Μy my my Trash Βat

Roman was in awe. He thought this level of insanity was over, and hated that this was the beginning. The two of them were still incredible to witness as their sharp bold moves shifted into a sort of rapid tango. Virgil seemed to be leading, if only because Remus was showing off, but Roman knew they could switch in an instant and stay in sync.

Once more with a smile

Broken teeth and empty eyes

As they seemed to finish another round of "don't step on my feet" in style, Virgil grabbed Remus' waist and dipped him. Remus tumbled out of his grasp. He faced his emo and goaded him with his hands.

In my mean light

My my my Trash Bat

Virgil ran at him and dropped to the floor, sliding under Remus as he jumped into the air. Virgil rolled onto his front and crawled toward Remus with his legs trailing behind him. He swiftly took a knee and nodded to the duke, holding his hands out and open.

Flies οr the flames

Wear nο halo 'rοund my head

Οh blessed be

Remus ran at him, ready to make some waves! He pressed a foot on Virgil's hands and jumped as the emo flung him to the ceiling. He grabbed onto the largest chandelier and swung on it, giggling and kicking his feet.

Virgil snickered at how happy Remus looked and snapped his fingers. Remus only got more giddy as thousands of spiders flooded in through the windows. Patton was the first one out of there, followed swiftly by the majority of the crowd. And then Remus set the curtains on fire.

Κeep it clean

Κeep it clean fοr the camera

When no one else was in the building, except for Roman, Virgil banished the spiders and stood under the chandelier with open arms.

"What the hell was that!?" Roman huffed and marched up to Virgil, "I thought you were done wreaking havoc!" Virgil shrugged and winced as Remus fell into his arms.

"He wasn't planning on causing problems til I seduced him!" Remus laughed, "But it was worth it! And we livened up this shindig so you're welcome!" He stuck out his tongue at his brother before kissing Virgil's cheek and getting to the ground.

"Are you—? He's my brother and you and he—?" Roman gawked when it hit him.

"Don't sound so surprised!" Remus laughed and leaned against Virgil, "I'm the hot twin! And I get off on mean compliments! You just aren't the right fit for Scare Bear!"

"If you think that I'm jealous, you're wrong. I just can't believe that you and he would even consider each other that way!—especially you, Virgil."

"I'm madly in love with Remus," Virgil admitted shyly, "He's my trash bat." Remus cooed and moved to kiss his cheek, but Virgil had other plans.

He turned his head at just the right moment to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. Roman was gawking like a fish.

"You sneaky sonofabitch!" Remus giggled and clung to him.

"We're gonna go ahead and leave. Thanks for the invite," Virgil mumbled and sank out with Remus, leaving Roman to wrap his head around it all. They earned the following round of cuddles and then some!

#dukexietyweek2021 #sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #dukexiety #fire mention tw #sex menton tw #spider mention tw #song fic #sandyscribed

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ajthedumbass · 3 years

Text

Son of a Preacher

Summary: Patton Hart lives in a small town. As son of the local preacher, he’s supposed to be an example of a good Christian son. While trying to meet expectations, one boy might change his life.

Pairings: Mainly intruality, with side analogical and roceit

Warnings: Alcohol, underage drinking, religion, implied abuse, homophobia, swearing, mentions of sex, internalized homophobia. I think thats all but let me know if theres more

All Parts Next Part >

Chapter 1

Patton Hart had always been a good kid.

He went to Church, he helped clear the table, kept his room tidy and his grades high. He never went to parties, or did drugs, or drank anything other than the wine he had for communion. He never acted out. He didn’t want to ruin his family’s image of the perfect “traditional” family.

His mom was a teacher at the town’s elementary school and taught Sunday School on the weekends. She always had dinner on the table at 6pm and hosted bible study groups for the local moms every Wednesday and Friday.

His dad was the town’s preacher. Everyone knew him. They all loved and respected him. He was looked up to by many in town as both a leader and as a great father.

His older brother Percy had been the star of the high school football team. Popular at school and was now engaged to the former head of the cheer squad. He got accepted into multiple top colleges for his athletic abilities. He was the “perfect” son, even though Patton knew of several impure things Percy would do behind their parent’s backs when he lived at home.

And then there was Patton. The sweet boy who rarely got in trouble and did everything he could to be as “perfect” as his brother. He was the kind of boy every parent in town would want their daughter to marry. Though, he never was interested in dating. At least that’s what he told his parents. There was one thing he kept hidden from them.

He was gay.

Sunday was a church day as always. Patton and his mother in the front to be close to Mr. Hart as he gave his weekly sermon. Something about some sinner in the bible and what not. Sometimes his father would start talking about how being gay is a sin.

If only he knew.

Patton gets up in the middle of him talking, excusing himself and listening to his mother tell him to hurry back. He just wanted to get away from the homophobia before his brain starts acting up again. He walks to the bathroom, the smell of alcohol affronting him as soon as he enters. Two boys stand in the corner, drinking from a flask and laughing at some crude joke one of them told. He tries to just quickly go into a stall without drawing attention to himself, but is noticed by one of them. “Hey, you’re the preacher’s kid, right?”

Patton gulps and nervously looks up with a nod. “Y-Yeah... You know you really shouldn’t be doing that here...” He knew both of them from school. In fact, his best friend was ‘rivals’ with one in drama club and twins with the other. The pair, Janus and Remus, were the complete opposite of Patton, which made him extremely anxious about being alone in the same room as them.

Remus was tall and muscular, dark eyeliner outlining his eyes. He had one brown eye and one green eye, and was totally identical to his twin except for two things. Personality, and mustache. Janus was average height and equally intimidating to Remus. His black hair covered his eyes some, though the big scar that went over his left eye was still visible.

Remus’ eyes light up as he grins. “Wanna tryyyy iiiit?” He holds the flask out to Patton, who very quickly shakes his head. “Your loss!” Remus laughs as he takes another sip. Janus sighs, grabbing the flask from Remus. “You’re already drunk enough. I swear if my flask is empty and I have to deal with my dad almost sober... Dammit Remus!” “Whaaaat?” He whines, pouting like a child.

Patton slips out quickly before either of them can start talking to him again. “I’ll just wait until I get home” He mutters to himself.

Remus runs out after him, Janus behind him. “Hey, what’s your name?~”

Janus sighs. “I’m sorry, I tried to stop him.” Patton half-smiles “I-Its okay... I’m Patton” Remus gasps, acting as though it was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard. “Wooooooooooow! See you later Patton!~” He giggles before running back into the bathroom with his friend.

Patton waves “Bye!”

“I’m gonna kill him... He thinks he’s so much better than me...” Patton sighs “You got the lead, why are you so upset?” Roman gasps dramatically. “Because he... he... he’s just a bitch!” Virgil chuckles as he sits at the lunch table with his boyfriend. “Yeah, and Roman just wants to fuck him.” Logan laugh as Roman flips them off.

Patton grins a little before fake glaring. “Language!”

Virgil rolls his eyes, knowing Patton was only joking. “Sorry dad! I won’t say fuck anymore.”

Patton sighs and laughs. “Don’t make me use the finger.” He jokes, waving said finger at them playfully.

Logan snorts “Yes Pat, because that would be so effective.” Before Patton can respond, someone speaks behind him. “Hey preacher boy~” Patton looks over, seeing Remus again. “H-Hi”

Roman groans “Fuck off Re...”

Remus shushes Roman “I’m having a conversation. How are you Patton?”

Patton blushes a little. “I-I’m good. Uh, how are you?” He asks back. He noticed the way Remus’ hair looked so soft and fluffy, his mustache appearing to match. He wanted to run his hands through it and stare into his eyes.

As soon as those thoughts popped into his mind, the familiar thoughts of hostility towards his sexuality returned. They came any time his family said homophobic things and anytime he seemed to get feelings for a boy. Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, Remus replies.

“Good. Janus still wants to kill me for drinking his flask.” Roman furrows his brows. “Don’t you have your own?” “Am I talking to you? Anyways, I better go before he finds me and starts bitching about Roman again. Bye!”

“Bye!” Patton giggles and waves, blushing as he turns back around.

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “Patton’s got a crush” “On my brother? Really Pat?” Roman groans.

Patton blushes more “He’s cute... His mustache looks soft...”

Logan grins “I think Patton just likes bad boys.”

“I... Oh there’s the bell, gotta go!” He says quickly, rushing out of the lunchroom.

Patton walks home, smiling as he heads to the pond he always goes to on the way. He smiles and sits on the bench, pulling out the ziploc bag with a few slices of bread in it out of his pocket. He starts tearing the bread, throwing the pieces into the water for his “duck friends”. He sits contently for several minutes, then notices a familiar face slightly up the shore from him. He moves from his spot and stands behind Remus. “Hey!”

Remus turns around and smiles widely “Hi PatPat! You like frogs?” He asks, holding a very small frog in the palm of his hand with the gentleness of a little kitten.

Patton gasps “So cute! Can I hold him?” He smiles when Remus nods and takes the frog happily. “Hi little buddy!”

Remus blushes at the sight but quickly regains composure. “I come here sometimes to go frog hunting. I like to look for bugs too.” Patton chuckles “I can handle frogs... not so much bugs, especially spiders. I like to feed the ducks everyday. I give them a little snack. We’ve become quite good friends... if you want, I have some bread left. We could sit and feed them for a while.”

“That sounds nice” The pair sat on the bench, now feeding the ducks together with the little frog hopping around between them. Patton felt happy sitting there with him. He felt free and relaxed. It wasn’t until Remus reached over to touch his hand that his brain moved from autopilot.

“Can I kiss you?”

#sanders sides #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #intruality #roceit #analogical #tw abuse #tw alcohol #tw religion #tw homophobia #tw internalized homophobia #my fic #my wriitng #son of a preacher

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tealquacks · 4 years

Text

They Share a Kitchen: Chapter 2, Cross-i-ants

Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644/chapters/59916505#workskin

@alexalexisalexej

Remus watched Logan rush up the stairs, then looked at the recipe he’d summoned. Really, it was simple, but certainly time consuming! And what the fuck was laminated dough? Remus tilted his head, squinting. Oh, that took a lot of butter. Remus sat at the kitchen table, smiling at the recipe. He read it over and over again.

“Logan, you sly motherfucker,” he said to himself. A thirteen hour recipe, and that would fuck with everyone’s little rituals. That sort of chaos is something he could get behind. For a moment he considered barging into Logan’s room to grab the schedule, just so he could see who’d show up when.

But for now, there was plenty of lamb and risotto to eat, warm and smelling delicious. Jan always came for breakfast about an hour after he was done, and he never cared about eating dinner for breakfast.

He heard the rustling of light footsteps. There he was now! Earlier than usual, but who cared? Remus smiled, grabbed two plates from the cupboards, and put a heaping of risotto and half of the lamb rack on each plate. Janus walked into the kitchen, yawned, and immediately walked over to the coffee maker.

“Not even a good morning?” Remus asked, setting the plates down at the table. Janus rolled his eyes. It was fun to see Janus so disheveled, hat and cloak gone, replaced with an oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He still wore the gloves, though. Come to think of it, Remus could remember every single time Janus had shown him his hands— there were five. One for each finger on each hand.

“Why don’t you take your gloves off?” Remus asked. Janus flicked him on the cheek before sitting down with a large cup of coffee.

“Jesus, Remus, let me at least wake up.”

“But you are awake..?”

Janus snorted.

“Let me have a cup of coffee, Reem. The food looks delicious, though. This is lamb, correct?”

Remus nodded, summoning silverware for Janus and him, even though he knew Janus would only use the spoon.

“Tear a bit of the meat off and eat it before having the rest, I marinated it! I think it’ll be extra tasty. And it’s garlic! I know how much you love garlic.”

Janus rolled his eyes, but he did cut off a sliver of meat, delicately picking it up with his fork and setting it on his tongue. Remus clutched the edge of the table as he watched Janus chew, then swallow.

“It’s delicious,” Janus said with a smile, “the meat is cooked perfectly and the seasoning is exquisite.”

Remus slammed his hands on the table, then energetically flapped them about, smiling brighter than a million stars. He giggled and stomped his feet a little, taking a minute to calm down.

“You can have the rest now,” he said, still grinning. Janus nodded. As dignified as he could, he picked up the half rack of lamb in his gloved fingers. Remus watched silently as Janus’ jaw opened, then opened some more, unhinging wide enough for the half rack to slip into his mouth. Then, Janus swallowed, polished bones and all. Remus clapped, and Janus daintily patted his lips with a napkin.

“Pardon me,” Janus said.

“You are certainly pardoned!” Remus chirped. He picked up his knife and fork, and cut into the lamb. The herbs smelled fantastic, and the knife slid through the meat so easily.

“Did you know that the Cleveland Torso Murderer dismembered his victims so badly only three of his thirteen victims were identified?” Remus rambled, mouth full, “Often the head would be missing! Or their dicks! His first victim was found chopped apart by a lake! With no head!”

Janus made a face, a spoonful of risotto right in front of his mouth.

“The meat made you think of that, right?”

“Cutting it,” Remus answered, “it was a doozy to make, and I’m sure as hell going to enjoy it. Oh! You won’t believe who I ran into last night!”

Janus looked at him nervously.

“Orange..?” He asked. Remus shook his head. Orange never visited the kitchen. He liked to stay out of sight. Occasionally he would pop in, but only if Remus made something with bok choy. Weird guy.

“Nope. Logan!” Remus crowed, “we had a lovely conversation and he recommended a recipe to me.”

Janus raised an eyebrow, reaching over the table with a gloved hand. Remus conjured the recipe and passed it to Janus. Janus squinted at the paper, then guffawed.

“Thirteen hours! You certainly can’t be serious. He certainly can’t be serious.”

“Oh, he is!” Remus exclaimed, “the reason he gave me the recipe and the reason he came to the kitchen in the first place was because turns out we all have little schedules. Like how we always go early so we don’t bump into Vergilius and Patton and Logan and my brother—“

“Let me stop you there.” Janus leaned back in his chair. He elegantly took a bite of risotto, then continued speaking. “We don’t eat early to avoid the others. We eat early because I like to wake up early. The self-proclaimed ‘light sides’ eat later than us because they loathe our company. Specifically: Virgil and Roman. And Patton simply doesn’t like to talk to you.”

Remus chortled.

“Yeah, I know all that. So, tomorrow— this evening..? I don’t know, but I’m gonna make the cross-i-ants.”

Janus raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Cross-i-ants.”

“You know how to pronounce it,” Janus drawled. Remus smirked, slurping some lamb right off the bone. Then, he cracked it between his teeth and sucked out the marrow inside. Janus seemed unimpressed.

“Yeah, I do, but you know how I love being annoying!”

“Oh, I know you better than anyone, of course I know just what you love.”

Remus snapped his fingers. The lights dimmed, and a candle appeared on the table, bathing them in dim, romantic light.

“You do now?” He purred.

Janus pulled off his glove. He licked his thumb and pointer finger, and pinched the wick of the candle. It extinguished with a hiss.

“You love pissing everyone off.”

Remus leaned back into his seat.

“Yup. I’m gonna make the cross-i-aints, they’ll be ready at like, four o’clock pm tomorrow. I don’t remember, Logan did the math.”

Janus squinted at him as he delicately pulled his glove back on.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea..?” Janus said, “we don’t want to cause any conflict that could lead to Thomas’ mental health deteriorating more than it already has.”

Remus waved his hand nonchalantly, the lights flickering back to life.

“Fucking bullshit, it’ll be fine. I’m done with my plate, by the way, If you want the rest of my risotto.”

With that, he stood from the table and flopped onto his back, promptly sinking out and back to his half of the imagination.

—

Three am. Remus danced into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an incandescent yet slightly deranged smile on his face. His hair was all messy from tossing and turning in his sleep, dreaming of croissants and the messiness his presence in the kitchen would cause. With an energetic clap, he summoned the recipe. The dough would be easy enough to make— flour, butter, some yeast, milk, et cetera. He opened the fridge, and took out the milk. But even after getting the ingredients he needed, he left the fridge open. That’s how Logan saw him last night, by the light of the fridge.

So he kept the fridge open as he mixed the ingredients for the dough, bathed in the cold light. By the time he had to add the milk into the dough (slowly, the recipe said,) the kitchen had grown a little chilly. For a moment and only a moment Remus regretted not wearing any clothing. To warm himself up, he spun around, dancing a little before getting back to mixing all the milk into the dough. That was finished quickly. Then, he took the dough out of the bowl, and dunked his hands into the flour before kneading.

“What the fuck are you doing,” a voice snapped. Remus looked up, spotting Janus standing before him, hair messy and eyes squinting. He still wore the gloves. Did he wear them to bed?

“I’m making cross-i-ants, can’t you tell? And do you wear your gloves to bed or something?”

Janus crossed his hands behind his back.

“...No, I don’t. To be honest, I thought you were joking when you said you were planning on making croissants,” Janus said. Remus rolled his eyes, and kept on kneading.

“Look,” Remus responded, “I’m as curious as Logan is about this schedule thing, and I want to see what happens when it’s fucked with! It’ll be fun. And we get nice pastries!”

Janus raked his eyes up and down Remus’ body. He watched them move, somewhat uncaring.

“Is being nude part of this experiment?”

“No, I just felt like feeling free. Join me, be free.”

“Remus—“

Remus winked, then tilted his head curiously.

“Fuckin, snakes have two dicks. I’ve never seen your dick. Dicks?”

“You don’t need to see my genitalia.”

“Oh come on, Jannie,” Remus whined, “please? For me?”

Remus finished kneading the dough and strode over to Janus, waggling his eyebrows and shoulders suggestively. Janus scoffed, but the scoff sounded a little more like a laugh than a real angry scoff.

“Only if you promise me two things—“

“One for each dick?”

“You’re pushing it,” Janus deadpanned. Then he walked over to the counter and leaned against it.

“One,” Janus continued, “you cook me rabbit. You know how much I love rabbit. Secondly, put on some goddamn clothing. Please. You’ll catch a cold.”

“I’m not a human person, Jannie, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you want to see my genitalia or not.”

Remus snorted, then said “Just say dick, motherfucker. And yes I want to see your cock and balls and also your other dick.”

“Why are we friends.”

“Because you have nobody else! And I don’t either!”

“What about Logan?”

“Now that’s off topic,” Remus said. “But— Back to the topic at hand— I know just what to wear!”

Remus snapped his fingers, and he was suddenly donning a pastel pink apron that said “kiss the cook” in glittery black cursive. Remus conjured a green marker with a snap of his fingers, and started scribbling. When he pulled away from the apron, the word ‘kiss’ had been scratched out, and ‘FUCK’ had been written in its place. Janus sighed, since technically, Remus was wearing clothes.

Janus yanked down his boxers, showing Remus what he wanted to see.

“Fuck me running, you do have two dicks! That’s impressive. How do you wear pants?”

“Like anyone else,” Janus drawled, looking away. Remus, however, intensely stared.

“Wait a damn minute,” he said after a minute, “is your dick— your dicks— bigger than mine?”

Remus pulled up his apron, and held his dick in his hand. He couldn’t really tell since Janus stood a few paces away from him, and because there were two. The human part of Janus’ face was bright red.

“We have the same body, I doubt—“

“What the fuck is going on?!?” Someone shouted. Remus whirled around, dick still out, and stared into the sleepy, raccoon-like eyes of Virgil.

“Whip out your dick, bitch, I’m making croissants!”

Virgil opened his mouth, then shut it. He turned on his heel, and walked away without another word, followed by Remus’ hysterical laughter.

—

Janus stayed a few hours, chatting idly with Remus as he mixed butter and put a bunch of things in the fridge to wait for a really long time. The recipe said four hours, but Remus decided to wait five, just to make sure the dough would be super good.

After he took the dough out of the fridge, Patton, Virgil, and Logan strolled into the kitchen. Upon seeing the two of them, Patton gasped, Virgil groaned, and Logan nonchalantly walked over to the coffee maker.

“Remus!” Patton squeaked.

“Guilty as charged,” Remus said. He put the dough back into the fridge. He didn’t want to fuck up the recipe because of them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Virgil growled, “besides… oh god, that wasn’t a nightmare, was it?”

“More like a sweet, sweet dream. But to answer your question! I’m making cross-i-ants!”

Virgil opened his mouth to say something that would probably be really rude, but Patton interrupted him.

“Sorry, what?”

“He’s making croissants,” Janus said, glaring at Logan, “from scratch.”

Logan sipped his coffee. Patton didn’t seem to notice Janus’ glare, instead looking quizzically at Remus.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook,” he said, swallowing nervously. Remus chuckled.

“Oh, I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?”

Virgil glared silently at him, but with enough heat to fry an egg real quick. Egg. Oh—

“Do you want a demonstration? I can make some breakfast for you all! Jannie and I haven’t eaten yet, so I can make some nice food just to prove my point! Crêpes, strawberries, maybe a bit of jam… Virgil, you can be my sous chef! What would go well with the crepes?”

“Something with protein,” Virgil answered, “like bacon. And some fruit. But I’m not helping you make it.”

“Come on! Vergilius, Virgin, Virgie— it would be just like old times!”

Virgil hissed at him, then stormed off into the living room. Remus heard him flop down onto the couch, then turn the tv on. Logan looked at Remus, clearly curious.

“Old times?” Logan questioned. Remus waved his hand.

“Well who do you think taught Virgil how to cook? Janus? He can’t cook to save his goddamn life!”

“I’m right here, you know,” Janus said.

“Am I wrong? You burn or overcook everything.”

Instead of answering, Janus grumbled and poured himself a cup of coffee. Remus opened the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon. Crepes would be too hard to make while having conversation, and croissants were french enough. With a flick of the wrist he summoned a frying pan, and put it on the stove. Patton hadn't moved since the start of their conversation.

“Do you want to help?” Remus asked. Patton looked nervous to say the least, but awkwardly stepped into the kitchen. Remus shrugged, and cracked a few eggs into a bowl, quickly scrambling them. He put a bit of butter into the saucepan.

“You can start on the bacon,” Remus said. He passed the bacon and a frying pan to Patton. They stood awkwardly close to one another.

“How are the croissants treating you, Remus?” Logan asked. Remus smiled, watching the butter melt, then sizzle. He tilted the pan around, then poured in the egg.

“Oh it’s going swimmingly! Like a fish, or a shark! Do you know lobsters have teeth in their stomachs? Imagine if humans had teeth in their stomachs and you chewed things after swallowing them! And your stomach growling was just the teeth at work?”

Patton cringed, slowly laying the strips of bacon into the pan. Remus smiled as Patton looked at Logan with his big brown eyes screaming ‘help me, oh god.’ The pan had started to heat up, and the bacon crackled while the eggs cooked. Remus mixed them slowly.

“How did the process of laminating the dough work?” Logan asked.

“I just have to wrap butter with the dough. Pretty fuckin’ simple. I haven’t done it yet, but it’ll be easy. Even Jannie could do it!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Patton asked.

“I requested that Remus make croissants after, oh, bumping into him last night. The night before last?”

“Twenty four hours ago,” Janus answered, “and since you didn’t stick around— the lamb was delicious.”

Patton looked at the pan, then at Remus.

“Remus, kiddo, I uh, don’t mean to be rude—“

“You couldn’t offend me if you tried, puffball.”

“Uh. Right. What I wanted to ask is, um. How do you know how to cook?”

Remus cackled, smiling bright as he mixed the eggs. They were starting to cook a little bit, but he kept stirring slowly.

“How do Logan and Jannie know all about philosophy? How can they teach Thomas things while also existing as a part of them?”

Patton opened his mouth, then closed it. He shifted a little away from Remus.

“Well… I don’t know? Maybe it could be like, uh. Logan said you were a bunch of thoughts he was guilty about, like the bad imagination, so maybe since he used to feel guilty about not cooking, you got all those cooking skills! That could be how! Or— or from the Hello Fresh ad that Thomas did in your video!”

Logan walked over to the coffee machine, pouring himself another cup.

“Do you want any cream or sugar, Logan?” Remus asked. Logan shook his head with a tight lipped smile.

“Remus’ existence is as a part of Thomas’ imagination,” Logan said, “I don’t see how cooking would be a part of that. And, him asking Virgil to cook with him like ‘old times’ implies that Remus knew how to cook before the video was published. In my very humble opinion, if anyone would know how to cook well, I think it would be Virgil and Janus, since they act as Thomas’ self preservation. So Remus knowing how to cook is a surprise.”

“Janus cannot fucking cook, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a million times!” Remus said, “once he put wine in a bowl and said it was soup. And once he made a Bloody Mary and said that was a soup, too!”

Logan made a face as he sipped his coffee. Janus shrugged, leaning back in his chair.

“What’s the difference? I mean, a Bloody Mary has tomatoes.”

Remus giggled, and that was the final nail in the conversation’s coffin. They cooked in silence until the food was done. Patton made himself and Virgil a plate of food and scurried off into the living room, and Janus returned to his room since he’s already eaten. That left him and Logan in the kitchen together. Logan started to make himself a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I’m surprised that Virgil didn’t rip my throat out with his teeth upon seeing me. And I’m surprised Patton didn’t scurry away like a little bunny rabbit! I promised that I would make Jannie rabbit. Do you know Janus has two cocks?”

Logan blinked slowly.

“No, that I did not. I’m also surprised that that encounter went as smoothly as it did, especially since, as you said, Virgil and Patton both dislike you.”

“Couldn’t’ve said it better myself, teach. I’m surprised Jan and Virgil didn’t get into a hissy fit. Ya know where they both hiss at one another? It used to happen all the time. Honestly it’s fun to watch as long as you have a bag of chips. Can I offer you something to drink?”

“Water, if you could.”

“Not orange juice? Or even another cup of coffee?”

Logan straightened his tie, looking awkward as ever.

“I’ve had enough coffee to wake me up for the day, any more would be excessive.”

“Why not indulge?”

“It’s not healthy.”

“Who said anything about being healthy? We are literally pigments of Thomas’ figmation—“

“—What?”

“Shut up. But we’re ligaments of Thomas’ dictation! We don’t have to worry about his health and wellness. That’s up to him to manage. We don’t have to care.”

Logan gnawed on his lower lip.

“I must be a good example for Thomas and the others,” he reasoned.

With a snap of the fingers, Remus summoned a glass of ice water with a lemon wedge on the rim and set it in front of Logan. He watched intensely as Logan picked the glass up, the ice quietly clicking against the glass. Logan sipped, eyes slipping shut. Remus rested his chin on his hand, staring at Logan with a dopey smile. The lemon smelled nice.

He wanted to grab Logan and… something. The already blurry thoughts became already blurrier. Before him, Logan had his eyes shut. He was helpless. Truly. Like a wildebeest at the watering hole, ready to get snapped up in the jaws of a crocodile. Or held really close. Or torn apart. Or something. Remus picked up a piece of bacon with his bare hands, and ate it. He licked the grease off his fingers.

“So, how do you think me being here will fuck up the chart?” Remus asked after a painfully long silence. He’d almost finished his plate. Logan straightened in his seat.

“Well. I doubt that Patton and Virgil will spend as much time as they do in the kitchen. Same with Roman. But we haven’t seen much of him.”

Remus snorted. God, his brother was such a fucking drama queen.

“Roman gets his feelings hurt once and he gives you all the silent treatment and sulks about. My whole existence is an insult, he can fucking suck it up!” Remus crowed.

Logan raised his brows and blinked, lip twitching.

“Sorry, what did you just say?” He heard Virgil growl. Remus looked away from Logan to see Virgil at the sink, washing his plate.

“I said, and I quote; ‘Roman gets his feelings hurt once and he gives you all the silent treatment and sulks about. My whole existence is an insult, he can fucking suck it up!’ And I’m not wrong.”

“Yes you are,” Virgil growled, “Roman has every right to feel the way he does since he doesn’t deserve to take any of yours or Janus’ shit.”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“God, don’t you realize that we’re literally the same person? I’m just the bits of Thomas that you’re scared of. Lower your hackles, pussycat. I’m just trying to make cross-i-aints.”

“It’s pronounced croissants!” Virgil snapped. Patton stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Who’s to say?” Remus drawled.

“I’m to say!”

Remus giggled.

“Oh come on, Virgil, I thought you hated Roman? Not as much as I do, of course, nobody hates him as much as me—“

“That’s changed,” Virgil growled, “A lot has changed.”

“You know what hasn’t changed?” Remus asked, standing up. “I’m still Creativity. Imagination. Passion. Just like Roman. He has everything, and still acts like that isn’t enough for him because he’s a selfish motherfucker.” Remus paused. “Selfish. Shellfish. Speaking of shellfish— Did you know clams can’t see or hear? Like Helen Keller! But am I wrong? Am I? About Roman being selfish, I mean. I know I’m not wrong about the Helen Keller thing.”

Virgil glared at him.

“Yes, you are. Roman was the one to choose to go to the wedding. See, Remus? You’re always wrong. You are evil and perverse, nothing but a fucking nuisance. So shut up before I make you shut up.” Virgil shifted, standing up straight. “I’m not scared of you anymore.”

Remus tilted his head, smiling.

“What’re you gonna do, you two-eyed no-horn walking purple penis eater? Punch me? I’m a peppermint of Thomas’ amalgamation or whatever it’s called, a punch won’t do anything.”

Patton stepped into the space between Remus and Virgil, hands raised and an awkward smile plastered on his face.

“Look, I think we should take a few deep breaths, calm down… this has gone far enough. Okay?”

Remus looked in his eyes. Yup, he was scared. Remus grabbed one of Patton’s hands and licked it. Patton recoiled with a squeak, wiping his hand on his pants.

“Why are you even here?” Virgil asked.

“You already asked that, dick-nips.”

“Come on, kiddo,” Patton whined at Virgil, “he just made us breakfast. We can talk about this. Sit down and have a nice conversation. It’ll be okay—“

A hand touched Remus’ shoulder. Remus flinched hard, turning to see Logan, staring at Virgil cooly.

“Need I remind you both that Remus is a part of Thomas? We all are. And we have to share the kitchen. We need to learn to exist together. Deep breaths, Virgil. He’s not here to hurt any of us. He can’t hurt any of us.”

Virgil took a deep, slow breath, staring at the floor.

“Clams, like Helen Keller, are technically immune to flash-bangs,” Remus proclaimed.

The kitchen went silent for a moment. Virgil rolled his eyes and threw open the fridge. He grabbed a jug of orange juice, and drank straight from the jug, much to Patton and Logan’s dismay. Remus smirked, and sat down at the kitchen table. Logan joined them, then Patton, who stared at Virgil.

“What?” Virgil said. Patton gestured to an empty seat at the table.

“He made us breakfast, and he… Logan’s right. He is a part of Thomas. Sit down, kiddo. Please? For me?”

Virgil huffed. He looked at the fridge, then at Patton, then at Remus, again.

“Fine.”

Virgil put more eggs and bacon on his plate, then sat at the table. Remus cracked his neck.

“Stress eating, Virge? I haven’t seen you do that since—“

“Since Thomas was ten, before that choir concert.”

“You made him eat until he got sick.” Remus recalled. Virgil sighed, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Yeah, I remember. Poor kid. He didn’t go to school the next day since I convinced him he was horribly sick...” Virgil shook his head, then looked up at Remus. “Wait. That was before the split. You weren’t you back then, were you?”

Remus snorted, smiling at Virgil. Oh, he remembered being whole. All that power and control over the world around him, like a raging fire. He drummed his fingers on the table.

“It’s like, erm, a Jackalope,” he explained, “With the antlers and the whole bunny thing? Or, uh, you know what scratch that. It’s like putting a dog and a bunny in a wood chipper!”

Patton squeaked in horror, eyes wide.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Virgil asked sharply. His hands tightened on the edge of the table.

“Well,” Remus responded, “the meat of the dog and the bunny get all mixed up, and you could make, like, a sausage of it. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a mix of two meats. Two meats, one sausage. So yes, I was me back then, just… not separated.”

“That makes sense,” Patton said, “Like how Garnet is made of Sapphire and Ruby.”

“Incorrect,” Logan said, “a garnet is a gem made of—“

“I was talking about Steven Universe, Logan.”

“...oh.”

Virgil slowly let go of the table.

“That makes sense. That you would remember, I mean.”

The table went silent again. Virgil ate a bit of his bacon.

“Remus,” Patton said. “When did you start cooking?”

Remus watched Virgil pick at his food for a minute. He could taste the awkwardness in the air. A perfect palate cleanser.

“Who, me?” He started. “Well after Roman and I broke apart and I got punted into Thomas’ subconscious, I started smashing shit. Left and right. I destroyed all of the imagination I had authority over, I broke every single plate and cup in the kitchen—“

“So that’s what happened! You broke it! And here I thought it was an earthquake!” Patton exclaimed. Remus glanced at him, and he sunk back into his seat.

“Anyways,” Remus continued, “I tried, once the anger faded, to give Thomas ideas. To have my creations be made, have an impact, out there in the real world. Every single fucking idea scared him. No matter how hard I pushed and pushed and… then the anger I had returned full-force. Jannie was the one to suggest I cook. I learned to make something new after destroying. Since cooking is truly destructive. It’s taking something that’s already okay and beating it into submission, heating until the flesh crackles and the fat melts into grease, it’s smashing berries and breaking bones, pulling skin and fur from meat. It… yeah. And that’s when I started cooking!”

Remus smiled brightly, but his smile was met by the other three… not smiling. Virgil looked down at his plate, focused on his bacon. Patton’s eyes were teary and big, but even then he leaned back in his seat, as if bracing to run. And Logan just stared at him, mouth opening and closing.

“What is it, teach? Octopus got your tongue?”

“It’s nothing,” Logan said, “just parched.”

He sipped his water. The table remained silent, none of them brave enough to break the silence Remus had made. Honestly, Remus couldn’t figure out what the big deal was. So what he’d destroyed everything in his path for a solid three years after being yanked apart from Roman? His anger had been nothing but righteous, and it hadn’t exactly faded. But he’d found his way to cope— by destroying things, and making mosaics out of the pieces left over. God, he sounded fucking pretentious.

Footsteps, slow and steady, came from down the hall. Remus perked up, excited to get Janus in on this conversation. He practically froze in his seat when he saw who really stood there.

In the doorway of the kitchen stood Roman, in his boxers and a white robe. Remus stared right at him. Roman’s tired eyes went big when he saw him. Remus imagined he was quite the sight, what with the pink apron and all. Roman’s eyes flitted from person to person, growing wider and wider. Virgil and Patton stood.

“Kiddo, it’s okay,” Patton soothed, “come here, please.”

Roman backed away, then ran out of the kitchen. Patton chased after him, but Virgil lingered at the table for a second.

“Fuck you and your fucking bacon,” he snarled.

“You have a bit of grease on your face,” Remus said. Virgil flushed and wiped at his cheek before turning and leaving, chasing after Patton and Roman. Logan casually checked his watch.

“That’s strange,” he said, “it’s nine twenty-three. Roman usually comes into the kitchen at ten thirty. He was an hour and seven minutes early.”

Remus shrugged. He didn’t really fucking care.

“He doesn’t usually run away from me,” Remus said. Logan shrugged.

“He probably thought we had replaced him with you. But who am I to say? I don’t understand him on a good day.” Logan said.

Remus blinked. Logan sipped his water.

“You… really seem nonchalant.”

“It’s not my problem unless Thomas decides it is.”

Remus snapped his fingers as Logan sipped from his drink, watching him sputter as the water turned to white wine.

“What—“

“You’re acting like a stone cold bitch,” Remus said, “and I know full damn well you care. Hell, I’d say you cared too much about everything. You care about Roman. Now go fucking act like it before I pull your tongue out through your teeth.”

Logan sipped the wine slowly.

“I don’t care. I don’t have feelings—“

“You literally cried in front of me last night. That bullshit won’t work on me. Now go.”

Logan opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it. He stood and left the kitchen.

Remus snapped his fingers. The wine in Logan’s glass turned back into water. He sighed and flung the refrigerator open, taking the dough out as well as the butter. He laid the rectangle of butter in the middle of the dough, then folded, folded again, following the steps of the recipe. Hopefully, the dough hadn’t been chilled too long. He folded it once, twice, then put it in the fridge again.

Thirty minutes to rest, then he had to fold again. He hoped he didn’t fuck it up.

—

Thirty minutes passed. Laminating the dough was a quick process. The next thing he knew, he was tucking it back into the fridge. Now it was ten o’ clock. An hour until Janus would come get a cup of tea and lunch. Janus always liked to make lunch himself, or at least try. Most of the time Remus made it for him and Janus paid him in a cup of tea. But an hour was such a long time to be alone! Remus did a handstand. His apron fell in his face.

None of the others had come back to the kitchen after they ran after Roman. And he hadn’t talked to someone since they left. So to put it simply, Remus was horribly, horribly bored. For a moment he considered searing some rabbit to draw Janus out of his room. But Janus probably wouldn’t be able to tell it was rabbit by smell alone. Remus stood back up, staring at the stove. He’d been so bored that he’d cleaned, and all the leftover bacon and bacon grease were in the fridge. He’d eaten all the eggs.

Remus sighed. He’d paced the kitchen back and forth, too nervous about the dough to sink out and too bored to think of something to do other than pace. If only he had someone to talk to…

Suddenly, an idea hit him like a brick to the face. Remus flapped his hands about, then rushed to the fridge. He yanked it open and rifled through the fridge, pulling out some bok choy. He pulled out some leftover chicken stock and ginger. He grated the ginger into the stock, then started chopping up the bok choy. He didn’t really know if it would work— the dish or what he had planned — but he could hope. He set the bok choy in a frying pan with a dash of sesame oil, chopping up a bit of chicken and garlic to go with it.

The meat had started to cook when he heard someone deeply inhale behind him. Remus turned around, already knowing who would be there.

“Orange,” he crooned at the shadowy figure crouched on the table, “it’s always a pleasure to see you!”

Orange tilted his head. It was hard to look at him, since he liked to keep his appearance a mystery. At least Remus could assume they would probably look alike, since they were all regiments of Thomas’ fixation or whatever. Remus tilted his head the other way.

“You were the one that called me here,” Orange said.

“Called you here?”

“You know I love bok choy.”

Remus smiled at him, turning back to his pan.

“I’m making what I hope is going to be a nice, like, chicken soup? With some bok choy. I might add dumplings. I don’t know.”

Orange inhaled slowly. He exhaled right by Remus’ ear. Remus giggled at the sudden sensation.

“It needs more time to cook,” Remus chided. Orange hummed.

“Why do you still keep doing this? Cooking. Every day. You do not need to eat, nor do you need to drink.”

Remus cackled.

“You needn’t eat or drink either dumb fuck!”

“Bok choy is an indulgence,” Orange replied. He appeared floating above the stove, his shifting face right in front of Remus’.

“So is cooking. I just so happen to indulge a lot.”

“Why eat three meals like a real person? You don’t need it.”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“Plants don’t need to flower.”

Orange stared at him quizzically.

“Yes they do.”

“Fruit doesn’t need to be sweet.”

“It just so happens to taste sweet.”

“It’s a little prank of fate, my Tangerine Dream,” Remus said, thwacking Orange with his spatula, “fruit is sweet, plants have flowers, and I like to cook. It might not make sense, or it may. Humans enjoy the sweetness of fruit and the smell of flowers, and I do this solely because it’s what I love, which is a valid reason to do it.”

Orange suddenly was behind him, breathing down his neck.

“You do it to run from the emotions you hold. I can sense it inside of you. The hatred. The anger. The grief. Overpowering and strong.”

“Like ginger. Shit, I think I added too much.”

Remus dipped his hand into the boiling broth, and took a little sip. Oh, that tasted heavenly! He licked each finger clean of the golden soup, except for the middle finger. That he offered to Orange, turning around and sticking it up at him.

“Is it too strong?”

Orange picked a bit of bok choy out of the pan, and put it in his mouth.

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Remus turned back to cooking. Orange definitely wasn’t the best conversational partner he could think of, that would probably be Janus or Logan, but he hated being alone and Orange’s presence was good enough. They were the only dark sides left, they might as well get along.

“So why cook?” Orange asked, “Not just for yourself, but for the others, too?”

“You remember what the Grimacing Grimace said?” Remus coughed, then spoke in his best Virgil impression. “‘Not every thought has to have some profound meaning’ or whatever he said. So I just did it.”

“...Grimacing Grimace?” Orange asked.

“Yeah, like the weird McDonald’s mascot thing.”

“No, I mean. Who were you referring to. I wasn’t there for that conversation.”

“I was quoting Virgil.”

“Virgil the philosopher, or Purple?”

“Purple.”

Orange nodded.

“But what is your motivation?” Orange asked.

Remus looked at him.

“Uh, bitch, I don’t have motivation on a good day. Nor does my brother. Maybe depression runs in the family—“

“I’m not talking about that!” Orange spat, “I’m asking you why you so suddenly decided to go play house with the others the moment Yellow got a seat at the table. What, are you scared that he’ll leave you too? Like Purple? Like Red?”

Remus added the bok choy and the chicken into the soup. He mixed it vigorously, eyes locked on the golden broth. It needed salt. That he’d add last. What it could really use was a grain or starch or something, something grounded. Wontons? No, he missed his opportunity to add that to the dish. Rice. Rice would go well with this.

“I don’t know,” Remus said calmly, “am I scared?”

“Scared of what?”

Remus practically jumped out of his skin at the sound of Janus’ voice. Looking over, he could see Janus in the kitchen doorway, staring at him curiously.

“Scared of nothing!” Remus exclaimed. “Salutations my sweet-and-sour serpentine slanderer, what brings you to the kitchen?”

“Tea, of course, what else?” Janus asked. Smirking, he ruffled Remus’ hair as he walked past him. Remus turned his focus back on the soup as Janus grabbed his favorite mug from the cupboard, and filled it with water. Remus snapped his fingers, and the water spontaneously boiled, letting off a plume of steam before settling down.

“Lunch and conversation with your favorite person, that’s what else. Is that the right way to phrase that?”

“Oh Remus, when did I say you were my favorite person?”

“I just know I am,” Remus said with a smirk.

“I absolutely loathe you, and you make my life a living hell.”

Remus smiled.

“Oh, Jannie, I’m positively blushing!

Janus rolled his eyes, but his smile was bright. Remus stirred the soup a little more, then took some instant rice out of the cupboard. He poured some into a pot, added water, and summoned a plume of green flame. The water instantly boiled, and the rice cooked in a flash. It certainly gave Remus a face full of steam.

“What’s for lunch, Gordon Remus?”

“Asian-inspired chicken soup with rice.”

“Asian-inspired? How much of Asia? Asia is a very large place, Remus.”

“I don’t know what else to call it!” Remus exclaimed. He poured each of them a bowl of soup. “I fuckin, cooked the chicken and put it in the broth. There’s sesame oil and like, other shit.”

He set the soup on the table, one bowl for himself and one for Janus. Remus grabbed two plates from the cupboard, and gave them each a bit of the rice. Then, he sat, and dug in, eating with his hands. Janus, meanwhile, summoned a pair of chopsticks.

“So,” Janus said, elegantly sipping his soup.

“So?” Remus said, mouth stuffed with rice.

“How are the cross-i-ants?” Janus asked. Remus swallowed the rice, then squinted at Janus.

“They’re called croissants you stupid little bitch.”

Janus delicately plucked a piece of chicken from his soup, then threw it at Remus, who leaned back and effortlessly caught it in his mouth. The chair tipped backwards, and Remus slammed into the floor with a thud.

“Are you okay?” Janus asked.

Remus gave him a thumbs up from the floor, then righted the chair and sat.

“I’m very okay! And so are the Croissants! They’re chilling right now. I need to reread the recipe. But I think they’re gonna come out super well!”

“I’m happy you’re enjoying this so much,” Janus said. He sipped his soup, and then his tea.

Remus chugged a bit of his soup, choking on a piece of bok choy.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Messing with the light sides, making lots of food— it’s a good time. Can’t say I’ll do it every day, but it’s a nice change of pace!”

Janus nodded. He picked at his rice. Over the years, Remus had learned a good deal about snake-human hybrids, or whatever Janus was. Janus would have a big meal every day, usually breakfast, then nibble at everything else Remus made him.

“Speaking of a change of pace,” Remus said, “why don’t you ever eat your food raw? Like a real snake?”

“It’s undignified. I doubt you’d care.”

“Nope! Not at all. Did you see Roman? I’m pretty sure he left the kitchen crying after breakfast!”

Remus giggled. Surprisingly, Janus didn’t seem very amused. Instead, he furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, “he came into the kitchen at like 9:30 and saw me then fucked right off! As he should! Logan said it wasn’t in his schedule for him to be there that early— oh and I told Logan about my little idea and he said that if you took Patton’s place it would probably emotionally scar Thomas or whatever but I still think you’d do a much better job than that washed up slap-happy pappy.”

Janus blinked.

“Okay. One thing at a time. Uh. I’m not taking Patton’s place. While he is misguided, he’s trying his best. Everyone has their flaws.”

“He’s an earthworm,” Remus reasoned, “Squishy and crushable but also necessary.”

“Exactly!” Janus exclaimed. He rewarded Remus with a soft smile before continuing. “But all that aside, I think that Roman’s absence and his shock upon seeing you is my fault.”

“Because of the whole evil twin thing? Yeah, I know—“

“He probably thought you were taking his place.”

Remus barked out a laugh.

“What?”

Janus nodded.

“His place. In their ‘famILY’ or whatever they call it.”

Remus picked up a fistful of rice, shoving it in his face before chugging down his broth.

“I don’t want a place in their fucking whatever. He can take their love and he can have it. They’re scared of me, they hate me. Even Virgil does.”

“Logan doesn’t.”

Remus grinned.

“No, he doesn’t. But I don’t want Roman’s place. Even if I could take it, I wouldn’t. How about you? If you could permanently take Patton’s place, get all the love and attention that he gets, or at least, like, get that in general, would you? What would you do for that love? People have done much worse for much less— I mean Judas sold out Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, so what would you do for everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Remus had leaned across the table. His bowl of rice had spilled on the table. Janus stared blankly at him.

“All I want is for Thomas to have a good life.”

“We all want that. What would you do for that?”

“Unspeakable things,” Janus said, smiling softly. Remus beamed back at him, sitting down in his chair. It was a little weird since he wore only the apron.

Footsteps from down the hall, and Patton stepped into the kitchen. He froze at the sight of Remus, but managed to give a little wave to Janus.

“Do you want me to get you some tea, Patton?” Janus asked, standing from his seat. Patton mutely nodded.

“I have you pegged as a Jasmine man,” Remus said, doing his best Uncle Iroh impression. Then he giggled. “Haha, pegged.”

If Patton looked uncomfortable before, he looked very uncomfortable now. He smiled softly, and Remus returned it with a sharp toothed grin. Janus, meanwhile, filled another cup with water and held it out to Remus. Remus snapped his fingers, and a burst of fire erupted from the teacup, followed by steam.

“There, nice and hot!” Remus exclaimed. Janus put a teabag in the cup, then picked up his own tea, walking over to Patton.

“Patton and I will be talking in the common room, Remus,” Janus said. Remus nodded.

“Actually, I’d uh, like to talk to Remus for a little bit,” Patton sheepishly said, “alone, if that’s ok.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. Remus shrugged.

“Go ahead padre,” Remus practically purred, “lay it on me.”

Janus snorted, then left the kitchen, leaving Patton and Remus alone together. Patton nervously tugged at the sleeve of the hoodie wrapped around his shoulders.

“Uh, I want to talk about breakfast—“

“I knew I should’ve cooked the bacon for less time!” Remus shouted, “Virgil loves his bacon burnt to a fucking crisp, so I have to unlearn that after cooking for him for god knows how long.”

“It’s not about the food, the food was wonderful! It’s, um. About you and me?”

Remus blinked.

“Come again? You and me?”

“I mean— an apology. I’m sorry for how breakfast went, with Virgil picking a fight. I guess I’m still a little scared of you, but I shouldn’t be, since you’re a part of Thomas too. And Virgil was totally out of line. I’m sorry.”

Remus chuckled. He snapped his fingers, and all the plates on the table floated into the sink. Then, he stood, smiling at Patton.

“I don’t need to be apologized to. And Virgil has every right to be angry at me. I honestly wish he had thrown the first punch, that would’ve given me an excuse to beat him over the head with a frying pan until his skull was concave.”

Patton stared in horror at Remus.

“Kiddo,” he said softly.

“What I’m trying to say,” Remus continued, “is that I’m a stone cold slut. I don’t want to be a part of your family. I’m not your kiddo. I don’t need to be apologized to. We’re like coworkers, and nothing more. Go back to being scared of me. It’s much, much more fun!”

“No,” Patton said, “I’m not going back to being scared of you. I’m just trying to be nice! And— and you’re being a big bully. Why can’t we get along?”

“Because you despise me.”

Patton took a step forward, slowly reaching his hand out. Remus raised an eyebrow.

“What the fuck—“

“A handshake,” Patton timidly explained, “since you say we’re coworkers.”

Remus smiled, and firmly grasped Patton’s hand.

“For a silly little puffball, you surely have a pair of cojones. Well, you wouldn’t be a father if you didn’t.”

“Huh?”

A laugh burst out of Remus’ mouth, and he squeezed Patton’s hand, shaking it rapidly. Patton squeezed back, then leaned closer to him, grabbing his shoulder tightly.

“Listen,” Patton whispered intensely, “I’m trying to be nice, I really, really am, but remember this: If you ever threaten one of my— if you ever threaten my kiddos again, or hurt them, I’ll— I’ll end your miserable existence.”

Remus wheezed in surprised hilarity, yanking away from Patton’s hand on his shoulder. God, a death threat? He’d never gotten one from Patton before!

“Janus is a horrible influence on you!”

Patton flushed, letting go of Remus’ hand.

“He said I should be more uh, decisive? Decisive and direct. I think that’s what he said. And I don’t want the people I love to be hurt.”

“They’re not people..? Logan said it himself, object impermanence kinda stops me from doing anything permanent. But it is fun to scare you until the papa bear pops out. Black bears can run up to like, twenty five miles per hour. Isn’t that neat! There is no escape from a black bear.”

“I hate this conversation,” Patton quietly squeaked. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ditto. Let’s make like coworkers, and only talk when it’s necessary, and not waste energy by actively hating one another.”

Patton nodded. He stepped backwards into the hall, and gave Remus an awkward wave before running off into the common room with Janus. Remus sat down at the table, shaking his head.

An apology. Patton had offered him an apology. The last thing he wanted from Patton was an apology. Honestly, he could only think of three people he wanted an apology from. Virgil, Roman, and Thomas. Virgil and Roman abandoned him. And Thomas locked him away.

Remus sighed. The dough was done. All folded nicely. Now came the four hours of waiting.

—

Unsurprisingly, neither Virgil nor Roman came to the kitchen for lunch. Janus stopped in at four for dinner, and so did Patton. They took some leftovers, then ate in the common room while talking about whatever. The hours passed slowly as he sat alone in the kitchen. Remus took the dough out of the fridge. He rolled it into a rectangle, then cut it into a bunch of tiny squares, then triangles, then to smaller triangles. After that, he delicately rolled them into croissant form, then let them rest for an hour. All that was left was the baking, after so much fucking time folding the dough.

The clock said it was about 5:00 pm. Making breakfast had set him an hour back, but Logan had promised he’d come eat the croissants with him. Maybe he was just waiting to smell them bake? Remus flapped his wrist, conjuring a flat metal tray. One by one, he placed the fragile little croissants on the tray. He got milk and eggs from the fridge, and mixed them together. Afterwards, he threw the mixture away because he forgot to crack the eggs before mixing them with the milk. He sighed.

“Are you about to bake them?” A steady voice said. Remus turned away from the bowl of egg wash, smiling when he saw who it was.

“Why, yes, I am! Now, you promised me you’d have one last night. Or the night before. Whatever it is.”

Logan nodded, and sat at the table, watching Remus slather the croissants in egg wash. Suddenly, Remus became very aware of the fact he was totally nude besides the apron. Huh. That usually didn’t happen. What was he, ashamed? Never.

“My observations thus far are very interesting,” Logan said, snapping Remus out of his spiraling thoughts, “Virgil and Roman both did not go into the kitchen after breakfast, choosing to go without food. They don’t need to eat, so it’s not very worrying to me.”

“Is it now?”

Logan shook his head, then sighed.

“Well, I’m worried about how their… mental health will affect Thomas.”

Remus sighed as he put the tray in the oven, then set the timer to twenty minutes. He sat down at the table, across from Logan, watching his eyes glance over him.

“What if we were meat?” He asked. Logan raised his eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

Remus bit back a comment about begging, and thumped his foot on the floor.

“I mean, like, what would you do if you were a human? And you had all the world laid out in front of you, not just the inside of Thomas’ puny, breakable little skull. What life would you make for yourself?”

Logan sighed.

“I can’t say for certain. The only life I want is a lifetime of learning. I guess I’d go to school for chemical engineering, then get a masters in the subject, or in chemistry, then become a professor of chemistry. Maybe even biochemistry.”

Remus leaned back in his chair.

“Sounds pretty fucking solid to me.”

“It isn’t,” Logan insisted, “you know how messy humans are.”

“Like when they’re smashed with a mallet and meat goes everywhere?”

“À la Gallagher?”

“Exactly!”

“I meant emotional messiness, but you’re not wrong,” Logan said. Remus beamed at him, setting his elbows on the table.

“I know I’m not. But go on?”

Logan cleared his voice.

“Say I am a human, and I have my life planned out by the year. Chemical engineering major, graduate school, becoming a professor. This does not account for human things, like the possibility of a depressive episode or a death in my hypothetical family.”

“Depression is a bitch.”

“No, it’s a mental illness. I can say that if it were a bitch, depression would be a chihuahua. A nuisance that makes no sense to me.”

“Depression doesn’t make sense to you?”

“Chihuahua’s don’t either, hence the comparison.”

Remus laughed, eyes wide.

“Really! Oh do go on.”

“Some chihuahuas have a soft spot in their skull called a molera. 80-90 percent of chihuahuas have this spot as pups. Most of the time it closes up. Many people used to think chihuahuas could cure asthma. In the late 1800’s and early 1900’s Mexican grooms would often give their wives bouquets with chihuahuas in them.”

Remus giggled again, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands.

“What’s so confusing about that?”

Logan stared down at his hands, mumbling something Remus couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” Remus asked.

“I said,” Logan repeated, louder, “that I don’t understand how their eyes can be so big. And how so much anger can be stored in something so tiny. Did you know the American Kennel Club used to suggest breeders breed chihuahuas to be as small as possible?”

“Really makes you think of where we draw the line between dog and rat.”

“It’s a species thing. But I admit, I’m curious now. What would you do if you were human?”

Remus snorted. “What wouldn’t I do is a better question? I’ve basically been locked in a tower like Rapunzle for the past twenty odd years.”

Logan’s sincere eyes made him go quiet. Remus honestly couldn’t tell if Logan even cared, but those eyes made him want to scream and flip the table and jump out of the window. Fuck.

“I, uh. I would go to college for writing,” Remus said, “and filmmaking. And I’d get tattoos all over. And maybe some piercings. Things that I couldn’t undo, that nobody could undo. Then I’d write a ton of stories and make movies and scare an entire fucking generation but also make them cry and feel like they’ve never felt before. I don’t know what I would do after that. I’d probably tragically fall from grace, and everyone gets to watch me decay from a distance as my books and movies get weirder and weirder, then at the age of fifty six and a half, I’d disappear and never be seen or heard of again.”

Remus sighed dreamily. The whole situation sounded nice. Logan, however, looked more than a little startled.

“You really have given this thought, haven't you?”

Remus nodded, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ve not just been yelling at Thomas to jump out of a moving car for the past twenty something years, I’ve been doing a lot of shit that he finds scary. But you can understand where I’m coming from, right? Sometimes the best media deals with more mature themes.”

Logan looked away, sitting painfully straight in his chair.

“Thomas doesn’t seem to think so,” Logan said.

“Oh that is bullshit! Avatar the Last Airbender has genocide and like. Propaganda and shit. Steven Universe covers PTSD and war and dictatorships— honestly, he’s not scared of mature themes. He’s ashamed of the ideas, and scared he won’t pull them off well! That’s why he won’t deal with more important subjects in his videos!”

“You don’t know that,” Logan said calmly.

“Then why would he stifle me!” He shouted, standing up so suddenly it knocked his chair over, “Lock me away like a fucking monster! Why would he leave me alone!”

Remus’ eyes met Logan’s.

“Remus, are you alright?” Logan quietly asked. Remus smiled, waving his hands about.

“Hell yeah I am, dick-dork. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“...you don’t seem to be feeling well.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that!” Remus proclaimed.

“There isn’t,” Logan said, “but you helped me, so I feel like I should assist you. Do you want to, um, talk about it?”

Remus’ laugh turned into a sob. He left his chair on the ground, instead sitting next to Logan.

“You’d make a horrible Patton,” he joked, sniffling.

“Do you want to—“

“No,” Remus growled.

“I’m sorry.”

Remus slammed both of his fists on the table, over and over until the pain finally registered to him, stinging and brutal. Then he stopped, as suddenly as he started.

“Why don’t you people understand that I don’t want an apology from you!” He bellowed, loud enough that it hurt his throat. “You did nothing wrong to me! Nothing! There’s nothing I should be mad at you for so I don’t deserve an apology!”

A warm hand settled on his shoulder. Logan’s.

“Yes, you do. It’s not about deserving. Thomas sees everything as black and white, a worldview that led to your neglect. He’s going to unlearn that, learn that the world exists in shades of grey. Until the day he learns enough to forgive you, why not indulge in a bit of forgiveness?”

“I don’t need it,” Remus snapped. Logan squeezed his shoulder. It felt grounding.

“And I didn’t need a lemon slice with my water this morning.”

Remus sat up straight, so sudden he made Logan lurch back.

“Ah fuck. You just. Fuck! You played me like the cheap kazoo I am!”

Logan raised his eyebrows, lips momentarily twitching into a smile.

“Funny. I thought that same thing about you last night.”

“We need to stop saying ‘last night’, like, seriously,” Remus joked, “it makes it sound like we’re fucking.”

“Your apron makes it seem that that is not something you would be adverse to,” Logan deadpanned.

Remus looked down at the apron. Ah, there it was. Fuck the cook.

“God.”

“Religion.”

“Huh?”

Logan tilted his head.

“I thought we were playing a word association game.”

“Well I mean, we have like, twelve minutes until the croissants are all done and baked! We can play a word association game until then.”

Logan nodded, shifting in his seat. Their knees bumped.

“May I begin?”

“Go ahead!” Remus said.

“Star,” Logan began.

“Sun,” Remus responded.

“Earth.”

“Rock.”

“Granite.”

“Countertop.”

“Kitchen.”

“Knife..?”

“Carving.”

“Dismemberment!”

“Dissection.”

Back and forth they went, going from dissection to cooking to flowers, only stopping when the oven dinged. Remus jumped at the sudden sound, which scared Logan, who lurched backwards until their knees no longer touched. Remus looked over at the oven, then at his knees.

“I think the croissants are done! Look at that! Wow, time flies when you’re having fun, holy shit.”

Logan blinked a couple of times, then nodded.

“Yes, it was an enjoyable time. Why did ‘pulmonary’ make you think of ‘plastic’?”

Remus shrugged.

“I didn’t know what pulmonary meant, but you connected it from lung, and I don’t know, it made me think of sarin, then saran, then plastic.”

Logan nodded, brows furrowing.

“You responded rather quickly to that word, I didn’t think you put that much thought into it.”

“My mind goes a mile a minute— lemme get the croissants. And you’re not going anywhere! You promised you’d have one.”

“That I did.”

Remus lept over to the oven, throwing the door open and grabbing the tray with his bare hands, setting the tray on the counter. God, they smelled delicious, baked and golden brown, slowly letting off steam. Logan looked at them with a straight face. For a smart guy, he really acted stupid.

“Fucking hypocrite,” Remus said, “it’s okay to show emotion.”

“I don’t—“

“Literally nobody else is here but me.”

Logan opened his mouth, then closed it again. At a loss for words. Remus sighed, and picked up two croissants off the tray. They felt so warm and delicate in his hands, like a little baby bird…

“Have you ever imagined squeezing a bird in your hands so hard it’s crushed?”

Logan blinked.

“I can’t say I have, but I don’t think it’s worth the mess. Birds belong in the sky.”

“And where do we belong?” Remus said, sitting down at the table. He gave Logan a croissant. “I mean. You have the light sides, I have the dark sides, and we both have the kitchen.”

“Interpersonal relations are not my strong suit,” Logan said, and he left it at that. He gently picked up the croissant, tearing a small piece off before putting it in his mouth. Remus watched as his eyes slowly slipped shut, Logan’s jaw closed as he savored the light, buttery layers of the croissant. Remus flapped his hands about, giggling to himself before taking his croissant and ripping it in half with his teeth. Oh, that’s heavenly!

“Oh,” Remus said, mouth full, “that’s heavenly! I can see why you chose this recipe, goddamn.”

“I chose it to study the habits of the others.”

“It’s not normal.” Remus stated. He looked at Logan, who had opened his eyes, brows furrowed.

“I live with the others, I might as well—“

“Not the schedule, it makes you happy, so it’s meaningful. What isn’t normal is the fact that you have to act all prim and proper all the time for them to respect you. You should be able to let loose, indulge.”

“But what if they won’t listen?” Logan asked, voice shaking.

Remus snapped his fingers. Two glasses of ice cold water appeared before them, each with a lemon slice on the rim.

“Make them.”

“I don’t think I could—“

“You are literally the brains of the operation! Not only that, but you beat me fair and square when I showed up, and I’m absolutely certain you could do it again. I’m pretty sure you could do it right now. You’re a force to be reckoned with. All of Thomas’ intellect in a sad little indigo dressed man. You’re a person, or at least a part of a person. Not a robot. Not a shell. Okay?”

Logan silently nodded. He ate the rest of the croissant, not even chewing, just setting it in his mouth and letting it dissolve. Logan swallowed, then smiled softly, so small Remus almost missed it. It felt like his heart had joined the croissant in his throat. Remus swallowed hard. Then, he smiled back, all teeth, and stuffed the rest of the croissant in his mouth. They ate in silence for a while, simply enjoying the croissants. Logan slowly sipped his water after each bite.

“What should I make next?” Remus asked. Logan looked down at the tray of croissants. Remus grabbed one off the tray, and passed it to Logan.

“Thank you. Why not something with seafood? Maybe paella?”

Remus’ eyes went big.

“Oh, I absolutely fucking love clams and mussels! That’s in paella, right? Yeah? God, Logan, this is why we need to talk more, you fucking genius!”

“Thank you very much. I hate to ask, but would you mind if I took some croissants back to Virgil, Patton and Roman..?”

Remus leaned back in his chair.

“Leaving so soon?”

Logan paused. He stood slowly.

“I don’t have—“

“Go ahead and take them. Just leave one for Jannie.”

“I’ll only need three.”

“Take an extra for yourself, you’re the reason I made them after all.”

Logan froze like a deer in the headlights, hand hovering over the tray. Carefully, he picked up three croissants, then looked Remus in the eye. Remus nodded towards the tray. Logan grabbed a fourth.

“Remus?”

“I’m right here,” Remus said, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head.

“I just wanted to thank you. For the croissants, and for the conversation.”

And he smiled, just a little bit of teeth showing.

Remus felt that strange feeling, the one without direction or space, just energy. Thoughts fluttered through his head, and he wanted to rip, tear, kiss mend, bake, create, destroy—

“I enjoyed every minute of it,” Remus said, throat dry.

With that, Logan waved goodbye, then promptly left. Now Remus sat alone at the table. When would Jannie come for his croissant? Maybe he wouldn’t. Remus drummed his fingers on the table. He could stand from the table, and chase after Logan like a loyal mutt. Or he could go find Janus. Or he could take out the bok choy and split the croissants with a fellow dark side.

Instead, he sat at the table, drumming his fingers, trapped in his head.

He stared at Logan’s glass of water until the ice cubes melted.

—

Thirty minutes later, Janus showed up. He sat down at the table, and wordlessly took a croissant. Remus drummed his fingers on the table.

“Are you okay?” Janus asked. He nibbled the croissant.

Remus snorted, waving his arms around.

“I honestly have no fucking clue!”

Janus smiled and laughed, biting into the croissant. Remus did so, too, and tried to force down the strange, directionless feeling now associated with Logan’s face.

Janus and him shared the rest of the croissants, leaving only crumbs and the tray.

#logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #sanders sides #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sanders side fic #They Share a Kitchen #holy fuck how is this like 10k

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mariniacipher · 3 years

Text

Gone In Sparks And Light

My gift for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange - this was written for @genderqueer-turtle. I really hope you had a merry Christmas and that you will enjoy this gift!

Summary: Looking at an artefact he's stolen from the archaeology lab, Remus finds a way to travel back in time, to a place where he might belong- to the people who could be meant for him.

WC: 3,830

Ships: Remus/Virgil/Logan, ment. Roman/Janus

Warnings: mentions of resurrecting dead animals

ao3

Remus leaned over the examining table and fiddled with his microscope to examine the shard of periwinkle glass. There had been runes carved into them, and the archaeology lab was being so possessive over it. Something about him destroying the delicate work. As if he’d ever be so careless with something so delightfully strange!

He scoffed and let his scalpel run over the glass without leaving even the hint of a mark. “No, I wouldn’t,” he muttered, looking back through the lens of the microscope. He’d stolen it after hearing about the commotion they’d all made- he just had to take a look at it!

Remus startled as he finally recognized the marks on the glass. Fiddled with the microscope’s lens. Examined the piece of glass again. Cursed.

His scalpel traced over the last rune in a sequence of antiquated letters and numbers and signs that could’ve come from his own lab, if it wasn’t for the fact that whoever had carved this had gone even farther in the convergence of spatial displacement with interplanar conjuring than he ever did. And he’d already revolutionized the field with his out of the box ideas.

His hands started shaking where they still traced over a small mark in the glass. A small mistake had been made there that set the equation off, a single line missing to turn it into the very formula he’d dedicated his life to discovering after he got his doctorate.

And now he was just one line away from finishing it, thanks to whoever it was that had carved the periwinkle glass. A laugh escaped him, hysterical and hopeful and disbelieving, shaking his body and- the noise of this scalpel scratching the glass was almost inaudible, but to Remus’ ears it sounded deafening.

He’d perfected the formula, he realized a moment later. He’d perfected it! He’d finished his life’s work at 27, all thanks to that mysterious soul, that mysterious carver of periwinkle glass whose body must’ve left a trace of DNA on this glass. Who had to be replicable and revivable. They had to be!

Remus was ready to take apart the glass and grind it into molecular pieces to enlarge and search through, looking for any trace of DNA he could give the necromancy department and bring them back to life, or get the spectral summoning folks on the case- anything!

This person, this carver-of-periwinkle-glass, they were the only one who could be his match, in a field filled with industrious dimwits and lazy, narrow-minded geniuses. And this shard of glass could lead him to a person with whom he could share his lab. A person who was actually his match, who knew what they were doing just like he did.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment and murmuring the formula to himself, recognizing the inherent rhythm in it- a spell’s melody. Wrapping his arms around himself, he rocked back in his chair, almost hearing the symphony of magic meeting its capturing, of strings weeping and rejoicing.

Without noticing, he raised his left hand in the air, as if conducting the magical energy with the scalpel he still held. The tight bracelet around his wrist started to glow, indicating magic to be near him. Remus didn’t notice that though, too focused on repeating the discovery- their shared discovery! After so many years of solitary work, he’d found a worthy partner, perhaps even a potential friend. No matter that time and space had tried to separate them.

He couldn’t imagine what their life had been like, what they had lived like- if they’d been just as lonely, just as severed from the world around them- if they’d wished for a companion just as much as he did.

His wish, his desire, sent the magic innate to him outward, and the formula gave it a direction. They twisted together and converged to create a beautiful braid of light and sparks, green and dark blue and purple combining with silver thread to hold it all together. It circled in the air, being woven into a circular tapestry that flickered between aether and reality. The silver sparks reflected the light like mirrors, before showing- everything.

Worlds and universes and planes he’d never imagine before and some he had, so different and bright Remus’ breath stopped as he saw it.

But he kept repeating the formula, kept thinking of how its creator must’ve lived, and he saw how the silver mirrors showing the growing portal’s destination shifted, narrowing down their focus: First to only showing images of their plane, then to running back in time, then to finally showing him a small village from hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. Remus could almost see himself there, could almost taste the air and feel the breeze and hear the rain that was pattering down from the sky.

And just as his yearning reached its zenith, the silver sparks started to migrate into the centre of the circular tapestry, moulding and growing it. The portal turned into a single image of the small village, each raindrop glittering silver, framed by a braid of blue, green and purple that bled together at the edges. Remus stopped for a moment to admire it, the breath stolen from his lungs.

Then he took a running start and jumped through it.

Virgil rightened the wool cape over their shoulders and fidgeted with the broad scarf they’d wrapped around their shoulders and head. They were still drenched to the bone, the rain not giving them any hint of reprieve. The wool weighed heavily, damp and disgusting against their skin. Why did the market have to be so far away? They’d left their village when dawn had still been streaking the night sky with pink and purple stripes, to find the parts that Logan claimed he needed.

Now, hours later, they were weighed down with a heavy bag filled with scrap metal, it was almost dusk and they were more than ready to let their husband hang up the woollen layers they were wearing and detangle their hair to braid it out of their face with warm, calloused hands afterwards. Their tired muscles ached for Logan’s familiar touch, to kiss and hold-

Why was Roman outside?

The rain and the darkness would usually drive him inside, to work on his costumes or his lines, and besides that Roman had been glued to Janus’ side ever since they confessed. And the snake was nothing if not consistent in their distaste for anything that went against their hedonistic desires. Virgil would know, they loved to watch them pout as they were dragged out of their comfort zone by Roman, pretending not to enjoy it, just like Roman pretended to dislike it when Janus forced him to take a break. If it didn’t devolve into them making out half the time, they would’ve even called the couple cute.

But Roman seemed to be alone out here, and in what had to be a new costume- it was a stark white robe that shone against the drab houses the storm had turned their village into. It went down to their shins, with a similar white shirt underneath, and Virgil cursed under his breath. Light fabric was expensive, and if his friend had gotten in over his head for his creative vision again-

“Hey, whatcha watchin’ for, hot stuff? You wanna get a piece of this?” The person- not Roman, not at all Roman- grinned, so wide it looked almost painful, shaking his hips in a way that was probably supposed to be suggestive but just let Virgil worry about his thin figure. There was a weird tension in his frame that Virgil couldn’t name.

They frowned, hauling their bag higher up their arm to cross them before their chest. “I’ve never seen you here before, are you passing through?” The white robe wasn’t protecting him from the rain at all and Virgil hoped he had friends in town to take him in.

But the man shook his head. “Yeah, you could say that…,” he paused, before perking up with sudden enthusiasm. “Would you happen to know any scientists?”

Virgil mouthed the strange word to himself before shaking their head. “No, I’ve never heard of that- what language even is that? I never… you’re not part of a cult, right?” They changed their grip around their bag again, this time to have a sharp piece of metal in arm’s reach.

“No! I just- wait, let me think how you’d call it… maybe I should have studied history a bit, before- well, too late now.” The stranger hummed to himself. “I’m looking for a person who’s researching magic! Trying to understand and tame it, all that!”

Virgil sighed. Of course, the maybe-cultist would look for someone of Logan’s profession; they ignored the curiosity the stranger had piqued within themself. “Then come along.” They led the way up their village’s main street and discarded the potential weapon in their bag. “My husband and I’s house is on the edge of town, and I don’t want you to freeze to death because the others think you’re possessed or something.”

The stranger followed him, an obvious bounce in his step. “Does that happen often? I heard about possession, but never managed to get it right! I called on so many serial killers, you wouldn’t believe- the whole ritual is so disgusting, imagine how it’d look if it actually worked!” The smile on his face was positively gleeful. “Everything I read sounds positively horrid, absolutely gruesome and-” Virgil bit back a grin at the other’s open excitement. It’d been a while since they’d let themself be so excited about the more macabre side of magic.

“Oh, you should’ve seen the reception at our wedding. I had gotten a bunch of emus and charmed them to come alive again, to carry some drinks. You should’ve seen the faces of the guests, man, it was great. And they were way better at serving the drinks than the chickens Logan wanted-” Virgil cleared their throat, suddenly growing aware of what they’d said. “Just so you know,” they added, grumbling, shoulders hitching up.

Remus’ grin didn’t soften, but they perked up, finding the other to mirror his own interest in the dirty parts of magic and science. He leaned forward as he caught up to them with an expectant smile. “I do know now,” they said, “but you didn’t mention what spell you used at all! How am I supposed to reanimate my own flock of emus? Let alone my own flock of geese!” The scientist cackled at the idea of unleashing a flock of geese onto the archaeology department. It would be glorious and he had to get back to the present to do it at least once!

Virgil snorted, imagining their own friends’ reaction if they had to cope with a pack of wild geese. “I think you’d be run out of town for that one,” they muttered, but they were unable to hide their smile, small as it might’ve been.

“Oh, like that hasn’t happened before! Do you know I’ve been banned from a different mall on each of my birthdays since I turned 13?” Remus bounced on his feet, rubbing his hands together as if he were a supervillain about to explain his devious plan, just to do something with them.

“I’m Remus,” he added, a moment later, “and I’m pretty sure you’ve no idea what a mall is.”

Virgil shook their head, but they were smiling. “Nah, but like, they can’t be that good, if they’d throw you out.”

Remus froze, turning distinctly pink. “Okay. If you say so.” It wasn’t like he didn’t know what flirting was; in the monster romance books he secretly read there was a lot of flirting! He just. Hadn’t really ever been on the receiving end of it. But… looking at the stranger and their smile, their eyes shimmering with mirth, he’d really like to learn.

Virgil cleared their throat, blushing too. The darkness thankfully did its best to hide it. “I’m Virgil,” they said and hoped they could convince Remus to stay a while. “And my husband’s name is Logan- you’ll love him, he’s great. As long as he’s not forcing me into a storm for his experiments, at least.” They chuckled, more fond than bitter.

Remus nodded eagerly at the reminder of what had brought him here. “You mind telling me about those?” He leaned forward, “I’d love to hear about it.”

Virgil laughed, “don’t tell me you’re another one of those logicians- I’ve already got enough with Logan and his attempts to anger the spirits.”

Remus sputtered. “I don’t want to anger them! Just… get to the bottom of them. Are you honestly telling me that you’re happy with just accepting the ways they work? Just like that?”

“No, I just- c’mon, we’re almost home, talk to Logan about your attempt to get struck by lightning.” But their smile belied the disinterest of Virgil’s words. Just what they needed, really, another person to anger the ones above and below.

The two of them had arrived at the top of the hill the village stood on and could look below: the cliff coast, steep and jagged, the grey sea crashing against it, with a small cottage standing at its edge. The thatched roof was dark with rain and the garden around it seemed to be filled with herbs and flowers, some of which Remus had only seen in archaeological texts.

The scientist ran forward as he spotted those, gasping as he cradled the bloom of a dark blue lily that had supposedly been used to dye clothes with its blooms and season potions with the dried leaves. Remus was almost cackling with glee as he imagined what the people at the archaeological department would say if they heard about missing out on this.

He turned around from where he’d crouched down on the ground to face Virgil, not paying attention to the house. “What’re these?”

“My mother always called them gunny’s blossoms,” came the reply from behind him, and Remus could see Virgil roll their eyes before turning around and standing up to face the other man- Virgil’s husband, most likely.

The man was short- shorter than Remus and definitely shorter than his spouse, wearing a too-big woollen coat that probably belonged to Virgil, under which Remus could spot embroidered robes. He could’ve sworn he recognized some of them from either his textbooks or the designs still so popular in churches and temples, but they were covered up by the man’s crossed arms. “And what should I call you?”

“Remus!” he introduced himself with a bow, exaggerated and clumsy, but he carried it with confidence. “I cannot say how happy I am to meet you- is it right that you are working with making magic make sense? Your spouse mentioned, but- I’ve got to be sure.”

Logan looked over at Virgil, face creased with confusion. His spouse merely shrugged. “I am working on capturing the powers that be into clear, replicable form, yes. Are you in the field as well?”

Remus laughed at the question. “In the field, yes- pioneered a good deal, back in-'' he looked around himself as if fearing to be struck by lightning when speaking his breaking of the laws of time and space aloud. “Can I come in? I’d love to talk to you- you both.” He rocked back and forth on his heels; this was the furthest he’d come in making new frien- acquaintances, right now, he reminded himself, even though it hurt- and he was weirdly jittery. Nerves firing and pores excreting sweat. He would’ve been delighted at the grossness had it been any other time.

But Logan nodded, his curiosity seeming piqued as he exchanged a look with his spouse. There was a new light in his eyes and even though this was the first time Remus saw it, he wanted to keep it there for as long as possible. Judging by the softness that gentled Virgil’s expression, he wasn’t the only one.

“Of course,” Logan finally said, turning back to the door. “You’re free to pick some gunny’s blossoms if you’d like. We have more than enough.”

Remus made a high-pitched noise at the back of his throat, grabbing a handful of them and holding them to his nose. It coloured his face blue and Virgil snorted, not as derisive as they’d wanted to.

“It tingles!” Remus rubbed at the pollen and colour on his face.

“Yeah, that’ll be the rash you’re about to get,” Virgil smiled, as though they weren’t already reaching for one of the vials attached to their belt. “Lo, do you-”

“Yes.” Logan already stood next to them with a rag, wetting it with the tincture Virgil had brewed for their husband less than a week before. They both led Remus inside with ease and the scientist would’ve looked around himself if he hadn’t been so focused on the couple now sitting him down on a chair that had to be freed of fabric- “Virgil, you said you’d clear another chair- and what if someone sat here? The magic you embroidered into this would be completely corrupted!”

“Well, you didn’t notice until now, did you?” Virgil shook their head, “I’ll bet you didn’t eat lunch either. Besides, my magic isn’t so fragile-”

“-It is nonetheless worthy of protection!”

Virgil grumbled in reply to that, but Remus could swear there was a redness to their cheeks that couldn’t be attributed to the cold outside. They crossed the room, folding the piece of fabric as they went.

Remus tried to catch a look at what was painted onto it- were those runes pre-roman?- but Logan stepped into his line of sight, holding the same rag as before, but now it was covered with some kind of liquid. It was kind of sizzling the wool but didn’t seem to burn it.

“Do not worry, Virgil’s version is only so bubbly because it is more fitted to human skin- I’d know, I’ve got it on me at least twice a week.” Logan smiled, fond and soft and so close. Remus watched him, for the first time in his life completely stunned, as the other man gently wiped off the colour from the flowers. He didn’t even notice how his grip on those still in his hands slackened until a few hit the floor. But the wood was already so stained- from potion accidents, runic accidents and cooking gone wrong- that it didn’t make a real difference.

“You, ah-” Remus caught his breath, looking Logan straight in the eyes. They were light brown- a mundane colour, but, for the first time, it reminded Remus of amber, of acorns in the summer, of wilderness in a seemingly calm form. But only seemingly, as the house around him proved. “What’re you working on?”

Logan’s smile grew at that, his eyes shining. “Oh, it’s fascinating- I’m trying my hand at abstraction! You might’ve heard of some magicians in the cities doing it, and I’ll admit their research gave me the base idea, but, looking at their works I’d noticed how contained they all were by only using the written word-”

“-as they should,” Virgil interrupted, but it bore no heat and only caused Logan to continue, louder and decidedly looking away from his spouse.

“BUT by applying some runes and numbers to it I started to get much further ahead- I’m just trying some thought experiments now.”

Remus nodded. “Yes! Are you by any chance working on travelling spells? Because I found some, in-” he rocked back and forth in his chair, fiddling with the flowers’ stems in his hands- “some glass with inscriptions of it, and it led me here when I wished for its creator- I’m from the future, y’see, and I,” he smiled, looking around the house again. Looking at the work desk covered in glass and gems and fragile tools, the corner covered in heaps of fabrics, and thread and needles alongside paints and brushes. Looking at an easel leaning against the construction of glass and metal that looked like a telescope, the tapestries hanging from some walls with painted and embroidered runes, words and old spells. He could spy into another room that was filled with vials and kettles, a chemist’s lab from a long time ago, and he wondered if Virgil’s paints were magic in themselves.

“You?” Logan asked as Remus was captured by the house around him, curious in a gentle way. Remus melted at it, leaning into the hand still cradling his head, despite the blue from the flowers already being gone.

“I’m from the future,” he replied, and something crashed in the background as Virgil turned around quicker than light.

“You’re what?” Their eyes were wide with wonder and they stalked over to them as fast as their legs would take them.

“You have to tell us everything- you said you were working on abstracting magic too?” Logan started flapping his hands as he thought, and the obvious stim made Remus rock again, elated to find the other man was like him. “Oh, would you work alongside me? I’ve been simply stuck at trying to find a way to define a natural element and-”

“-oh, the Gregorian Dilemma? I solved that just a few weeks ago, but you, you figured out how to travel through time and space- you have to explain your process!”

“How do you- I was just about to finish my fine-tuned carving of it-”

Remus nodded- “on periwinkle glass?”

“Yes, how did you-”

“- I found it! It’s what led me here in the first place.”

Logan laughed, stunned and delighted and Remus joined him easily.

Virgil snorted fondly at the display. “But, Lo, you didn’t hear the most important thing yet- he never summoned a thing- they lost it, apparently, in the future. I have to show you how we do it, you would love it-”

“-Yes!” Logan exclaimed. “And you’d get to use-”

“- The new tapestry of luminous elation? I’d thought so too-”

“- “what, like the spirit,” Remus interrupted, and the spouses easily slid into explaining and inviting, just as Remus started explaining and accepting. The three of them didn’t even notice how the time went by until the food Logan had prepared before started boiling over, and they all hurried to the kitchen to clean up the mess and Remus ate slightly-burnt stew with them like it was normal, the three of them making space on the dinner table.

Remus put away the periwinkle glass, enlarged thanks to the cloth it’d been placed on, the formula he’d see through a microscope just hours before now easily legible. It was a magic he had never heard of before, and as he asked Virgil explained, interrupted by additions by Logan and Remus alike but always listened to.

And Remus found himself fitting right in.

#sanders side #dukexiety #analogical #intrulogical #anadukexiety

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imma-potatoo · 3 years

Note

Logan x Janus + confined to bed rest/twisted ankle/hiding an injury

@badthingshappenbingo

Send me a character and a prompt! Please specify ships! No r*mr*m, romantic princexity, U!Logan or U!Janus

Warnings: not telling someone about an injury, infected wounds, wounds in general, implied U!Virgil and U!Patton, not communicating?, ask to tag.

Ships: Loceit.

Promises

----

“Logan I’m fine!” Janus hissed through his gritted teeth, smacking his boyfriend’s hand away.

Logan huffed and rolled his eyes, “If you were fine, you wouldn’t be limping in every step and wincing in pain when you put down your foot! Now Janus, please let me see your ankle!” Logan reached his hand back towards Janus, only this time when Janus tried to smack him away; Logan grabbed both of his wrists in a tight grip. “There. Now sit still and let me help you.” Logan wasn’t happy about having to physically restrain his boyfriend, but Janus had been in pain all week and had refused to accept help the normal way.

Janus hissed once again when Logan pulled up his pant leg, “L-Logan please!” Janus whimpered when his boyfriend pulled his sock down slightly, “I-Its fine. I don’t need your help” Logan pulled the smaller side onto his lap, leading Janus’ hands to his tie in case the rough movements were to be painful. Janus gripped the tie tightly, breaths sharp while Logan rubbed his back in a comforting manner.

“I just want to help you, my love.” Janus breathed slow and steady, Logan chewed on his bottom lip slightly, “I’m sorry, love… this was out of line. You don’t have to tell me.” the blue side spoke softly; regret seeping into his bones as lightly combed through the others sweat covered curls. Logan pulled his pant leg back down and leaned against the wall The duo sat there for a while before Janus nodded against his chest.

“Ok..”

“Ok?” Logan questioned, eyebrow quirked up slightly

“You can check my ankle... Just.. don’t freak out?” Janus looked at him with glassy eyes, his voice was hesitant as Logan rubbed his back up and down.

Logan pecked a small kiss against Janus’ forehead, “I won’t. I promise”

Janus tensed when Logan reached down and softly tugged up his left pant leg. Logan couldn’t help it when his eyes widened.

Small emerald-like scales faded down from Janus’ calf, but that wasn’t the issue; Logan loved Janus’ scales (even if the others had differing ‘opinions’) The problem was that his ankle was purple and swollen, twisted inwards slightly. Logan picked Janus up and moved him closer to him so he could get a better view without leaving his boyfriend’s grasp. Logan reached out and touched the joint, snapping away immediately when Janus hissed and held the tie in white knuckles.

Logan breathed in deep, he promised not to freak out Janus. “Ok. let's get you to the bed.” Logan stood up slowly, grateful that Janus was the shortest of the sides to make carrying him easier

Logan walked slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the side in his arms. Even though the bed was close, it felt like a mile-long walk, and to say that Logan was concerned was an understatement. Janus told him practically everything. So for him to be so adamant that nothing was wrong was strange and unlike his boyfriend. Logan kept his steps calm and even as he met the bed, Pulling Janus away from his chest to lay him on the pillows. Logan sat next to him, the mattress sinking as the blue side looked back down at Janus’ ankle.

It was definitely twisted. And twisted badly. With thick lines of purple, green, and black surrounding the main joint, “Jan- Janus… what happened?” Logan tried not to sound shocked or breathless but was failing spectacularly as he intaked a large gulp of air.

“....” Janus stared at the ceiling.

“Janus please.” Logan grabbed Janus’ hand and stared into his glass like eyes, “was it Roman?” His expression was starting to leak with anger, how could anyone hurt his boyfriend.

Janus shook his head once more.

“Virgil?”

Janus winced slightly, but shook his head.

“Remus?”

Another shake.

“ W-was it Patton?” Logan hated the idea that the fatherly side could injure another side, but he was out of options and no one would touch his beloved.

Janus didn’t react for a minute or two. But then timidly nodded his head, breath shaky.

Logan couldn’t help the furrow in his brows as he squeezed Janus’ hand slightly tighter, without removing his hand he leaned down and pulled the emergency medkit from under the bed. Starting to bandage the ankle, Logan thought for a second or two, things beginning to click into place.

“Did Virgil also help Patton?” Logan grimaced at the nod

“Did they tell you not to tell me?”

Another nod.

“How did they do this to you, love?”

Janus locked hazy eyes with Logan, “They pushed me down the stairs…” Logan traced his tongue over his canine, grounding his rage in the dull pain.

“....”

“Lo? Are you ok?”

“Is anything else injured?”

Janus blinked, “I uh, scraped my shoulder on the railing..” Logan nodded and helped Janus sit up against the headboard, Janus unbuttoned his shirt and let it hang around his elbows.

Logan pushed his glasses up and looked at the long scrape, it was bright red and oozing yellow pus. Red streaks surrounding the wound, because of course the wooden railing would cause an infection. The logical side bit into his tongue harder as he continued to dig in the medkit.

Logan first disinfected it, comforting Janus when he squirmed in pain, then applied infection cream, “I’m going to kill them.” Janus looked at him in shock

“Come on starlight, you don’t mean that.” Janus rubbed the end of Logan’s tie while he pulled out the gauze

Logan lined the gauze up carefully, “yes I do. No one should ever harm you. You deserve to feel safe.”

Janus fumbled a bit with his speech, a small tinge of blush spreading across his face, “still, you can’t kill them starlight. Thomas needs them..” Silence spread throughout the shared bedroom, “Logan, promise me that you won’t do anything”

Logan sighed, “I promise I won’t lay a finger on them love.”

Janus smiled and Logan could feel the amount of love in that simple action. The smile was wide and grateful as the yellow side leaned forward to kiss the tip of Logan’s nose. Logan chuckled slightly as he held out two small blue pills, to which Janus took happily and fell back onto the pillows with Logan's help.

“I love you Logan.”

“I love you too Janus.” Logan slid off the bed and walked to the other side, snapping his fingers to make the lights shut off as he slid into the bed. His love curling up to his chest.

Janus was right, Logan wouldn’t lay a finger on Virgil and Patton...

But he would tell Thomas about them.

59 notes · View notes

iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years

Text

stars in the sk(eyes)

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, background Intrualiceit Warnings: Language, food, like 1 line that’s maybe suggestive but also said half-jokingly Word count: 5592

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Logan has always loved stars. Virgil has always loved music. Maybe they can put those together with a little help from some friends.

Notes: Day 2 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. Patton, Janus, and Remus are all nonbinary folks who use he/they pronouns and masculine terms in this universe (but in the flashback scene, Janus is only using they/them); Roman, Logan, and Virgil are all men who use he/him. (I know absolutely nothing about music or concerts or anything, so please don't roast me too hard for any inaccuracies, lol.)

They were only opening the concert; the real attraction was a band from out of town with a midsize following, making a stop on their tour. Not that Virgil was complaining to have landed this gig. It would be the biggest performance his band—the band he, Janus, and the twins had formed a few years ago—had given, by a lot. And that was exciting. Sure, Virgil had absolutely spent hours stressing over how big it was, but he knew how to manage his anxiety, especially when it came to performances, and the anxiety didn’t stop the excitement.

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” Logan had told him earlier that day as he’d been getting dressed, passing his fingerless leather gloves and then holding his jacket for him to slide into. He’d spoken it with a simple, unassuming confidence, as if it were a given fact. It had been more comforting than Virgil thought Logan knew.

With the memory of his husband’s words carefully nestled against his heart, and the jacket Logan had helped him paint rainbow stripes on sitting on his shoulders, Virgil found it easier to let go of the anxiety. Some lingering tension remained as he paced backstage, running through lyrics in his head and triple checking that everyone knew the schedule, but it wasn’t as bad as usual. Most of it, if he was being honest with himself, wasn’t even about the performance—it was about the surprise the band had put together, the surprise Virgil had had to bite his tongue a couple of times to keep himself from thoughtlessly mentioning it to Logan, even though the surprise had been almost entirely his own idea and the others were just helping. But he’d successfully kept the secret, and now Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and there would be no more chances to spoil it.

But Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and the final round of jitters was setting in. And when Logan wasn’t there, Virgil’s jitters took the form of pestering the hell out of everyone in the room, to make sure everything was perfect.

He checked all the instruments, giving Janus’s keyboard a once-over without touching because he knew better by this point. Remus’s drumset was already on the stage—he was drumming with his fingers on the end of the fallout table in the corner—so there was nothing to do about that. Roman was actively tuning his guitar, so Virgil left that alone too and instead checked his bass, just in case it had gotten out of tune in the last thirty seconds.

All of the instruments were fine, great, even, and Remus and Roman were undeniably being productive; Janus, who’d been on their phone in the corner, had stepped out for just a moment, probably to get a drink of water or something.

Things were in order. Which was good. Great, even. But it gave Virgil nothing to do with his restless energy.

“Are we ready?” he asked, jiggling his leg and tracing the pattern of his fishnet tights through one of the large rips in his jeans.

Roman looked up. “Yes,” he said shortly. Roman’s nerves tended to take the form of a very short temper, which didn’t mix well with Virgil’s perfectionism.

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, running a hand through his dark green curls and straightening his denim jacket.

“We all know the order things go in?” Virgil followed up after a minute of tense silence.

“Mmhm,” Remus said easily. Remus, and Remus alone, somehow always managed to remain at ease and unbothered no matter what. Virgil didn’t know how they did it.

Virgil took stock of everyone’s outfits. He himself was wearing fishnet leggings that went all the way up past his waist. Over them he had ripped black skinny jean, and a black crop top splattered with white paint. On top of that, he wore his black denim jacket, which matched the ones the other three were wearing. Virgil’s had the rainbow pride flag painted on the front, all down the lapel area; the rest of the jacket was covered in patches. He checked his makeup, examining the black eyeshadow and lipstick in his phone’s camera; it looked fine. Perfect, even.

Roman was the neatest of the group, made to stand out as the lead singer. He wore the same high-heeled doc martens as the other three, but in white where theirs were all black. He had a tight white longsleeve shirt made of a shimmery material and a matching pair of white pants, and the black jacket contrasting nicely against it all. Roman’s jacket had the aromantic pride flag where Virgil had the rainbow, and the rest of his jacket was painted with red roses all at the ends of long, intricate, thorny stems. His eyeliner was sharp enough to cut, and his curly hair was piled up atop a black headband wrapped around his forehead like a crown.

Janus still wasn’t back, but he’d been on the neater end too, to counter Virgil and especially Remus’s scruffiness. Their outfit was sleek and all black save for a thin white belt around their waist. A black hat with a broad round brim framed their face like a dark halo. His jacket had nonbinary and pan stripes on the front, and thin white squiggly lines running up and down like warped pinstripes everywhere else. (Virgil knew where on the jacket one line ended in a tiny snake head, and where one trailed off into a tail, but you wouldn’t notice unless you knew to look.) They were wearing black lipstick to match Virgil, and winged eyeliner to match Roman, and contour that emphasized the sharpness of his cheekbones; definitely the heaviest makeup of the group.

Remus, sitting in the corner and making noises to themself, was a sharp contrast to his boyfriend Janus’s sleek elegance. His black jeans, splattered with white paint to match Virgil’s crop top, were ripped almost to shreds, open nearly entirely from mid-thigh down to his ankles, with only a few clinging strands of fabric keeping them anywhere in the realm of being pants. The tee they wore—black again, with his own name painted on it in large white letters—was also ripped full of holes, these ones much more deliberate; he’d slashed it carefully with an exacto knife, kneeling on the ground and focusing with their tongue stuck out slightly, until it was exactly how he wanted it and you could catch glimpses of their top surgery scars when they moved. His makeup consisted of dramatic green and black eyeshadow, and his jacket had the trans and polyamorous flags on it—he and Janus, who had nearly identical collections of pride flags between them, had split two and two which color schemes they wanted to use. The rest of Remus’s jacket consisted of a few jagged holes and some incredibly detailed paintings of green tentacles.

The instruments were fine. The costumes were fine. The makeup was fine. What else did that leave for Virgil to fret over as the final minutes ticked away?

“How about the blocking?” Virgil said. “We can go over it again if anyone—”

“I promise we know, Virge,” Roman snapped.

“Come on, kiddo, you know he’s just trying to help!” piped up Patton, Janus and Remus’s other boyfriend, who was suddenly somehow present and sitting in Janus’s lap, his pastel outfit completely out of place amidst the varying edgy styles everyone else in the room was sporting.

“How did you get back here?” Roman and Virgil demanded in unison. Virgil hadn’t even noticed Janus was back, let alone that he’d brought Patton, who was supposed to be in the audience with Logan until the performance was over.

“Oops,” Janus said, not sounding even a tiny bit remorseful as they played with Patton’s dark curls.

“Did you leave Logan alone?” Virgil demanded of Patton, hands on his hips.

“Only for a minute! He’s getting snacks, anyway,” Patton said, wrapping his arms around Janus’s neck. “We both know where our seats are, he’ll be fine.”

“You already have a partner backstage, stop being greedy,” Roman scolded Janus. “Patton, you know we need to focus right now, can you please not distract my horny bandmates until after the show?”

“You sound like Virgil, with all that worrywarting,” Remus commented, snickering.

“Take that back this instant!” Roman demanded as Virgil gave Remus double birds.

Remus only guffawed, looking incredibly amused.

“Seriously, though, uh, Patton, with all the love in my heart: get out,” Virgil said.

Patton wrinkled his nose, but pressed a warm smack of a kiss to Janus’s cheek and hopped to his feet.

“Do I get a kiss?” Remus asked, reaching his arms out hopefully.

“Makeup—” Roman began warningly.

“I haven’t got any on my mouth!” Remus said triumphantly. “Suck it, Jan.”

Janus smiled wryly, fingers rising to but not quite touching their black lipstick that Patton had avoided so carefully. “The prices I pay for beauty.”

Patton giggled, crossing to Remus, clasping both his hands, and leaning down to kiss him sweetly.

“Great, you’re very very cute together but now is not the time, Patton get out and stop distracting your boyfriends,” Roman said, shooing Patton towards the door.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “High strung much?”

“Not all of us possess your—your stupid coolheadedness powers, Remus!” Roman snapped.

Patton paused in the doorway and pointed at Roman, getting out his dad voice. “Hey. Be nice.” The finger moved to Virgil. “Be nice.” His eyes flicked to Remus, then Janus, and his voice shifted to a different tone, half flirty and half joking. “You two be good boys.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I said to stop being horny!” Roman shrieked, chasing a giggling Patton out of the room and down the hall. He returned moments later, Patton-less and fixing at his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy. “We had better not have any more alloromantic bullshit from any of you until after the show is over!” he announced. “Okay?” He didn’t sound quite as annoyed as before.

“Homophobia,” Remus accused teasingly.

But instead of snapping back, Roman giggled. “Oh, shut up.”

The twins began joking back and forth, Janus making the occasional amused interjection. Evidently Patton’s intrusion into the room, although technically unhelpful, had done wonders to break the tension, and Virgil reminded himself to thank Patton later.

Virgil’s phone buzzed with a text from Logan.

Logan: Patton found me, don’t worry. Logan: How are you doing?

Virgil: hahahahahaaaa i don’t wanna think abt it

Logan began typing, then the little bubble went away; a second later, the phone began to ring, Logan’s caller ID plain to see.

“Hi, babe,” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, dear. Would you like to walk me through your plan for the performance, to reassure yourself?”

Virgil let out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, please.”

“I am listening,” Logan assured him.

Virgil took a deep breath and launched into a detailed itinerary, knowing that Logan didn’t mind if he got a little too technical in his terminology because Logan was listening for Virgil’s sake.

“And then that’s about it,” Virgil wound down, carefully leaving off the final item from his explanation. It wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise now. “Oh, looks like we’re getting ready now, gotta go.”

“I love you,” Logan said quickly. “You’re going to do a wonderful job.”

Virgil let out a short laugh. “Thanks, L. Love you too.” He hung up, set his phone down on the table, and picked up his bass.

“You ready?” Roman asked, nudging Virgil with his elbow, as the group finally headed towards the stage.

Virgil sucked in a long breath. “Yeah. I think so. Are you?”

“Oh, you know it!” Roman grinned, a spring in his step. He paused after a second and glanced back to Virgil. “Sorry for being so wound up earlier.”

“It happens.” Virgil shrugged. “Right back at you.”

Roman nodded and put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Hey. He’s going to love it. Just wait and see.”

Virgil looked away, half smiling. “I sure hope so.”

“He will, I know it!” Roman insisted as they climbed the steps onto the stage and emerged into what could practically have been the eye of a hurricane, for all the noise and light that surrounded the stage.

The sky above was fully dark; bright lights everywhere in the area contrasted against it. There was a decent crowd. The venue seemed almost full, as a matter of fact. The observation added a thrill of adrenaline to compliment the goosebumps from the chilly breeze across Virgil’s bare midriff.

Roman stepped forward and spread his arms wide right as the spotlights came up. “Hey, folks, thank you for being with us here tonight!” he said, his smile gleaming in the bright lights and his voice booming in the speakers. “We have some great hits lined up for you tonight! Let’s get it started, huh?”

Virgil waited a few seconds for the cheer of the crowd to peak. Janus began the melody on the keyboard; Virgil came in with his bass at exactly the same second Roman began to sing, and Remus picked up the beat on the drums on cue.

Virgil was quickly able to get lost in the music, all his focus on playing and providing backup vocals, leaving him with no more brain space for his anxiety. This was his favorite thing about music: its ability to keep him in the moment.

They played three songs. Two covers that always went over really well, and one song that the twins had written together about family that always left Roman just a little teary. Normally that would be their closing song.

But tonight was a little bit different.

Roman took a step back, nodding at Virgil; the pair of them traded places onstage, putting Virgil front and center.

“So,” Virgil said, the mic on his cheek picking up his words, “we were thinking we’d let you all be the first to hear our new song. Uh, I wrote this one. And normally Roman does our singing, because—well, you’ve heard his voice. But this song is kind of special. I wrote it for my husband. So. We thought I’d perform it tonight.”

As Janus began playing the melody, Virgil searched the front row of the crowd, squinting against the lights, until he found Logan, sitting next to Patton and gazing up at Virgil with shining eyes. “Lo, I love you so much, babe. More than every star you’ve ever shown me.” He took a deep breath and began to sing.

***

10 years earlier

Unknown Number: Hello. This is Janus. Logan’s roommate

Virgil: how’d u get this number?

Janus: I broke into Logan’s phone after you started dating and saved you to my contacts just in case

[read 3:43pm}

[3:46pm]

Virgil: i Virgil: wtf dude

Janus: Your boyfriend has been moping in his room all day, can you please come fix it? Janus: Roman is starting to mope too for no good reason, but he’s doing it in the living room and at this point it is starting to affect my quality of life

Virgil: yk i literally could not care less abt that part u asshole <3 Virgil: i’ll be over in 15 Virgil: is he ok?

Janus: He won’t talk to me, I don’t know what happened

Virgil: i’ll be over in 10

It was normally a 12-minute walk from the dorm Virgil was an RA in to Logan’s apartment just off campus, but Virgil could walk fast when he was anxious or alone, and in this case he was both. Even taking the time to grab a jacket, he still made it to the building in nine minutes flat.

Janus let Virgil into the apartment almost the second he knocked, relief plain to see on their face.

“You see?” Janus said over their shoulder in a scolding tone. “I had to resort to outside measures to deal with your bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Roman whined from where he was slumped on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Netflix on the TV.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Janus demanded, hands on their hips. They dramatically pushed the button to open the microwave door, revealing a limp burrito wrapped in a damp paper towel.

“Lunch,” Roman mumbled defensively.

“You hate microwave food, and it’s four in the afternoon!” Janus snapped.

“I am in a creative slump, Jan! Have some sympathy!”

“No! Get your whiny ass off the couch and stop ruining my afternoon!”

Virgil took a deep breath and pointedly walked in between the pair of them down the hall towards Logan’s room. Roman and Janus’s still-bickering voices faded into the background.

“Hey.” Virgil knocked on the door, which had a piece of printer paper taped to it with Logan’s name written on it in blue sharpie and a couple of stars, both scribbles and stickers, scattered around it. He waited, and when there was no reply, he added, “Are you okay, Lo?”

“I’m fine,” Logan said, in a voice that had obviously been crying.

“Can I come in?” Virgil asked.

“Okay.”

Virgil pushed open the door and stepped into the dim room, closing it behind him. The blinds were closed, and Logan was curled up under a mound of blankets.

“Hey, baby,” Virgil murmured, kicking off his shoes and climbing to sit on the bed beside Logan and stroke his hair. “What’s wrong?”

Logan made a muffled noise of misery into the mattress.

“What?” Virgil said after a moment.

Logan rolled over. “Teacher didn’t like my essay.”

Virgil chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Okay, I promise I’m not making fun of you, but you do know that that is possibly the most stereotypically you thing you have ever said to me, right?”

Logan let out a little huff that was not quite a laugh. “I guess.” He was silent for a moment as Virgil continued to stroke his hair. “And I know it’s stupid. I still got a B+ and my overall grade in the class is fine and I know I’m a good writer and everything. But it sucks. I was really proud of it.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Virgil said, choosing to ignore the squirm in his gut that always happened when grades came up. It was so easy to compare or to worry about others comparing and then to worry about others getting upset over comparisons and—he dragged himself back to the present, forcibly setting the issue aside. “You’re allowed to feel upset,” he told Logan. “About anything that upsets you. Even if you wouldn’t choose it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but after a minute his hand snaked out from under the covers and grasped Virgil’s.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Virgil asked, struck with the idea.

“Huh?”

“A walk. Get out of your head for a little bit and hang out. We can talk if you want, or just be together.”

Roman’s voice grew particularly loud outside, and Virgil picked out a teary, petulant, “I hate you!”

“Plus it’ll get you away from that energy,” he added wryly.

Logan drew in a breath and sat up. “Alright. Let’s do it.” He pulled out a denim jacket while Virgil put his shoes back on and retied the laces. They made their way out of the apartment, hand in hand.

Roman was on his feet now, releasing an angry tirade at Janus, hands clenched into fists and sounding on the verge of crying, the TV remote cast on the floor beside him. Janus was sitting on the kitchen counter with arms crossed and an intimidating glare on their face.

“Hey!” Virgil snapped, and Roman cut off abruptly. “Eat some food,” Virgil told him on a hunch. Sure, Roman could be a little immature at times, but this was on a whole different level, and a lack of food seemed like the simplest culprit.

Virgil looked over at Janus, to make it clear that they weren’t off the hook either. “We’re going out. You two better make up before we get back. Clear?”

“You can’t tell us what to do—” Roman began stubbornly.

“Janus literally called me in to fix all your problems, so yeah. I can. Also open your windows, it’s gloomy as fuck in here.” Virgil opened the door and held it for Logan, tossing one last glare over his shoulder at Roman, who looked dumbstruck, and Janus, who avoided eye contact.

Logan was quiet as the two of them walked down the stairs and exited the apartment building, hands in his pockets (one still clasping Virgil’s) and eyes on the toes of his slip-on shoes.

“Wanna talk?” Virgil asked.

Logan tilted his head to the side for a moment, his thinking face slipping over his features, and then shook his head.

Virgil nodded. “Okay.” He fished in his pocket for his earbuds and plugged them in. “Let me know if that changes, okay?” He received a small nod and turned on his go-to playlist—a 12-and-a-half-hour-long composition of all his favorite emo songs that he could loop without having to put any thought in.

The two of them wandered through the streets, hand in hand, music blaring in Virgil’s ears and Logan’s fingers soft and warm against his. They made their way towards downtown; their university was in a small city, and it was pretty walkable.

As they walked, weaving around and across different blocks, occasionally stopping to peek into particularly interesting shop windows, the tension in Logan’s shoulders slowly began to relax and his gaze migrated from the toes of his shoes upwards to take in the surrounding scenery. Virgil felt himself relaxing in turn. The subdued, almost sullen look on Logan’s face was beginning to shift back to his typical bright-eyed curiosity, which meant that while maybe not all was right with the world, a whole lot was right with the world.

As the sky began to darken, Logan’s pace quickened with sudden purpose—but he didn’t lead Virgil in the direction of the apartment. Instead, he headed in almost the exact opposite direction. Virgil was lost for a moment as to where they were going, until the park in the center of downtown came into view. Ah. That explained it. He was kind of glad; he didn’t feel ready for the quiet time they were spending together to be over.

A scent caught his attention as they entered the park, and he tugged gently at Logan’s arm, nodding towards the mediterranean food truck. A small smile answered him, and a nod, and the pair of them made their way over. They both ordered gyros—Virgil chicken, and Logan, who was trying out vegetarian food, falafel.

Fifteen minutes later, seated side by side on a park bench and finishing the last of their sandwiches, Logan cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Virgil bumped his shoulder against his boyfriend’s. “Of course, babe.”

“I am feeling… better,” Logan said cautiously, as if he were testing out the words in his mouth to see if they felt true.

Virgil nodded. “Better is good.”

Logan nodded, eyes moving to the sky, which was now almost fully dark except for a streak of orange sunset leftover on the horizon. The stars were out, at least the brightest ones that could be seen even past the floodlights placed every so often across the park.

“You like space, and shit, right?” Virgil said, scooting closer to Logan and dragging his arm to wrap around Virgil as he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. It was a bit of a rhetorical question, since he knew Logan had an astronomy minor and was the vice president of the astronomy club and had gone on no less than three eager rambles about space in the last month alone, but one could always do with a conversation opener.

Logan blinked and looked down at him. “I do.” You know this, his tone said, a little puzzled at the question.

“What star is that?” Virgil pointed at a particularly bright one, although he wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to the star as he was to Logan’s face.

Sure enough, Logan brightened, his eyes more interesting than any star. “Oh! That’s not a star at all—it’s actually Mercury!”

“Really?” Virgil asked, grinning and scooting closer.

Logan wrapped his arm a little more tightly around Virgil’s shoulders with an answering smile. “Yes, and it’s actually very fascinating…” And just like that, he was off, words spilling out of his mouth at a breakneck pace, gesturing eagerly with his free hand to emphasize his points.

Virgil listened, doing his best to follow along and asking a few questions whenever Logan started to wind down, but mostly just happy to watch his boyfriend’s lips as he excitedly infodumped, and his eyes, too, alight with delight, the frustration of the disappointing grade all but forgotten as he held Virgil and told him stories about the night sky.

It was nearly ten at night by the time they made their way back to Logan’s apartment, chatting back and forth in quiet voices and giggling. Logan broke off as he opened the door and got a look inside; he glanced over his shoulder at Virgil and put a finger to his lips.

Virgil hushed and followed him in, then saw what the need for quiet was: Janus and Roman were asleep on the sofa, Roman sprawled on his stomach on top of Janus with his limbs everywhere and his face buried in Janus’s chest, Janus with their arms wrapped around him and a throw pillow propping their head up and a worn copy of Crime and Punishment flopped over from where it had clearly been propped up on Roman’s back.

“Precious,” Virgil commented softly as Logan picked up the book, tucked a bookmark off the coffee table into it, and set it down with the tender care he seemed to reserve exclusively for books and Virgil.

Logan smiled. “They are, rather.” He looked down at his roommates. “Sometimes I wonder why I picked the two most dramatic people I know to live with.”

“Sometimes like this afternoon?” Virgil said with a chuckle.

Logan snorted. “Maybe. But then they do things like this, and I remember why I like them.”

Virgil noticed something on the tiny kitchen table. “Or this?” He pointed.

Logan came over to examine what Virgil had found. “Oh,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his face.

A plate of cookies sat on the table, together with a hastily handmade card.

“Sorry :( ❤️” it read in large, expressive cursive, and beneath it in smaller, neater handwriting, “I actually didn’t do anything wrong, but these are for you and I did the dishes, also you’re welcome for the date night.”

Logan laughed quietly, taking a cookie and offering the plate to Virgil, who accepted one cookie—they looked to be snickerdoodles. “Yes. Things exactly like this,” he said. He took a bite of the cookie and raised his eyebrows. “Not bad.”

Virgil grinned and leaned over to kiss him. “Not bad at all,” he agreed, pulling away.

“I literally gave you your own cookie,” Logan whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but it tastes better this way.” Virgil winked, mainly for Logan’s reaction—he pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling an amused smile that was still visible in his eyes. “I should go,” Virgil added, glancing at the time. It was Sunday tomorrow, so he didn’t need to worry about how late he was up, but he disliked walking home at night.

Logan nodded, taking another cookie and pressing it into his hand. “Text me when you get home?”

“I always do,” Virgil said, accepting the cookie and a goodnight kiss that still tasted just faintly of cinnamon and sugar.

And he did just that; he always felt a little awkward simply texting “I made it home,” or the like, so he usually tried to come up with interesting questions to send to Logan instead. Tonight, it was:

Virgil: hey Virgil: if u could pick one Thing u always wanted to do Virgil: and get a guarantee that u’d get a chance to do that thing no matter what Virgil: what would u pick?

Logan: Fascinating question! I would like the opportunity to name a star. Logan: I don’t imagine it will ever happen in real life, but I’ve always thought it would be… cool, for lack of a better word.

Virgil: ghfdkjghksdhj i will never be over ur love for space Virgil: u have a Brand and u stick to it

Logan: Well, a brand is important in life. :-) Logan: What about you? What would you pick?

Virgil: i think it’d be neat to be in a band Virgil: idk Virgil: like i don’t wanna be super famous or anything but like Virgil: being in a band would be neat Virgil: yk?

***

Ten years later, Virgil sang the last lines of his song looking right at his husband. “And I don’t even need to look to the skies/Because all of the stars are in your eyes.”

The noise around him didn’t fade away like in the movies; to the contrary, the cheering was so loud it was almost hard to focus. But Logan’s face was absolutely alight—Virgil couldn’t be sure at this distance, but he thought Logan might even be tearing up—and he was looking at Virgil like he was his whole world. Even with the bright lights and overwhelming sounds all around, it was easy to focus on Logan in the midst of it all, Logan pressing a hand to his mouth but smiling too wide for anything to hide it, Logan leaning into the side-hug that Patton—oh, and there was Patton, right beside him—was offering, but never taking his eyes off Virgil. Logan looked so happy, even though Virgil knew concerts weren’t really his favorite type of event, and Virgil was hit right in the chest with a renewed realization that Logan was Virgil’s whole world and damn, Virgil wanted to make sure everyone knew it.

But their time onstage was up, and the next few minutes were a bustle of packing equipment away and cleaning up the space they’d been allotted backstage, and it all went by in a bit of a blur, helped along by the remnants of Virgil’s performance mindset and slight overstimulation—though that was getting better now that he was offstage.

Virgil took a quick break, when the bulk of the urgent work was done, to just stand in the empty restroom and breathe for a moment, the noise of the other band who were now onstage thudding in the background so quietly he could hardly hear it. When he’d fully composed himself, feeling much calmer, he took a deep breath and headed back out.

On his way out, he ran into Roman, pushing a dolly with a box on it. “Oh, good, there you are,” he greeted Virgil. “Can you—oh, for crying out loud,” he broke off, looking ahead.

Following his gaze, Virgil snickered as he saw Remus, leaning against the wall with their hands clasped behind his head, grinning down at Patton, who was leaned forward, bracketing Remus with his arms, looking up at him and speaking, although Virgil couldn’t hear him from here.

“We still have work to do,” Roman said under his breath, but the exasperated gaze he leveled at the pair was altogether far too fond to have much real bite.

Virgil’s mind was on other matters; if Patton was here, that meant—

“Lolo!” Patton’s voice called brightly; he’d seen Roman and Virgil and stepped back from Remus, waving happily at the pair of them. “Virgil’s here!”

At the sound of Patton’s voice, Janus emerged from the room, a little further down the hall, that had served as the headquarters for the band. He bent to give the tiny man a kiss, then turned to Remus for another kiss.

Logan popped his head out just a moment behind Janus. “Virgil?” He brightened when he saw Virgil’s face, and stepped fully out into the hall. He hadn’t changed from his work outfit, still wearing a button down with the sleeves rolled up, a tie, and a pair of jeans, and a smile that he looked like he couldn’t wipe off his face.

He was still the handsomest man Virgil had ever seen.

Virgil looked to Roman. “Permission to get back on my alloromantic bullshit, captain?” he asked teasingly.

Roman rolled his eyes and swatted Virgil’s shoulder. “Go be cute,” he said benignly.

Virgil took off down the hallway to Logan, not quite running; Logan took a few steps to meet him, and Virgil caught him in a hug so eager he actually lifted the taller man off his feet for just a second.

Logan, half-laughing with surprise, grasped Virgil’s shoulders for balance as he regained his feet. “You wrote me a song?”

“Did you like it?” Virgil asked, holding him tightly.

“Virgil, I—” Logan seized Virgil’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Virgil wrapped his arms more firmly around his husband, kissing him back exuberantly and swaying slightly back and forth.

“It’s perfect,” Logan told him, breaking away only just far enough to speak. “You’re perfect.”

Virgil grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through Logan’s neat hair. “Careful, you’ll spoil me.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that,” Logan told him seriously. “It’s not spoiling if you deserve it.”

And really, what was Virgil supposed to do about that except kiss his husband again?

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