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exhaustedfander · 4 years

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Can I request a Moceit fic where Janus is trying to impress Patton, it fails each time, but they get together anyway?

Here ya go! This was a fun one to write, I absolutely adore these two! Feedback and reblogs are really appreciated, have a nice day/night!

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My writing masterpost

word count: 2,196

To Woo Morality [Moceit]

It was stupid, really, to think that winning Patton’s heart would be an easy endeavor. It’s not as though they’ve been on the best of terms for most of their existence, indeed they’d been considered enemies for some time. Just because Janus was now accepted by Patton and he’d received an apology card from Patton for everything that had been between them – it really was a nice card – didn’t mean that they were immediately on the best of terms.

Janus didn’t mean to fall for Patton. Any positive feelings he’d felt for the moral side in the past had quickly been pushed to the back of his mind; Jesus, Janus should’ve known better than to think repression would work. But now that they’ve been spending a lot more time with one another, Janus can no longer ignore the affection that blooms in his chest when he’s in Patton’s presence.

At first, he’d been under the impression that even if they were becoming friends, Patton would want nothing to do with him in a romantic-sense. They’d just be pals, and Janus’s heart would just have to burn a little more with each passing minute together. Except…recently, Janus has noticed a shift between them. It could be in his head, though he highly doubts that, but it seems as though Patton has seemed somewhat more nervous in his presence. It’s little things, hands accidentally making contact earning a blush, lingering hugs that the moral side just seems to melt into, passing glances that clutch at Janus’s heart and a look in Patton’s eyes that he prays is admiration.

For some time, Janus has been telling himself that perusing Patton is a horrifically bad idea. He and the others are by no means on good terms. Logan tolerates him as far as he’s aware, but he has impersonated him a few times now. Things are decidedly very shitty between him and Roman, and conversations between him and Virgil usually end in hissy-fits. Remus has been a friend to Janus for some time now, someone who while strange and quite a bit to deal with also knows him better than most, so having his company is somewhat of a relief. He’d like to tell Remus of his feelings for Patton, but if he knows his friend, and he does, it will only end in an onslaught of teasing and Remus running to Patton blabbering. That just won’t do.

The idea of the others knowing of his feelings for Patton was something that, truthfully, concerned Janus. They're fiercely protective of their fatherly figment; who wouldn’t be? It had held him back, thinking of how they’d react. But it’s those moments of hesitation, lingering hands, lingering eyes that push Janus over the deep end. He’ll seduce Patton or die trying. The only question is how.

Janus’s first attempt is a gift. Nothing fancy, but rather innocuous and simple in case things go belly-up. Unfortunately, they do.

“Aw, Jan, you’re too sweet,” Patton coos, holding up the frog stuffed animal with a gleam in his eyes that Janus foolishly sees as promising. Patton sets the plushie down and wraps him in a tight hug.

“I’m so lucky to have such a good friend!” Yikes. That’s not quite what Janus was hoping for.

“Likewise, I’m pleased to call you my friend as well,” Janus says as he pulls away, far smoother than he assumed the words would come out. “I’m glad you like it.”

And then, Janus is back to scheming. The only problem is, he's never been very good at scheming. Sure, he might seem like the type to pull together an elaborate plot, but most of his best work is done on the fly. But impressing Patton can’t be improvised, he tells himself angrily, passing the length of his bedroom, it has to be perfect. So he thinks. And he plans. And he overthinks.

“A picnic?” Patton asks, excitedly. Janus grins, already proud of this plan.

“Yes, if you’d like to join me,” Janus offers, suave. Yes, this will be fine.

“Well, I’d love to, kiddo,” Patton says energetically, and Janus tries his best not to wince at the “kiddo”, “Only…you’re talking about picnicking in the imagination, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Janus replies.

Roman and Remus’s realm is the perfect place for a romantic picnic. With lush, rolling hills of green and skies as blue and beautiful as baroque paintings, it’s the best place Janus can think to woo the moral side. There are fantastical beasts, most of which harmless, at least on Roman’s side of the imagination (save for the dragon witch, but she hasn’t been seen for some time). They’d be sure to steer clear of Remus’s more unruly section of the realm. But then he catches the look on Patton's face.

“Is there a problem?” Patton huffs, fiddling with the end of his shirt. Goodness, that’s not a good sign.

“Oh, I’m just worried it might upset Roman,” Patton explains, “I know you two still have a lot to work out. And Remus’s side…well, I’m not too sure if I want to encounter anymore of the horrific monsters that live there. Once is enough for me.” Damn it, why did Remus ever have to drag Patton on a quest, and why in the world had Patton agreed?!

“Ah, that’s…understandable.” Janus set the picnic basket down, trying to hide the hurt that was surely showing on his face. For a liar, he sure was getting bad at masking his emotions.

“Oh, Jan, I didn’t mean to make you sad! I’d love to still have the picnic, if you still want to. Just somewhere else, maybe?” Janus does what he can to hide how deflated he feels, nodding and forcing on a smile.

“Sure, Patton. The common room, or one of our rooms, perhaps?” Janus flinches as Patton grips onto his wrist. His grasp isn’t hard or painful, just startling.

“C’mon, let’s go to the common room. Maybe someone else will want to join us too.” Janus couldn’t shake the hurt that sentence provoked if he wanted to. Even so, he picks up the picnic basket again and allows Patton to lead him away.

Later Janus sits at his desk, his head in his hands. Why does it have to be so hard? Why can’t his efforts be enough? He’s seen it, surely, he’s seen a twinkle in Patton’s eyes that has to mean something. Or maybe he’s just been far too optimistic. Perhaps the idea of Patton having any interest in him is absolutely preposterous.

Plans flutter through Janus’s mind, gifts he could give, attention he could provide him, but none of it matters in the end. It’s all sure to fail – god, when did he get so depressing?

Janus sighs looking at the clock: nearly 12 am now. He’s been holing himself up in his room since the picnic. At least Patton seemed to be having fun, and Logan even joined them for a bit. That certainly didn’t thrill Janus, but the smile it brought to Patton was something he couldn’t discredit.

Reasonably, it’s too late for a snack. But he’s also imaginary, and moreover, doesn’t really give a shit.

He doesn’t expect to find Patton in the kitchen and considers turning on his heel before the moral side catches sight of him.

“Oh, hiya, Janus,” he greets, friendly as ever, “What are you doing up so late?” Janus bites back a sigh, walking into the kitchen and eyeing Patton.

“I could ask you the very same question.” Patton giggled sheepishly.

"I suppose you could. I couldn’t manage to fall asleep, and I’ve always heard warm milk might do the trick,” Patton explains, holding up a mug, “But boy, this stuff’s nasty. It’s no cowincidence I’ve never been much of a fan.” Janus chuckles lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter. “So, what about you? What brings you to the kitchen this time of night?” “Same as you, I suppose,” Janus says, hoping Patton won’t challenge his vagueness, “I found difficulty sleeping.” That isn’t entirely untrue. Perhaps it was because he was getting lost in his failed plans, but Janus still hadn’t been able to sleep. It seems that Janus has lost his desire for a snack, as seeing Patton is only upsetting him more. He doesn’t want to be like this, so at the mercy of his emotions, and it’s driving him near-insane.

“I think maybe I’ll try again, though. Goodnight, Patton.” “Wait.” Janus pauses in the doorway, turning back to see Patton worrying his bottom lip.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” Patton sounds uncharacteristically anxious, something that strikes Janus as odd, “I just wanted to…thank you, I guess.” Janus quirks an eyebrow.

“Thank me?” “For being so sweet lately,” Patton clarifies with a flickering smile, “I mean, you’ve been so nice, getting me things, and having a picnic, and just sitting and talking with me as much as you do. Things were so bad between us for so long, I know I’m a lot of the reason why –.”

“We’ve already had this conversation before, Patton. It’s okay,” Janus interjects.

“I know we have, but it doesn’t make me any less sorry. But I feel really lucky that we get to hang out as much as we do now. It’s really nice, you make excellent company.”

Janus half expects himself to fall into a love declaration right then and there. Patton, always so kind and well-meaning, is thanking him for all the extra work he’s been putting in trying to get Patton to notice him. Evidently, he has noticed him, just maybe not as much as Janus wants. It’s selfish, he realizes, to desire so much, so soon. He needs to stop his futile attempts to win Patton’s heart and simply enjoy what he can get.

“It’s not nearly the same as everything you’ve done for me,” Patton splutters, pulling something out of his pocket and pressing it into Janus’s gloved-hand, “But I made you this.”

Janus looks down at the blue and yellow bracelet, the two colors woven tightly together. Janus half expects to start weeping because, yes, this is a friendship bracelet, but it’s also something that Patton has made for the others, but never him.

“I hope you like it,” Patton says nervously, messing with the sleeves of the cardigan tied over his shoulders. Janus slips the bracelet onto his wrist and, in a very un-Janus-like fashion, engulfs Patton in a tight embrace. Patton lets out a sound of surprise before sinking into the hug, pressing his face into the crook of Janus’s neck.

“I love it,” Janus breaths out, feeling like the luckiest side in the world just to be holding Patton, “Thank you.”

“Of course, I-I’m glad you like it,” Patton manages to sputter out. The hug drags on far too long to be considered platonic. Neither men let go.

“Janus…” Patton trails off, letting go of Janus’s back and instead cupping his face in his hands. Janus could feel the moral side’s hands beginning to tremble. He waits a moment, wondering if Patton has more to say, feeling as though his heart might just beat out of his chest before it's unanimously decided action will speak much louder than words.

The kiss begins feather light, just the slightest brush of the lips before Janus’s fingers dig into Patton’s curls, pulling him as close as possible. There they stand in the low-light of the kitchen, kissing and holding onto one another as if the other might disappear if they let go. Unfortunately, the need for oxygen eventually arises and the two part briefly, smiling wide. Patton ducks his head against Janus’s chest, still holding close to him.

“Wow…” is all that Janus can think to say. Patton giggles.

“Wow is right. I was so worried that you didn’t feel the way I did.” Janus chuckles lightly at that, carding a hand through Patton’s hair.

“That's funny, considering it’s not like I’ve been trying to get your attention for some time.” Patton let out a noise of confusion before catching on.

“Oh, Jan, honey. You could’ve just told me.” Oh, he already likes the sound of Patton calling him “honey.”

“In all fairness, you could’ve told me yourself.” Patton laughs again, pressing his lips to Janus’s again, lighter but much of the heat is still there.

“I guess you’re right. We were being silly, dancing around each other, huh?” Janus hums in response, a content, relaxed sound. “Why don’t you try and get some rest now? You sound tired.”

“Come with me,” Janus requests. It’s suddenly so easy to ask, so easy to show Patton how much he cares for him and desires to be in his company. “You look quite tired yourself.”

“Okay, Jan,” Patton says, releasing him from his grasp before lacing their fingers together. The pair walk hand-in-hand to Janus’s room, both smiling wider than they have in quite some time.

As it turns out, Janus’s plans were not a complete waste of his time. He’s relived there’s no need for anymore scheming, though. He’s got everything he’d ever been searching for.

=+=

#moceit #romantic moceit #patton sanders #Janus Sanders #Janus deceit sanders #deceit sanders #fluff #getting-together #a failed attempt at wooing patton that manages to work out in the end #they're soft and cute #sammy writes #my writing #exhaustedfander #exhaustedfander writes

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sebthesnipe · 4 years

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Starlight

February Prompts 2/27

Prompt List

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The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Karma / Kneel

Ship: Logicality

Note: I had planned on writing another chapter of My Dearest Procyon but a friend seemed to be having a rough day so I wrote here some fluffy Logicality instead.

Logan sat at his desk, back straight with perfect posture as his pen glided across the paper before him. It was late. Far later than Logan typically allowed himself to stay up. He set a strict schedule for himself and he tended to ensure that he stuck to it.

Still, as he glanced at the clock on the shelf above his desk, he frowned. 02:14 AM. His bed time had passed over four hours ago. He adjusted his glasses before focusing back on the written words that seemed to fail him.

“Dear,

Dearest,

My Dearest Patton,

I have recently discovered, I have come to realize, I have many things that I wish to discuss with you, but I do not know where to begin. I have never quite been very skilled at discussing things of an emotional nature. To my good fortune, you have always been there to guide me in the direction needed when the occasion arrived for such things.

I unfortunately find myself to be inadequate in your presence. I can not begin to describe to find to express Despite my intellect and extensive vocabulary, words fail me. It appears that despite my many attempts to discuss the topic of my experience lack of emotional response physical and emotional reaction to your presence, I have failed.

I fear I may have made things worse by attempting to gain some insight into expressing my troubles by speaking to Roman. He does seem to have an innate ability to woo our more somber friend. He claimed that I was incapable of speaking to you about these responses due to his state being ‘shook’. Though, I am not quite certain what he means and why he claims ‘shaken’ is grammatically incorrect, but he made his point clear.

It appears that while I am in your presence, I am unable to think properly due to a number of chemical reactions. I will admit, I had pursued research on the topic for fear that whatever the cause of my lack of judgement, this perpetual state of incoherence may prove to be permanent . Roman assured me that this is karma though it is still unclear as to what Hinduism has to do with any of this.

It would appear that when I am in a close proximity to you, my brain releases dopamine, adrenaline, serotonin, estrogen, and testosterone creating an intoxicating mixture that, in Roman’s words, causes me to ‘ghost’ anyone and everyone near me. I am unsure about his choice of vernacular, but his point was clear.

It is apparent that I care for you a great deal more than I have ever cared for another person. You are the figurative star at the center of my solar system. You shine more brightly than the sun itself. Every time I am gifted with the sound of your laughter, my heart breaks with the overflow of emotions the sound causes.

Furthermore, to compare you to a star is admittedly unfair. Though I have a passion for astronomy, the sorrowful beauty of a star could never measure against your own. Stars are dying structures billions of years away from Earth. Most of which have already died and remain ghosts in the sky. You are nothing so morbid.

Your light and beauty are everbright, never to be extinguished even within the test of time. Your warmth and protection, the light and beauty you bring out from within all of us, these are qualities which will never die. Therefore, you can not compare to a star when a star will inevitably fail.

I fear that even these words prove to be insufficient withmy intention. I am no poet and I do not pretend to be such. However, I am not ashamed to present another poet's words to assist me in my attempt at disclosure.

The words of Geoffrey Chaucer come to mind when I think of the way you affect me. His poem, Rondel of Merciless Beauty, seems to express my feelings towards you adequately:

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;

Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen. Only your word will heal the injury

To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean—

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene. Upon my word, I tell you faithfully

Through life and after death you are my queen;

For with my death the whole truth shall be seen.

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;

Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen…..”

Logan read the words once more, taking in the numerous lines of red ink, striking through unnecessary sentences. His frown deepened before he tore the page out with a frustrated huff. He crumpled the page violently between his hands, tossing it into the already overflowing bin next to the door.

This was utterly hopeless! He was not some romantic protagonist in one of Roman’s poorly written romance novels! There was no reason he couldn’t just walk up to the smaller man and confess his feelings like an adult!

A knock at his door made the lanky individual start, heart pounding against his chest in surprise. He glanced at his clock once more: 02:17 AM. No one should be up at this hour. Even Virgil tended to be in bed by now.

He pushed to his feet, pulling the end of the tie that hung loosely over his shoulders from where he had unfastened it in his frustration after his seventh draft of the letter. He deposited the wrinkled silken fabric onto his desk before moving to curiously pull open the door.

Patton stood just outside the fairly spacious bedroom dressed comfortably in his cat onsie, a steaming mug in his tired hands. He peered up at Logan and offered a small tired smile. Logan’s heart stopped.

“Well, hiya,” Patton greeted, his usually chipper voice a bit sluggish with sleep, “I saw your light on, on my way to get a glass of water. I figured you’d probably be up with one of your late night projects so I brought you a cup of joe, Lo,” he chuckled, shooting Logan a wink.

“I-I…” The taller man stuttered, face flushing in panic, “I.. Yes.”

The answer to a question Patton most certainly didn’t ask, had his brows furrowing. It was obvious that Logan was once again short circuiting, but Patton graciously chose not to comment on it. Instead, he offered the warm mug out to the larger man, giving him another one of those million dollar smiles Logan had just been writing about. The taller man practically swooned.

“You’ve been staying up well past your bedtime lately, kiddo,” Patton commented, glancing down at the bin next to his roommate and the crumpled papers scattered around it. “What a mess! You really have been working hard, haven’t you? I worry about you sometimes,” he continued kneeling down to pick up one of the balls of yellow stationary. “You’re such a busy bee. You really should allow yourself more rest, bee-cause sleep is important,” he laughed as he started unraveling the page, “What are you working on anyways?”

Logan willed himself to move to no avail. He needed to get the paper away from the smaller man! He needed to do it now! Despite his attempts, Logan’s arms remained stubbornly where they were, both gripping the ceramic mug in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were pale.

His body heated with embarrassment as his gaze became glued to Patton’s gentle features, taking in the way his forehead dimpled as he concentrated on what he was reading.

Logan could scream if his body wasn’t betraying him in such a horribly demented way! Why was he allowing this?! This could ruin their friendship! This could be the last time he would be allowed to see Patton because he allowed his emotions to get the best of him! He needed to shut them down and shut them down now!

“Oh,” Patton breathed softly, sending a spike of terror through Logan’s heart. “Oh my.” The spike dug deeper causing the gangly geek physical pain.

“Patton, I can explain-” Logan rushed, finally finding his voice.

“I had no idea you felt this way,” the smaller man breathed, peering up at his roommate, gaze glistening with the threat of tears.

Logan was no longer convinced that a ‘spike’ was a good analogy. No, he was fairly certain that his heart had just been hit with an explosive ice grenade. He had made Patton cry! He would never forgive himself for this! He deserved-

“This is beautiful, Logan,” Patton added softly, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears, stopping Logan’s panic in its tracks. “I wish I had known…”

“You… You think so?” Logan asked lamely, the cup shaking slightly in his hands.

“Of course!” Patton chuckled, pressing the wrinkled paper against his chest. “Are all of them like this?” He asked, glancing down at the piles in awe.

“Well… To some degree,” the taller roommate admitted, taking a step back to glance at them as well. “Some are admittedly more composed than others.”

“Logan…” Patton’s voice cracked around the word, the tears beginning to flow more freely now.

Logan set the mug aside quickly, unsure of how to respond. He was not very good at comfort, that was Patton’s department. He reached out for the smaller individual, knowing Patton prefered physical contact.

“I’m so sorry, Patton. It was not my intention to upset you!” he rushed.

“I’m not upset, Logan,” Patton chuckled wetly, covering his face. “I’m just so happy. I thought I… I didn’t know you… I didn’t know you could feel that way, much less about me!”

Logan blinked at him in surprise. Patton wasn’t upset? No, he could see the small dimples on his cheeks that usually were an indication of his large grin, even though they were currently hidden behind his hands. Patton was smiling. Relief washed through the taller man.

“Patton, may I,” Logan paused, still unsure of himself but feeling his own happiness warm him. “May I embrace- oof!”

He barely managed to get the word out before Patton was slamming into him, arms tightly wrapping around Logan’s waist. The little man was surprisingly solid against Logan’s chest as he returned the hold.

Patton buried his face in his roommate’s dark polo, his tears leaving small damp stains as he breathed in the earthy scent of wood and lavender that always seemed to cling to the other man. It was a comforting sensation that Patton had often found himself thinking about late into the evening when he was unable to sleep.

They remained that way for some time, hovering in Logan’s doorway silently, clinging to one another as if they letting go would cause them to drown.

“Does this mean, if I were to venture an inquiry, to say, dinner this Friday, you would be inclined to accept?” Logan asked finally, flushing.

“Yes! Of course!” Patton replied without hesitation, pulling away just far enough to peer up at him, face beaming with happiness that caused Logan’s breath to hitch. How could one man be so breathtakingly beautiful?

Without a thought, the taller man’s hand lifted to Patton’s check, bending low to brush his lips against the small peak of the other’s nose.

La fin...

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