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greenninjagal-blog · 1 year

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The Rumor Mill Game (pt5)

Long time, no see. :) If you’ve forgotten what’s going on, you can find the previous chapter [here!] Or if you’re new to this, find the start [here!]

Summary: Office coworkers Logan and Remus have created the rumor that they are married and have a son, except that Logan kinda yelled that he didn’t have a son in front of a bunch of people.

Virgil is well....Virgil is going to change that. And he definitely has the blackmail to do it.

Word Count: 8346

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Okay. So. It wasn’t like when Logan and Remus showed up at the restaurant, Virgil expected Logan to want to adopt him. For one thing, Virgil had parents. For another, Logan had never once shown even a remote interest in having a hand in the responsibility of keeping another, living, breathing being alive.

Virgil knew that. He prompted Logan once about it-- because Virgil at his core was a fucking masochist who needed to have his heart ripped out and stomped on sometimes just to prove he knew what life was like. There had been some stupid math homework that he had guilted Logan into helping him with during Logan’s lunch break (like the man wanted to be doing calculus while out eating-- he was a fucking accountant; he already did this all day for his job), and the problem had involved dogs, so Virgil had made up some stupid idiotic story about once owning a dog just to see if maybe Logan might have like a hundred dogs at home and oh yeah, what difference is a child compared to that, right? At least, you know how to feed yourself and can be trusted outside without a leash, sure I’ll take you in, Virgil! Do you want to call me Dad?

Yeah. And somehow Virgil was still failing his creative writing class-- he didn’t understand it either.

Logan didn’t have dogs at home. Or cats. Virgil was pretty sure he didn’t even have dust bunnies.

And Virgil of all people knew what type of burden children could be. You had to give them time and money and entertainment and if you didn’t then everyone would call you a terrible person! Once you had a kid, you really never had time to yourself to do things you liked to do because a kid was always in the way! How many times had Virgil’s mother reminded him that he was preventing her from enjoying her weekend after she spent all week working her tireless jobs and making him food and keeping the house? How many times had his father answered the door and started swearing because he forgot it was his week and he invited his girlfriend over and she didn’t know Virgil existed so Virgil was either going to spend the whole night in his room pretending to be a piece of furniture or his dad was going to have to cancel?

Virgil was a commitment! He knew it! He was another mouth to feed, his growth spurts just kept happening--he’ll never forget the fury on his mother’s face when she found out he outgrew the shoes she got him for Christmas by late January-- not to mention school fees. School lunch? More like School sit-in-the-library-and-tell-the-librarians-he’s-just-not-hungry. His personal finance class was his own living nightmare because he got to listen to every other kid in the entire class complain about how dumb it is that everything cost money, like bread hadn't always cost at least three dollars. There was a girl named Sally who told the teacher that she’d just show her boobs to the checkout clerk to get it for free so that she could keep up with her fictional mani pedi appointment, after the teacher told her she couldn’t just call her dad and ask for more money.

Virgil scored a perfect A on that assignment, if anyone was wondering. The teacher pulled him back after class to ask him if he was interested in going to a seminar outside of class time for the Next Business Owners of America(™) since he was meticulous with his number crunching. Virgil would have loved to, if it hadn’t been three hours away, pay-for-your-own-food, and hey, how about you bring your parents along? I’d love to meet them and let them know what a great son they’re raising!

Virgil had said he wasn’t interested. His teacher had insisted he’d take a flyer anyway, and now it was stuffed in the bottom of his backpack like a forty ton weight he was lugging around everywhere just to see if it really did get heavier as the day in question approached.

((There was still a week left for reservations. There was still a week left for reservations and Virgil was still very certain that if he did go and he didn’t tell his parents, neither of them would notice he’d gone missing and they would never remember him again and then where would he be?))

So yeah, Virgil was a commitment. Any child was a commitment. Basically a blackhole of money. Any self respecting, successful adult could probably take one look at him and think setting a couple hundred dollar bills on fire is less expensive and more eco friendly than trying to take in a teenager.

Logan probably had thought that, too. Virgil wouldn’t blame him for that.

He just… expected it to hurt a little less. But well. Logan had always been straightforward and it doesn’t get more straightforward than “HE IS NOT AND WON'T EVER BE OUR CHILD”.

Virgil liked that Logan was straightforward. He didn’t have to guess through passive aggressive comments or backhanded compliments to figure out what was being said when Logan was talking.

And really it hadn’t even been anything new being said there. Virgil got to stand there and not cry and very calmly ask Logan and Remus to step outside because they were upsetting the other patrons. Yep totally. Just the other patrons. Not Virgil because Virgil had never been their kid and he had his own parents and there were other kids with less who needed more and he hadn’t been going to mention the flyer or seminar to Logan so it didn’t even feel like the kick to the teeth that it should have been.

But if Virgil’s manager was going to give him a paid break to go stand outside and with a free soda and some mango sticky rice the man made him specifically, then Virgil was going to take it and enjoy it and definitely not cry or text Janus about. In fact he took it and he sat out back and wondered how on earth Remus landed a guy like Logan.

Because Logan was cool. He was smart, pleasant and polite and patient and other words that started with “P”. Virgil had seen Remus a handful of times-- just the few that he’d been desperate enough to get out of his mother’s house but didn’t have money for food-- but those times had been enough for Virgil to get a very super good fucking grasp on who Remus Prince was.

He was loud to Logan’s calm, eye-catching to Logan’s plainness, obnoxious to Logan’s civility. Even when Virgil had watched them walk in together, hands together, ring present it felt like someone grabbed the rug from under him and tugged.

Because-- and Virgil meant this from the bottom of his heart-- Remus was a fucking nightmare demon from hell. There were a lot of people who scared Virgil to no end, but Remus? Remus was on a whole other level.

Remus was The Adult(™) that Virgil avoided like the plague, that Virgil memorized the schedule for when he would be at the food kitchen for, that Virgil laid awake at night running scenarios about because Remus would be the only stupid asshole brave enough to blatantly ask The Question.

Because Remus remembered Virgil’s face, remembered what he looked like, what he wore, and where he liked to sit away from everyone else. Remus remembered Virgil like he wanted to when not even Virgil’s parents wanted to remember him.

Because there wasn’t a shadow dark enough for Virgil to hide in that would keep Remus from seeing him, and Virgil didn’t know a single thing that could keep him from asking hey, is everything okay at home?

No it’s not. Thanks for asking. And hey, I know you’re a mandatory reporter, so pretty please don’t call social services because Virgil cannot think of anything worse than being picked up out of everything he’d struggled to build here and plopped into the hands of someone who would insist they knew how to live his life better.

He didn’t want a family that would see him as just another meal ticket: free money from the government to take in the kid who was too anxious to sleep at night sometimes. Even thinking about the bad families-- the die hard religious people who would call him a sin if they knew he was gay, the abusers that might see him as a free punching back that spit out money sometimes, the too-nice,-but too-many-other-kids-to-worry-about-him couple that might only take him in out of guilt and pity-- made Virgil’s heart beat so hard he could barely breathe.

But what was worse was thinking about the good families. You know, the ones that most of the kids at school went home to? A mother who would insist that he wear brighter colors and eat all his vegetables and join every after school program because it looked good on a resume? A father who would insist that he apply to Harvard and Yale and take summer internships across the country or do hard labor outside because it built character? The ones who would say to him hey, you don’t need that job anymore so just go ahead and quit and we’ll supply everything you could possibly want and you better hope you don’t disappoint us like your first set of parents because then we’ll have the power to take it all away!

Logan… Logan was a safe daydream, okay? He was just a quiet guy who came in for Thai sometimes and ate by himself, tipped nicely, and didn’t try to send his food back because it was “too orange”. He was reasonable and knew when to stop asking questions and he probably wouldn’t care if Virgil kept his job and or if he kept wearing black and didn’t try to apply to schools that would probably eat him alive. Logan smiled at him, and helped with Virgil’s homework, and maybe if Logan hadn’t wanted to be the center of Virgil’s very pitiful stupid, secret wishes, he shouldn’t have been the first person to tell Virgil “good job” since Virgil had been eight.

“Fuck,” Virgil said, shoving another spoonful of mango rice into his mouth.

“Oh, please, do keep catastrophizing in my front seat,” Janus said in his stupid ass rich person tone. “I’m certain that will solve all your problems.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil snapped back at him.

Janus stretched back in the driver's seat, hands above his head, folded neatly with those black biker gloves on still, and his shirt riding up his stomach in the way that makes Virgil kinda hate him. He had his eyes closed for the most part of it all; still content to sunbathe in the front seat as he had been doing for the better part of an hour now, but he opened the right just to side eye Virgil in that unbothered way of his that speaks to how amusing he found watching Virgil self destruct to be.

“Darling--” He said.

“Don’t,” Virgil jabbed his plastic spoon towards him threateningly. “Don’t start with me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Janus said. “Only merely ending what has been a truly delightful date with my very wonderful boyfriend who is certainly not-at-all distracted by a problem he has made up in his beautiful amazing brain.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ve known Logan since I was in diapers, Virgil,” Janus says. “He’s almost like a second father to me. You are worrying over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” Virgil said shrilly.

And that is when Janus finally dropped his arms back down and twisted to face Virgil completely. His eyes, which normally were filled with mischief and spite, were floating with a sincerity that made Virgil’s stomach do flips. The freckles on his face were just barely noticeable, the shine of his lipgloss still freshly applied and waiting to be ruined. His dark hair was highlighted with gold stripes, which Virgil knew from experience looked very dashing when hands were run though it.

“Virgil,” Janus said, soft and kind and knowing. “My own father wouldn’t hesitate if you asked him. And you know that there would be a room in my house painted purple with your own kitchen and fridge by three hours after you asked him.”

“Your father plays mind games,” Virgil said weakly.

“Are you still obsessed with the swear jar?”

“I’m not obsessed!” Virgil shot back. “It freaks me out, okay? The whole swear jar being a place that you both put money so that you have funds to pay for something if you didn’t want him knowing you were paying for? That’s like John Kramer levels of jigsaw puzzles. I can’t handle that on a daily basis! My heart would just fucking stop!”

“My father does not have any intentions of testing your will to live,” Janus said flatly. “Or whatever it is that happens in the Saw movies. He runs a company that’s sole goal is to make lives easier and more affordable. When he turns fifty he plans on giving the whole company to me, and then I will wait exactly one week before selling half the shares to you for a dollar and then you can handle all the gross business stuff and I will handle the very funny human complaints.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, actually,” Janus said. “He has it written in his main diary that’s stashed behind the headboard that he’s going to give it to me when he’s sixty, but the secret one he doesn’t think I’ve found yet that is stashed in the false wall behind the washer says fifty. Also the second secret one in the false bottom puzzle box drawer in his office says fifty too.”

Virgil stared at him, waiting a whole beat, but Janus merely raised an eyebrow.

“You understand that’s not normal shit, right?” Virgil asked him. “You understand that your father and you are the most insane people I’ve met, right? Why does he have three diaries? Why are two of them secret? Why do you know there are two secret ones?”

Janus frowned. “There’s three, but the third one is just all about how much he loves me and his billions of lists of things to get for me for my birthday every year. Sometimes I add ridiculous stuff to the list in his handwriting to see if he’ll get me it. That’s how I got my snake.”

“Unbelievable,” Virgil said, staring at him. Part of him was utterly terrified of Janus, of how casually he could say things like that, of how Virgil is pretty sure Janus had the means and the ability to hide his body if Janus decided one day Virgil was annoying him too much, but the larger part of him is just overwhelmed with an embarrassing amount of awe and love.

Something about that must have shown on his face because Janus’s eyes melted like ice cream and his lips curled into a smile that could have coaxed flowers to bloom if their car was parked in a meadow instead of a parking garage.

“I love you too,” Janus said. “Now will you please go into the building and blackmail Logan into being your pretend dad so I can have all my boyfriend’s attention during our dates?”

“Asshole,” Virgil said, leaning over the center console to catch him in a kiss.

Janus hummed enthusiastically, as if he’d been waiting for Virgil to do that all day. Virgil did his best to not roll his eyes.

Janus pulled back first, licking his lips as if to make sure the last of his cherry lip gloss had been cleaned up so that he could apply another coat once Virgil was out of his sight, and finding it satisfactory. “I’m going to eat the rest of your mango rice.”

Virgil handed him the little container, half eaten and not enjoyed quite as much as it should have been due to impending doom. Janus, who was rich enough to have his own plastic spoon, still used Virgil’s. Virgil grabbed the handle of the plastic bag for the other two carry out containers and pulled it into his lap.

“I’m going to get arrested.”

Janus waved a hand. “Get out of my car, Virgil. You can mope when you get back.”

“Pay my bail?”

Janus smiled at him, soft and sunny and causing all the sickening, disgusting butterflies in his stomach to flutter around. Virgil wasn’t sure why, considering he’d also watched Janus eat pavement at the skateboarding park once late at night, and then cry like a baby about it, and then demand that Virgil tell no one about it.

“Always,” Janus said, like he meant it, like he was making a promise, like he loved Virgil and wanted what was best for him even when Virgil didn’t have a single thing to give him in return.

He didn’t realize that he had a stupid smile on his face until he was ten feet from the car holding the bag of take out to his chest like some middle schooler who just got asked out by her crush. He swears at nothing, because of course Janus could draw this sort of reaction out of him over fucking bail money, what the hell. There was nothing romantic about bail money. There wasn’t anything romantic about Janus.

The same way there wasn’t anything nerve wracking about Patton Hart, or terrifying about Remus Prince, or fatherly about Logan Ackroyd.

He nearly tripped and face planted trying to walk into the lobby. His shoe caught on the tile floor and his balance went sideways and his heart jumped out of his throat into his mouth and nearly onto the floor with the mango rice he had just eaten.

There were about ten people wondering in the lobby, doing various tasks: three people in business suits discussing lunch plans, a janitor mopping up an area with cautious signs around it, two people waiting for one of the three elevators, two people at the front desk and a receptionist who was talking to a delivery man from a pizza place across town. And Virgil was pretty sure all of them saw him almost lay himself out on the floor.

It was fine. It was totally fine! If they asked what was wrong with him he would say something like Oh I haven’t possessed a human in at least a century or You guys didn’t see that rat? It was huge! or my plan was to lie my way up to the upper floors but I figured that I might as well give up and let you arrest me now. Do you want to call security or just hand me the phone and I’ll do it myself?

He hesitated on his feet for a moment, wondering if he could get away with going straight into the elevators even though he knows they require a keycard. Janus told him that much in their run throughs while preparing for this. But still the fluttering hopeful part of him was wishing that security risks weren’t a thing and he could just… walk upstairs.

Instead he steeled himself and headed in a direct line towards the receptionist’s desk. All he had to do was convince her to give him a visitor’s badge and let him go upstairs without calling either Logan or Remus who would definitely tell her they don’t have a son.

He was honestly already so lucky they hadn’t announced to the whole building via company-wide email that they didn’t have a child at all. Although the longer he hesitated the more of a chance there was that one or both of them were writing that email right now.

The receptionist nodded to him when he stalled his walk a few paces away from the desk, but continued her discussion with the delivery man. Instead the man and the woman lingering to the side had their eyes on him, watching with opening curious expressions that made Virgil want to hiss at them the way he hissed at the workers in the food bank-kitchen that he visited on weeks when his mother couldn’t be bothered to keep food in the house or his father had forgotten to leave him enough money to buy himself a pizza while he went out on another date.

You know. Before Remus had hissed right back at him and Virgil had realized oh shit, that guy remembered him and this was going to be a problem.

“Watcha doing here, kid?” the guy at the desk asked, taking a sip of his coffee. He was closer than the woman, with a crooked tie and a salt-and-pepper beard that made him look old instead of distinguished or whatever he was trying for.

“I’m looking for my dads,” Virgil said and holy shit this was a bad decision. “Lo-Logan Ackroyd, and Remus P-Prince.” He swallowed nervously, digging his fingers into the boxes of take out and trying hard not to let his spine fold like a chocolate éclair.

The man chokes, nearly spitting up his coffee all over his tie. “No way! You’re the kid?”

“Jeff!” The lady with the frizzy hair hissed.

“What!” Jeff exclaimed. “You heard what Logan said!” The man turned back to Virgil and Virgil forced himself not to take a step back or sprint for Janus’s car or melt into a puddle of human goo or start crying. “Man, that guy really is an unfeeling robot. How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

“Jeff!” The woman yelled. “I’m sorry, sweetheart; don’t mind him.”

“I’m seventeen?” Virgil said. “And it’s.. uh.” He swallowed, glancing at the receptionist who still looked to be deep in the conversation with the delivery man. “It’s-- it’s okay. I know what it sounded like yesterday. It wasn’t exactly… uh… Logan and Remus aren’t my parents!”

The man and the woman were looking at him now, with twin gazes just short of being hungry. Virgil felt distinctly like he’d just jumped into a lake full of piranhas and kindly asked them not to eat him alive, please and thanks. He took a deep breath, trying to untense his shoulders.

What had Janus said? It was like tearing off a bandaid?

“I’m adopted! But my parents, like the real ones, are still around. They just don’t have custody, you know? Logan and Remus do, because they are good people! Totally good people who probab--I mean definitely haven’t committed unspeakable crimes or anything of the like that could be proven in the court of law! But like yesterday, haha, I mean things haven’t always been easy because like, I’m kinda difficult and I don’t call them dad or anything because I have a dad already who is not Logan and I told Logan I didn’t want to call him dad and so he doesn’t really call me son and definitely not his son, you know? He really didn’t mean it like how it sounded because he’s cool and haha, yeah isn’t that like a horrible coincidence that it sounded bad? But he’s-- Logan I mean-- is really good! Really nice and helps me with my math homework. A really, uhm. He’s a good guy. You know?”

The receptionist was looking at him now, too. And so was the delivery man, their conversation entirely forgotten.

Virgil swallowed like he was drowning, wishing that he could shut up because there was no way these all competent adults were going to buy that horrible, terrible story that wasn’t even really a story as much as just a bunch of gibberish tossed out with Logan’s name in it. It was like he hadn’t even practiced with Janus at all. He barely even got a foot in the door before he just started talking! Did these people even know Logan? Or did he just spit out a fake life story to some random people in the company lobby and would absolutely never be able to show his face here again?

“On second thought, I’ll just go,” Virgil rasped out, and turned on his heel, preparing to bolt for the doors before security could be called for the random kid who just tried to buy his way into a company HQ building with cold Thai food and a fake story about fake parents who would never even want to consider being real parents. Would they charge him with espionage for that? Could they? Is there even bail for espionage accounts?!

“Oh no no no!” The woman exclaimed suddenly, putting her coffee directly on the receptionist counter. “Oh honey, I am so sorry! Of course Logan is a good da-fathe-- I mean a good guardian! Jeff and I didn’t mean to make you think we didn’t know that!”

“Did I say unfeeling?” The man said, laughing nervously and tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I meant unrelenting! An unrelenting robot who has nothing but… love… in his…uh heart. Hey, do you think that maybe you could not bring up this conversation to him? I like my job.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Like actually could fucking not. He was going to have to sit down because there was no way that should have worked at all. The woman and the man were doing a piss-poor job of having a subtle conversation under their breaths about which of them was going to get fired as if Virgil actually did have sway with Logan and Remus. The relief was so overwhelming it was terrifying.

Shit, is this what Janus felt every time he made up a lie? If so, Virgil might be able to understand it. He doubted straight ecstasy would come close to this feeling.

The take out boxes creaked in his sweaty, clammy hands as the woman turned back towards Virgil with a too-bright, too-wide smile, that reminded him of his mother when she was on the phone with his teachers who called to let her know that he was failing the class: placating and fake and screaming that she completely believed him and was not even going to bother asking for the other parties side of the story.

“Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey?” she said. “Candy will get you your own personal badge and then you won’t even have to stop around here and talk to us silly old people. Candy?”

“Uh, yeah,” The receptionist said. “I’ll get it to Mr. Ackroyd by the end of the day tomorrow.”

The other woman smiled at him and started guiding him towards the elevators, her badge dangling in her hand. “I’m sure your dads are expecting you, right?”

“It’s a uh…surprise, actually,” Virgil stuttered. “Big surprise.”

“Oh that’s lovely! What a thoughtful son!”

Yep, Virgil thought, swallowing back the urge to vomit all over her knockoff Christian Louboutin pumps (and the fact that Virgil knew they’re knockoffs is equally nauseating, damnit Janus). The thought, though, just for that moment, gave Virgil something to focus on (Janus’s stupid face, the taste of his lipgloss, “I’ll pay your bail.”). He clung to his take out boxes, and stood at least three feet away from the woman, and tried not to feel like he just entered the elevator to hell when the doors slowly rolled shut.

The woman might be talking to him, chatting with her pleasant and polite voice that does nothing to actually put Virgil at ease. Janus probably would be in his fucking element right here, probably soften her up further with a few on-the-spot made up stories that make him out to be a humble yet high achieving son (only half lies: Janus was high achieving, but the day he acted humble about anything would be the day that Virgil did stand up comedy for the whole school during his lunch block). Still that sort of thing would make Logan and Remus look really good, right?

Virgil should be saying something. He should tell her that he loves his parents and that they are the perfect family and Logan and Remus don’t have a 90% chance of responding “who?” when this woman tries to say he’s their son. He shouldn’t be standing ramrod still in the elevator, holding take out food so close to himself it might look as if he’s trying to wear it, or breathing so loud that people in the lobby could still hear him, what the fuck is wrong with him--

“Hey hun,” the woman said. “I don’t think I caught your name, now. What was that again?”

Virgil swallowed hard, forcing his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth. “Uh… Virgil. My name is Virgil.”

Why did that sound like he was making it up? That wasn’t even a lie! His name was Virgil! Unless it wasn’t? Would he have even known if Virgil wasn’t the name his parents-- real parents-- had given him?

“Virgil,” she repeated pleasantly. “That’s a wonderful name.”

“Yep, it’s mine. Totally mine. Why wouldn’t it be mine?”

Her eyebrows creased in confusion and Virgil debated slamming his head against the reflective metal doors. Before he could get to the part where he follows through on that one, the elevator diiiiinged! And the floor settled to a stop.

“Oh wonderful,” the woman said. “Now would you like to visit Remus first or Logan? Logan has his own office but Remus has a cubical nearby if you want.”

Virgil honestly hadn’t thought he would get this far. He’d been half convinced that Remus would just be… in the lobby, ready to discount his lies, or Logan would be in the parking lot ready to ask him who exactly he was because surely a random restaurant worker wasn’t worth remembering, or Janus would be telling him that he was an idiot and embarrassing and why are we even dating again?

He opened his mouth but no words were coming out, certainly not ones that would make any of this better than the dumpster fire it was already.

“Jen,” A voice said from nearby. Virgil almost jumped right out of his skin, but it turned out just to be another worker in the office: dyed orange hair and an infinity scarf and hiding behind a stack of files almost as tall as they were. They were looking at Virgil though with a nervous expression as if they thought Virgil was the herald of the workplace firing squad or the next round of interns that would eventually take their job. “Uh, who is your… uhm…?”

“Quin,” the woman said warmly, as if she had been just as put off by Virgil’s lack of response as he himself had been. “This is Virgil. You know, Remus and Logan’s son that they talk about all the time? He brought them a surprise lunch! Isn’t that sweet?”

Ah fuck, they talk about having a son?! Did Logan and Remus actually have a son?! Did Janus just forget to tell him about that?!

Janus, what the fuck?!

The new person’s eyes widened as they took in Virgil’s appearance, which was very much out of place in the entire building. He’d worn his jeans with the least amount of holes in them but his only pair of shoes at the moment were these converse and he’d scribbled black sharpie on them out of boredom in his history class last year. He didn’t exactly look anything like someone who lived with Logan might, considering Virgil had never seen Logan not wearing a business suit, but this was the best outfit he could come up with from his closet.

“Uh yeah, totally. Uhm.” The person said nervously and then leaned in close to the woman and whispered, as if Virgil wouldn’t be able to hear them at all, “Uh, didn’t Logan…uhm… say….?”

The woman laughed painfully in a way that made Virgil wonder what exactly they had all done when under the impression that Logan was an asshole who didn’t love his son (a son he didn’t have because Virgil was not his son and even if Virgil was he wouldn’t blame Logan for not wanting him).

“Oh it was just a misunderstanding! Virgil told Jeff and I about it downstairs. We can have lunch together today and I’ll tell you all about it!”

Virgil frowned slightly, because well… he didn’t exactly mind that people would be talking about it-- that was part of the whole plan anyway, to have people talk about-- but something in him was insulted that it would be shared so blaise. Like, didn’t his homelife situation feel even an ounce personal or private? This woman was just going… to talk about him… and Logan… and Remus…and their private, totally real family business over lunch like she knew everything about it and had the right and authority to disclose that information?

For a second, Virgil was half tempted to tell her that he was also royalty of a distance country and that it was super secret because there were people who would kill to know his whereabouts and they could be anyone, ma’am, and they could be anywhere and now that you know they’ll definitely come after you too. Did you know the last person whom I told, went missing within ten hours and the police are still finding body parts of them around the city?… Anyway, have fun sleeping tonight. Fucker.

“Quin!” A familiar voice yelled from around the corner, causing the person in front of Virgil to leap into the air almost a whole foot. The files they were carrying nearly took flight, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to worry about them when he was busy watching a rolling chair skid out from a cubicle and bring him face-to-face with Remus Prince.

If hearing Logan say Virgil would never been his son was bad on Virgil, it looked like it had been absolute hell on Remus: the guy didn’t really advertise mental stability on a regular day, but now there were bags under his eyes, what looked like an actual rats nest in his hair, and his shirt was on both backwards and stained that spoke either of having never known what a washing machine was or he killed someone in his cubicle.

Whatever had gone down after Virgil (calmly, not crying, not hurt) asked them to leave must have been bad, if it got the guy who barely knew him to look like he’d been playing matador to eighteen wheelers on the highway.

Virgil knew the exact moment that Remus recognized (remembered, knew) him, too, even though his stupid monkey instinct brain had been shrieking that if he stood still Remus wouldn’t have been able to see him at all.

“Virgil,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair as if to pluck out whatever creature was in it and offer it to him as a greeting. His eyes darted towards the other adults around him with curiosity, as he stood up and kicked his chair behind him back into a cubicle. “What…are ya doing here, kid?”

“Uh, lunch?” Virgil says, surprisingly calm for someone whose brain was nothing but static and swears and scream-sobbing.

Remus stared at the bag in Virgil’s hands, and then up at him and then back at the bag. Virgil wondered for a moment if he had mixed up the plastic bags in Janus’s cars, accidentally grabbing the bag of live, feral squirrels instead of the takeout.

“Lunch,” Remus echoed. “For me?”

Virgil didn’t blame him for being suspicious. Virgil had never come close to acting comfortable in Remus’s presence and he knew it. Remus took whatever Virgil threw at him (hisses, sharp barbed words, the worst soda combinations Virgil could think of) and acted complete unphased, like Virgil was acting normal, like there was nothing wrong with him, like he enjoyed Virgil’s weird attempts at scaring him off.

Virgil took a deep breath and then set his jaw. “Yeah. You. And Logan. Like a family lunch. You. Me. Logan. I thought it would be nice. To talk. And stuff. As a family.”

“Family!” Another other woman from the cubicle behind Remus squealed. And then seemed to realize the attention had landed on her. “Oh sorry! Just pretend I’m not here!”

“Gladly,” Virgil said. He swore he saw Remus’s lips flicker into a wicked grin at the sound, but it was gone in another moment. Fast enough to give whiplash and remind Virgil why exactly Remus was nearly as terrifying as Patton Hart in terms of mind-fuckery shenanigans.

“Anyway,” Virgil said, forcing himself to look at Remus in the eye and challenging him to cut in. “I know that Lo was beating himself up about everything that happened, even though I told him it was… fine and that we talked everything out last night. I was worried about what your coworkers might be saying, even though it's none of their business, and you guys are really fucking good parents.”

Remus smiled, and then he laughed, and part of Virgil thought that he was definitely calling Virgil’s bluff and security at the same time. But instead the man reached out and ruffled Virgil’s hair the same way his real father hadn’t done in ten years. It was so jarring and sudden that Virgil just stood there and took it and definitely did not have to swallow back the sudden urge to cry.

“You are absolutely going to get me killed by Logan,” Remus said, low enough that it was probably just meant for Virgil. “Hey, LOGAN! DARLING, LOVE OF MY LIFE--!”

A door down the narrow hall swung over, nearly so sharp that it dented the inner wall and Logan stuck his head out “Remus, I swear to Newton you better have--Virgil?”

The man jerked forward, although he looked a bit more like he would have loved to slam the door closed again. His glasses had fingerprints on the lenses, and his shirt was the same shade as yesterday, although it did look like someone washed and ironed it, unlike Remus. Whatever morning he had, was certainly not going well, if the scowl that had been on his face was anything to go by.

Still Virgil waved at him, like his hands weren’t shaking, his knees weren’t about to give out, and his stomach wasn’t about to relocate to the office building’s tile floor because rent was cheaper.

“I--” Logan ran a hand through his tie, nervously, although Virgil had never seen Logan nervous. He was confident, honest, brutal; but that made his compliments feel like nobel prizes when they were given out and his scathing remarks hurt all that much more. ((You are not our son and never will be.)) “Virgil, what are you doing here?”

Remus was grinning, though, winking at Virgil as if there was a secret he didn’t know about happening. “Didn’t know you, Lo? Our son brought us lunch.”

Logan leveled him with a glare that Virgil was an extreme fan of. Something he saw Logan give a rude customer at the restaurant once and had ever since been trying to replicate because it was the perfect blend of you’re embarrassing yourself and I’d burn down your house with you in it if I had a lighter on me right now.

And Remus didn’t even look a bit put off by it. It must have been a married couple thing. Or a Remus thing. Or a Remus-was-married-and-got-that-look-enough-to-build-up-an-immunity thing

“What did you do?” Logan asked his husband.

“Logan!” The woman from the lobby scolded. “I can’t believe you! Your wonderful, sweet son walked all the way here to bring you lunch and you--”

“Yeah, our totally sweet son!” Remus chimed in. “He just came in here. All by himself!”

Logan ignored them both, turning his clinical gaze on Virgil the same way the counselors of his previous schools would when his teachers informed them that he was “purposely” failing their classes. Straight and cutting and you are not my son and never will be and--

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your work,” Virgil said in a small voice. “I can come back another time. Or never. I just… I thought… you guys came to visit me yesterday and we never really got lunch so I brought you Pad Thai with tofu. And uhm…” Please. I could make a good son. You don’t even know me yet.

The women around him all took a sharp intake of breath, the person with the orange hair absolutely whimpered as if he’d stabbed them.

“I just… wanted to spend time with you,” Virgil said. “To, uhm, talk.”

“Holy fuck, you’re ruthless,” Remus murmured under his breath, and it nearly felt like praise. He wasn’t exactly sure what the fuck he was being praised for, but he must have done something right.

Logan’s face ran through emotions too fast for Virgil to catch them and classify them. His lungs were pounding against his ribs, trying to expand past what a normal human can breathe for, but then Logan’s eyes melted a fraction, and Virgil thought he could walk on air.

“Of course,” Logan said. “I-- of course, Virgil. Why… why don’t you and Remus come in here and we’ll have lunch.”

Virgil didn’t sprint towards him, but he could understand if everyone else in the office made the mistake of thinking he did. He heard Remus say something about kids that made it sound like he was feeding into that whole Virgil-is-his-son thing further. However all Virgil could think was Logan, and Logan’s Office Away From People, and I didn’t think I was going to get this far did the elevator break and did it crash to the ground killing me on impact?

Remus closed the door behind himself, trapping Virgil in the office with the two adults. It looked a lot like… well… an office. There weren’t any pictures of Remus or anyone on the walls. There weren’t even knick knacks on the desk. Impersonal, kinda cold, uncomfortable, as if Logan didn’t want any distractions from his 9 to 5 day shift or simply did not like anything-- which Virgil knew wasn’t true because the man was married and once went on a rant about space when Virgil was serving him. There was an Excel sheet pulled up on the computer which it seemed that Logan had been correcting before he’d been disturbed by Virgil’s… mess.

((There was a chair in the corner with a suit jacket tossed over it. It didn’t match the one Logan was wearing today.))

The room was silent for a whole second while all three of them listened to the people outside go back to whatever their jobs were.

Then.

“Did you,” Remus started slowly, a light in his eyes that made Virgil’s knees threaten to give out. “Did you just spread the rumor that Logan and I are good parents?! That’s so ballsy, kid!”

Virgil wasn’t sure how much of his smile looked like a grimace. He held out the boxes of food to Logan and Remus. “I am, uh, blackmailing you. Both of you.”

“Blackmailing,” Logan echoed, as Remus grabbed his shoulder and shook them both at a frequency that probably wasn’t safe for humans to be shaken at. “I think I need to sit down. This is not....”

“Oh my god,” Remus whispered. “Holy mother of Culthulu on a butt fucking stick! He’s playing The Game!”

“Game?” Virgil repeated, trying to reign in all the terror welding in his throat that honestly he was surprised hadn’t straight up killed him already. “Uh no-- I don’t-- Look, it’s really simple! I just need Logan to pretend to be my dad for a day. Like shake hands with my teacher, tell him everything is a-okay at home, and then we don’t ever have to speak about it again! Or speak to each other again! Unless you need your coworkers to think you’re a decent person-- not saying that you aren’t! Because I know you both are! Obviously! Because I wouldn’t agree to a three hour car ride with murderers-- did I even say it was a three hour car ride? Oh fuck I’m sorry, this was stupid--”

“Is there a reason things are not… “a-okay” at home?” Logan said, just short of sounding strangled.

Luckily before Virgil could start sobbing Remus threw a hand over Logan’s mouth and leaned forward. “The kid wants you to play parent, Lolo! Stop thinking so much!”

Logan batted his hand away. “Why me? Why not Remus? Or your actual parents?” Logan asked. “Why… me?”

Virgil wilted back despite his best efforts, already feeling his face do that stupid thing where it heats up beyond humiliation and his entire soul craves spontaneous combustion. “Please don’t make me say it.”

But Logan and Remus apparently couldn’t read minds (fuckkkkk) and just continued to stare at him in baffled confusion. Virgil curled his hands into fists and forced himself to stare at the wall behind Logan’s head and state, out loud, for everyone to hear, “You’re cool.”

“Cool,” Logan echoed. “I’m cool. I’m so cool that you think that makes up for the fact that--”

“Look, my actual parents would be excited if they found out a serial killer grabbed me off the street,” Virgil blurted out. “Remus freaks me the fuck out-- no offense, or actually a lot of offense, please stop grinning at me like that-- and you’re cool, don’t ask me to do anything stupid, never told me I was stupid for not understanding calc-- fuck calc-- so yeah you’re at the top of my adults I trust list right now and I just need someone to be my parent for one day so I can go to this seminar that I really want to go to about business finances management. After that you can tell your coworkers whatever the fuck you guys want from me! Tell them I died! I don’t care! I just… please. Just for ten hours. I’ll find a way to pay for gas, food, and housing so you won’t have to spend a dime!”

“Absolutely not--”

“Please!” Virgil said.

“You’re not paying for it!” Logan said. He shoved his glasses up to his hairline and massaged the bridge of his nose and Virgil’s heart stopped in his chest, leaving him as frozen as a statue.

Remus leaned back against Logan’s desk, far too casual. “So….you’re going?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Virgil didn’t often subscribe to the idea that hope felt like a fluttery thing, but goddamnit did hope feel like a moth with a broken wing struggling to find some way through a glass window pane. He felt like he was going to be sick; he felt like he was going to pass out.

Logan placed a hand on his desk to steady himself. “...where… is this event.”

“YES!” Virgil couldn’t help himself. Luckily, Remus and Logan didn’t look too bothered by his outburst. He dug the crumpled folded flyer from his pocket and smoothed it out for Logan to look at, which he accepted easily, already scanning the red, green, and blue writing with a critical eye.

Virgil knew he was grinning stupidly-- like more stupid than when he watched Janus trip on the sidewalk or answer a question with an abundance of confidence just to be wrong-- but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear and turned halfway, to find that Remus was picking through the takeout boxes, and watching him.

“Uh,” Virgil said, smile dropping. “Sorry. That I’ll be stealing your husband for a day. Is… is that okay? Do you guys need to talk about that?”

Remus snorted. “Yeah so, funny story: Logan and I aren’t actually--”

“--in need of discussing it,” Logan cut in, suddenly talking over Remus without looking up from the flyer, or his phone where he was googling something. “I seem to recall a conversation where…. What was it? Ah yes: Just because you let me put a ring on your hand does not mean that either of us controls the other.”

“Oh my god, were you guys actually going to have a divorce?” Virgil blurted out. “Oh shit, did I just make this worse?”

“No,” Remus and Logan said at the same time, in such an agreement that it startled both of them and Virgil raised his hands in a placating move.

“No, kid,” Remus said. “Logan and I just need to have a… conversation.”

“More than one,” Logan added.

“About what we want out of…this.”

“Yes. This.”

Virgil glanced between them. “You guys are acting weird and I don’t like it.”

“Virgil, I am concerned about the statement you made about your parents not caring if a serial killer killed you,” Logan said. “Please, elaborate.”

“It’s not important,” Virgil said automatically. “Really. I think whatever the two of you have going on is far more detail worthy--”

“I also would like you to know that I will not be starting any rumors about you having died, especially not to my coworkers. Remus?”

“The game is not fun when people are getting hurt,” Remus… agreed? Virgil wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. “So, for the foreseeable future you are going to be our son, which is technically providing a service, wouldn’t you agree, Lo?”

“Yes. Providing a service requires a payment. How does thirty dollars an hour sound?”

“What the fuck,” Virgil said. “Wait--”

“This event is an all day affair, which means both of us will be too tired to do any driving afterwards, so that means a hotel,” Logan continued. “Remus, I assumed that you would like to join? Excellent. I’ll have Patton approve your days off. Two bedrooms. Virgil, you mentioned you like to sleep in so I assume a check out around noon the following day, plus a three hour drive back here, would make a total of…. Around twenty seven hours. Which comes out to a total of eight hundred ten dollars. Does that sound adequate?”

Virgil looked at Remus. “I think I made a mistake.”

Remus laughed at him. “I think we should round it to an even thousand.”

“No!” Virgil shrieked. “That was not a solution!”

“Face it, kid. You just won yourself two sugar daddies in one go.”

“Stop talking!” Virgil said. “You are not going to pay me to be your son on a trip that I am blackmailing you into going on!”

“Sure we are,” Remus said, talking through a mouth of food. “Gotta make up for all the birthdays we missed for our son.”

Virgil thought he was going to melt into the floor. But uh, it was nice? Kinda? Logan was definitely holding a piece of a smile on his normally stoic face and Remus was almost chill and they had been in this room together for a whole five minutes and nothing had exploded and neither of them had tried to kill him for pretending to be their son or otherwise revealed that they were insanely evil.

So, yeah. When Virgil saw them in the restaurant he didn’t think he was going to actually get adopted, but well…Virgil was tentatively hopeful for how this might turn out.

(Part 6)

#sanders sides #intrulogical #anxceit #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #Hahah yeah that certainly is one way to gain a son #fake marriage #fake dating #fake adoption???#Rumor Mill Au #sympathetic remus #Maybe having a child really will save this marriage #Far too many OCs #Virgil has a +20 to Charisma despite literally everything #Because I make the rules

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