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edupunkn00b · 10 months

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Overruled, Chapter 2: Obfuscated

Prev - Obfuscated - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Written for @loceitweek, Day 2: Masks - WC: 1498 - Rated: T - Alcohol, swearing, mentions of non-consensual drugging, vomiting/nausea ---

Everything hurt.

Janus blinked against the sunbeam targeting his face, lids sandpaper against his eyes. He turned his head and sharp, hot pain shot up his shoulder and neck before radiating out through his back and limbs. “Fuck.” He couldn’t get more than a croak past his dry throat. Even his tongue and teeth hurt, his mouth swollen, arid, and foul.

“Excellent…” The quiet voice rattled through his skull and he winced. “You are awake.”

“Either that or dead,” he muttered, eyes now squeezed shut.

Bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor past him and, after a clattering racket, the red glow bleeding through his eyelids faded. “Any better?” the voice said, even quieter this time.

Janus grunted and pried his head and shoulders up off the sinking soft surface he was lying on. He fell back almost immediately, a fresh ache exploding in his head as the room spun and his stomach flipped. “Sick—” he managed before he turned and heaved up the scant contents of his stomach. There was rushed movement near him and firm hands turned him to his side.

“Get it out,” the voice muttered near his ear. “That’s it, right in the bucket… you’ll feel better.”

When he finally stopped, something cool and wet was pressed to forehead and another dabbed at his mouth, his face, his neck. Janus cracked one eye open and spotted a colorful flash of floral brocade tucked under a dark blue apron.

“Necktie,” he groaned.

“So you do remember where you are,” Logan murmured. The cloth moved away, followed by the swish of water, then soon returned, cool and soothing.

He reached out blindly, brushing against the prim knot at the other man’s neck. “It's Seattle. You’re the only man our age who owns one of these,” he said, wincing at the deafening volume of his own voice. “Let alone actually wears the damn thing.”

Logan chuckled, low and quiet. The sound rumbled through his chest where Janus belatedly realized he’d been leaning. His brain told him to sit up all the way, but his body wouldn’t listen, and his head bobbed ineffectually against Logan’s shoulder. “Take it slow,” he said, shifting until Janus’ head was pillowed against muscle instead of the sharp corner where clavicle met shoulder bone.

The cloth moved to his neck, the light pressure easing the knotted muscle he’d woken up with, and he couldn’t help a low sigh. His hand flopped to his other side, rubbing the upholstery next to him.

Janus frowned. “This isn’t my couch.” He peered through narrowed eyes, ignoring the renewed pounding in his head. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” Logan said after a moment. “You were… unwell last night at the party. You told me you lived a mile from campus and I asked you if I could bring you here.” His movements slowed and he set the cloth aside. Janus eyed it, already missing the soft touch. “You said it was—”

“Better than fucking in the elevator,” he finished, a flash of last night filling his mind.

“Well, yes.” Logan cleared his throat, a bubble of a mirth behind his words. “I was about to paraphrase that you thought it was wise.” He picked up the cloth again and resumed dabbing against his skin. “We can both be right.”

Janus barked out a half-laugh then winced. “Oh, don’t make me laugh!”

“I shall endeavor to be as boring as possible, then.”

True to his promise, Logan fell silent, moving only to refresh the cloth once it became warm.

Dread churned in his gut until he feared he’d be sick again. Finally, he asked, “What happened?”

“I will tell you everything I know, however I do not wish to impact your memory with my own perception,” Logan said slowly. “What do you remember?”

I remember watching the door, waiting for you to arrive.

“I was at Jack’s… I had a few drinks…” He chuckled, the movement rattling his brain against his skull. He breathed into the pain and nodded. Slowly. “I’d picked which guy I’d take home if you didn’t show.”

He smirked, one eyebrow a perfect arch over those damned glasses. “You were that certain I’d go home with you?” He wet the cloth and wrung it out again. “I could’ve been there to pick up your friend.”

“Ow,” he laughed and groaned at the same time. “What did I say about making me laugh, Necktie?”

Chuckling quietly, Logan reached for a small bottle of water and opened it in front of him. “Slow sips,” he said, pressing it into his hands. “It will help with the headache.”

He followed Logan’s instructions, annoyed he was right. “You gave me water,” he said suddenly, staring down at the bottle. Logan remained silent, but after a while Janus shook his head. “I… I don’t remember much else. Fuzzy thoughts…”

The hand holding the bottle shook and Logan took it from him. “You were unconscious when I arrived.” His lips tightened into a thin line and his brow furrowed, annoyance or perhaps concern darkening his steely blue eyes.

His pupils had shrunk.

Fear.

“I was able to wake you and you told me you’d had four…” Logan shook his head and inhaled slowly. “You were far more impaired than someone who’d had four bourbons over a few hours. I… offered to bring you home and as we were leaving… A man, one of the other guests, accosted us.”

Logan turned his head and looked closely at him, that same strange mix of emotions flitting over his face, like he couldn’t pick which one. “I believe he drugged you. He… he tried to stop us from leaving.” A smile sparkled across his face. “You fought back. Half conscious, and knocked over, you still managed to take him down and pin him to the floor.”

“Hmph,” he grunted, rotating his shoulder. “That explains this.”

“Are you in pain?” Logan turned again and scanned him with those laser eyes. “I mean…”

“Nothing a hot shower and some stretches won’t solve.”

“You are welcome to…” He gestured half-heartedly toward one of the doors in the hallway. “Of course, if you would not prefer your own shower.”

Janus nodded, letting where he would shower be a problem for the future. Even this short conversation drained him and it was a struggle not to let his full weight rest against Logan’s side. His apron smelled like coffee grounds and cinnamon. He wondered if his nursemaid would allow him a cup of coffee.

The thought alone was enough to turn his stomach and he closed his eyes. The unease didn't fade and the flashes from his dreams grew brighter. “Did I… did I say anything else last night?” he asked. His fingers scrunched against the plush sofa cushion, hand empty. He’d dreamt… Janus opened his eyes with a little sigh. He’d dreamt his hand had not been empty.

“There was some… flirting,” Logan said carefully. “No more than one might anticipate given the circumstances.”

“Nothing…” There'd been music, different music that from that fucking party. Soft. A peaceful rumble. Logan’s voice. “Nothing else?”

He shifted next to him and pressed the water bottle into his hands. Logan watched silently as he sipped. “You…” he murmured when Janus lowered the bottle. “You dreamt. And… spoke a little in your sleep.”

His name sat on Janus’ tongue, heavy and sweet. He hadn’t said it in so long. “Anything stand out?” he asked, desperate to hear anything but the answer he knew Logan would give.

“You called me Gabe.”

Janus couldn’t hide the hitch in his breathing but Logan didn’t ask him to explain, didn’t ask him if he was alright. If he’d said anything about Gabe… Logan would know he wasn’t.

Logan sat quietly with him until the room stopped spinning long enough for him to lean against the back rest. “I recognize food may be the last on your priorities at the moment…” He frowned, peering closely at his eyes as he avoided his gaze. Logan then picked up his hand and pressed the nail bed on each finger, watching intently. “But you are dehydrated and likely your electrolytes are unbalanced, as well.”

Janus’ hand was still resting in his and he stared down at it for a moment before slowly letting it rest on his lap.

“If you will allow me to prepare something for you…” He began to gather a bowl and tissues from the table.

“Before you—” Janus began, watching him work. “The—the cloth was…”

Logan looked down at the cotton cloth in his hand, then nodded. He dipped it in the water and wrung it out. He smiled, a soft, gentle smile, nothing like the little smirk from before or his failed attempt to hide a laugh. Just… soft. "Forehead?"

Janus nodded once. “Thank you,” he murmured and averted his eyes as Logan carefully laid the cloth against his skin.

“It’s my pleasure, Janus,” he whispered. Janus closed his eyes, afraid the rest of his mask might crumble under the weight of that smile if looked at it for much longer. “I will return with some ginger tea and crackers. Some broth.” Logan said after a long moment. “Rest.”

Nodding, Janus leaned back against the couch and tugged the cloth down over his eyes.

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 2 years

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"Wait." Logan called out, forcing Janus to stop in his tracks. The uncharacteristic burn in Logan's voice added a dash of colour to the tone which caused Janus to turn back immediately with concern.

The silence between them felt deafening until Logan finally spoke pointing to his chest.

"Is my tie straight?" He asked sincerely.

There was the briefest of pauses before Janus' laughter immediately filled the empty space, his bowler hat falling slightly further back allowing soft strands of hair to become exposed.

Logan tilted his head, a soft smirk forming on his face with one thought on his mind.

'That's the laugh'

#sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #ts logan #ts janus #loceit #platonic loceit #romantic loceit #drabble #ts fanfic #sanders sides fic #This kinda came out of nowhere but I love it #Will probably turn into a one shot later down the line! 😄#Inspired by Shadow and Bone

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lily-janus · 10 months

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Communication Is Key

Summary: Logan has been shutting himself off from Janus which makes him extremely worried. One day, he decides to confront him.

Pairings: romantic loceit, platopnic dukeceit

Warnings: mentions of homophobia, grief, death mention, talk of past toxic behaviours, miscommunication, yelling and arguing, Remus being his protective and gross self, angstttt. Let me know if there's anything I missed.

Word count: 1,812

For @loceitweek day 4 conflict/resolution

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

"...leave a message after the bip."

Janus let out a tired sigh as his call to Logan reached voicemail… again.

He looked around the restaurant and out the window to hopefully catch sight of him, but no dice.

He checked the time again… ah hour and a half after the time they agreed to meet at.

Giving up, assuming Logan got caught up at work and forgot about their date once again, Janus got up and left for his apartment.

He knows he shouldn't take this to heart, he knows Logan, knows how he thinks. It's not that he cares about work more than Janus, he just can't leave work until everything's done for the day. If not, he won't be able to give Janus, or anyone, his full attention.

It's not that part that bothers Janus, though, he was well aware of that side of Logan when they started dating. It's that he doesn't even bother to even notify him that he'll be late… that.. he doesn't talk to Janus anymore, not really.

What bothers Janus… is that Logan seems to be putting up walls around himself and not letting Janus in anymore. And, more than that, he doesn't understand why. Things were going really well… at least, that's what he thought, clearly he was wrong.

"Hey, Lovebirds- oh…" Remus' grin was wiped away when he saw only Janus entering the apartment, without Logan. "Stood you up again, didn't he?"

Janus didn't say anything, but his silence and expression seemed to be enough of an answer.

"Why aren't you ditching him again? How long are you going to let him ghost you like that?!" Remus growled in anger, "he shouldn't be treating you like this, Jan!"

Janus grimaced, "something's bothering him… I just know it… if he'd just talk to me…" he trailed off with a sigh.

His phone buzzed and Janus saw it was Logan calling. He hesitated for a moment, the pety part of him wanting to let him go to voicemail, but he answered in the end.

"I am so sorry, Janus, I had this emergency at work and I couldn't-"

"It's okay." Janus said tiredly.

"...it is?" Logan sounded surprised, and a little taken aback.

"Just… come to my place when you can, okay? I want to talk to you." Janus said, hoping he didn't sound too harsh.

"Oh… yeah, of course, I'll be there in exactly 30 minutes and 40 seconds. Logan said.

…

True to his word, Logan arrived just like he said, for once being punctual for something other than work.

He knocked on the door exactly 30 minutes and 40 seconds after their call ended, but Remus got to the door before Janus.

"Don't break him, please…" Janus shook his head. And he went to sit by the kitchen table, knowing there's no stopping Remus.

Remus grinned at him as he turned the handle, "no promises!"

He opened the door, "Listen, dork-face, if you keep treating my best friend like that I will cut your dick, cook it and eat it while making you watch, got that?"

"...as grossly specific as ever, Remus, I got it." Logan said, sounding a bit fond. Remus had a weird way of growing on you, Janus knew that from experience.

"...can I come in now?" Logan asked after a while of Remus not moving aside to let him through.

"You can try, but I-"

"Leave my boyfriend alone, would you, Remus dear?" Janus said with the shake of his head.

Remus pouted but moved aside, "boyfriends actually show up to dates…" he mattered before going to his room to give them 'privacy', he's probably going to listen in, this apartment's thin walls allowing no secrets.

Despite everything, Janus couldn't help a small smile gracing his lips when he saw Logan, the guy was too cute for his own good… how is he supposed to stay mad at those brilliant blue eyes?

No, you're not mad. He reminded himself. You're worried.

"I can sense I'm in trouble." Logan said lightly, attempting poor humor to lift the tension between them… it didn't work.

Janus bit his lip, now that Logan was here, he wasn't sure how to approach the subject.

In the end, as Logan sat down in front of him, he just let out a tired breath, "look, I'm not your teacher and I'm not your parent… I'm not going to scold you or lecture you…. I'm just worried…" he trailed off.

Logan frowned, "worried? About what?"

At that, Janus snapped, and he got up sharply, slamming his fists on the table in frustration, "about you, obviously!"

Logan jumped, looking up at Janus with wide eyes, "m-me? But I'm-"

"If you say fine I'm going to break something." Janus cut him off, "you can keep up the act all you want Logan, but I know something's wrong, and I can't help unless I know what it is."

Logan was silent for a long moment before saying, very quietly, "I appreciate the concern but, I'm really okay… no need for you to worry."

Janus buried his face in his hands, not like he didn't expect this, but still…

"Really? No need to worry? I can hardly recognize you! You don't talk to me anymore! And I don't know why! …did I do something to drive you away? I used to do that before I met you but… I worked on it… am I doing it again?" The last question was to himself more than to Logan. Is he reverting back to his toxic traits without realizing it?

"What? N-no, Janus you did nothing wrong I just…" Logan said immediately, trailing off with a sigh, "I… it's not something you can fix, Janus…"

Janus blinked, sitting back down and taking Logan's hand gently. Did Logan finally say something about what was bothering him the last few months? Finally?

He swallowed, "maybe not, but I can listen, what is it?" Janus said as gently as he could. He didn't want to push Logan but he also wanted to know very badly.

Logan was silent for a long moment, then Janus noticed his eyes getting shiny and wet behind his glasses and, before he realized what was happening, Logan was crying.

Janus hates when Logan cries, it's the worst sound in the world for him, the sound of sadness and misery coming from the person he loves so very deeply is… very upsetting.

He quickly gets up and pulls Logan up into his arms, hugging him tightly, letting Logan cling to him and sob into his shoulder.

"I-it's m-my dad…" Logan says between sobs and Janus' nails dig into Logan's back a bit unconsciously at the mention of that man.

Logan's homophobic dad that sent him to therapy sessions and had endless arguing with him after he came out. And, finally, ignoring him completely after he started dating guys.

"...what about him?" Janus tried his best to keep his voice even and not dripping with anger.

"He… he…" Logan sniffed, pulling back to look Janus in the eyes, "...he's dead, Janus… m-my father died…"

Janus' eyes widened in surprise, that… was not the answer he was expecting. But, the more Janus thought about it, the more Logan's behavior made sense. The missed calls, getting caught up at work, the meaningless small talk… he was…

"You were trying to keep yourself busy to distract yourself from thinking about it, didn't you?" Janus said softly, sitting them both back down but keeping one of Logan's hands in his so he could rub it soothingly.

Logan sniffed again, nodding, "I… I don't know how to feel about it… I don't even know how I'm supposed to feel about it…" his voice was still rasp and shaky, but Janus nodded, listening intently. "We haven't been in contact for so long and suddenly I get a call from my sister that he's just… gone." Logan continued.

"What about…" Janus started but Logan finished the question for him.

"The funeral?" Logan let out an empty chuckle, "he wouldn't have wanted me there…" he said bitterly, "he said it himself… he doesn't have a son…"

Janus nodded again, for now not saying much and letting Logan say what he needs to say.

"But now… now he's dead, is it wrong to keep resenting him? Am I a bad person if I don't feel bad for a dead man? …should I feel bad? All I felt for my father was resentment, from even before I came out, even though that made him ten times worse, he never made an effort to understand me, he just wanted me to be the perfect copy of himself." Logan rambled on, it's nothing Janus hadn't heard before, though the death part was new.

"But… despite everything… Now that I think about it, I do feel a sense of loss…" Logan frowned, "I think a part of me kept hoping he'll 'come around'... that he'll attempt to make amends…" Logan took in a shaky breath, "now that he's gone… that hope is gone too… I'll never have the dad I wanted…"

Logan finished, looking up at Janus with damp eyes, "Janus… I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you, my father's death is not an excuse for me to push you away like that… the last thing I want is to hurt you."

Janus sighed, shaking his head and leaning closer to kiss Logan on the cheek, "it's okay, I'm glad you were able to talk to me about it eventually, even if there's nothing I can do to fix the problem, I'm always here to listen." He offered Logan a small smile, "no more walls between us, okay?"

Logan nodded, returning the smile, "it's a deal."

Janus then smirked as he thought of something, "but that doesn't mean you're off the hook." He said, which earned him Logan's adorably confused face. "You still have a lot of missed dates that you owe me." Janus grinned mischievously.

Logan's eyes widened slightly and he sighed, "this is going to cost me, isn't it?"

Janus finally gave Logan a deep and real kiss on the lips before pulling back to say, "that, my dearest, is a promise." He chuckled.

"Well, in that case, I better get started now." Logan smiled.

Janus raised an interested eyebrow, "oh? What do you have in mind?"

Logan got up and Janus followed, "you'll see, can't ruin the surprise, where's the fun in that?"

Janus laughed as they walked out of the apartment, "I'm starting to regret teaching you that."

"Teaching me what?" Logan asked curiously.

Janus smirked, "fun."

Logan snorted, "I was fun before I met you."

Janus chuckled, "sure you were, Teach."

Logan pushed him lightly, "you, sir, are the worst."

Janus took Logan's hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, "I love you too, Lo."

#sanders sides #logan sanders #ts janus sanders #romantic loceit #platonic dukeceit #tw homophobia #cw death mention #tw yelling #tw arguing #loceitweek2023 #day 4: conflict/resolution #Lily writes #cw innuendo

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candied-peach · 1 year

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ao3: “the ticking of the clock” rating: T warnings: loceit, kissing genre: fluff and angst description: Janus discovers Logan has his stuff. What's the appropriate answer? Breaking and entering, of course. (happy holidays, @icecoldflames! i hope you like it! i used loceit, antique shop + witch au, and enemies to lovers kind of! @sanderssidesgiftxchange )

Janus frowns faintly when his locator spell points into yet another crooked scrawl of neighborhood. He sighs, tucking away his wand discreetly up his sleeve, and continues on his way. He's waited hundreds of years for this. He doesn't need to rush.

Truthfully, Janus thought he'd never see his old property at all. He lost it when an ill-fated attempt on his life occurred, driving him away from his home in a hurry. In the rush, he unfortunately left most of his belongings. He still misses them. And just last week, while taking a stroll, he felt a sort of ping from his old belongings. They were around here somewhere. He just had to find them.

He expects them to be in someone's house, perhaps crammed in an attic or tucked away in a guest room. Something like that. Hopefully tidied away and forgotten just enough that he can slip in and retrieve them. They might even be still in good condition. Janus knows better than to hope for pristine, not after this long.

He frowns harder when his steps slow, his wand pointing directly at...

An antiques shop?

Not just any antiques shop, Janus realizes with dismay and a faint, dawning horror. One run by Logan, the utter bastard that is a fellow witch. Janus is a learned man. A man of culture. He is not the kind of man who flings a punch, or tosses a kick someone's way.

He desperately wants to punch Logan Croft right in his stupid, smug face.

How dare he keep Janus's treasured belongings?! Does he have no sense of decency? There is no way he wouldn't be able to sense the tinge of magic soaked into the wood. Janus's particular style is quite distinctive. He has to know. He has to know and he's choosing not to reunite Janus with his possessions. Janus's upper lip wrinkles back in a snarl. If Logan thinks he can play keep away with Janus's belongings, then he has another thing coming.

He nearly rushes up the steps, nearly throws himself through the door, ready to demand what in the hell Logan thinks he's playing at. He checks himself sharply. He will look insane if he confronts Logan like this, still boiling with fury. Especially if there are any paying customers around. His property is safe for the time being. If somebody dares buy it, he can always find it again.

His steps reluctantly turn away, trailing down the road. He gives one final cursory look over his shoulder and sees the curtains at the window twitch. Janus chooses to behave like he hasn't seen this, taking a slow, deep breath. He needs to plan. He cannot be rash.

But oh, how he longs to be.

-----

Logan doesn't mean to spy.

Truly, he doesn't. He is busy straightening and tidying, always in pursuit of perfection, when he catches a glimpse of a man out the window that he hasn't seen in decades. Janus. The old witch is staring up at his antiques shop, nearly vibrating with what looks like righteous wrath. For a moment, Logan can't fathom why.

Then he glances back, to a particular corner, and winces. Of course. Janus can sense his old belongings, can't he. Logan hasn't meant to keep them this long. He meant to return them years and years ago, when they first came into his possession. He knows the two of them don't particularly get along, but-

He misses Janus.

Perhaps it's foolish of him. After all, it isn't like the other witch likes him. But that is just the thing. The other witch. There aren't many, particularly not as many who have managed to live as long as he and Janus have. There's a certain camaraderie in that. Perhaps Logan just...wished to talk to him again, and thought that keeping his possessions would facilitate that.

But it wasn't right. He can see that now. He'll have to contact Janus in some way, have to arrange to give him his belongings back. Not sell them to him, no, he is not quite that grasping a character. They are Janus's, fair and square. Logan sighs, straightening his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He wishes that he was reckless enough to plunge out the door after Janus.

He remains.

-----

"Break into the antiques shop," Janus mutters to himself, pacing up and down the worn floorboards of his bedroom. "Shrink all of my belongings, tuck them into my pockets, and walk right out. He won't know what hit him."

But what of enchantments? Janus frowns, briefly checking himself. Logan isn't stupid. He is many things, but low on intelligence and wit does not number among his faults. If he hasn't enchanted his shop against thieves, Janus will eat his hat without salt. That does pose a problem. If he breaks the enchantments, then Logan will know a fellow witch is around, and there aren't that many of them wandering around. It's but a hop, skip, and jump to presume it's Janus, and Janus doesn't think the argument "they were my belongings hundreds of years ago and I am simply returning them to their rightful owner, me" will hold up in court.

On the other hand, that also presumes that Logan would actually be willing to go to any kind of authority over the theft. Janus liked to think that Logan would be aware of the potential missteps in doing so. He bites his bottom lip. This is trickier than he thought it would be. He thinks that going in wand blazing would be a mistake, but it's also the only idea that will remain in his head for a period longer than a moment.

"Am I really that attached to my belongings?" Janus murmurs to himself, collapsing onto the soft and worn comforter that covers his bed. "Am I really willing to risk everything for someone as- as irritating as Logan Croft, of all people?"

He hasn't done anything wrong, to be scrupulously fair. Logan has never even summoned a spell against Janus. It's mostly his...the way he talks. The way he gesticulates. The way he can go on a tangent for hours and never come back to the original subject. The way his eyes sparkle in the sun when he's lit up about something he's passionate about. The way he-

Wait, what's that last one?

Janus's eyes widen in dismay. Oh. Oh no.

He cannot possibly find himself harboring an attraction for his fellow witch. No. The very thought is preposterous. Besides, the chances that any of his feelings (strange, new, and confusing as they may be) could possibly be reciprocated are- well, impossibly low. Even if Janus had a chance at some point, he certainly mustn't now, after he's made a thorough nuisance of himself.

Really, he would be better off just waiting until morning, going to the antiques shop, and politely requesting that Logan return his things, perhaps even offering him a "finder's fee" of sorts.

Which is how Janus finds himself slipping out, dressed in muted dark colors, wand up his sleeve, breaking into the antiques shop with an antique set of lock picks.

The irony is not lost on him.

-----

Logan stirs as the muted blare of the front door's alarm invades his consciousness. He groans, lifting his head to stare blearily at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It is just after two thirty in the morning. Why is the front door alarm going off?

Logan concentrates all of his attention on the front of the shop and nearly falls out of bed in shock as he recognizes Janus. Janus, who is currently attempting to break into his shop. With a set of lock picks, no less.

Logan stumbles out of bed in a disheveled hurry, throwing on fresh clothes this way and that. He is thoroughly bewildered at Janus's actions. They are unlike any the other witch has previously taken, and that intrigues him. Is there something among his belongings that he is that desperate to ensure belongs to him again? If that is the case, then Logan will gladly step aside, perhaps even assist him in retrieving all of his possessions that Logan currently has.

He slips downstairs, shedding the enticing weight of slumber, just as Janus finally succeeds at picking the lock and slips inside.

"I hope you don't think that was subtle," he drawls. Janus skids to a stop, his eyes widening when they land on Logan. A scowl immediately crosses Janus's face.

"You," Janus breathes, stalking closer. It is easy to forget that Janus is so much shorter than Logan until now, when he is forced to confront the issue. "You impossible- infuriating-" Janus shakes a gloved finger in Logan's direction. Logan arches an eyebrow.

"You are the one breaking and entering," Logan points out.

"To retrieve my stolen property!" Janus splutters. Ah. So this is about his possessions then. Logan swallows back a strange, burning sense of disappointment.

"I did not steal it," Logan says mildly. "It fell into my possession quite naturally."

"You should have given it back," Janus accuses. Logan has no way to refute that. Janus is right. He should have made an effort to track the other witch down. His loneliness is no excuse. (Is it really just loneliness, murmurs his head. Are you really sure?)

"I apologize," Logan says, inclining his head slightly. Janus stares at him, eyes widened, as if he doesn't quite know how to react to that.

"I should have given your possessions back to you," Logan continues. "I apologize for not doing so in a more timely fashion. I have no excuse for my behavior."

"Why didn't you?" Janus asks. There is something inscrutable in his mismatched eyes. Logan has never been so close as to notice the beauty in them. They sparkle like differently colored gems, dark brown and amber bordering on emerald. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

"I missed you," he confesses, closing his eyes briefly. "I- I know that you aren't particularly fond of me, but you are a fellow witch and more than that, I- I find your conversations intriguing."

"I intrigue you?" Janus twists his words, just a little, and Logan finds himself nodding slowly.

"Yes," Logan agrees. "I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable, I have no desire to-"

"Logan," Janus interrupts him, stepping closer. "Logan, if it is all right with you, I want to kiss you," he says. Very forthright. Logan blinks at him, all thoughts leaving his head like a flurry of fallen leaves in the autumn chill.

"Then do," Logan murmurs through stiff lips, and wonders that the syllables came from his own mouth. Janus tugs on him a little, his gloved hands surprisingly warm against Logan's arm and Logan bends down, only to feel Janus's fingers in his hair, tightening in the surprisingly unruly strands, as their mouths seal together. Janus's mouth is hot and wet and surprisingly reminiscent of cinnamon and tea. Logan's head swims as they kiss, his eyes wrenched open so he doesn't miss a single moment of the way Janus's eyelids flutter and his nostrils flare, ever so slightly, as he takes in a breath through his nose, to keep the kiss going longer.

They part slowly, reluctantly. Logan is dazed, but not in a negative way. Nothing about this is negative. Janus's eyes are blown wide in what looks like surprise.

"That was incredible," Janus blurts out, his mouth curving in a slow, sweet smile. It looks gorgeous on him.

"Yes," Logan agrees, almost absently. As if it is a foregone conclusion. "Yes, it was." His smile is soft and tentative. "Janus," he says. "If I may be so bold..." Janus watches him, almost amused.

"I'd like to kiss you again," Logan blurts out, and Janus smushes himself against Logan in order to reach. This kiss is languid, syrupy sweet, like they have an eternity.

"You can have your things back, too," Logan says, as an afterthought. "I really didn't mean to keep them from you for so long."

"Logan," Janus says, his voice thick with fondness. "I adore you." Logan blinks at him.

"Likewise," Logan says, without a shred of hesitation. "Thank you for breaking into my shop tonight."

"It was my pleasure," Janus says, and tossing his head back, he begins to laugh. After a moment, Logan can't help but join him.

#🍬.txt #sanders sides #loceit #romantic loceit #sanders sides gift exchange 2022 #janus sanders #logan sanders #janus #logan #sanders sides fic #📚#ok to rb #peach writes

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loganslowdown4 · 2 years

Text

Logan: Fuck! I fucked up.

Janus: *appears* Why? What happened?

Logan: I’m... uh, falling for someone...

Janus: Damn, well he must be a special someone to make Logan “I don’t feel anything” Sanders fall in love right?

Logan: *looks at Janus* Yeah... yeah, he’s really special...sigh

#Janus just appears the moment you start feeling and yelling about internal conflict #completely unaware it’s about HIM #lol poor Logan #feelings suck #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sander sides #loceit #ts loceit #romantic loceit #logan sanders #Janus sanders #ts logan #ts janus #incorrect quote sanders sides #incorrect sanders sides

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specs-and-capelets · 2 years

Text

red for romance

pairing: romantic loceit

On one ordinary morning, Logan wakes up to flowers on his doorstep.

They’re tied in a small bouquet, all white asters and all lovely. There is no letter or any indication of the sender attached to it, making it all even more curious.

He makes sure to ask his roommate later about it through text, if he’s expecting any flower delivery, and after that he then asks his neighbors nearby, all saying that no, they aren’t expecting any flowers.

So Logan concludes next that it was for someone in his dorm, so either it’s for him or his dorm-mate. Virgil says that it’s in no way for him, since the small bouquet are clearly intended to be found by an early riser and who the hell even wants to give him flowers anyway? Virgil also adds. And then he suggests that Logan can catch whoever it is, since he always wakes up so damn early after all.

And Logan agrees, assenting that it’s a good idea. He’s.. curious, obviously. Who wouldn’t be? And as he examines the flowers later that day— patient love, he discovers the meaning behind white asters when he searched it up mid the lull in class —he feels his chest warms with unfamiliar giddiness and anticipation, and for once, he embraces the feeling with open arms.

The next morning after the first flower delivery, Logan catches sight of the mysterious deliverer.

A man, with pale blond hair and bi-colored eyes, his long overcoat billowing lightly and gracefully behind him as he takes careful, cautious steps towards Logan’s doorstep. With a sweeping glance around the empty corridor, he places down the bouquet after making sure no one is around— and he failing to notice Logan watching him behind the curtains, heart thundering in his chest and his ears because the man outside is downright gorgeous.

And— hmm. Familiar. But Logan can’t place where he had seen him. And how could he forget such a face, with a scarring over the left side of his face that looks intriguing and— very attractive, if you ask Logan.

Mystery man then leaves just as quickly as he arrives, and if Logan isn’t diligent, he would have missed him entirely. He wonders, what compels the man to deliver Logan, of all people, flowers. And as much as he claims himself to be separate entirely with the concept of romanticism, he can’t help but.. wonder, and fantasize. And the images, the what ifs and what could be— are not bad at all.

Does the man know him? He must do, since he’s giving all those flowers to him, after all (and Logan kept each and every one in a vase, placed on his desk in his room). He likes to think of how the man would look like if he smiles. He likes to imagine how his hand would feel like on top of his, squeezing gently. He likes to fantasize him directly giving him the flowers, perhaps even asking him out on a date.

Those thoughts are.. nice, and Logan is lying if he says he’s never had them.

(Virgil once caught him smiling down at his stack of papers, like some lovestruck high schooler, and Virgil groans. Oh god, he definitely thinks the flower delivery boy is cute.)

—

Practice makes perfect, and Logan was practicing very hard before tomorrow morning.

It’s been a week since Flower Man left asters in his doorstep and Logan had decided that he wants to confront him. Everyday a different flower and with each flower Logan grows even more motivated to talk to him. Obviously he.. admires Logan, right? Hence the flowers. There are no other logical conclusion to this, or maybe he just doesn’t have all the facts. But with Virgil’s encouragement, he plans to follow through and confront the deliverer tomorrow morning.

And now here he is, practicing in front of a mirror.

“I am Logan Berry. I think the flowers you brought are all lovely.” He keeps his words simple, not wanting to get all tongue tied. Even in the privacy of his room, his heartbeat increases with each word he spoke, heat reddening his face to the tips of his ears.

“I am Logan Berry and I think the flowers you brought are all lovely,” he repeats more firmly, over and over.

At the end of the night, when he helps himself with a glass of water, Virgil tells him he’s giving way too much effort but is ultimately rooting for him. Logan appreciates it.

—

When Janus started delivering Roman his ‘expertly picked’ and ‘very romantic’ flowers for Virgil, he hadn’t been told in any way, shape, or form that Virgil has an early-riser, handsome roommate that thought all the flowers are for him instead. How the hell did Roman forget about the ‘rooming with Logan fucking Berry’ part?

Janus clutches the bouquet of flowers— red roses —tightly against his chest, face red just as the flowers in his hands in the face of getting caught in the act.

The man who has caught him looks very red as well for someone who did the catching. “Um.” Is his eloquent start. “I’m Logan. Logan Berry. I—“ He clears his throat, trying his best to meet Janus’ surprised gaze. “I— I think all the flowers you brought are— are all— lovely,” he stumbles through the words, voice very quiet, almost a murmur. If the corridor isn’t so quiet already, Janus definitely wouldn’t have heard that.

“I’m Janus.” Janus answers rather dumbly, still stricken with surprise and embarrassment, his mind maneuvering its best to make the best of this situation. Of course he recognizes him. He’s Logan Berry, the very brilliant student to ever exist, people say, and Janus agrees, seeing how he beat his ass in Philosophy the other week. But instead of the cold and aloof man he knows him to be, he’s more akin to a fumbling, blushing school girl right now, and—

Oh. Oh. Janus’ surprised face turns into a bright, charming smile. Well, as best as he can, anyway, with how out of control his heart is beating, it’s hard to compose himself fully. “Ah, really?” he murmurs back, equally quiet as the other, as if whispering back a secret. “I’m very glad you think so.” He’ll (half-heartedly and very annoyingly) apologize to Roman later, for stealing his thunder. Right now, how can he possibly tell Logan that this is all just a misunderstanding? “I tried to find flowers that look just like your eyes, but it seems impossible to do so.”

Logan, if possible, blushes even deeper. “Is that why it’s different everyday?” he asks again, sounding shyer this time. Ah, how adorable.

Janus shrugs. “I just asked the shopkeeper to sell me very romantic flowers since there’s no blue that matches yours,” he replied smoothly, watching Logan’s— deep, lovely —eyes widen even further as he fumbles with the edge of his shirt. “It seems like she’s successful, since you opened your door for me, after all.”

“Is— is that your intention?” Logan stammers out a reply, face still that lovely shade of red. “That— that you would like to c-c-court me?”

Janus hums in agreement. “Ever since you beat me in that debate.”

“That was weeks ago!” Is Logan’s shocked reply. Then a pause. “Wait— You’re—?!” Blond hair, heterochromic eyes— isn’t he the one Logan debated heatedly with a few weeks ago?

“And I’ve been thinking of you ever since.” Janus’ low answer. Logan is gaping at him like fish out of water, as if someone liking him is such a foreign concept, and Janus intends to drill into the other’s head otherwise. Gentle as a feather, he takes Logan’s hand, making it clear the other can pull away anytime he wants. It’s quite honestly too early for Janus to be doing this many mental gymnastics this early in the morning, especially at such a romantic calibre, but damn if he’s going to let a perfectly good catch get away.

As earnest as he can, he adds, “So, if you’re willing—“ He lets his gaze trail away, cheeks warming. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Later today, perhaps at five?”

Logan shyly meets his eyes, and Janus thinks, ‘Cute.’

“That sounds.. amendable,” Logan answers with a small smile.

Janus lets himself grin playfully. “Only amendable?”

“Lovely, then.”

#loceit #logan sanders #ts logan #ts logic #janus sanders #ts deceit #ts janus #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #romantic loceit #hello this is the first time i write in years #please enjoy my word vomit #fic inspired by setosdarkness on ao3 :)#please tell me how to cut posts i am in pain #rizzy’s loceit fics

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logan-the-artist · 5 months

Note

Hiiii

May i request some loceit? Maybe with some hand kisses ya know?

them them them them them them them them th

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katelynn-a-fan · 2 years

Text

One Red Coat. Two Red Shoes.

(K)Nights of the Red Coat Series (2/?)

Word count: 2.1k

AU/Genre: Prohibition Era Mystery

Pairing: Loginceit (Janus x Logan x Roman)

Summary: Logan and Janus find themselves watching this new addition to their speakeasy. Logan has no idea why, but he wants to know this new man. Even if he has to cross half the city to do it.

Halfway across the city, things are not as clean or safe, if a speakeasy can be called safe, as the better side of the city. But for this Prince, Logan must be the Knight he needs. No matter what he has to do to do it.

First | Next | Ao3

Gritting his teeth, Logan cursed under his breath as a sudden gust of wind nearly knocked him over.

The sparse passersby glanced at him strangely as he recovered as fast as he could. Their opinions didn’t matter. They could think he was running from the law (he did look like a bartender after all with his work clothes). They could think he was drunk.

None of that mattered.

That g- The Prince was in danger.

Logan rubbed his hands together as he mentally beat up his past self for frivolously casting aside his gloves at home because surely he would not be outside for long going to work.

God, he hoped his suspicions about where this Prince was going weren’t true.

And yet…

Logan’s gut rolled.

There was only one person who could’ve had that much power. That much terror to make the Prince pale like that.

His thoughts nearly consumed him enough that it took the loud honking of a car horn for it to coalesce that he had sprinted a few steps in front of a car that had barely been able to stop.

“Sir, I suggest you remove yourself from the road before someone with a penchant for not stopping does it for you!”

Despite the coals in his gut that dared him to bite back, Logan simply ran the full way across the entrance to the side street that he had unintentionally ran across. Not even a glance at who he had encountered.

The brick color on the buildings began to change as Logan drew near what the locals called the ‘Cesspit.’

All the shady, illegal, downright wicked things that could happen in this town, happened astride these soot covered facades.

And Logan was walking right into the heart of the muck.

Even as he watched his hand meet Prince’s lips, still his knees bent slightly as they began to buckle. He certainly felt like royalty now.

Does heaven feel like this?

But there was no discussion. No hesitation.

The Prince was in danger. And he… was the Knight. Was going to-

To-

Well, he would do whatever it took to get this Prince out of whatever muck he had gotten himself into.

“Hey fella, you lookin’ for a time?” A figure spoke from an alley as Logan passed.

And get himself out of a mess too, apparently.

In the shadow, Logan could barely make out their face as the sunlight faded and streetlights had not been turned on. But what Logan didn’t have in sight, he made up for in the hairs all along his body springing almost immediately to attention. And not because of the cold.

However, he didn’t need whatever primal reaction his body had to this figure in the shadows to know that it wasn’t wise to follow shady men down dark alleys on this side of town.

“I do hope you never find whatever schmuck you are trying to lure to their likely exploitation and/or death.” Logan spoke, quickly and never giving this shadow man any time to respond. “May your days be filled with as much misery as you have inflicted on others. I am armed. Good day.”

And with that, he left the figure, giving the moment no more thought that one would have taking a breath.

Once again rubbing his hands together to try to have some circulation back to his hands, Logan found himself slowing, probably had been doing so for some time now. His outfit was not meant for such extended weather, and that was taking its toll on Logan’s extremities.

But Logan supposed slowing down was a blessing as the barest muffled voice stopped him in his tracks. It had been short, cut off, dozens of feet away… and though some material…

And yet Logan would recognize that melodious voice anywhere, even marred by the slight hoarseness it possessed in such a short burst.

The Prince. He was in trouble.

Logan whipped around. He ran back to the alley he had been passing and choked off an involuntary gasp. Janus would’ve snorted at the display of ‘such utter emotion.’ As if both of them had not been utterly and visibly head over heels for this Prince ever since he came up to the bar.

“I knew it. Who else?” Logan murmured.

The King.

Of course, he was no king. At least not in the regal sense.

There was no country he ran. No sparkling, crown jewels sitting atop his brow (though the hat did shimmer in the slanting sunset light that barely managed to squeak into the alley)

But for all intents and purposes, in this town, none of that mattered.

If the King didn’t like you, you were gone. If a business gave any whiff of disrespect, they’d find themselves either disappeared or strangely befallen a life-threatening injury if not found dead before they could get medical assistance.

This man, blood red fedora glistening in the fading orange light, leaned over past a crumbling partition wall that appeared to belong to a long abandoned building that had once been here.

No wonder the Prince wears red.

Folded over this wall, in addition to the dull red shoes sticking out from behind it as well, was what was now a familiar bright, red coat.

No wonder he calls himself the Prince, he’s got the shoes to match.

Logan’s fists turned even more white than from the cold as he clenched his fists. He could swear his bones popped at the force.

Also, no wonder I’m going to bash this guy’s fucking head in.

As the King lips begin to move, saying god knows what threats toward the Prince, Logan finds himself barreling headfirst towards the scene.

One moment, he’s staring at the red coat, knowing he’s running up to what could be his mysterious death. The next he’s eye to eye with the most notorious gangster on the east coast, much less the city.

With muted surprise, the King’s smooth expression, that infuriating smirk, looked down at Logan’s seething form.

Perhaps if the King wasn’t so fucking tall, Logan might have actually made this guy feel some of the fear the King inspired in others. But even so, with all the emotional deafness Logan had, there was something in the King’s eyes that spurred him on.

It was also what had him catching the King’s fist as the unforeseen knife came screaming at him. The King saying something about having more meat to detail as it approached.

“Well, if you tasted me. You’d find that I have a fair bit of spice.” Logan replied, the King’s face contorting from once again a surprised expression to rage.

No one had ever defied the King. But Logan didn’t care. Perhaps the Prince would run this ‘kingdom better than the King ever did. So much unnecessary fear and death.

The King drew his hand back again from Logan’s grip, an outcry of pure anger spouting from his lips. He brought the knife down.

Only to find his hand rotated and the heel of Logan’s hand slapping it so hard it popped perfectly into the air for Logan to essentially pluck it out of the air.

“It’s not nice to steal my possessions.” The King said after once again composing himself after the dozenth stupid, life threatening descision by Logan.

Logan let a smirk not unlike Janus appear on his face.

“Well, it’s not nice to kill those who happen to disagree with you. And any of the other things you’ve done to strike fear in this country.” In some small part of Logan, saying these words was as if he were telling gravity not to pull him down. But the rest of him that was becoming more and more like this ‘Knight,’ it didn’t listen. This King needed to at least get the fear of God in him.

He’d- he’d kill the King if he had to.

Because as the King’s words washed over him once again about taking ‘his things,’ all that Logan could see was the pool of blood leaking from behind the wall he still couldn’t fully see behind.

And the silence that permeated the air as the Prince still hadn’t responded or gotten up.

Logan prayed, even not being a religious man, to whatever gods would hear him that the Prince was just unconscious.

Please, just let whatever the King did to him just be too much to stay conscious, not too much to stay alive.

“-and my boys will be coming any minute now to-”

“Falsehood.” Logan’s head snapped back up to the King. His own fury finally leaking into his frame at the state of the Prince.

The King blinked, suffocatingly smug words dying on his lips.

“What did you say?” The King snarled. There it was, something in the King’s eyes told Logan he was figuratively right on the money,

“I said you are telling a falsehood. If you needed ‘your boys,’” Logan had Janus running through him again as he accentuating the quotations with his hands and his whole body. He scowled at the King. “you would have called them the moment I ran down this alley.”

“You, King, are alone.”

And for the first time, the King’s facade truly wavered as he stepped back.

Though Logan wasn’t any different, for the King it seemed like Logan had grown 12 inches and was now the one towering over him. The King’s shoulders pulling up just as the Prince’s had probably done as the King had-

Logan screamed. “LEAVE! You are done! No one will be hurting this Prince again! And I am not someone who will be so easily disappeared. So, you better be the one to watch out.”

The King jumped as Logan yelled. His face was a mess of the vestiges of the bravado and smug facade and the terror Logan had somehow inspired in him as well as a fair bit of surprise at how terrified he was. He nearly pressed himself into the alley wall as the King fled past him out of the alley.

Okay. Apparently I do a good job of being a Knight. Good to know.

As the King turned the corner, Logan finally let himself turn his own corner to tend to whatever injuries the Prince had. Whatever impassive or angry expression he had melting into fear and concern for the Prince.

When he turned the corner, he finally let himself gasp at the cuts and bruises that covered almost every inch of the Prince's skin. The damp spot across his stomach was concerning, mostly because though it was clearly a deep slice…

That wasn’t where all that blood was coming from.

“Fuck!” Logan muttered, jumping in immediately to tend to any wounds he could and any he couldn’t, make stable enough to last until the Prince could get medical help. It was a miracle that the Prince’s chest remaining almost imperceptibly bobbing up and down in indication of his continued breathing.

As Logan was fastening a fairly tight strip of his overshirt to a sluggishly bleeding arm that appeared to a small part of the blood, the Prince softly groaned, his eyes fluttering open for a moment.

“Shh. Shh. Prince. You’re okay. I’m here to help. I know you’re hurting pretty bad. I’m the bartender from-” And that was all Logan could get out before the Prince’s eyes slipped closed once again.

Unfortunately, the Prince couldn’t move himself since he was unconscious once again. So that only gave Logan one choice. And it would not be comfortable for the Prince.

Logan was going to have to carry him back to the bar. Not for one moment was he going to leave his Prince. Especially with the King running wild and the fact he’d essentially just threatened him!

Janus, the other Knight, would help him keep a level head. Usually it was the other way around.

As Logan picked up the Prince as gingerly as he could, he couldn’t help but wince at the louder groan that came from the unconscious Prince. Even then, Logan's eyes caught how the Prince drew himself up, compressing as small as he could like a child trying not to get hit by their parents.

Nuzzling the Prince's hair with his chin, Logan spoke softly, the vague memories of his childhood in someone’s comforting arms fueling him.

“He won’t touch you ever again!”

Logan stepped out of the alley, back into the biting wind. Yet, Logan didn’t feel cold anymore with the Prince in his arms.

“I promise.”

#(K)Nights of the Red Coat #sanders sides #prohibition era #sanders sides au #logan sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #mystery #one red coat. two hearts taken #strangers to lovers #alcohol #loceit #loginceit #romantic loceit #romantic loginceit

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thatgenderlessentity · 1 year

Text

Janus- Where did all this stuff come from?

Logan- Oh, you know, here and there, rooms.

Janus- Were there people in these room?

Logan- Well, not when I went back to take the stuff.

Janus- *chuckles* You belong here with us.

Source: She-ra

#sanders sides #sanders sides incorrect quotes #ts janus #janus sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #source: she ra #platonic loceit #loceit #romantic loceit #ts loceit

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edupunkn00b · 10 months

Text

Overruled, Ch. 5: Philosophy of Love Meets The Science of Attraction

Prev - The Philosophy of Love Meets the Science of Attraction - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

You got peanut butter Intrulogical in my chocolate Loceit. You got chocolate Dukeceit in my peanut butter Loceit. Oh, no wait, we've just discovered peanut butter cups Intruloceit. For Day 5 of @loceitweek, Philosophy/Science. Yes, this is still a Loceit story. :)

WC: 3237 - Rated T - cw: suggestive, alcohol, swearing, unhealthy coping mechanisms ---

“You have to check your calendar?” Janus blurted out, staring incredulously at him. “No, he’s free,” he said to Remus. “What time can he pick you up?”

“Janus, really, I—”

Janus cut him off with a look.

“You can pick me up at eight.” Remus’ voice wasn’t as confident as it had been a moment ago, and his eyes danced nervously between them even as he smiled. “My brother’ll be busy with some tech break down shit tomorrow night…” Warm fingers played at the edges of his hair, ostensibly clearing his vision. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Logan tugged at the label on his water bottle and tried to catch Janus’ eye. He understood his reluctance, didn’t he? “I… I merely need to be certain I have not committed to anything else before I said yes,” he finally said to Remus.

“You haven’t,” Janus insisted and stood, offering a hand first to Remus and then to Logan. The finality of his answer echoed against the fitness room walls and suddenly Logan was a lot less warm.

Janus gripped his hand for a moment longer than necessary and Logan again tried to catch his gaze. Despite his smile, he steadfastly avoided his eyes. Finally, Logan nodded and turned to Remus, smiling. Bright green eyes stared back at his, their earlier nervousness burned away. “I’ll pick you up at eight, Remus,” he said. “Wear something casual.” Janus left with a little wave and Logan followed, calling back over his shoulder. “And warm.”

At eight o’clock sharp, Logan knocked at the door number Remus had text him, a picnic basket and plaid blanket tucked under one arm.

“Hmm, don’t you look delectable,” Remus purred, looking him up and down. “Punctual, too.” He closer and trailed two fingers over the constellation pattern on his tie. “You smell tasty, too.”

“That is more than likely the fruit tray and sparkling cider,” he said, giving him a crooked grin.

“Sparkling cider? As in Martinelli’s or,” he made exaggerated air quotes.“‘Sparkling cider?’”

“It’s a berry apple blend, and yes,” Logan nodded. “It is nonalcoholic. You are under twenty-one, are you not?”

Remus waggled his eyebrows, hand resting on his chest. “Are you this exacting in bed?”

“That remains to be seen,” Logan said smoothly and offered his arm free arm. Remus was dressed in low-slung ripped jeans and newly polished combat boots, laces undone but not dragging on the floor. His sleeveless teelooked cropped, the edges curled and revealing his navel and a faint trail of auburn hair. “Do you have a jacket?” he asked, not at all convinced Remus had been listening when Logan had said to dress warmly .

“Got it,” he grinned, grabbing a heavy leather jacket from behind the door and draping it over one shoulder. He took Logan’s arm and followed him out to the hall and toward the elevators, letting his dorm door slam behind him. “So, where to, hot Daddy?”

“I am not a father,” he said, eyebrow raised. “‘Logan’ will suffice for tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” Remus laughed, drawing closer as they stepped into the elevator.

Once outside, Logan set a brisk pace across the quad. “We are going there,” he pointed to the clock tower on top of the library.

“Oooo,” Remus cooed, tightening his grip on Logan’s arm with a little shiver. “Are we off for a ‘study’ session?” Head tilted to rest on his shoulder, they walked in tandem and he shivered again. “Care to study me?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Logan murmured. Dropping his arm, he unbuttoned his pea coat and threaded Remus’ hand between the back of it and his waist, his own arm draped around the sophomore’s. “You are cold. If you insist on not wearing your jacket, at least stay close.”

“Oh,” Remus began, voice sultry as he shimmied closer. With nothing but his linen shirt between them, Remus’ hand and arm felt cold. “Hmm…” Whatever he’d been about to say melted into a pleased hum. “You’re warm,” he finally said. “Thanks, Professor.”

Arm curled around his waist, Logan nodded as he felt the cold from Remus’ skin disipate with his body heat “You’re more than welcome, Remus.”

They approached the door and Remus frowned at the sign announcing the library closed at 7:30 on Sundays. “Are we breaking in?”

“Not quite,” Logan murmured, producing his school ID and tapping it against the reader. The door buzzed and popped right open. “The law library has extended hours. This will grant us… certain access.”

“Holy fuck, Logan!” he laughed, face blooming in a giddy grin. He bowed dramatically as Logan held the door for him and practically skipped inside the darkened library.

The warmth filling Logan’s chest had nothing to do with his wool pea coat or the blast from the library’s HVAC system. He gestured to a winding staircase to the left. “Ready for a bit of a climb?”

The library was glorious. It was near silent, none of that seemingly ever-present hum and buzz of machines and people doing their best to be quiet, no clacking keyboards or the random dropped book. Even the self-checkout machines near the door were powered down, only the red lasers flickering against empty tabletops.

Most of the lights were turned off, with only a strip of exit lights illuminating the aisles between the sections and stars and streetlights streaming in through the skylights over the reading room’s atrium. A series of lights lined the spiral stairs Logan led them up, and their legs cast long shadows across the main floor below.

Logan had let go of his hand as they walked, slowing his pace and waiting patiently while Remus peered over the railing at the darkened stacks below. “How do you not just come here all the time?” he whispered, his voice deafening in the silent space.

“Who says I don’t?” he smirked back, not in a whisper, but low and rumbly and delicious. Remus could listen to him talk all night. “It’s just a bit further, when you’re ready,” he murmured, gesturing to the top of the stairs and a bright green EXIT ONLY sign.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Remus followed him through the door, smiling at the bit of duct tape covering the latch. “Maybe you do come here often,” he said with a little shoulder dance.

“I like to be prepared,” he answered and let the door close slowly behind them. He gave it a tug to demonstrate to Remus they were not locked outside, then pointed to an open area just to the right of the clock tower. “Let’s spread the blanket there.”

He set down the basket and flipped open the blanket, one of those heavy flannel ones with the plastic cores to protect against the wet ground. Fuck, he really did like to be prepared. Remus eyed the picnic basket and wondered what else he’d prepared for.

“Please have a seat,” he murmured and they sat, looking out over the campus.

“Oh,” Remus breathed. They could see the entire campus from here, the bright yellow ginkgo trees lining the paths, the ornate street lamps dotting the edges and casting thin, warm light against the darkened buildings. To the West was the Sound, big barges looking magical in the dark, just floating lights reflecting off the water. To the South was Mount Rainier, her snowy top illuminated by the full moon.

His fingers itched, wishing he had brought his sketch pad and charcoals. He glanced at Logan, busily organizing two glasses and a platter of strawberries, grapes, and pineapple in front of them. He pulled out the promised bottle—chilled, no less—of Martinelli’s and—

“I noticed how you’d been drawing at the fitness center,” Logan said, passing him a blank sketchbook and a small box of charcoals. The exact fucking brand he’d used before their sexy little law school smack down. “I’ve always enjoyed the view here and I thought perhaps…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Remus grinned, reaching for the sketchbook and pastels. They were brand new, still wrapped in the plastic film. “Thank… thank you, Logan. D—do you really not mind if I…” He gestured to the sketchbook and the water in front of them. He knew this was a date, right?

Smiling, Logan moved closer to him and draped his jacket over his shoulders, then handed him a glass. “I was rather hoping you would.”

~~~

As the evening wore on, the pair finished their drinks and most of the platter. Remus sketched quickly, filling page after page. He and Ro had made it out to Seattle just before the start of freshman year and he’d never… never seen the sky quite like this. Most nights were cloudy and even he hadn’t yet dared to climb up to the clock tower just for a look around.

He turned to a fresh page again and shifted, keeping the very southern tip of the Sound in his field of vision along with the mountains. Logan moved behind him and, as he drew, Remus leaned back, resting against his chest. A gust of wind whipped at his hair and Remus blew up sharply, hands busy with the pastels.

Humming quietly, more a rumble against his back than anything Remus could hear, Logan tucked his hair back behind his ear. The warmth from his hand sent a little shiver down his back and Remus tore his eyes away from Mt. Rainier and grinned up at him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“My pleasure.” Logan smiled and Remus shivered again. Moonlight sparkled in his eyes and, before he really thought about it, Remus turned to a fresh page and started sketching him.

“The mountain is back there,” he murmured, tilting his chin toward Rainier. Logan sat with one knee bent and Remus settled between his legs, leaning against him as he sketched a close-up of his face.

Remus grinned. “The view from here is even better.” He started with broad strokes, then tentatively reached for Logan’s jaw. “May I?” he asked, surprising even himself.

“Of course.”

He adjusted the angle of Logan’s chin and nodded rapidly. “Hold just there for a moment,” he muttered before returning to his work.

When he finished the sketch, he closed the book. “No peeking,” he laughed. “I��ll show you after I’ve colored it.”

Logan laughed back, a low chuckle that sent vibrations up and down Remus body. He was practically seated in his lap, with his own legs draped over one of Logan’s. Leaning in, he traced the edge of Logan’s jaw. It was just as smooth and firm under his fingertips as he’d imagined it. “I’ve got lots of things you can peek at in the meantime.”

“Is that so?” he asked, wrapping his arms around him and drawing closer. One more inch and their lips would touch.

“Please kiss me,” Remus blurted out.

“My pleasure,” he murmured and finally—fucking finally—pulled him into a kiss.

Logan’s kiss started gently, tasting his lips as one hand moved up to cradle the back of his head. Fingers gently curling through his hair, he slowly deepened their kiss.

Remus hummed into his mouth, lips parted, and pushed against him, following him as he lay back onto the blanket. When he broke away for breath, Remus mouthed along his jaw and down his neck before sitting up, straddling his hips.

“How do you like it?” he asked, dragging his hands down Logan’s chest and playing at the top of his belt buckle.

“Remus,” Logan shook his head, just a little, then pulled Remus’ hands from his belt and brought them up to his lips. He kissed his knuckles and shook his head again. “Remus, I’m not going to fuck you on a rooftop.”

“Oh!” he said, climbing off. Logan sat up immediately. His face was tricky to read in the dark. But they way Remus had been sitting had made it easy to feel just how interested Logan was. “Why didn’t you just say so? There are…” He waggled his eyebrows and licked his lips. “Other things I can do or we could go back to your place…”

Logan knelt in front of him and cradled his face with both hands. Steel blue eyes stared right into him, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “It is quite late,” he said after a long moment. “Perhaps it’s time I walked you home.”

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight,” Logan murmured at his door. He brushed back the curls from his eyes and then his hand lingered, carding gently through his hair.

Remus turned and rubbed his cheek against Logan’s palm, then nipped lightly at the fleshy part of his thumb. “No need for our wonderful night to already end.” He looked over his shoulder at the empty dorm room. “My brother won’t be home tonight. He’s crashing with the rest of the tech crew. Stepping forward, he pressed close, close enough to know what Logan’s body wanted. He looped one arm around Logan’s back, then took a small step backwards. “We have the room all to ourselves.”

His cheeks and lips were flushed a deep pink and, even under the bright hallway lights, Logan’s pupils were big and black, a copy of the night sky they’d just seen. He swallowed hard, then pulled Remus’ hand away from his back and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “I’d like to take you out again sometime,” he said and Remus’ stomach sank to the floor.

He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. If he didn’t want him, then…

“May I call you tomorrow and we can make plans?” Logan continued in that same low, smooth voice.

“Yeah,” Remus finally managed, heart twisting in his chest. Everything had been going so well. What did he do wrong to get this whole ‘I’ll call you’ bullshit? “Yeah, of course,” he grinned, giving his shoulders a little shimmy. Ro wasn’t the only actor between them.

“Sleep well, Remus,” Logan said, cupping his cheek as he kissed him again, soft and sweet.

It felt like a send-off.

“Yeah, you, too, Logan,” he said and watched him head for the stairs, escaping his view as quickly as he could.

Remus closed the door behind him and sank down onto the beanbag chairs to figure out what the fuck had gone wrong.

An hour later, Remus was no closer to figuring out how he’d fucked everything up and he’d taken to pacing the tiny room in an effort to work it out. Why didn’t he want him? He’d made it really obvious he was ready, willing, and able, and Logan was clearly into it. Had he just revved him up to go be with someone he really wanted?

The scars on his arm itched like a motherfucker and Remus knew if he spent another minute in here alone, he was not going to be able to keep his promise to Ro. He needed some air. While he'd paced, he’d thrown his jacket on the floor. He tooped to pick it up on his way to the door, but then straightened, hand empty.

Fuck it. It’s not that cold out.

He’d thrown out all his clove cigarettes after that fucking party, part of another promise to Ro to try harder. But he didn’t toss his gum, so he shoved his last two pieces in his mouth and chomped hard, then opened the door and fled from his thoughts.

Janus sat in his armchair, half-empty glass of scotch on the table next to him. The room was dark, the diffuse light spilling in from the streetlamp across the road doing little to illuminate the space. The sun had still been shining when Janus had come home from the grocery store and he’d taken out the bottle Glenlivet and shoved the rest of the bag into the fridge to deal with later. He sat down in the living room and poured his first glass.

That was a half a bottle ago.

‘I merely need to be certain I have not committed to anything else before I said yes…’

Logan’s eyes had pleaded with him, explaining with a look what he couldn’t—wouldn’t—with words in front of Remus. Janus knew what he’d been trying to say.

‘You have not.’

What else could he say? What else should he have said? He’d literally told Logan to find someone else to pursue. He’d told him he wasn’t interested in a relationship, he’d told him he didn’t love people. He’d told him he didn’t want to love anyone, that he didn’t want more of that soft warm touch, of those kind eyes looking back at him. That he didn’t want to know more, to learn if his kisses tasted as good as he smelled and to discover what it meant for his heart to leap out of its chest each time Logan smiled.

He’d lied.

Janus tipped back his glass and discovered it was, in fact, completely empty. Fumbling with the bottle cap, he set down the glass and tried again. Just before he got it, the bottle leapt from his hands and hit the hardwood floor, shattering and soaking the area rug with the last of his scotch. Fuck.

It took him far too long to clean it all up and by the time he was done, Janus was more than ready for another glass. He looked up at the microwave clock. If he left now, he could make it to Safeway before they closed.

The only open grocery story was only a block from campus, but the fresh air made the hike shorter than it usually felt. Before long, he was sauntering inside, walking carefully to ensure they wouldn’t turn him away. The cashier hadn’t even looked up to ring him out.

Moments later he strode through the doors, bottle in hand—and right into Remus.

“Oh, fuck, Janus, sorry,” he muttered, grabbing him with those strong, callused hands before he could stumble. Remus had been drawing, charcoal dust under his fingernails and a bit by his jaw.

“No ‘pologies needed,” Janus said slowly, annoyed at the slight slurring in his words. Remus didn’t release him and Janus stared back. He was dressed in a sleeveless shirt and jeans, no jacket. Before Janus could form the words to ask if he was cold, he shivered.

“What are you doing out?” He clutched his bottle to his chest, head tilted to the side. “I thought you’d still be with Logan by now.”

Drunk, standing in the middle of a poorly lit street, Janus couldn’t miss the hurt in Remus’ eyes. He shrugged but didn’t explain.

Janus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could Logan have possibly rejected him? He reached out and tapped the edge of Remus’ jaw. “You know what?”

“What?” he huffed out a little laugh, leaning in to his touch like a lost puppy.

“You look like you could use a drink. And I know I sure as hell could use one,” Janus nodded, holding up the bagged bottle. “I live twenty blocks that way,” he said, pointing with one end and offering his arm. “Would you like to join me tonight?”

Remus stared down at the bottle, then lifted his eyes and met Janus’. A shaky smile pulled up one corner of his mouth and hooked his hand into the crook of Janus’ elbow. “Lead the way.”

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